iSpy

Before continuing my story about Mr. Pervert and the Coven, I would like to dwell on the concept of spying and its implications for people who have been targeted by the DOE -- especially those who have spent time in the Rubber Room.

In my last post I fantasized about being an undercover agent for the authorities in order to monitor Mr. Pervert's actions over time and eventually catch him in the act.  I dismissed my fantasy as being unrealistic and even dishonorable.  Unfortunately for all of us, today there are government agencies that have the funding and the mandate to fulfill the fantasy that I rejected. It is my position that their spyware was used by the New York City Department of Education under Mayor Bloomberg against New York City teachers.

Under the Bloomberg Administration, principals were trained and pressured to get rid of teachers by charging them under section 3020a of the NYS Education Law.  This was part of a three-fold plan:  to save money, to weaken the teachers' union (UFT) and to privatize the educational system.

The principals were basically given a list of charges and told to go in search of defendants.

1. Pedagogical Incompetence

2. Physical or Mental Disability

3. Lack of Certification

4. Absence from Work

5. Insubordination

6. Corporal Punishment and Use of Excessive Physical Force

7. Improper Remarks, Physical Contact and Relationships with Students

8. Endangerment of Student Safety

9. Other Types of Chargeable Misconduct

I sensed that I was being spied on when I was in the Rubber Room, but I thought that they had planted spycams and microphones the old-fashioned way in light fixtures and behind the woodwork.  Little did I know that everyone's phone and computer was potentially an open mic or an open camera.  And consider this--these devices might have stayed on after we went home.

 If you need to be convinced that it is technologically possible that they were spying on us 24/7,  you might want to check out this article.  There has been a lot of talk about iphones being NSA friendly, but it's really every phone and every carrier.

You may have trouble believing that they were using their technology to spy on teachers--more than anything because it is such a ridiculous waste of money and resources.   However, consider that we were in New York, the city of 9/11, on constant terrorist alert, and with an astronomical Homeland Security budget.  You don't think that Bloomberg used his spy toys on his favorite project of targeting and eliminating teachers?  

That's why I think that my text referring to "the Pervert" was definitely picked up and stored away. Heck, there were eight or more people at every table, and everyone had a phone and a computer in front of them.  I always thought that it was a strange coincidence that a New York Post article came out with a story about the Pervert that was very similar to the one I had told in confidence to one of my Rubber Room colleagues.  Was my colleague a spy?  More likely the spy was on the other end of one or both of our phones.

Coulda, Shoulda, Woulda

Telling the Pervert's friend that I would not support him resulted in immediate isolation from from his community (the Coven) and from all information about the case.

What would have happened if I had taken out a five dollar bill, smiled sweetly, and said that I hoped everything would turn out ok?

For one thing, I would have found out a lot sooner that one of the charges against him was taking nude pictures of a student.  I could have corroborated that there was in fact a nude picture, but I couldn't have supplied evidence about who took it or where it was taken.

I would have been in a better position to pick up information about the girl he had impregnated and then married.  I could have supplied this information to the prosecution.  However, I don't know if it would have been admissible.

I could have attended his trial and gotten a much better idea of the charges and evidence against him.  When his conviction was overturned he had all records about the case expunged.

I could have been a fly on the wall, eavesdropping on conversations with him and about him.  This may or may not have lead to information about other incidents.  He fought his charges for almost ten years.  In all that time outside the classroom he would have found another way to be in contact with prepubescent girls if he were really a pervert.

In short, I could have been a spy.

This would have made for a great novel or screenplay, but I'm glad I didn't make it into my life's story.  In the end, I expressed myself honestly.  Everyone knew where I stood.  I think the path I took was more honorable.

But isolation from the community is never good and has consequences of its own.

Five Dollars

"We're collecting for Mr. Pervert's defense.  Could you spare five dollars?"
"I'll give you ten dollars toward psychological treatment, but I won't give toward his defense because I think he's guilty."
"Why do you think he's guilty?  Kids lie all the time."
"I heard that he had a relationship with a former student and got her pregnant while she was still under age.  Is that true?
Mr. Pervert's supporter turned and left without a word.
So they did know, and they let him get away with it until he did it again and got caught.


I realize that I could have spoken with more compassion and diplomacy and with less judgement and censure.  If I could go back in time, I would give the five dollars and shut up...  On second thought, I  would probably say exactly the same thing.  My whole blog is a reflection of what could be seen as the fatal character flaw of someone who speaks her mind with little regard for the consequences.

