PENNY SCHWINN GOES TO US DEPT OF EDUCATION AS A DEPUTY UNDER LINDA MCMAHON
Once upon a time, in the shadowy halls of the Billionaire Oligarchy™, where the air smelled faintly of caviar and freshly printed tax loopholes, a grand scheme was afoot. The mission? To dismantle public education one Trojan horse at a time. And who better to lead this audacious campaign than the enigmatic, ever-ascending Penny Schwinn? A woman whose career trajectory resembled a rollercoaster designed by a conspiracy theorist on Red Bull.
Penny’s journey began innocently enough as a Teach for America recruit in Baltimore. There, she taught for two years, which is roughly the same amount of time it takes most teachers to figure out where the staff bathroom is. But Penny wasn’t like most teachers. No, she was a 'visionary'. By the time her chalk dust had settled, she was already earning a master’s degree from Johns Hopkins and plotting her next move—straight out of the classroom and into the boardrooms of reform.
After a brief stint training teachers in Los Angeles (because who better to train teachers than someone with two years of experience?), Penny made an unexpected pivot. She joined McMaster-Carr, a bolt and screw company. Yes, the irony was palpable—she was learning how to fasten things while preparing to unfasten the public education system. It was during this time that she crossed paths with St. Hope Foundation, a charter school empire run by Sacramento’s own Kevin Johnson, former NBA star and mayor with more scandals than slam dunks. Penny took on the role of “Head of Student Achievement,” while her husband Paul became the principal. It was like a family sitcom, but with federal investigations instead of laugh tracks.
By 2011, Penny was ready to go solo. She founded her very own charter school in Sacramento: Capitol Collegiate Academy. It began with 60 kindergartners and a dream—though that dream seemed to involve shedding students faster than a dog in summer. By the time her first cohort reached seventh grade, only 15 students remained. But hey, who’s counting? (Answer: the state auditors, probably.)
Nine months into her principalship, Penny decided that running a school wasn’t challenging enough. So she ran for the County school board and won, backed by endorsements from some of Sacramento’s most colorful characters, including Sheriff Lou Blanas, whose reputation for police brutality was rivaled only by his knack for political machinations. It was like assembling the Avengers, but if all the Avengers were under federal investigation.
Penny didn’t stay long on the County school board—just 14 months later, she jumped ship to become an assistant superintendent for Sacramento City Unified School District. Her new role came with a six-figure salary and oversight of… wait for it… her own charter school. That’s right, Penny was now both the fox and the farmer in this henhouse of education reform.
But Sacramento wasn’t big enough for Penny’s ambitions. Soon, she packed up her whiteboards and PowerPoints and headed to Delaware, where she became the Chief Accountability Officer for the state’s Department of Education. Her tenure there was marked by controversy when her husband landed a cushy job funded by—you guessed it—the Delaware DOE. It was like nepotism bingo: “Family member hired? Check! Conflict of interest? Double check! Awkward press conference? Full card!”
From Delaware, Penny leapfrogged to Texas, because everything’s bigger in Texas—including no-bid contracts awarded to friends. One such contract cost taxpayers $5 million and involved a company run by Michelle Rhee’s former deputy chancellor. By now, it was clear that Penny had a type: reformers with résumés as dubious as their spreadsheets.
But Texas was just a pit stop on Penny’s inevitable road to Tennessee, where Governor Bill Lee welcomed her with open arms and a mission to overhaul public education. As Tennessee’s Commissioner of Education, Penny rolled out initiatives faster than legislators could say, “Wait, what?” Her pièce de résistance was a no-bid contract for a pilot voucher program that left lawmakers scratching their heads and parents Googling “school choice pros and cons.”
Penny’s tenure in Tennessee wasn’t without its critics. Cultural conservatives thought she wasn’t doing enough to root out “woke ideologies,” while moderates questioned her tendency to launch programs without consulting anyone outside her inner circle (which may or may not have included Kevin Johnson via Zoom). Meanwhile, her department faced high turnover, morale issues, and enough eyebrow-raising decisions to make Spock look permanently surprised.
And then came the twist no one saw coming: Penny Schwinn was tapped by none other than Donald J. Trump to serve as Deputy Secretary of Education in his second administration. Yes, the same administration that wanted to abolish the Department of Education entirely. It was like hiring a chef for a restaurant you’re planning to burn down.
Trump announced her appointment on Truth Social, accidentally calling her “Peggy Schwinn” but praising her “strong record of delivering results.” Critics were quick to point out that those results often included declining enrollment numbers and skyrocketing controversy indexes. Even JC Bowman, head of Professional Educators of Tennessee and frequent Schwinn critic, admitted he didn’t see this coming: “Whoever vetted her needs to be vetted.”
As Deputy Secretary, Penny would be working under Linda McMahon, co-founder of World Wrestling Entertainment and Trump’s pick for Secretary of Education. Together, they were poised to tag-team public education like it was WrestleMania—complete with folding chairs and dramatic monologues.
And so, Penny Schwinn ascended to the Mount Olympus of education reform—or perhaps its Thunderdome. Her story serves as a cautionary tale for anyone who thinks public education is too boring for intrigue. Because in the world of the Billionaire Oligarchy™, even kindergarten classrooms can be battlegrounds for power, profit, and plot twists worthy of Netflix.
The end? Probably not. Stay tuned for the sequel: 'Penny Schwinn and the Voucher Apocalypse'.
EDUCATION MALPRACTICE? – Dad Gone Wild https://norinrad10.com/2020/08/27/education-malpractice/
