Raines’ Revealing Performance
When Damage Control Does the Real Damage
“People tell you who they are, but we ignore it—because we want them to be who we want them to be.”
That line from Mad Men kept running through my head as I watched Superintendent Damon Raines address the Walker County school board last week. Because, in that moment, Raines told everyone exactly who he is. The real question: Was anyone listening? Was the school board?
Imagine you own a small business—maybe a local restaurant, a toy store, or a boutique downtown. You notice problems: declining sales, complaints piling up, employees growing frustrated. So you call your manager in for a meeting, expecting answers and accountability.
But instead of explanations or solutions, the manager calmly looks you in the eye and says: “You may think you control my paycheck, but you don’t control my destiny.”
Then, rather than address your concerns about mismanagement, lost customers, or unhappy staff, this employee flips the script, declaring that the real problem is you—your insistence on asking tough questions, your unreasonable demands for transparency. In fact, they're “disappointed” in your leadership. Imagine they rally support against you for “attacking” them by scrutinizing outcomes
Would you nod politely, apologize, and say, “You know what? You're right. Let’s forget this ever happened”?
Of course not. You’d show them the door.
Yet, unbelievably, that’s nearly the scenario in Walker County—except it wasn't a small business manager. It was Superintendent Raines talking directly to the Walker County School Board. His employers. The elected officials entrusted to oversee him, on behalf of parents, students, and taxpayers.
It was arrogance wrapped in authority, defiance masquerading as leadership. Instead of putting any concerns to rest, Raines made one thing crystal clear: He doesn’t believe he owes anyone an explanation.
Let's quickly recap how we got here. Last August, concerns emerged about Raines' leadership decisions. Like responsible employers, the school board launched an investigation, hiring outside counsel to thoroughly vet the issues.
Now, months later, Superintendent Raines has something to say.
Raines began his statement by complaining about “open records requests.” Pause there: He didn’t address the original problems or allegations. Instead, his issue was that people dared to ask for public documents.
Translation: “The problem here is that you folks won't stop asking questions.”
But here's the thing about public records—they exist because sunlight is the best disinfectant. When public officials start complaining about scrutiny, it usually means they’re afraid of what we might find.
Next, Raines attempted a clever diversion, proudly stating that the Georgia Professional Standards Commission (GaPSC) had not revoked his certification—as if that cleared up everything. So let's clarify something important: The PSC does not rule on employment matters that are obviously in the purview of school boards. The PSC rules only whether to take action against a professional certificate. He falsely conflates two separate reviews, one by the Board (his employer), and one by the PSC (a licensing body). The PSC reviews whether to discipline or revoke a certificate, not whether a leader is fit to lead. That distinction matters.
And before anyone assumes the GaPSC is some pristine, impartial guardian, consider this interesting tidbit: The Commission is essentially educators policing other educators. Even more intriguing, the new executive secretary of the GaPSC just happens to be the former president and former director of the Georgia School Superintendents Association. And guess what? Raines’ precious vindication from the GaPSC conveniently arrived shortly after this guy took charge. Coincidence? Maybe—but it’s certainly relevant context.
Next was Raines' breathtaking display of victimhood. According to him, he's the wronged party. He's "deeply disappointed" in board members who investigated him. He's suffered "vicious attacks." His family has been affected.
What's missing from all this self-pity? Any concern for students, staff, or families affected by the original issues. Any acknowledgment that public officials must sometimes face hard questions. Any recognition that accountability might be appropriate. Any hint of humility or contrition.
The best part came when Raines, still addressing his own employers directly, delivered this stunner: "You may attempt to control my employment, but you do not control my destiny."
Let that sink in. A public employee, paid with tax dollars, telling his supervisors they don't really control him. Not in private frustration, but deliberately, publicly, in a prepared statement.
Then, as if that weren’t audacious enough, Raines invoked his faith and the implication was clear: Questioning him isn't merely misguided; it's practically immoral. Raines' personal religious convictions are entirely his own, and worthy of respect. But injecting them into an official statement on professional accountability and public scrutiny felt like a calculated play—less about genuine humility and more about using religion as a shield against criticism.
When public officials, confronted with tough questions, resort to invoking God rather than referencing policy, facts, or law, it's typically because they're fresh out of credible arguments.
Finally, he ended with astonishing gall—a demand: "I trust the board will accept this and officially close this matter."
Translation: “I’ve said all I plan to say. Now kindly stop asking questions.”
But that's not how accountability works. You don’t get to declare an investigation over just because you’d prefer it to be. You don’t get to demand silence from those who oversee you. And you certainly don’t get to wrap defiance in piety and call it virtue.
Raines’ performance wasn't a defense—it was an exposé. He showed us exactly how he views accountability (as persecution), how he responds to pressure (with deflection), and how he sees his relationship with this community (he’s the victim, concerned citizens are the villains).
Now, the Walker County School Board faces a defining moment. They can be intimidated by Raines’ theatrics and swayed by applause from his loyal supporters, or they can remember their duty isn’t to protect one superintendent’s reputation—it’s to safeguard the integrity of our schools and the trust of our community.
Raines showed us exactly who he is. The school board would be wise to believe him.
Visit RainesIndex.com to learn more about and read all the documents from the investigation in question.
Sack him.