In January of 2017, I made a mistake that dramatically changed my life and impacted my career.
I was home on a Friday evening, when I received a text message from a colleague, the assistant principal/athletic director of our high school. He was supervising our students at a basketball game being hosted by another local high school, and let me know that a few of our students were behaving poorly, and would likely require disciplinary action on the following Monday.
"Oh great," I texted, "That's going to be fun to deal with."
Without thinking about it much, we then made a couple of sarcastic remarks about two of our former students, who now attended the hosting school. We made insensitive comments about one student's body image, and the other's drug use.
Unknown to us, a different student of ours was standing above him, using a high powered telephoto zoom lens to photograph our conversation from a significant distance. Later that week, the student shared these photos with her friends, and eventually they started to appear in some social media accounts.
As soon as we learned of these pictures, we felt absolutely terrible. At the time, we were not necessarily fearful that we had been exposed, or of our own potential consequences. Rather, we felt completely embarrassed and ashamed that we were overheard talking about students in a derogatory manner. We knew that our behavior was unacceptable, unprofessional, and inappropriate. We were also saddened to know that this information would make it appear that we had a low opinion of our students, when in fact the exact opposite was true.
We tried our best to resolve the situation by immediately reporting the information to our superintendent, who reached out to the families of the students involved. We met with one of the students and her mother, to express our extreme and genuine remorse. I drafted a letter to send out to our district families, only to have it almost entirely replaced by a different letter my superintendent commissioned from a community relations director in a neighboring district. That version is what ended up being sent out, and later ended up in the press. (A second published version closer to my original apology is included below.) The second family refused to meet with the us, and instead met with our superintendent to express their indignation. The next day, we were contacted by several local media outlets.
The story broke on a Tuesday night, and was in print Wednesday morning. The response was intense. The phone calls and emails came pouring in. As you can imagine, most were very negative, some quite hostile, and were demanding our immediate dismissal. Although outnumbered, many people also reached out to us to offer their support, I've included some of those messages below. By Wednesday afternoon, we were in our superintendent's office discussing our resignations. We knew that even though the District may not terminate us, there was no way we could stay in the community and lead effectively. We did not want to put the district, the students, parents, and our own families through any sort of long, extended process. We agreed it was in everybody's best interest if we resigned. That was our last day with the District.
We were put on administrative leave while the separation agreement was being drawn up, and the media coverage continued to grow. This had now become a larger story. It was front page news for days, although it felt like weeks. By Friday at noon, our resignations had become public, and eventually the media coverage settled and moved on. That is when my journey began.
I was devastated. I had built up a very successful career in public education over the past twenty years. I was proud of the work that I'd done, the students, families and teachers that I had positively impacted, and my service to my community. None of that mattered any more. Everything seemed to be crashing down because of a text message. I had been vilified. People that I had worked with for decades turned their backs on me.
In addition to the personal loss, I was very ashamed of the embarrassment that I brought upon my family. There was great anxiety about how we would financially survive. My career seemed like it was over, forever. I assumed an enormous amount of guilt for causing harm to students, for letting my team down, and for the chaos that I had caused my colleagues and the community. It was a tremendous weight to bear.
Eventually, thanks to the support of my family, some close friends, some long time colleagues, lots of reading, a good amount of therapy, and with time, things got better. One of my former supervisors offered me a teaching position with a non-profit, private school for young students who experience behavioral, emotional, and mental health challenges. Working in this therapeutic environment was also very healing for me, and really helped me get back on my feet. The following year, I returned to a position of administration, although I had to leave Lane County in order to do so. One could say, that eventually everything worked out all right.
"Oh great," I texted, "That's going to be fun to deal with."
Without thinking about it much, we then made a couple of sarcastic remarks about two of our former students, who now attended the hosting school. We made insensitive comments about one student's body image, and the other's drug use.
Unknown to us, a different student of ours was standing above him, using a high powered telephoto zoom lens to photograph our conversation from a significant distance. Later that week, the student shared these photos with her friends, and eventually they started to appear in some social media accounts.
As soon as we learned of these pictures, we felt absolutely terrible. At the time, we were not necessarily fearful that we had been exposed, or of our own potential consequences. Rather, we felt completely embarrassed and ashamed that we were overheard talking about students in a derogatory manner. We knew that our behavior was unacceptable, unprofessional, and inappropriate. We were also saddened to know that this information would make it appear that we had a low opinion of our students, when in fact the exact opposite was true.
We tried our best to resolve the situation by immediately reporting the information to our superintendent, who reached out to the families of the students involved. We met with one of the students and her mother, to express our extreme and genuine remorse. I drafted a letter to send out to our district families, only to have it almost entirely replaced by a different letter my superintendent commissioned from a community relations director in a neighboring district. That version is what ended up being sent out, and later ended up in the press. (A second published version closer to my original apology is included below.) The second family refused to meet with the us, and instead met with our superintendent to express their indignation. The next day, we were contacted by several local media outlets.
