The Missionary

When he first got into teaching fourteen years ago, Beightol recalled, Miami's teachers were the highest paid in the state. Their union, led by the steel-fisted Pat Tornillo, was unstoppable. But he proved more a capo di tutti capi than an idealist. After leading the UTD for almost 40 years, he was convicted in 2003 of stealing or misappropriating three million dollars from the union and took up residency in a federal prison. The American Federation of Teachers, the national teachers' union, swept in and took over for two years, rewriting the constitution and bylaws. Karen Aronowitz, a decidedly unflashy, soft-spoken former high school English teacher, took the reins in 2005. (Aronowitz could not be reached for comment.)

Beightol, a longtime outspoken union steward at Krop, was less than happy with the UTD's post-Tornillo evolution and hammered away at what he considered a lack of "fight." He presented himself as the "militant" alternative, believing the righteousness of his cause would carry the day. Factions formed among Miami's 21,000 teachers, and lines were drawn.

Beightol's dispatches to supporters were combative, frequently castigating district administrators and criticizing UTD leadership for rolling over. He would "be a bulldog" for teachers. His lack of diplomacy bordered on naiveté. Given its weakened state, the UTD was not in a position to twist the arms of a powerful superintendent and school board.

The unfolding drama came to a head in mid-October, when administrators censured Beightol for his broadcast e-mails, which he sent via his district account. That morning Beightol was scheduled to meet with Krop's principal to decide his fate. Then the hallway outside Beightol's classroom began to fill with his students and fellow teachers. "My doorway packed with bodies of teachers holding signs that spoke of the right to free speech, assembly, and to redress grievances," Beightol wrote in an e-mail that afternoon. The meeting was postponed.

The next day Beightol didn't make it to his classroom. As he pulled into Krop's parking lot, he noticed three school police cars parked out front. The assistant principal lifted a walkie-talkie to his mouth as Beightol rolled past. Krop's principal approached the teacher and, with a trembling hand, held out several forms for him to sign on his truck's hood. Beightol was to leave the grounds immediately. His reassignment: office duty at a bus depot, where he spent the next few days in a ten-foot-by-ten-foot room reading and writing notes for his legal defense, should it come to that. His offer to work on bus engines or clean up had been rejected.

In Beightol's classroom, next to a white dry-erase board on which is scrawled "All light comes from relaxing/falling electrons," a relic of that time hangs on the wall: a large poster inscribed with "Please Bring Him Back," bearing the signatures of dozens of teachers and students. Posted by the door are three lined spiral notebook sheets, each emblazoned with a single word:

Long
Live
Beightol

His critics were equally vocal. On a Yahoo listserv for Miami teachers, someone using the screen name "Urall scabs" chided Beightol's supporters: "As for those who say 'vote no' to a contract, what you really mean is vote no to any contract that SHAWN didn't negotiate. He is your hero, your messiah. Please, what a joke."

Paul Moore, a member of the UTD's executive board and a veteran social studies teacher at Miami Carol City Senior High School, went a step further. In a rambling October post on the listserv, Moore took a not-too-subtle swipe at Beightol. Urging unity, Moore decried "our misguided brothers and sisters [who] have chosen martyrdom over leadership." Weaving into the thread Rosa Parks, Hurricane Katrina, Detroit's economy, and President Bush's recent visit to a Washington-area school, Moore continued:

Some have chosen to form a divisive cult inside the United Teachers of Dade rather than fight for the unity of the whole public school workforce. Some have chosen to call people to reckless rather than effective disciplined actions. Men like David Koresh in Waco and Jim Jones in Guyana moved people in much the same way with pie-in-the-sky ravings. But to what end? Is the Kool-Aid to be our destiny?

Sounding more restrained on the phone recently, Moore described the contract as "the best option" for a union struggling to find its footing in the wake of "near-destruction" by Tornillo. "We have breathing room now," he said.

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In mid-November, as a contract was beginning to look like a done deal, Beightol called for one last rally. On a clear, sunny Saturday morning, about 60 teachers marched from the school district headquarters downtown to Bayfront Park, where they gathered at the small amphitheater.