Preface: This is my testimony with reference to a life-shattering event that I endured 31 years ago, written for a small group of people whose lives I shared prior to this. If you are reading this, you were very special to me. You may not even be aware that this happened. If you are aware, then you have only heard one side of the story. You have not heard my side. I have kept quiet about it and lived in private humiliation all these years. I would like to share my side of the story while I still can. I have borne this burden too long; I am hoping that by sharing it with you, I might be relieved of it. Please help me cleanse my soul. At least, just hear my side of the story.
I was literally in a state of shock. The biggest heartbreak of my life occurred in August 1984. I went to the local freight depot in Athens to pick up the 1984 Malakoff Tiger yearbooks fresh off the press from the publisher. After I delivered them to the high school office for distribution, I was told, "Oh, by the way, Mr. Wylie, you have been relieved of your duties as yearbook advisor." I think one of the office ladies told me. I felt like I had been stripped naked and shot multiple times, figuratively speaking, of course. I have lived quietly with this shame for 31 years now. It has soured my outlook on life, poisoned my love for my fellow man, and left me a cynical and caustic old man. So, through the digital magic of the age in which we now live, I have decided to divest myself of this burden by sharing this with anyone who might care to partake. So if you ever wondered why I left Malakoff, then teaching altogether, or if you did not know about any of this, here's the lowdown, in Reader's Digest form. I just want all of you who might think otherwise to know that I did not leave teaching voluntarily. In effect, I was forced out. I loved teaching and would never have left were it not for some cowards who gave me a push.
Before this unexpected event, I had been very happy with my job at Malakoff High School. Sure, teaching can be a stressful experience, and at that time, it simply did not pay enough to support my young family, (however, Malakoff had supplemented my salary in a number of ways, so I was able to manage). But I loved my job. I loved my students at Malakoff. I loved teaching math; I even think I was good at it. And yearbook was my passion; it was the glue that kept me in teaching and at Malakoff. Malakoff had been good to me by paying me extra for my yearbook responsibilities. For several years, I had taught an extra class that met before school officially began in the morning; we referred to it as "zero" period. I got extra pay for that. All the athletic teams and cheerleaders allowed me to take individual and group photos for the players which helped me financially, as well. So I was very happy doing a job I loved while being able to earn enough to provide for my family. I think I had been good for Malakoff, and Malakoff had been good for me.
Why was I relieved of my yearbook duties? Your guess is as good as mine. The Board of Trustees did not invite me to the meeting at which this decision was considered and made (I was not even informed in advance that such a meeting was taking place). No one told me what it was that I had done that was so egregious as to justify my dismissal. No one even bothered to contact me to tell me of this decision after it was made. I only learned about it when I showed up unexpectedly that day to deliver the yearbooks. It seems that everyone already knew about it, except me. How freaking humiliating!
I had a very clean record at Malakoff High School. You will find no record of any written reprimands or other disciplinary action being taken against me. No verbal reprimands were ever issued to me. No grievances were ever filed against me. I never took a day of sick leave. I never took a personal leave day. Although I lived 25 miles away, I was almost always the first one in the door (about 6am) and usually the last one out (about 6pm). I was always there for the students. I gave the school district its money's worth, and then some. Was I perfect? No, but I tried really hard and I gave it everything I had. It was my life's calling. I had invested six years of my life earning a bachelor's and master's degree in education, preparing for what I thought would be a lifetime career.
So why did Malakoff take yearbook away from me? Well, again, I just don't know. I can't even begin to speculate. It has been a mystery to me for 31 years now. I did go to a subsequent board meeting to express my dismay with the decision. I told them that I would not ask them why they had done it--the decent thing would have been to tell me the reason before doing it. Maybe give me a chance to defend myself, answer questions, maybe clarify whatever it was they thought I had done that was so bad. Maybe explain to me what infraction I had committed and then give me a chance to correct it. I told them that it is too late to tell someone why you are shooting him after he is dead. They basically accused me of something (while keeping said accusation secret), held a secret trial in my absence behind closed doors, found me guilty, and administered punishment without allowing me an opportunity to defend myself.
For the record, I know very well in my heart that I did not do anything that would justify my dismissal. Someone on the board, or close to the board, had something personal against me (and again, I don't have a clue who it was or what it could have been). So they just sacked me for no good reason at all. Period. NO GOOD REASON! If you don't have a good reason, if it's just a personal vendetta, then you don't tell anybody what it's all about. This is why I do not speculate about what I did. I did nothing that would justify their action. It's as simple as that.
Not only did they take the yearbook away from me, but they also took the zero period away, and apparently, all the coaches were instructed not to do picture business with me. All of this together crushed me financially, and my family had to learn to live on a lot less. But the humiliation of being so rudely dismissed and not being able to answer for whatever it was that I supposedly did was more than I could bear. I guess the thing that hurt the most is that no one stood up for me or spoke up for me publicly (except spunky little Darinda Hennessee--I will always love her for that), neither on the faculty, the administrative staff, or my students. Yes, a couple of former students shared with me privately how rotten it was, but no one was willing to do anything beyond that. I finished out that year at Malakoff High School feeling totally unwanted and unwelcome, alone and abandoned.