The story broke on a Tuesday night, and was in print Wednesday morning. The response was intense. The phone calls and emails came pouring in. As you can imagine, most were very negative, some quite hostile, and were demanding our immediate dismissal. Although outnumbered, many people also reached out to us to offer their support, I've included some of those messages below. By Wednesday afternoon, we were in our superintendent's office discussing our resignations. We knew that even though the District may not terminate us, there was no way we could stay in the community and lead effectively. We did not want to put the district, the students, parents, and our own families through any sort of long, extended process. We agreed it was in everybody's best interest if we resigned. That was our last day with the District.
We were put on administrative leave while the separation agreement was being drawn up, and the media coverage continued to grow. This had now become a larger story. It was front page news for days, although it felt like weeks. By Friday at noon, our resignations had become public, and eventually the media coverage settled and moved on. That is when my journey began.
I was devastated. I had built up a very successful career in public education over the past twenty years. I was proud of the work that I'd done, the students, families and teachers that I had positively impacted, and my service to my community. None of that mattered any more. Everything seemed to be crashing down because of a text message. I had been vilified. People that I had worked with for decades turned their backs on me.
In addition to the personal loss, I was very ashamed of the embarrassment that I brought upon my family. There was great anxiety about how we would financially survive. My career seemed like it was over, forever. I assumed an enormous amount of guilt for causing harm to students, for letting my team down, and for the chaos that I had caused my colleagues and the community. It was a tremendous weight to bear.
Eventually, thanks to the support of my family, some close friends, some long time colleagues, lots of reading, a good amount of therapy, and with time, things got better. One of my former supervisors offered me a teaching position with a non-profit, private school for young students who experience behavioral, emotional, and mental health challenges. Working in this therapeutic environment was also very healing for me, and really helped me get back on my feet. The following year, I returned to a position of administration, although I had to leave Lane County in order to do so. One could say, that eventually everything worked out all right.
So, What Did I Learn?
While the journey was painful, I'm grateful to have emerged on the other side of the experience a better person and a better professional. I'll share some of the lessons that my mistakes have taught me.
First, I was reminded by a former supervisor, "Bracco, I told you never put anything in writing that you don't want on the front page of the newspaper." I had always assumed this advice was in reference to social media, e-mail, or print. However,
I now know that it can include text messages, even when we (wrongly) think that these conversations are private.
Second, I spent some time thinking about "The Four Agreements," from a book by Don Miguel Ruiz. I've done my best to practice these in my professional and personal life, as I have found them to be very useful strategies in living peacefully. In the moment I engaged in this text message exchange, I discovered that I had neglected two of the four agreements: "Always do your best," and "Be impeccable with your word." This experience was a strong reminder of what can happen when we let these practices lapse.
Obviously, this mistake will not be repeated and I feel that I've grown significantly as a professional as a result of this incident. One gift from this error is that it has led also to some much needed and important personal growth as well.
I've discovered that my privilege includes never really having had to experience such trauma, grief, anxiety and depression prior to this incident. These intense feelings helped me develop and cultivate a new sense of compassion, empathy, acceptance, and patience for others. I learned that I had to treat myself in the same regard. I was very sorry for what I said, and for what had happened as a result. I didn't know if others would ever forgive me, but I learned that it was more important that I learn to forgive myself. Developing self-compassion and self-empathy were new concepts for me, and it took some time. Eventually, I came to understand that we can not let others define us.
I also uncovered ed a lot about how society and the media treat public figures who make mistakes out in the open. I learned that what happened as a result of my very visible error was called public shaming, and more recently "cancel culture." We may only be as effective as our last mistake. It was hard not to be hurt by this public scorn, including the commentary that coincided with the media coverage. The court of public opinion is swift and fierce. People that I have never met had formed entire opinions and judgements about me based on this singular incident. They knew nothing about me, my life, my career in education, or my character. However, we are a culture that seems to engage in throwing stones in a new kind of electronic pitchfork mob. There is more about this phenomenon in a book by Ron Johnson called, "So, You've Been Publicly Shamed," or in this article from CNN. I was also inspired by Monica Lewinsky's TED Talk, "The Price of Shame." Since the initial publication of this page, the phenomenon continues to be discussed in articles like this. Personally, I will do my best to never judge someone by their worst public moment, especially when I know the media will only report on the most scandalous of details. I have recently given presentations to students on this topic at Oregon FBLA Leadership Conferences and elsewhere.
Finally, I've learned that things do get better. This article, "Firing Back: How Great Leaders Rebound From Career Disasters," is a great read. While I never would have believed it at the time, I think this experience has had an overall positive impact and has improved my life. I will always be remorseful for my actions and the harm that my words have caused others. I am also thankful for the lessons this life experience has taught me. To paraphrase Pema Chodron (full quote below), experiencing extreme darkness opens the door for us to also experience a much higher level of joy.
(I did receive a public reprimand and was placed on one year of probation by the Teacher Standards and Practices Commission as a result of this incident . You can read the findings in this Stipulation of Facts.)
