Hog Heaven: A Test of Faith - handling by school administrator of criticism resulting from science fair incident

School Administrator, Nov, 2000 by Thomas W. Harvey Jr.

How one school leader overcame the most unlikely of controversies and personal doubts to regain his passion for education

The sharing of this true story is personal. I was a member of the staff at a small school in east Texas at the time. As principal of Woodville High School, I was thrust into a yearlong public relations nightmare.

The nightmare began when a young student in our Future Farmers of America club discovered that his project for the county fair, a hog carefully and proudly groomed, did not qualify for competition. With his animal a few pounds shy of the required 200-lb. mark, the student was advised by a bystander at the weigh-in to "drench" the animal. Drenching is a procedure where fluid is forced down an animal's esophagus with an instrument made for this purpose. Normally, the procedure allows medicine to be administered to sick animals, although it also is permitted in some livestock shows as a way to add body shape and physical line to an animal.

The hapless student, following the ill advice, forced water down the hog with neither training nor proper equipment. He simply hoped the weight of the water would help him meet the weight requirement. The hog met the standard at the second weigh-in. Unfortunately, the distraught animal died about one hour later, probably due to stress.

While tragic, the story had only just begun. A letter to the editor by a concerned local resident criticizing the situation was published a few weeks later in the Tyler County Booster, the local weekly newspaper, in October 1994. The following February, it was picked up in Ann Landers' syndicated advice column. Landers paraphrased the letter, which accused us of negligence, and she added her own editorial comments in a second column one month later. This had an immediate reaction, which turned my life upside down.

Now the world knew of this unfortunate episode. Looking back, I concede I learned a lot about myself, about the role of school administrators and about mass communication in the modern era.

It's a Small World

Changes in society, sparked by technology, have roared into our lives in recent years. Nowhere does this seem more dramatic than how news and information is shared instantaneously and globally. I recall the news media coverage during Desert Storm as a turning point. Throughout the war, Americans found themselves on the 50-yard line, instantly informed of every major development, in a sort of play-by-play commentary on every Scud missile rocketing through the sky.

Time and space between events disappeared, and news coverage of the war was constant.

In this new world of rapid-fire electronic and broadcast media, the line between fact and opinion often becomes blurred. Web sites run by anyone with a high-speed modem and a desire to be an "expert" pass along unconfirmed and spurious information as fact. Melodramatic talk shows thrive on TV and radio. The more bizarre the tale and more explosive the emotions, the bigger the audience and the higher the ratings.

Being aware of this cultural dynamic, I anticipated a swift and harsh reaction, fueled by the media's portrayal of our role in the hog's death. The day after the fair I contacted the superintendent to make her aware of the circumstances. We initiated steps to assist our agricultural science teachers (one in her second year of teaching, the other a rookie), as well as the fair officials, that would ensure this type of accident never happened again. This included formulating acceptable practices for Future Farmers of America members competing in livestock shows.

Predictably, within a few days of the incident, the first letter to the editor appeared in the local paper. Although the letter writer embellished the facts and added erroneous details, we took great care in our response not to challenge the author. While we could have debated issues one by one, we believed the best approach was to address the hog's death with a description of how we would guarantee no recurrence of this tragedy. We feared a public refutation could create an atmosphere in which others in our small community would be reluctant to discuss problems related to our schools.

On a personal level, I was disappointed and embarrassed to see my name in print in this manner. The letter presented me as a callous, indifferent school administrator. Yes, I was at the fair on the day of the incident. I was there to support our students and staff and as the father of a young participant who had his own project. I did not witness the drenching incident or weigh-in.

Even with my ego jarred, I ignored the comments and took it on the chin for my staff and the student involved. The student needed no punishment for his action nor did the faculty members who were involved in the fair. Humiliation of an adolescent was the farthest thing from my mind.

Professional growth was the first item on my agenda. As principal, I wanted to help teachers through this ordeal and focus on preventing similar problems. I felt confident the community knew the real me. The public knew the teachers and student. They also knew the complainant. Because of the close-knit nature of the community, many residents had been at the fair or heard about the happenings from someone who was there.