Radical by Michelle Rhee

Author:Michelle Rhee
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Publisher: HarperCollins
Published: 2012-12-28T00:00:00+00:00

7

Students First

The day after the screening of Waiting for “Superman,” KMJ and I flew to Hawaii. We had planned the trip months before. It was originally supposed to be our honeymoon, but we had postponed the wedding because it was turning into a media circus. Instead the trip was now supposed to be a time to celebrate Adrian Fenty’s primary victory. I figured I would want to relax and recharge for the next four years as chancellor. As it turned out, I needed the recharging, but for very different reasons.

I felt like a zombie, but I could neither sleep nor turn off my mind.

On the flight west I closed my eyes and kept replaying the calls and conversations the day after Fenty lost. Dozens came in from my friends and allies in the education reform movement. They went like this:

“Wow, I can’t believe your boss lost. What are you going to do now?”

Or: “What a surprise! We didn’t even know Fenty was in trouble. I feel so bad, I didn’t even help!”

And: “Fenty was the most important politician in the country for education reform. I can’t believe this happened.”

I sat up straight next to KMJ: “That’s why we’re losers,” I said.

“What?” he asked.

The unions knew Fenty’s primary was crucial. They took polls and surveyed D.C. politics and realized Fenty was vulnerable. They figured they had a chance to take him out and sideline me at the same time. The Teamsters and public employee unions from up and down the East Coast brought in members with vans to get people to the polls. The teachers unions threw in $1 million.

“They knew what was at stake,” I said. “They were focused. And they got what they wanted. We have no such equivalent on the education reform side. All I got were these sad condolence calls. Where was the reform movement’s political muscle?”

“The bottom line,” said KMJ, “is that we education reformers don’t know how to play the game. They do. You’re right. We are losers. But it doesn’t have to continue to be that way. We can beat them. We’re smarter than they are, and we have right on our side.”

I was angry. Then I was tired. Then I slept. I didn’t like being a loser.

WHEN WE SETTLED INTO our hotel, KMJ set the tone and gave a few clear orders: no BlackBerry, no phone, no work.

“It’s time to turn it off,” he said. “We are going to relax.”

Relaxing was also something we weren’t very good at. But this time was different. We snorkeled; we swam; we kayaked. We rode zip lines and flew over the islands in a helicopter. Our vacations in the past had been a mix of work and play. These three days were pure play. It was the first time either of us had ever completely stopped working before.

On day four, sensing my angst, he gave in. “Okay. I know you’re dying. You can check,” he said.

“Michelle, this is Rahm Emanuel.”

“Michelle, Chris Christie. I told you I’d be calling, and I’m good for my word!”

Meg Whitman had called.

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