Read the full story of what happened to me at Veritas Academy in Leola, PA:
Introduction–I introduce Veritas, its headmaster Ty Fischer, and his connection to Doug Wilson.
Part 1–I describe the process I went through to be hired at Veritas, including my expressed concerns regarding Doug Wilson.
Part 2–I recount the grueling, post-hiring interrogation Ty Fischer put me through for opposing Doug Wilson.
Part 3–I share how Ty Fischer fired me for opposing Doug Wilson, including the dismissal letter in which he pretended I had never been hired at all.
Part 4–I document how Veritas refused to pay me for my two weeks of employment, in flat disregard of their legal, contractual obligation.
Part 5–I disclose the 5-page letter I sent to the Board of Veritas Academy to appeal the wrongful treatment I had received–and their dismissive response.
This past week I went public with the story of how I suffered institutional abuse at Veritas Academy. I can only imagine how many people have since attributed my action to bitterness, money-grubbing, attention-seeking, or just plain spite. Perhaps some more charitably see it as my seeking sympathy and consolation as I bemoan or grieve the traumatic loss of a job–not to mention a great deal of faith in humanity–even a year later.
Thankfully, none of those are motivations in my going public. When I realized this a few weeks ago, I knew it was time to publish.
Mary DeMuth, author of We Too and staunch advocate for the abused, once shared some very wise advice–this is my paraphrase: while every traumatized or oppressed person must be able to share their story in order to process, heal, and recover, not every avenue for sharing is safe or helpful.
Broadly plastering my story across the indiscriminate internet from the get-go would have left me incredibly vulnerable to every criticism, judgment, or misinterpretation. Instead, Mary advises survivors to find private, trauma-informed, trusted friends and counselors who can walk through our stories with us to help us pick up the pieces and begin to make sense of things. People who can shelter, protect, validate, and encourage us, restoring our sense of safety, security, and self.
I’m so glad I listened to Mary’s lecture last year, because that is exactly what I went on to do. It made all the difference.
A year later, I am prepared for anyone out there to think what they will of me for this. I don’t mind every ounce of it being made public–which is why I have so thoroughly documented everything for you. I know who my friends are, the ones who will stick with me through this, and I also know that my cause is good and just, regardless of how it might be maligned or misrepresented.
Because my cause is not, and never has been, to receive the rightful compensation that Veritas Academy withheld from me. Even if they offered to pay me now, I would not accept it. I want to be very clear about that.
In fact, I am incredibly grateful to have been kicked out of Veritas and thus found the impetus to leave my classical Christian educator career behind forever. I never want to be a part of this culture ever again. I love Christ. I love ancient lit and language and art and philosophy and history. And I am thoroughly disillusioned and aghast at the Frankenstonian monster the ACCS has made of it all.
A year after my firing, I have successfully launched a new career as a freelance editor. I love my job more than any I have ever had–and that says a great deal, considering just how much I loved teaching. My hourly rate is the highest it’s ever been. I have more respect from my peers–including/especially men–doing this job than I’ve ever had.
So I’m not looking to receive what I’m owed from Veritas Academy. Nor am I looking for notoriety or to “build my platform” at Veritas Academy’s expense. In fact, writing this whole story has deterred me a great deal from my new professional endeavors. If anything, I expect my disclosure to work against my reputation and ability to find new clientele.
So why am I doing this?
Because I believe that the truth deserves to be known.
“Veritas” is the Latin word for “truth.” In the Vulgate–the Latin Bible–Pontius Pilate queries Christ, “Quid est veritas?”
What is truth?
An educational institution that names itself after truth–that postures itself as a purveyor of truth, that gathers in young minds purportedly to steep them in truth, that advertises itself to prospective employees and attentive parents as a beacon of all that is right and good and true–should know what the truth is.
Moreover, they should be able to tell it.
For this I was born, and for this I came into the world, to testify to the truth. Everyone who belongs to the truth listens to my voice.
These are the words of Christ that prompted Pilate’s question.
The truth is that G. Tyler Fischer, the headmaster of Veritas Academy, sees nothing wrong with something like this (TW: explicit sexual content) being penned by a Christian pastor, as he told me himself when he interrogated me.
The truth is that the board of Veritas Academy officially signed off on stealing money from me when I appealed to them.
The truth is that the leadership of Veritas Academy doubled down on cultic allegiance to Doug Wilson to the point of firing someone who distrusts him enough–with shockingly ample cause–to say so publicly.
Is this the behavior of a Christian institution characterized by truth?
You don’t have to answer that for me. But I hope you answer it for yourself. For your children. For your friends. Your spouses. And, yes, even your superiors.
If this story troubles you, and you wish things were different, there is something you can do. Write to the Board of Veritas Academy. You may address your letter thusly:
Be respectful. Tell them you want them to speak the truth. If you are a Christ follower, tell them that you expect them to testify to the truth as he did. Tell them what you hope they would do differently. Tell them how much this matters to you–and how much they matter to you.
Because they are human, too. They are made in God’s image as much as I am.
My goal is not to destroy Veritas Academy. There are good, wonderful, truth-telling, loving people there. I have friends who send their kids there. I have friends who work or have worked there.
My goal is to tell everyone there the truth, as much as they are willing to listen, because I think Jesus came to give them the truth. If I bury and silence my story, I will be a bastion against the truth. If I speak plainly, I may be a conduit.
And I know I’m not the only one who has faced abuse and oppression in this environment. So for the sake of those who cannot speak, I will speak out.
I leave it to you, my reader, to judge righteously.