(Please consider reading the excerpt from Pema Chodron below)
First, I was reminded by a former supervisor, "Bracco, I told you never put anything in writing that you don't want on the front page of the newspaper." I had always assumed this advice was in reference to social media, e-mail, or print. However,
I now know that it can include text messages, even when we (wrongly) think that these conversations are private.
Second, I spent some time thinking about "The Four Agreements," from a book by Don Miguel Ruiz. I've done my best to practice these in my professional and personal life, as I have found them to be very useful strategies in living peacefully. In the moment I engaged in this text message exchange, I discovered that I had neglected two of the four agreements: "Always do your best," and "Be impeccable with your word." This experience was a strong reminder of what can happen when we let these practices lapse.
Obviously, this mistake will not be repeated and I feel that I've grown significantly as a professional as a result of this incident. One gift from this error is that it has led also to some much needed and important personal growth as well.
I've discovered that my privilege includes never really having had to experience such trauma, grief, anxiety and depression prior to this incident. These intense feelings helped me develop and cultivate a new sense of compassion, empathy, acceptance, and patience for others. I learned that I had to treat myself in the same regard. I was very sorry for what I said, and for what had happened as a result. I didn't know if others would ever forgive me, but I learned that it was more important that I learn to forgive myself. Developing self-compassion and self-empathy were new concepts for me, and it took some time. Eventually, I came to understand that we can not let others define us.
I also uncovered ed a lot about how society and the media treat public figures who make mistakes out in the open. I learned that what happened as a result of my very visible error was called public shaming, and more recently "cancel culture." We may only be as effective as our last mistake. It was hard not to be hurt by this public scorn, including the commentary that coincided with the media coverage. The court of public opinion is swift and fierce. People that I have never met had formed entire opinions and judgements about me based on this singular incident. They knew nothing about me, my life, my career in education, or my character. However, we are a culture that seems to engage in throwing stones in a new kind of electronic pitchfork mob. There is more about this phenomenon in a book by Ron Johnson called, "So, You've Been Publicly Shamed," or in this article from CNN. I was also inspired by Monica Lewinsky's TED Talk, "The Price of Shame." Since the initial publication of this page, the phenomenon continues to be discussed in articles like this. Personally, I will do my best to never judge someone by their worst public moment, especially when I know the media will only report on the most scandalous of details. I have recently given presentations to students on this topic at Oregon FBLA Leadership Conferences and elsewhere.
Finally, I've learned that things do get better. This article, "Firing Back: How Great Leaders Rebound From Career Disasters," is a great read. While I never would have believed it at the time, I think this experience has had an overall positive impact and has improved my life. I will always be remorseful for my actions and the harm that my words have caused others. I am also thankful for the lessons this life experience has taught me. To paraphrase Pema Chodron (full quote below), experiencing extreme darkness opens the door for us to also experience a much higher level of joy.
(I did receive a public reprimand and was placed on one year of probation by the Teacher Standards and Practices Commission as a result of this incident . You can read the findings in this Stipulation of Facts.)
(Please consider reading the excerpt from Pema Chodron below)
“Life is glorious, but life is also wretched. It is both. Appreciating the gloriousness inspires us, encourages us, cheers us up, gives us a bigger perspective, energizes us. We feel connected. But if that's all that's happening, we get arrogant and start to look down on others, and there is a sense of making ourselves a big deal and being really serious about it, wanting it to be like that forever. The gloriousness becomes tinged by craving and addiction. On the other hand, wretchedness--life's painful aspect--softens us up considerably. Knowing pain is a very important ingredient of being there for another person. When you are feeling a lot of grief, you can look right into somebody's eyes because you feel you haven't got anything to lose--you're just there. The wretchedness humbles us and softens us, but if we were only wretched, we would all just go down the tubes. We'd be so depressed, discouraged, and hopeless that we wouldn't have enough energy to eat an apple. Gloriousness and wretchedness need each other. One inspires us, the other softens us. They go together.”
― Pema Chödrön, Start Where You Are: A Guide to Compassionate Living
“Life is glorious, but life is also wretched. It is both. Appreciating the gloriousness inspires us, encourages us, cheers us up, gives us a bigger perspective, energizes us. We feel connected. But if that's all that's happening, we get arrogant and start to look down on others, and there is a sense of making ourselves a big deal and being really serious about it, wanting it to be like that forever. The gloriousness becomes tinged by craving and addiction. On the other hand, wretchedness--life's painful aspect--softens us up considerably. Knowing pain is a very important ingredient of being there for another person. When you are feeling a lot of grief, you can look right into somebody's eyes because you feel you haven't got anything to lose--you're just there. The wretchedness humbles us and softens us, but if we were only wretched, we would all just go down the tubes. We'd be so depressed, discouraged, and hopeless that we wouldn't have enough energy to eat an apple. Gloriousness and wretchedness need each other. One inspires us, the other softens us. They go together.”
― Pema Chödrön, Start Where You Are: A Guide to Compassionate Living