My Favorite Teacher Sexually Abused a Student, and People Defended Him
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Let’s forget the attention grabbing blog title for a minute. I know that’s hard to do. You’re here reading because it’s provocative and disturbing and grabbed your attention. Still, I need you to forget it for just a minute so I can paint a picture for you…
I attended Thurston High School in Springfield, Oregon (a suburb of Eugene, OR) for my Freshman year in 1999/2000. Please don’t do the math! Thurston was a great public school, and from what I hear, it still is. My brother Easton, who’s twenty-one years younger than I am, is a Freshman at Thurston right now. The school has always been recognized for having fantastic sports and extracurricular activities… dance team, baseball, football, basketball, and theatre.
I’ve never been much of a sports-ball gal. I’ve gravitated towards the stage at multiple points in my life. At Thurston, I joined the theatre program and took part in plays like Hello Dolly and one acts, along with participating in every possible theatre class available including improv, which was so much fun. The theatre teacher and person responsible for putting on all the plays was Mr. Fisher (Michael Fisher).
Mr. Fisher wasn’t your average teacher. He was magnetic. It was like we were living in our own theatrical Mr. Holland’s Opus. He made all of his students feel unique and empowered to handle independent thought. When you’re a teen, not many adults care about your opinions on things that matter. Fisher not just acted the part, but he genuinely cared about treating us like we were equals and capable of handling important content. He’s also won awards as a playwright, and a not very recognized indie film was produced from one of his plays (if I remember correctly). I can’t find the info online, but he had a remarkable resume for a public school theatre teacher.
From a school publication…
Theatre students at Thurston.
Fisher allowed the students to select a lot of the plays we wanted to perform, and sometimes that included controversial topics. After one of the performances, a parent filed a complaint with the school district regarding a few lines in a play, including one that had something to do with beating someone over the head with rosary beads. I tried to find the article to quote it accurately, but this was 1999/2000 before everything was auto-posted online and people still read newspapers.
Aside from our opinions on whether or not we think public-school students should be saying things like this in high school plays, or if we believe this was a worthwhile cause… the students that were very invested in the uniqueness the Thurston theatre program offered, were concerned about preserving it. They were right to feel it was threatened.
The school board decided that all performed content needed to be approved by the school district superintendent, and theatre participants felt this was taking away their right to free speech. To a lot, it also felt like this was directly targeting a beloved teacher, Michael Fisher. They weren’t going to stand for it. A considerable amount of the school walked-out in protest in the middle of a school day. I don’t know the exact number or percent of the school that walked out, but it was 25% on the low end and 50% on the high end. I was young and I’m now relying on my memory and I likely amplified the moment. The students that stayed on-property reported that the classrooms felt pretty empty though.
The local news showed up, and after a long rainy Oregon day of protesting, the school-board backed-off and said they would no-longer require censorship of our theatrical content. The walk-out resulted in Saturday detention. It was so large, it needed to be held in the cafeteria and felt more like a social gathering. Parents that supported us even brought in donuts. The events surrounding the school-board seemed to subside (or at least from my student perspective).
I moved to Florida to live with my Mom for the next school-year, and that was my last experience having Michael Fisher as a teacher and play Director. I attended Key West High School, which was very well known for their choir, but not-so-much for theatre. I tried out for the Fall play anyway. I didn’t have to read any lines to audition. All I had to do was sing Happy Birthday to get a role, and I knocked it out of the park…. Or so I thought… I learned over time that Key West High School was a constant popularity contest, and even the teachers were in on it. But, not many could even sing happy-birthday in-tune, so my calculations for how many roles there were and students that could carry a tune meant that I would at least end up in the play’s choir.
Anyone that knows me knows that I can sing pretty well. If I were to put my level of abilities into words, in my youth, I could’ve stood a chance at getting a “ticket to Hollywood” on the right year. I would probably have limited coverage until I just disappeared into thin air though. Look, I know I can sing, but I’ve had enough time on this earth to know there are a lot of great singers out there. To my surprise though, at Key West High School, I couldn’t even get a role as a singing tree on Dorothy’s road to Oz. After that heartbreak, I gave up on theatre and left my thespian self in Oregon. Funny enough, I learned fifteen years later that my Mom went to the school that day and chewed the theatre teacher out. I just think that’s amazing and hilarious!
When I went to visit my Dad the next Summer, school in Oregon finished later than Key West, and I was invited by a friend to attend an after-school theatre gathering where the students talked about what they wanted to do the next year. I remember the feeling of being missed in that community, and people were excited to see me. One friend told me that Mr. Fisher had asked where I was at the beginning of that school year, and she told him I moved. She said he seemed genuinely upset. Her saying that resonated with me and made me feel so special that he remembered me and felt my loss in the theatre program.
