This could be the first coup ever launched from the Macaroni Grill. It's midafternoon on a recent weekday, and seated at three conjoined tables in the back of the Sahara Avenue restaurant are eight women—current and former Wendell Williams Elementary staff and PTA members here to privately vent about Principal Brenda McKinney.
"We've been waiting for you," retired art teacher Louise Symonette says. The 19 1/2-year school district veteran retired two years ago because, she says, "I couldn't deal with her [McKinney] any more."
Though Symonette doesn't mind going on the record, most of the ladies don't want their names used or any identifying characteristics printed. In fact, much of the meeting feels clandestine, as though what's being said here should stay here. Several small, closely guarded stacks of papers—evidence, they say, of McKinney's two-year reign of tyranny at the West Las Vegas elementary—sit on the table. One woman—"Call me Teacher X," she implores—is visibly nervous, as if this whole thing is a setup and McKinney is outside, waiting.
"Every day I went into work, I was scared," she says.
Teacher X claims that McKinney ostracized her, questioned anyone she talked to and routinely visited her classes to nitpick her teaching methods. When she told McKinney she was transferring schools, she says the principal accused her of stealing books. Fearful of additional retribution, Teacher X says she quit a day early.
"I didn't want to be harassed any more."
Of course, employee-boss rifts are common in most workplaces—schools are no exception. Yet tension between teachers and principals takes on a larger significance because it can directly impact the quality of education on a campus.
By the time there was a break in the venting—the woman stopped just long enough to order food—three hours had passed. If what they were saying is true—that McKinney harassed staff, berated students, bullied the parent-teacher association, converted the PTA account into her own, ran off dozens of teachers and pushed staffers into retirement, all without repercussion from district administrators, board trustees and the superintendent—then she might be the worst principal in the Valley.
"We're not trying to be vindictive," Symonette says. "We just want what's best for the students, and she isn't it."
There were no overt signs of trouble earlier this year as the 100 Black Men of Las Vegas operated their mentoring program. Dressed in suits and ties, a dozen or so members reviewed homework and quizzed a group of boys on black history. The men had an easy rapport with their charges, gently prodding them to answer questions or, in the case of one upset youngster, getting him to open up about his problems. Things seemed on the up-and-up around the school, too: quiet hallways and attentive students. Marcel Baker, education chairman for the 100 Black Men of Las Vegas, says McKinney has been supportive of their program and of educating students, many of whom are among the poorest in the district.
"We've heard complaints from teachers about her management style, but we've never experienced anything negative," Baker says. "She has been behind us 100 percent. She's even incorporated our program into the school day. If certain kids in our program are acting out, she'll call us, and we can come in and talk to the kids and meet with the parents."
Told of the 100 Black Men's experience, third-grade teacher Diane Campbell says that's how McKinney works: Smile in your face and stab you in the back. "She's talked bad about them, too."
Judging by the mini-file in front of her and the directorial way she conducts the meeting—constantly interjecting when other women are talking, reminding them to bring up this incident or that incident—Campbell is one of the coup's leaders. She's intense and incensed, frowning at the mention of every McKinney indiscretion. Campbell says some excellent teachers have left since McKinney came in the fall of 2004—either run out, beaten down or both.
"When people hear that you teach at Wendell Williams Elementary, they say 'Oh, why would you teach there?'" she says.
She pulls out a sheet.
On it are names grouped into two categories: staff who've complained about McKinney (identified by checkmark) and those who've left the school (identified by an X). Of the 64 names, 37 have checkmarks. There are 17 X's representing teachers who left in the 2005-2006 academic year; a dozen departed in 2004-05.
"This is a school that needs good teachers, and you're running out the teachers who want to teach here, who want to help these kids," Campbell says.
She pulls out more sheets.
They're photocopies of the April 2005 CCEA Express, the newsletter of the Clark County Education Association, the 12,000-member teachers union. She flips to the back page, pointing to two categories highlighted in yellow marker—lowest-rated administration by zone and lowest-rated administration by level; Wendell Williams Elementary made both lists. Another part of the newsletter ranks Wendell Williams' administration as the district's fourth worst. McKinney earned 1.75 out of five on the CCEA's performance evaluation, which scores principals in 26 categories such as "evenhandedly supervises without favoritism" and "sets and maintains realistic discipline standards for pupils." Mckinney got 1s in both areas.
Complaining hasn't helped, the women say, be it up the ladder (to associate superintendent of human resources George Ann Rice, former northeast regional superintendent Marsha Irvin, school board trustee Shirley Barber, former superintendent Carlos Garcia and current supe Walt Rulffes) or to the unions (CCEA and the Education Support Employees Association).
School district spokeswoman Pat Nelson declined comment, citing confidentiality rules. Irvin was on vacation and couldn't be reached. Barber and Rulffes didn't respond to e-mail queries. An ESEA official referred calls to the CCEA. CCEA President Mary Ella Holloway says no member at Wendell Williams elementary has filed a complaint with the union. "We did get one anonymous call about Wendell Williams and several calls from folks who no longer work there," she says, "but our records don't show any actively employed teacher calling us about problems."
