Garlicgate: Part 2

So we had reached an all-time low. We had already discussed that Rhonda would rather wait for her release than go back to work. She would rather be unemployed. In a recession.

That's when I told her my idea.

I had done some reading on the internet - because what else can you do, when your wife is a complete wreck and all you can do is hold her? I told her we should e-mail the superintendent. Because when you can't get something you need, the first thing you do is ask to see a supervisor.

I composed a masterful e-mail to the superintendent, copying the union rep and president. I outlined all the reasons Rhonda needed to be close to home, especially her health issues (and now, mine). I talked about how it would be hypocritical to let Rhonda's former principal out of her contract and not let Rhonda out of hers. And I ripped Rhonda's principal for dragging his feet on hiring a replacement. I told how they said it would take a week, even though they had capable personnel on campus. I emphasized Rhonda's working relationship with her principal was irreparably damaged. I hit "send" at 11:45.

The union really got behind Rhonda at this point. I don't think they had all the information on the severity of her health problems or the situation at the school, and now they were armed with all they needed.

Also, I didn't even get into how Rhonda's principal has turned this into a petty, personal display of power. One of the things he did last year was try to get Rhonda to work on something in violation of union rules, pitting her against her own colleagues. Rhonda got out of that, but learned he was not to be trusted. All this week, he was ratcheting up the pressure, probably hoping she would crack and return to work. After all, she is very good at her job.

So it was no surprise when, a couple hours later, he called Rhonda and threatened her with "repercussions" if she didn't come to work on the first day. He even called her "Miss," which, if I'd have heard that, I would've told her to file sexual harassment charges.

But he had obviously misread Rhonda. As anyone who has known her for a long time is aware, Rhonda is stubborn as a mule, and only becomes more determined when she feels wronged. And it became obvious to us that the superintendent had read our letter and was trying to find out what the hell was going on at her school.

Less than five minutes later, another call, this time from their HR director also telling Rhonda, in a threatening tone, to be at work Thursday. At this point, Rhonda was so upset she threw up. It took a second for me to realize she was having an asthma attack. She got a call from the union president while I searched for her inhaler. The union president was on her way to the school. It was 3:00.

After she could breathe again, I was worried so I told Rhonda that since she needed allergy shots, we would ask the allergy nurses to check her blood pressure and possibly ask for a doctor's note to excuse her from work. Then we would go get the stuff she needed at Staples in case she had to work Thursday.

We drove down there and they wouldn't give her her shots because of the asthma. They took her in the back though, so they could take her blood pressure. I sat nervously in the waiting area. We hadn't eaten all day.

At 3:45, while getting her blood pressure taken, she got the call: she had been released from her contract.

I gave her a big kiss and a hug on the way out (her BP: 138/96). No more need to go to Staples, but I was starving, and we were going to celebrate by getting some Yumi Yogurt. I wanted to get McDonald's first. No less than 10 minutes later, we were in the McDonald's parking lot on Saratoga and Stevens Creek when she got the call from the jubilant San Jose HR director: "I don't know how you did it."

By 4, I was eating McNuggets in the district office parking lot while Rhonda was upstairs inking her contract with San Jose Unified. Seven hours before we were dead in the water, and I was wondering if we could make it a year on one income. Seven hours was all it took for a comeback of Jason Lezak proportions.

If you've read this far, thanks. I know it's verbose, but this was an epic. This was, by far, the biggest trial by fire we've had to face since Rhonda's dad passed away. And for us to battle through it, to snatch victory from the jaws of defeat, all the while relying on prayers and well-wishes from friends and family to keep us going, made the way this turned out all the more sweeter.

(Some people will say you shouldn't break a contract, but those people don't teach in California. You sign one-year contracts in May. You can break them before June 30, but schools don't hire until their budgets are set, or until they know how many students they have. That's in August. Some teachers are hired around the end of the school year, but usually within their own districts. People break contracts all the time in August - retiring teachers wait so they can have benefits through the summer. If you ever want a new job, you need to break your contract or get released, plain and simple. It's an insane system. Districts rarely resort to the strong-arm tactics we were subjected to.)

Rhonda went to her new school today, where she was greeted with hugs and warm welcomes. She is genuinely excited about work for the first time in years. Just a couple days ago, she was so fed up she was considering never teaching again. I'm just glad my wife is happy, and we can move on with the rest of our lives.