We’re going to now skip fifteen years as time passed and as I left this part of my life behind me. I’m now well into my adulthood and facebook recommended Michael Fisher to me as a connection. It looked like he was intertwined with a lot of prior students, even working with some on community theatre programs. I sent out a request to connect and he accepted. He was the only teacher I ever connected with on social media. It looked like Fisher was doing good too. He was the Founder and Principal at the Academy of Arts and Academics, which was also called A3. It was a highly coveted arts school to attend in the Springfield, Oregon area.
Michael and I wouldn’t engage very often on social media, but maybe a couple times a year one of us would like or comment on something. When I bought my home in Berkeley, he liked it for example.
Then, out of the blue, my Step-Mom, sends me an article stating that Michael Fisher had been put on administrative leave by the school board for and investigation into misconduct involving sexual abuse and statutory rape of one of his students when they were a minor. I was completely blown away. Was my all time favorite teacher not who I thought he was?
I felt confused, and I immediately went to the web to read up on it. The lengthy and detailed police report and intake from the interview of the now Woman was online, with her name blacked out (thankfully). After reading it, I was completely convinced of his guilt. I felt for the woman who had been victimized by his magnetic field in a manipulative way, because I knew how magical he seemed to a child.
I may be a poor online researcher, but I believe the police report has since disappeared because of the on-going investigations and suits, and possibly to protect her. Lt. Scott McKee is the officer working this case, and he’s said that “the survivor was subject to long-term abuse.” I read the whole report and believe the intake was thorough.
Then, I thought about the most recent facebook post I saw of his a couple weeks prior. He said “I discovered Chvrch’s 2013 tune ‘Mother We Share’ a few months ago and was immediately impressed. Now I’m just proud.” He was referencing an article where the female lead singer of the band Chvrch’s was cat-called on stage and later on social media, and stood up for herself.
I scrolled down further, and I saw a post where he shared a blog article (I’m guessing a student/prior student wrote/shared) about the #MeToo movement. He was thanking a woman for sharing it with him. This was a few months prior to the news breaking.
I marinated on these posts and it really bothered me. It took me a while to really figure out why. I concluded it was because Fisher was putting a message out there that he was advocating for women’s rights to privacy, their personal space, and their right to feel comfortable around men. Was he doing this for redemption, to deflect, or as bait? We’ll never know for sure.
That Chvrch’s post was the last facebook post Michael Fisher ever made. After the accusations of sexual misconduct came out publicly, he killed himself.
Because he never stood trial or stayed with us to explain or defend himself, the investigation continued without him, and it’s still ongoing. The woman who spoke up wasn’t initially seeking any retribution. A police officer called her because he received a tip that she was abused by Fisher. He flew across the country to take her statement. It appeared that she wanted to move on with her life. It’s been a little over two years now since the news broke. She has now taken out a five-million dollar lawsuit against the school-district for some members' knowledge of the misconduct and not reporting it.
The position I’m taking in this article is that he’s guilty. There’s either a lack of evidence, or it’s being hidden from the public to rightfully protect the survivor. The events of Michael Fisher being suspended for the investigation and his suicide happened within hours. To me, that was an admission of guilt. I could truly see how a trial by media could cause an innocent person to succumb to the horrible act of giving up on life, but Mike gave us no defense and didn’t fight it. He gave up almost immediately. I take the stance of believing victims, and I only add this statement in here as a preemptive counter argument because I’ve seen what others have said, and likely will refute after reading this. Michael Fisher may have also had more victims.
Believe it or not, there’re a lot of mixed feelings about the victim and advocators of Fisher’s innocence. I’m not talking about a handful of folks here. In the Springfield / Eugene, Oregon area, this topic has been as polarizing as a presidential election.
Facebook threads sprung-up, and there was a varying degree of victim blaming or a very high level of sympathizing for Fisher… Some were mild insensitivities because they were grappling with losing a close friend and now have to deal with a good friend’s image being tarnished. Others were more straightforward.
Someone even started a facebook page called “Truth Seekers for Fish.” I’m not sure if I’m blocked or if the page has since been deleted. I defended the victim, but tried to express empathy for the dilemma of losing someone twice in the same month. I think I was blocked, even if the page was later deleted or reported.
“As callous as it comes off, if it was just one girl who was consenting, why come forward? But that’s just the side of me that is mad and sad that my friend is dead. Not the logical side that says she has every right to come forward to stop it from happening again.”
