Garlicgate: Part 1

Seven hours. Seven hours is all it took. But I'm getting ahead of myself. This is a long tale of epic win.

My wife, Rhonda, taught kindergarten the last two years in a neighboring city. I won't name the city or district, but I will say it is famous for garlic. Ahem. She took the job there because she (admittedly) blew it on her job search a couple years ago. Her health issues (allergy to garlic amongst them), a lengthy commute, difficult colleagues - all these meant she has been looking for work closer to home ever since.

Last spring, a principal from Santa Clara wanted to interview Rhonda for a position. Her principal told them she was under contract, even though she hadn't signed one yet for the upcoming year. The same principal broke her contract in August and took a job in another district.

No thanks to our governor (or our president, for that matter, for sinking the economy), there weren't many opportunities this June. Most people were losing jobs, not getting them. Rhonda had several interviews, including a couple of good ones at San Jose Unified, but no offers.

Rhonda had pretty much resigned herself to another year at Garlicville, and was considering a career change because she was so unhappy. Then, like a white night, San Jose came calling again last week. After a couple of whirlwind interviews, the good news came on Friday. Rhonda had been offered a position.

We were, of course, very happy. Sunday we made the pilgrimage out to Rhonda's room to clean it out. That's when it all went to hell.

Rhonda was warned by a colleague that her district had, in the past, refused to release teachers from contracts and had even gone through the trouble of revoking credentials. Rhonda spoke to the union president and she confirmed that was a possibility.

Monday, Rhonda was supposed to go to new teacher orientation. However, since she hadn't been released, she was ordered to go to her old school. She stopped by the house on the way to sob uncontrollably because she was too upset to drive.

At the school, Rhonda had to wait until lunchtime to speak to her principal. He told her she would not be released from her contract. Her gave her room keys. Her team was supportive, and they talked about options for replacing Rhonda. One of the new kinder teachers was a long-term sub, and she wanted Rhonda's job. A long-term sub for one of the other teachers was unemployed. They had just interviewed a bunch of candidates.

The head of human resources at Rhonda's old district told her she would be released when a replacement was found. Rhonda frantically tried to get a hold of San Jose HR and her new principal. Her new principal told her she wasn't sure how long she could hold the position, since school starts next Tuesday. Rhonda went through a lot of Kleenex. Neither of us were eating much or at regular intervals.

Tuesday, there was some good news to open the day. Rhonda got a call from the director of San Jose HR. She said to report to work, but that she would be talking to Rhonda's old district, and to Rhonda's new principal to make sure she held the job a little longer. She had once been in Rhonda's old district, so she knew what we were up against.

Lots of nothing happened Tuesday. We began to wonder what was taking so long. Communication was spotty. Uncertainty was wearing us down. Rhonda talked extensively to her union rep, who was supportive. Rhonda said goodbye to her team, hoping it was the last time she would see them.

Wednesday was the day before the first day at the old school. Rhonda stayed home rather than drive and had the union rep fax her the class list. She got a call from San Jose and it was not good news. She had not been released yet, and there was nothing the San Jose director could do. She would try to convince the new principal to hold the job, maybe get a sub for a couple days, to buy time until Rhonda was released. But no promises. It was 8:30 AM.