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The president of the school board called the meeting to order and that was when Maizy noticed Beverly Dumphrey, still looking frail, being accompanied to her seat on the board by her husband.
Maizy let out a deep breath and took a sip from the sweet creamy coffee Heath had handed to her moments before. She smiled when she tasted it and blew him a kiss. It was perfect and such a small thing was a big comfort.
Several minutes passed, with various school district business being handled. Then the school board president acknowledged the high attendance that night and opened the meeting to comments from the floor, after reminding the attendees to be brief if possible.
Lucy rose from her seat and walked to the front. She identified herself as the parent of a student in kindergarten and mentioned that she was also related to Maizy through marriage.
She shared her experience with Maizy as PJ’s teacher and then said, “We have lost an excellent teacher because of an anonymous threat, delivered by a gutless jackal. Maizy was forced to resign because of personal decisions she’s made that had no bearing on this school or her students, when she was faced with the threat of defaming pictures being sent to the national news networks. She resigned her position to save Divine, and this school district, from being dragged through the mud. Ladies and gentlemen, what Maizy does consensually in the privacy of her home is no one’s business but Maizy’s. I strongly protest the resignation of Maizy Owen and ask the board to do something about this situation.”
Maizy sat in stunned silence. She’d never imagined that someone would stand up for her publicly, especially when the issue at hand involved an alternative lifestyle that wasn’t widely understood or accepted outside their circle. She waited for the frowns, the questioning stares from members of the audience.
Amber’s grandfather, Rudy, took the podium next. Normally so soft-spoken and congenial, he leveled his gaze on each of the board members and said, “Instead of expecting our hardworking teachers to cower under such threats, we should be working diligently to find the culprit behind this anonymous threat that cost my granddaughter her beloved teacher. I must protest this resignation that was given under duress. Divine, Texas, is better than this.”
Jasmine’s mother stood before the board, obviously nervous as her voice and hands shook, and explained that Maizy had taken extra time to tutor her daughter the year before. The sweet memory tugged at Maizy’s heart as she recalled the morning Jasmine had read her first sentence all on her own. A light had entered her eyes along with the knowledge of what she’d done, and her struggles to read had turned the corner and she’d gone on to be one of the best readers in the class.
“Jasmine is now thriving as a reader in Ms. Gaylord’s first grade class. How can you so easily let a dedicated teacher go? How can you not defend her against such victimization? I hate that Miss Owen has resigned but understand that she must follow her heart. I don’t see why she can’t have both the love of her heart and the job she loves. I respectfully request that she be reinstated as kindergarten teacher.”
Woody Porter stood to all six and a half feet of his white-haired glory, a mild smile on his face, and walked slowly, with dignity, to the podium as though he was about to give an inaugural address. He’d even dressed in his stately black Western suit for the occasion.
“Many things are wrong with this world, folks, and it’s no secret that it’s trickled down to our institutions of learning. Schools with metal detectors and security guards. Babies having babies. Violence. Drugs.” He paused, letting his words settle, gazed at each board member, and then scanned the crowd, seeming to enjoy the way some of the attendees squirmed under his attention before he continued.
“But it’s a damned crying shame when a quality teacher who is widely admired by her peers is forced to quit her job because some anonymous person doesn’t like how she expresses love, or who she loves. Miss Owen thought more of her elementary school than she thought of the years she spent earning her master’s degree, or the time that she spent learning how to teach young children, or the time, and money, and effort, and heart she put into her job every day. She was the first teacher my granddaughter Ruby ever had and she was wonderful. Ruby told me every day how much she loved being in Miss Owen’s class.
