Matt & Zoe - Charles Sheehan-Miles Page 0,14
a bullying-prompted suicide made international news a few years ago. Sometimes penalties are too harsh and sometimes incidents are swept under the rug. Blakely’s daughter caught the wrong end of that extreme—a series of twitter posts including some graphic photoshopped images of another girl resulted in her being thrown out of high school for a year. I’m not supposed to know any details about that, but the fact is—everyone knows. There are few secrets in a town this size.
I’m grateful my secrets are my own.
The other school committee member is Susan Greeley. Susan is younger than her counterpart, thirty or so, and she has two children at the elementary school—one of them was in my class last year. Susan is reasonable and well liked, and I suspect she’s here to soften whatever blow is coming.
Blakely leans forward and says, “Let’s bring this meeting to order then. Susan, can you take minutes? I’d like to record everyone who is present.”
Susan nods, her face a little strained. She begins writing on a pad of paper, as Blakely speaks.
“Mister Paladino, first of all, I hope you are doing okay. Your accident yesterday, was it serious? Any injuries?”
I shrug. “My car may be totaled, but no one injured. So that’s good news.”
“Well, then. Let’s get to business. Has the union accepted our latest proposal?”
I shake my head. “I’m afraid not. The proposal still doesn’t address our primary concerns. First is the elimination of department head positions and replacing them with this curriculum coordinator. We’ve addressed this several times—you’re giving teachers the same workload for this position, but taking away the extra pay. That’s not acceptable. It’s not acceptable that you did it by fiat after the union’s proposal last Spring.”
Blakely shakes her head. “That’s an unfair characterization. The school committee acted out of fiscal needs, not—”
“You eliminated the position after the union demanded a pay increase.”
“The Department Head positions are not negotiable—”
I interrupt. “During our last union meeting, the members agreed to file suit for unfair labor practices.”
The room drops into silence. Barrington, who has been silent up until this point, clears his throat. “Do you think that’s wise, Matt?”
“Mister Barrington, the decision was unanimous. You changed the terms of employment for all of the department heads without consulting the union or modifying their contracts. The lawsuit was a compromise position. A significant number of the teachers are arguing for a walkout over the health insurance and retirement provisions.”
Barrington looks frustrated. “There will be no walkout while I’m superintendent.”
“Then I would urge you and the school committee to come up with some kind of compromise, because in the absence of an agreement, that’s what is going to happen.”
Peggy says in a stern voice, “Superintendent, you won’t intimidate the teachers of this town like you and your football jock friends used to do when you were a kid.”
Barrington flushes red. “Mrs. Young, you can’t—”
“I’m seventy years old. I’d already been a teacher for decades when you were a pimply boy in my freshman English class. And I’m telling you now, if you don’t concede on something then you’ll have to figure out how you’re going to educate the children of this town without teachers.”
Blakely’s mouth forms a prim line. “It seems we are at an impasse.”
I sigh. “So you don’t have any alternative? No new proposal?”
Blakely shakes her head. “No. This is as far as we go.”
I look to my left. Tyler frowns and nods. I look to my right. Peggy looks resigned. I nod slightly, then say, “Miss Blakely, Mister Barrington. On behalf of the South Hadley Education Association, I’m informing you that you have a one-week deadline. If the school committee is unable to consider a compromise by next Thursday at midnight, then the union will vote on a strike.”
Barrington jabs a finger toward me. “You’ll regret this, Matt. Don’t think I won’t forget it.”
I swallow. Barrington likely isn’t making empty threats. I’ve heard rumors of retaliation against teachers he doesn’t like.
Blakely stands. “We’re done here.”
My chair scrapes against the floor as we all come to our feet. “Mister Barrington… Miss Blakely … Miss Greeley. Thank you for your time.”
I don’t trust myself to say anything appropriate as I lead the others out of the office.
Chapter Five
Miss Welch? (Zoe)
“I don’t wanna eat my vegetables,” Jasmine says for the four-hundredth time. Just in case I didn’t hear her before. It’s been a little more than a week since I came home, and her grief is starting to turn sullen.
I wave a fork in her