One high school friend of mine that’s a mother many-times over (who will remain nameless) reached out to me on facebook messenger after the news broke. In one of her messages she wrote “As callous as it comes off, if it was just one girl who was consenting, why come forward? But that’s just the side of me that is mad and sad that my friend is dead. Not the logical side that says she has every right to come forward to stop it from happening again.” I was surprised at her perspective. She has daughters, some in middle-school. I admit I didn’t vocalize my concern for her statement at the time. My regret has stayed with me.
I’ll respect the privacy of the victim, but I will say that the details of the report are explicit in nature and detailed beyond the imagination of any person I’ve met. I believe her. I know that may not seem like a powerful statement for those not close to this story. It seems like the obvious response, right? This has been divisive for those close to it.
It appears that this abuse transitioned from her earlier teen years, into a young-adult relationship. This is part of the defense for those who believe Michael Fisher must be innocent. First, even if we legally become adults the day we turn eighteen, let’s be real here. Our eighteenth birthday isn’t a magical day where all this wisdom is bestowed upon us and we psychologically blossom into full-grown adults. Secondly, this was abuse. The kind that started as a child, and it carried with her into adulthood until she was able to separate herself. Even then, Fisher pursued her by signing up to the same gym she went to and tried to be present in her circles. She had to move to get away from her abuser.
As humans, we put a lot of things into two categories… Black and white, wrong and right, good or bad, left or right. Maybe it’s the libra in me; I think actions can be wrong or right. People are not one or the other or mostly anything though. We’re usually somewhere in the middle, living in the grey. We thought Michael was a bright white light, but he was living in his own dark grey. I’ve struggled with depression, and I wouldn’t be surprised if he did too. He did some unforgivably horrible things, but he did provide some positive experiences too. People are complicated. It’s ok to feel confused by this. But the praise people, that’s gotta stop!
I’ve thought a lot about why people held on so tightly to their memories with Michael Fisher, to the point of questionable values. The best answer I can come up with is that we all self-identified through him, and he made us feel special. We tie a lot of our identities into groups, and Michael, the founder and leader of our group, threw a bomb into it. There’s just no glue that’ll put that vase back together.
If I were to take this even one level deeper, the year before my Freshman year at Thurston High School, there was a school-shooting. This was at a time when it wasn’t common yet, and students didn’t widely have cell-phones or have drills for what to. Schools were also learning how to react to the aftermath. Two students died, along with the shooter’s parents. It was tragic, and when I attended Thurston, there was this connectivity and bond because most had gone through something truly frightening. Michael Fisher was the theatre teacher at the time, and he was the type to help students tap into their emotions to deal with grief and PTSD. I saw how genuine he was, or seemed. I really want to believe that came from a good place where his intentions were pure and he got lost somewhere along the way.
We can still value our memories of our teen years in theatre and with Michael, if we were the lucky enough ones for those to be positive experiences. I just think we need to recognize that the special feelings he gave us that elevated us to feel like adults, well, maybe it’s because he had a hard time detaching and he felt that way towards us. The difference is that he wasn’t just a cool teacher pushing us out of our comfort zones and into adult-hood. He likely felt we were already there with him.
Teachers need to keep a distance from their students, physically and emotionally. For some, he was forever damaging. I’ll include his family in that. I can’t imagine having the magical, mystical and magnetic Michael Fisher as your Father or Husband, and losing him… then having to deal with the news of his demons without getting to address them with him directly. It’s unfair. We need to give his family our support and understanding. I hear they protest his innocence still.
Why am I sharing this story? Well, I didn’t realize that victim shaming or victim blaming really happened to this level until I witnessed it closely in 2018. People cared more about preserving their childhood memories of an amplified hero than believing someone who was reluctant to come forward about her sexual abuse. I understand that Michael Fisher is also no longer with us, and that complicates things. The high level of praise though… that confuses some who believe in the right of victims to tell their story, and it’s the kind of thing that will prevent others from coming forward.
The investigation is still in the “alleged” status, and I will for sure get backlash for this article for those that believe in his innocence. Especially because I was one year shy of experiencing the horror of the Thurston shooting, and I left Thurston after my Freshman year. I didn’t get as close to Michael Fisher as a lot of students did.
What I do know though is that no one has come out in defense of this woman on a grand scale, and she needs support. I don’t know her name, and I don’t want to. Let’s respect that and just provide support by learning from this lesson. We need to start believing victims and survivors and stop glorifying predators. It’s 2020 everyone. It’s just time.