Though ESEA and CCEA members can file grievances if they have problems with administrators, unions typically intervene before things get that bad, Holloway says. But unless someone files a formal grievance, she says, there's nothing she can do.
"One of the problems we have is that people who call us say they're having problems but don't say who they are," she says. "They may fear retribution, but the teacher has to be willing to file a complaint and use their name. You can't just call and say somebody is being picked on."
Whereas the CCEA survey presented a snapshot of teacher discontent, Holloway says the Nevada Teaching and Learning Conditions online survey, done earlier this year, might provide a broader picture. Part of the collective bargaining agreement between the CCEA and the school district and conducted by the Center for Teaching Quality in Chapel Hill, North Carolina, the scientific survey assessed teacher empowerment. (Collective bargaining teams from the CCED and the district devised the questions.) One of the survey's goal, Holloway says, was to prove that teacher unhappiness was real.
"Principals said teachers have a high degree of input in schools, but teachers disagree, so there is a disconnect," she says. "[You should] ask the school district to release the results. It would be interesting to see the results for Wendell Williams Elementary."
A school official, who requested anonymity because of the sensitivity of the subject, e-mailed the Weekly a statement from the district's human-resources department that noted the survey wasn't an assessment on principals. "The survey was not intended as a report card, but rather as a tool to maintain or improve areas at a school."
"I've been silent these past few months because I didn't want anyone to get in trouble by associating with me. [I was instructed to have no contact with staff]. New adventures await me so it is with sadness that I am not there to help you and, yet, with joyous peace that I say farewell to Wendell P. Williams ES. I have many splendid memories of the staff, parents and students that have crossed my path during my years at Madison and Williams. ... The struggles that I have had with such vile and venomous administrators at William ES these past two years have been painful. My work ethic and character have never been assaulted with such venom in 40 years with the CCSD as they were by this administrator."
Earnestine Howell exudes sweetness. As the other women vent, the former Williams elementary office manager sits quietly, waiting her turn.
"I can't speak for what happened to everyone else, I can only speak for myself," says Howell, who spent 18 years at the 53-year-old school. (Formerly Madison Elementary, the 1030 J Street campus was renamed Wendell Williams Elementary in 2003).
In 40 years, Howell had worked for quite a few difficult administrators. While she encountered personality conflicts, they weren't knock-down, drag-out affairs and never involved her work ethic or integrity. Until McKinney. She says her job duties were changed constantly, and the principal routinely belittled her. Filing a grievance with the ESEA didn't solve anything. Things worsened, she says, after McKinney didn't have a room when she arrived in Hawaii for an educational conference. Howell says she was blamed for the mix-up.
"She didn't talk to me for 10 days. It became more personal."
Howell pulls an evaluation form and points to the bottom right-hand corner and to the words below her signature—"Signed under duress." Howell says McKinney gave her a memo identifying 20 things she was doing wrong, called her into the office to sign it, then told her she was being evaluated. Howell claims she pressured into signing the evaluation.
"It was my first bad evaluation in 41 years," she says, and she retired soon after. "I didn't want to fight anymore."
Shante Edmond had been patiently waiting her turn, letting others say their piece. She wanted to go last. Edmond has two children at Wendell Williams Elementary and, at McKinney's behest, served as PTA president.
She pulls out two sheets—copies of Bank of America bank statements—and pushes them to the center of the table. The first account belongs to Madison Prime 6 PTA, located at 1030 J Street. It shows a balance of $1,324.84 on August 31, 2004. Beneath it is the September 2004 statement—same balances. A copy of the August 2005 statement shows the same beginning balance, $1,324.84, but an ending balance of $313.84. And the account is no longer in Madison's name—it's in McKinney's.
"Notice anything?" Edmond asks.
The account numbers are the same. Edmond pulls out copies of an August 25, 2005, cashiers check for $1,000 and another check for $313.84.
Edmond says all hell broke loose when she questioned McKinney. McKinney questioned her ethics, she says, and tried to hijack the PTA—telling her that PTA funds should be kept on campus (a violation of PTA rules).
"I resigned rather than put up with this," she says.
Not that it helped. According to notes Edmond faxed to the Weekly, McKinney told newly elected PTA president Joselyn Blanche that she didn't want her handling PTA funds and would have her arrested if she came on school grounds.
Davis, who joined the Macaroni Grill coup midway through the interview, says McKinney was angry about being questioned about the bank transactions. "I was the treasurer, that's what I'm supposed to do," she says.
Edmond and Davis claim McKinney banned PTA events from campus after state PTA officials got involved and Bank of America began investigating the transactions. Everything was supposed to be hashed out at a March 21 PTA meeting. Edmond says McKinney apologized and repaid the $1,000 "with a check from the school bank." She says state PTA officials recommended that Wllliams' PTA require three signatures on the account, send members to an upcoming PTA conference and quash the matter.
A call to the Nevada PTA seeking comment wasn't returned before press time.
