At a time when I should probably ghost, I am going to do the opposite and tell my story. Because no one can tell my story the way I do. I lived it. I’ve run from bullies my entire life. I’ve people pleased and avoided confrontation my entire life. I ran away from every skirmish I ever encountered. Every single one. I felt some level of comfort in doing so but completely empty inside.

My fight is with no one and everyone. If you feel attacked, then you feel the way you do. I’m not going to apologize for telling the truth. My “enemy”, as it were, is not any one person or administrator or the Newburgh School System or teachers or politicians or any other organization. My fight, my “enemy” is a system that continually fails children, most importantly our most vulnerable, at-risk children. A system that says all the right things and is great at public relations but far too often misses the mark. A system whose most important interest is the system itself. That when it must choose between exposing its flaws or some inner-city kids future, with two strikes already against him, will cover up and say nothing even if it means that that kids life is sacrificed. A system wherein students are a means to an end and not individual human beings. They are statistics to promote the celebration of the system. If they make the system look bad than we cover it up and erase the evidence, even it has negative consequences for the individual.

I was an active participant in that system and I sat by silently, avoiding confrontation, as the system destroyed one life after the other while patting itself on the back for its successes. I watched kids fall through the cracks that shouldn’t have. I watched the system, time and time again, hand students a diploma while having not given them an education. Because those are two wholly and separate things and should never be conflated. Many times, kids did get both, but more often than not, those were the kids from “good families”. From good neighborhoods. Who were born with some level of advantage and who were pre-ordained to succeed. I watched too many other kids handed diplomas but not given an education. I not only watched it, I participated actively in it. I was paid a good salary and life was good.

If a student misses a certain level of time in school, “seat time” as it were, whether legally or illegally, they are not receiving an education. I don’t care if they pass the class or the Regents or any other state or national test. At that point they are being “pushed through”. That affects kids from different socio-economic backgrounds differently. If you give a kid with two strikes against him an intentional walk, his batting average doesn’t increase. He stays stuck, which all too often leads to him back sliding. A kid who is intentionally walked does not get the same level of self-esteem boost as a kid who gets a base hit or a home run. That diploma, when handed to him in June, has a different weight and feeling. I don’t care how much pomp and circumstance you apply or how many times you tell him that you’re proud of him. He or she is taught nothing. You’ve pushed them into the world with not a clue on how to negotiate their way through that world. You may have raised your attendance rate and your African-American or Latino attendance rate, but you have not prepared that young man or woman for the rest of their lives.

That’s exactly what the system does far too often with these vulnerable kids. They push them through and stop caring about them as soon as they cross the stage and flip their tassels. They either raised our success rate or didn’t. They aren’t humans, their worth depends on whether they can be Tweeted about or posted about on Facebook. That becomes their value. We stand there beaming with our arm around the child’s shoulder and convince everyone how much we care about them. Many times, we do care about them. It’s the kids that we can’t post on social media that became my primary concern. The kids who have failed, who, maybe, we have failed, that I started to take a closer look at. The marginalized, middle of the road kid. If they did graduate, did so without receiving an education.

The truth of my story is that I simply could no longer participate in that process. I set about trying to change it without having any idea how much the system does not want change. Change is difficult and requires a serious look in the mirror and searching of the soul. I recognized the problem and sat down with a board member and three senior administrators and prepared to fix the issues. I figured they’d pat me on the back for being such a dutiful employee and together we would change the world! I saw what I thought were crimes being committed. Then I saw the astonishing amount of time kids were not in class. I stumbled upon this information. There was no conspiracy, I was not a disgruntled employee. I did not contact The Times Herald Record, or the Dept. of Education or David Hoovler. I became gruntled, but that came way after the fact. My first reaction, my first response, was to bring it to the powers that be within the school district. In June of 2016, I sat down with people in power and said, “you have a problem here”. The second thing I said was “let’s fix it together.” That can’t be disputed, it’s exactly what happened.

They didn’t pat me on the back and we didn’t change the world together. My world changed, that’s for sure. I took on a level of, what I determine to be, harassment, bullying and retribution that was incalculable. But I’m here. I wasn’t fired even though they attempted to do that on more than one occasion. Anyone who is out there disparaging my name and reputation should think about that before they do so. But that is human nature, so I don’t take it personally. Change is difficult, taking a long look inside of our souls is difficult. It’s far easier to destroy the person exposing the problem than it is to deal with the problem. I did that very thing for a long time. I don’t know what the future holds but I pray for change…

“I see a beautiful city and a brilliant people rising from this abyss. I see the lives for which I lay down my life, peaceful, useful, prosperous and happy. I see that I hold a sanctuary in their hearts, and in the hearts of their descendants, generations hence. It is a far, far better thing that I do, than I have ever done; it is a far, far better rest that I go to, than I have ever known.”

- “A Tale of Two Cities” by Charles Dickens.