Was he wearing a bull's-eye?

Fair Target

Timothy Shafer, superintendent in Broken Bow, Neb., always knew he was filling one of society's toughest jobs, but he didn't realize it was now open season on public school leaders.

Shafer did a double-take when he opened an area newspaper, The Grand Island Independent, one morning earlier this year to read this headline: "Shooting superintendent could be OK'd next week."

The news account actually dealt with the pending appointment of a director for a recreational shooting range, but the headline with double meaning left Shafer worrying about the fate of the superintendent in Grand Island, Steve Joel. "I hope he is still among us," mused Shafer.

Bravado for a Beginner

Reputed to be the epitome of unflappability, the new dean of students at Aztec High School in Aztec, N.M., proved himself to be Mr. Cool when he phoned a father to say his child had been suspended for insubordination.

What should have been a routine conversation instead deteriorated into a threat of physical violence.

"I'm coming down there to beat you up!" the parent challenged.

"OK, I'll be here until 4 today, but if that's inconvenient for you, I'll be here at 7:30 in the morning," the dean replied.

The parent proved to be a no-show.

(Source: Cynthia Haller, former teacher, Aztec High School)

Home and Work Combined

While many public school administrators can claim at times to live at the office, a high school principal in Halsey, Ore., actually does.

Michael Bremont found himself spending close to 80 hours a week on the job as principal of Central Linn High School and precious little time with his young family. So Bremont, who is 31, approached Superintendent Max Harrell with an odd request. He wanted to move his family into an unused building on campus.

The school board, figuring it would be able to retain an effective and hardworking administrator, approved the idea. The district spent $2,000 to renovate the place. Bremont now pays $500 a month in rent, plus utility expenses, to live across the parking lot from the school he leads.

"My family is really enjoying the living situation even when we receive visitors at odd hours," Bremont said in an e-mail interview. "Most of them are welcome in our home or on the front porch.

"I can easily handle the 200-foot commute back to the office for late-night business such as responding to this e-mail."

A Rainy Day Plan

Kevin Bright, superintendent in Mason, Ohio, was spending the opening day of school visiting the district's school for 1st and 2nd graders. Everything was amazingly calm as Bright and his assistant superintendent walked through the halls with the school's first-year principal. Suddenly, the anxiety level rose upon the news that it had begun to rain. The principal abandoned the tour.

At the school entrance, there was momentary mayhem as students and teachers were rushing indoors from the soggy playground. Some students were noticeably upset and crying.

A little 1st-grader, noticing Bright's dress attire and apparent official status, tugged on the superintendent's pant leg. "Hey mister, can I talk to you?" the boy inquired.

"Sure," replied Bright. "What do you need?"

With a few crocodile tears welling up, the boy whined, "My hair is wet!"

"Yes, I know, everyone who was outside has wet hair, but the good thing is that it'll dry here pretty soon." Then, a little more emphatically, he said, "Yes, but my shirt is wet too!"

Bright assured him that would dry as well and scooted him on his way with his teacher.

The moral of the story, Bright says, is please don't let it rain in the midst of recess on the first day with 1st graders in a new building before teachers and administrators can go through the playground drill in case of rain.

"It's kind of like telling kindergartners to get in line or get in a circle on the first day," the superintendent concluded, "and they just look at you!"

A Capital Crime

When Craig Laughton was an assistant principal at a middle school several years ago, a student was sent to his office for using profanity in the classroom. This student was a frequent visitor to the office for disciplinary reasons.

At the time, educators in the Edenton, N.C., school district were allowed to use corporal punishment instead of out-of-school suspension as punishment for a serious disciplinary action with parent approval.

When Laughton contacted the student's father at work, he frantically replied, "Wait! Don't do it! Don't do it! I'll be there as soon as I can! Please don't kill my son for cussing out his teacher!"

Laughton assumes the parent thought that he was offering to exact capital punishment as a consequence.

Short humorous anecdotes, quips, quotations and malapropisms for this column relating to school district administration should be addressed to: Editor, The School Administrator, 801 H. Quincy St., Suite 700, Arlington, VA 22203. Fax: [phone]. E-mail: [e-mail]. Upon request, names may be withheld in print.