So what were the consequences?

Of Polaroids and Perverts

She was a pale child and quiet.  She seemed very sweet and innocent.  That's why I was shocked to find her surrounded by some of the seventh grade boys in homeroom as she showed them a polaroid picture of herself, naked from the waist up with her back to the camera.  I chased the boys away and pulled her aside for a little talk after her classmates had moved to their first period class.  I asked her if this was a picture of herself (it obviously was).  Then I asked who took it.

Now comes the hard part of trying to tell a story that is thirty years old.  It was the early eighties--let's say 1984 for mathematical convenience.  After this much time, there are hard memories (things I'm absolutely sure of), soft memories, (things I'm somewhat sure of) and fillers (I can't remember, but it makes sense that it happened that way).

I know for a fact that she did not tell me that the Pervert took the picture.  I don't remember what she said, but somehow I got the impression that she had taken it of herself by delaying the shutter release.  I do remember what I wanted to communicate to her:  There's nothing wrong, in my opinion, with the human body.  Artists have celebrated the nude figure in paintings, statues, and photographs.  There is nothing wrong with taking a nude picture of yourself.  However, it is inappropriate to bring a picture like this to school and show it to just anybody.  Your body is a temple, blah blah blah.

I made the decision to not tell anybody.  This was based on my assessment that this was a healthy exploration of her changing body, and to make a big deal out of it would scare her, shame her, make her feel insecure, and in the end do more harm than good.

Years and years later, after the Pervert had beaten the charges against him, I was told that she had accused him of taking her home with him and photographing her in the nude.  This was in addition to another girl saying that he had fondled her.  In the end, they had only charged him with fondling because there weren't any photographs to offer into evidence against him.

She was twelve when that photograph was taken.  That would make her around forty-two now.  I wouldn't recognize her in the street.  I think about her sometimes and wonder what became of her.  I hope life has treated her well.

Madelene was twelve when she accused me of calling her a slut five years ago today.  That would make her seventeen now.  I wouldn't recognize her in the street either.  I don't give a damn what happens to her.

The funny thing is that I still think the Pervert is a pervert.  I believe that the photograph that my seventh-grade student showed me on that long-ago morning was taken by the Pervert.  But after what Madelene and the others did to me, I would never deprive a person of life, liberty, property or a job based on a child's testimony.

Of Perverts and Sluts

I had been in the Rubber Room for less than a week when I saw him.  It came as quite a shock.  I took out my phone and texted a friend, "The Pervert is here"!

I didn't need to elaborate.  My whole circle of family and friends knew who the Pervert was.

Early in my career a twelve-year-old girl had accused a teacher of fondling her.  He was arrested, tried, convicted, and then had the conviction reversed on appeal.  Approximately ten years after his arrest, he walked back into the school in triumph.  His friends threw him a welcome back party.  I didn't attend.  I wasn't his friend.

I was sure he was guilty and couldn't hide my feelings.  Everyone else seemed to like him, but he really creeped me out.  I couldn't stay in the same school with him and what I came to call his "Coven", so I asked for a transfer.  A couple of years later, I read in the Daily News that he had been relieved of his duties pending the investigation of yet another harassment charge.  I was filled with righteous indignation and told-you-so pride, but more than anything else I was relieved  Maybe now the charges would stick and he wouldn't be able to prey on anymore prepubescent girls--at least not in the public school system.  His kind would always find a victim somewhere.

Now I, who had been right about him, was relieved of duties and assigned to the Rubber Room while his enabling friends remained in the classroom.  Principal ShTey had been trying to make a case for dismissing me for years.  ShTey finally got what she needed on February 6, 2009 when one of my students, a girl named Madelene, accused me of calling her a slut.  That was my last day in the classroom--exactly five years ago tomorrow.

Child Abuse

Asking a child to sit in one of these infernal contraptions for six hours a day, five days a week, ten months out of the year, for 12 years, is child abuse.  I don't care how you arrange the desks--groups, circles, whatever, each child is still confined to a constricted amount of space amounting to approximately one cubic meter for a significant part of his/her childhood.  

"Oh, it's not that bad", you might say.  With the right teacher who knows how to "engage the children" it can be quite fun to sit in a chair all day.

But thanks to the special glasses I received while in the Rubber Room, when you see this...

I see this instead.

The World Will Never Look The Same Again

"They Live" Written and Directed by John Carpenter

I came out of the Rubber Room a different person.  It has taken a while for me to get to know that person.  The world will never look the same to me again.