Three days after the meeting, Joselyn Blanche resigned as Williams' PTA president, lambasting McKinney in a letter to Rulffes: "Since the school year started, I have witnessed unprofessional behavior from the administrator (Ms. McKinney) of the school. As a concerned parent, I can no longer allow it to continue. ... Since becoming president of the PTA in December 2005, I have not only witnessed her misconduct, but also have had to hear her talk about her personal and work issues. ... I have witnessed on several occasions, where Ms. McKinney would speak to a staff member in an unprofessional tone and manner. After witnessing her violent behavior at the PTA executive meeting on Tuesday, March 21, 2006, I was frightened to be around her. ... As the principal, Ms. McKinney is supposed to be a role model for these children, someone they can feel safe and secure around ... As a parent, I am appalled that our hard-earned tax-paying money is paying for her salary. ... I am requesting that there be a full investigation and Ms. McKinney is removed from her position. She is not only hurting her staff, but she is now affecting the children."
As far as the bank controversy, the district's Internal Audit Department weighed in with a May 24 interoffice memo from department director Lyn Vinson to northeast region assistant superintendent Kate Kinley: "The PTA account was changed from the school's old name, Madison Prime 6 PTA, to the principal's name. Under no circumstance should a PTA account be changed to an individual name. The principal should not have sole authority to write checks out of the account. All PTA checks have to have two signers. Prudent business practices necessitate checks made payable to any of the authorized check signatories be signed by two other authorized check signers. The check should have been written to Wendell Williams PTA. Additionally, the PTA bank account statements and correspondence should be forwarded to the PTA unopened and should be reconciled and maintained by the PTA, not by school personnel."
The memo notes a general lack of documentation on disbursements and expenses; that minutes of the August PTA meeting—during which the committee approved using $1,000 in PTA funds for staff and student recognition—weren't signed by a PTA member or officer; and that McKinney repaid the $1,000 with a check from the school bank check and not her personal funds. The memo also warns against keeping PTA funds on campus, which Edmond claims McKinney pushed for.
"PTA funds should never be stored by the school," the memo reads. "The school increases its liability by safeguarding assets from outside organizations in the school safe."
Brenda McKinney is a bit taken aback by all the vitriol. Some of it was to be expected, she says, because Wendell Williams Elementary was headed in a new direction.
Its students consistently scored among the district's worst on standardized tests. Changing that required hard work. Which meant disallowing mistreatment of students—"some teachers didn't like that I didn't allow them to yell at students any more," she says—and temporarily suspending fun things like flag football and dances to focus on academic achievement. "Some folks weren't happy about that, even though we had fifth-grade students crying because they passed the writing proficiency."
If she is guilty of anything, McKinney says, it's caring too much. She mandates that staff respects students and says she's never yelled at or mistreated anyone. "I worked 13- to 15-hour days to make this school better," she says.
And more people than not have bought into her academic-focused philosophy, she says, noting that Williams was one of a handful of schools that made adequate yearly progress in standardized test scores.
"This should be a time for celebration. When I came here, a teacher told me that I was the third principal in three years and I was going to be run out of here. Well, I'm here, and I'm not going to entertain any negativity. We have positive staff. Some people had issues with us moving in this new direction. There were a select group of folks who were not happy with that new philosophy. I'm willing to put my name out there, and I think it's cowardly if people who aren't happy are not going to put their names out there."
McKinney, a 25-year district veteran in her third year at the helm of Williams, speaks less freely about the specific allegations.
The bank account conversion?
"It did not happen."
Allegations about bullying staff?
"Untrue."
That she runs teachers away?
"Teachers are free to work where they want."
It's also untrue that she's pushed staff into retirement.
"I wish all retirees well."
The CCEA's low ratings of her administration?
It's like being right-handed, she says, and "eating with your left hand. If you've never had to do a lesson plan or these types of things that help students, then you might not like it."
Sensing she might be talking to much, McKinney clams up, trying to steer the conversation back toward the positive. Partnerships with 100 Black Men of Las Vegas, Sierra Vista High School and Richmond American Homes have put the school on the right track with mentoring and tutoring programs. Her goal is to continue that momentum.
But what about the internal audit department findings and the alleged troubles with the school PTA?
McKinney clams up and goes off the record. She's worried about saying too much.
"This [controversy] has nothing to do with me. Anytime there's change, you're going to have challenges and speed bumps," she says. "We've had to overcome obstacles."
Before she leaves Macaroni Grill, Teacher X wishes her former colleagues well.
"I don't want other teachers to go through what I went through," she says. "There were a bunch of good teachers at the school, but many have left, and that will impact the children."
Perhaps fittingly, Suynn Davis, the former treasurer, is the last woman to speak. A parent volunteer, grandmother of two Wendell Williams' pupils, Davis was a campus fixture, there from 7:30 a.m. to 4:30 p.m., every day.
She says McKinney begged her to be the PTA treasurer. When Davis requested financial data from 2005 so she could create a new budget, she says McKinney began harrassing her.
As midday shifted into afternoon, the stories continued. A few were so engrossed in their tales that they forgot to order food.
Symonette says she can go on for days.
"They always talk about having a teacher shortage," she says, "with principals like her, you're always going to have a teacher shortage."