Apologies to all of my cyber friends here at TV.com, and especially to the two best editors around who were kind enough to make me Trusteds on their show pages, for my lack of presence on this site for the past, oh, few months.

Long story not quite so long:

Last spring the wise and beneficent (insert sarcasm) Board of Education of my school hired a new Headmaster. Said Headmaster swept in here on a promise of cleaning up the budget, clearing the decks, mopping up the poop-deck, and being the proverbial new broom that did away with all the detritus that kept our small school barely keeping its metaphorical head above water. (Oh, did I mention that he was ex-Navy?) So, on a wing and a prayer, or perhaps a slap and a tickle, away we went.

Let me just say this... all teachers are profilers of a sort. We know which kids shouldn't ever sit together. We know who we're going to have a problem with from day one. And we know which bright, beaming faces are mere coverings for deep and malicious little hearts. Yeah, I've only had to call my good buddy at the FBI twice about possible, er, problem situations. So to say that I had this guy's number after his first five minute talk with me is not bragging - it just is.

Short history of our school: 30 years. I've been there for 10. Only child graduated 3 years ago. 3 Headmasters in the past 3 years. Yeah, a bit of turmoil there.

So the man starts. Fires two teachers with over 20 years experience. Changes everything without understanding anything about our school, this area, our kids, or the amazing variety of skills our faculty has at his disposal. Oh, did I mention he believes he knows everything?

We tried. I tried. Others tried. Offering advice. Offering our time and energy to help. Offering our experience. Well, guess what? (Some of you might know this already, but I had to learn it yet again.) Some people don't want help. And, somewhere around December, we all realized that we'd dug our own graves.

Never learned how to suck up. Never wanted to. I can be a good diplomat when I try, and I've had enough sleep, and coffee, but it's not a guarantee. My mouth opens, words come out. It is so hard to go from valued to valueless. From being respected to being dismissed. And it became obvious that yes-men only need apply.

So, we've kept it together - for the kids. It's always been for the kids. And this senior class is astounding in their maturity and charity when the senior year had everything - all rights and privileges - stripped away by the man. So we hung in there.

But it's one week and two days from graduation and the masks are slipping off. He's fired me and everyone else who doesn't ask how high. He's fired people who've been there for 20 years and took huge pay cuts to remain working at this school that is their heart this year. We're finishing out the year with our eyes on the goal of getting our seniors graduated, but it's becoming harder and harder. One of us just packed up and left last Friday, her teen-age son actually blocking the Headmaster from following her and getting in her face in the parking lot as she left. I'm very proud of him.

So, yeah. It's tough. I've never actually been fired before - I've always seen the handwriting on the wall and dusted off my shoes and moved on to bigger and better things. But, then again, I've never given my heart and soul to something for ten years before only to be told that I am not important.

Hurt? Yeah, go figure. It turns out I have feelings after all. But worried is my feeling of choice. Worried about the few students that remain. Worried about my 50+ friends who are suddenly out of work - husband and wife.

Starting to know how Jim and Tim must feel having put so much effort into something and been told, "Sorry, we don't like your ideas. We like these other ideas that are stupid much better. Go away."

So, you ever been fired?