Sunday, April 20, 2014

Superintendent in my novel No Child Left Alive is self-absorbed publicity seeker

(The following post is reprinted from the July 18, 2013 Turner Report. Any similarities between the fictional superintendent from my novel and the superintendent of the Joplin R-8 School District are purely coincidental, of course.)

Since there has been quite a response to the Turner Report post last night that revealed the Joplin R-8 School District is going to pay $15,000 for people to manage the schools' Facebook pages and then the story today examining the portion of the district's improvement plan, which specifies how it is going to promote itself (including Superintendent C. J. Huff giving State of the District addresses) I thought it was time to relate an incredible coincidence.

The administration at the Franklin Heights Unified School District in my novel No Child Left Alive is also quite taken with the idea of promoting the good things that it has going. I am providing a couple of excerpts below.

***

As the head of the Franklin Heights Unified School District’s technology department hunched over his computer, Carlton Dunn looked over his shoulder, peering intently at the screen.
“What do you think?” he asked.
“I like the profile shot.”
Dunn nodded. “I do, too. Let’s go with it.”
“Are you absolutely sure you don’t want to go with a picture of the high school or maybe a cougar. That is our school mascot. People are familiar with it.”
“No, no,” Dunn said, his voice ringing with certainty. “The people in this school district need to be reassured that I am in charge.”
“I know I’m reassured,” the tech chief said, though Dunn did not pick up on the trace of sarcasm in his voice.
“Good. That’s the way everyone else will feel, too. Go ahead and put it on line.”
“Are you sure?”
“Absolutely. It is high time that we spread the word online about all of the good things that are going on here.”
“Well, start spreading the news. We’re on Facebook.”
Dunn admired the page. “I’ll send out an e-mail to the staff. Everyone will ‘like’ us on Facebook and we will offer a bonus to the staff member who successfully invites the most people to our page. I will have our new public relations coordinator start typing up positive information to put on the page every day. Isn’t it exciting?”
“Oh, yeah. No doubt about it. When did we get a public relations coordinator?”
“I hired her today. She was a steal for $80,000 a year.”
“The taxpayers are lucky to have you in charge of their money.”

“Of course they are and this way we can be sure that they know that. Now tell me one more thing- When you get our Twitter account set up, will we able to have my picture on it, too?”

***

The first 16 girls entered the second floor bathroom, did what they had to do, gossiped about boys and discussed the pros and cons of various and sundry sexual positions, and even had one near fight.
It was just a typical day.
Even the crude “Out of Order” sign on the third stall didn’t put a dent in the traffic or slow things down…until the clear red pool of blood seeped out from under the stall and onto thetile floor outside.
A sophomore opened the door and discovered the lifeless body of one of the school’s regular substitute teachers, Dorenda Plumb. At one time, Mrs. Plumb had been an English teacher at Franklin Heights High, but after taking maternity leave with her third child, she decided not to go back into the classroom on a full-time basis. Since that time, she had been at the top of the list when substitutes were called.
During the current school year, with teachers gone to one meeting after another, and others just calling in sick to get out of going to one meeting after another, she had been subbing nearly every day.
Abigail Saucier and Stanley Kramer were in a meeting in Carlton Dunn’s office when he received word of the death.
“They’re sure she is dead?” Dunn asked. He nodded as he received a response.  “I suppose suicide has been ruled out?” Dunn paused. “I suppose suicide has been ruled out?” He continued nodding. “Thirty stab wounds, you say?”
A few moments later, when the call ended, Dunn breathed in deeply and then exhaled. “This is not a good day for a murder,” he said. “We have the TV stations and the Daily News coming to the high school so we can announce our new initiative for the homeless.”
“I don’t think you have to worry about the reporters showing up,” Kramer said.
“I suppose not.  I’ll need to call her husband and give him our condolences.”
“What will we tell him?” Kramer asked.
“What can we tell him?” Abigail responded. “He just lost his wife and their three kids have just lost their mother.”
“It will be tough to spin this in a positive way,” Dunn said, staring out the window.
“Do the police have any suspects?” Abigail asked.
“Not yet. It has to be a janitor.”
“Why do you say that?”
“We can’t afford to lose any more students if we are going to improve our graduation rate.”
“Maybe we will be lucky and she was killed by an underclassman,” Kramer said.
“I hadn’t thought of that. That would be just as good as a janitor.” It was the first time Dunn had smiled during the conversation.
He began pacing the floor, wearing a path between his desk and the door. “We will have the press conference just as planned, but we will delay the announcement of the homeless initiative.” As Dunn passed his desk, he punched the button on the intercom. “Celia, put the following message on the district Facebook page. Are you ready?” Dunn continued pacing as he dictated the message. “We are all saddened by the loss of Dorenda Plummer…”
“Plumb,” Abigail corrected.
“We are all saddened by the loss of Dorenda Plumb, a longtime employee of the Franklin Heights Unified School District. Our staff will offer the police department our full cooperation in investigating Mrs. Plummer’s death.”
“Mrs. Plumb’s,” Abigail corrected.
“If this is determined to be a murder…
“She was stabbed more than 30 times!”
“If this is determined to be a murder, it will be the first time in the 89-year history of the Franklin Heights Unified School District that a substitute teacher has been killed on our watch. We are proud of the incredible protection that we provide to the teachers and staff. When substitutes come to our school, they know the odds are heavily against them being murdered. Let me see that before you post it, Celia.”
Dunn looked at the assistant superintendents. “That is the way we are going to deal with this murder.”
“You don’t think she was killed by that Salazar thug, do you?” Kramer asked.
Dunn shook his head. “No, he’s a partner in our graduation initiative. He knows that murdering substitute teachers is bad for business.”
***
No Child Left Alive is available online at Amazon and locally at Always Buying Books, Changing Hands Book Shoppe, and Vintage Stock on the Mall in Joplin, and at Pat's Books in Carthage.

5 comments:

Anonymous said...

I wonder if the fictional Franklin Heights pays $15,000 a year for Facebook updates, too. They appear to have a hiring problem. And a spending problem. Hmm. Conceited, self-aggrandizing super...no wonder this book caused such a stir. The truth hurts!!

Anonymous said...

I wonder if Dunn cries during every speech.

Anonymous said...

I think I was at some of the meetings in this book.

Randy said...

6:09: He will in the sequel.

Randy said...

6:09: He will in the sequel.