Epilogue: I moved the next year to Athens High School, where the personnel director promised me that in addition to teaching math, I would, in short order, be assigned to yearbook duty. I was very happy to get that second chance. Near the conclusion of my second year, during my annual performance evaluation, the principal informed me that he had no intention of me ever being involved with the yearbook at Athens High School. I'm not sure I should say she lied to me, but somewhere along the way, the personnel director's promise got lost. That was the final nail in the coffin. My teaching career died then and there. I was finished.
The yearbook was the glue that kept me in teaching. Malakoff took it away. Athens promised to give it back, but then did not live up to its word. So, after 12 years of teaching, I gave it up. I moved on. I did all right in my next profession. But I am still sickened to this day by the cowardly manner in which that superintendent and school board so unfairly dismissed me and catapulted me towards the end of my teaching career, the ruination of my life's calling.
For full disclosure, I must add that one of those school board members visited with me several years later and told me that the board had indeed handled the matter poorly and incorrectly, was wrong in its actions, and that he was sorry for the part he played in it. I forgave him that day. Still, he did not disclose what my awful transgression was, and I did not ask. Finally knowing would not have changed anything. In retrospect, I sometimes wonder if he even knew what it was that I supposedly did.
I'm still waiting for the other six. To them I would ask, Does it ever bother you what you did to me? Do you have any idea how you ruined my life? Six years of college and 12 years of experience down the drain--for what? Do you care? Have you ever given it a fleeting thought during the past 31 years? Because not a day goes by in my life that I do not wake up with bitterness from the indignity and injustice you shoved down my throat, for no good reason whatsoever.
Lemonade: So seven members of the Malakoff Board of Education and a spineless superintendent screwed me royally, for no good reason. They took away the glue that kept me in teaching. Athens promised to give it back, but then reneged. Liars, cheats, and thieves—all of them!
Lemonade: So seven members of the Malakoff Board of Education and a spineless superintendent screwed me royally, for no good reason. They took away the glue that kept me in teaching. Athens promised to give it back, but then reneged. Liars, cheats, and thieves—all of them!
But to all of them who either knowingly or unknowingly poured their venomous hatred upon me, I would say thank you so very much. You did me one giant favor. For several years before being pushed out of teaching, I had entertained the thought of pursuing photography as a full-time career. I had, after all, been doing it on a part-time basis during those teaching years to supplement my income. But my love of teaching and a fear of giving up a steady income for an unpredictable future of self-employment prevented me from pursuing that dream. But you ungrateful people gave me the shove that I needed. Athens informed me in April 1987 that I would never be involved in the yearbook there. I resigned effective at the end of that year. I spent the summer months of that year constructing a studio at my home. In September, when school started back up, I opened my business full-time. I made more during the remaining four months of that year than my full year’s teaching salary.
So, again I say, thank you! Suddenly, I was working less, making more, being free of stress, and spending an enormous amount of time with my family, who had been largely ignored, taking a backseat to my teaching career. So thank you for your cowardly, spineless screwing. You gave me a hugely increased income, reduced my levels of daily stress to practically zero, and allowed me to put my family first in my life. You ungraciously dealt me a lemon; I made lemonade. It was the best!
Salt on the Wound: I actually did not remember this little knife in the back until many years after this whole sordid event occurred. For several years prior to getting relieved of my yearbook duties at Malakoff, I had taught an extra class, Advanced Math for seniors. It was during the hour before the official school day began, so we called it “zero period” because it preceded the First Period. It was no problem for me; I really enjoyed it, and I was paid extra for it. Because the regular class schedule consisted of five periods of instruction and one conference period, I was paid an extra one-fifth of my base pay (whatever that was) for teaching the extra class. The year before my undoing, the principal and superintendent called me in and asked if I would be willing to teach a second extra class (Physics), this one being scheduled during what would have been my conference period. The superintendent told me there was no money in the budget to pay me extra for that class, but he could increase my yearbook bonus a little the next year so that I would eventually get paid over the course of several years. I agreed to this verbal offer (silly me) because I had no reason not to trust this man, but little did I know of the events that would follow the next year. So I taught seven periods that year with six different preparations and with no conference period—no break other than lunch. Long story short, after the bomb dropped the following year I never got a penny for that extra work. Malakoff ISD, or more specifically that superintendent, stole several thousand dollars from me, pure and simple. He was a liar and a thief—I just can’t sugarcoat it. I can’t remember all the cowards that sat on that school board, but I remember that scumbag of a superintendent. He was not an honorable man. To this day, I still find myself waking up at night remembering what he did to me, and unable to go back to sleep.
Update: As I re-read this today (February 9, 2021) the first paragraph sort of reached out and slapped me in the face. I prefaced this by stating that I wanted to tell my side of the "story." Obviously, I was unable to do this because, to this day, I still do not know what the "story" was. It's kind of hard to tell your side of the story when you don't have a clue what the story was. In retrospect, all I accomplished here was letting off a little steam.
