The images circulating recently out of Cheyenne of an activist photographed handing checks to state legislators on the House floor are jarring. They stop you cold and invite cynicism. Understandably, they cast a shadow over the Wyoming Legislature at a time when public trust is already fragile. My initial reaction was all of those things, but then I pushed pause to self-reflect.
Opinion
Before rushing to judgment, we should pause long enough to acknowledge an important truth: It is not right, nor is it fair, to allow the actions of one individual, or even a small number of individuals, to define an entire legislative body. The overwhelming majority of Wyoming legislators had absolutely nothing to do with what occurred. Many serve honorably, thoughtfully, and with sincere intent to do right by the people of this state. To paint them all with the same brush may be easy, but it is also wrong.
As someone who has spent more than three decades in public education, most of those in Wyoming, I cannot help but recognize a painful irony in this moment. Public school educators know this feeling well. Over the past several years, the actions — real or alleged — of a very small number of educators have been repeatedly used as justification to question the integrity, motives and professionalism of all Wyoming public school teachers and leaders.
Over the last few years, including this one, we have watched bill after bill be introduced that seems less about improving education and more about reacting to isolated incidents in our public schools. Legislation that implies that the vast majority of public educators can’t be trusted. Targeted bills that suggest public schools are ideologically warped. I have testified in Cheyenne against bills that seemingly frame an entire profession as suspect because of the conduct or rhetoric of a few. That kind of judgment is not fair, and what is happening now to the entire Legislature is not fair either. When we respond to individual misconduct by indicting an entire group, we abandon reason for reaction and move from accountability to assumption.
Most public educators in Wyoming are not political activists. They are not trying to indoctrinate children or impose ulterior motives. They are professionals who show up every day to teach reading, math, science, music, agriculture, etc. They coach, advise and worry about students who come to school hungry, anxious or hurting. They stay late, spend their own money on their students and care deeply about this state and the communities they serve. Likewise, most legislators are not corrupt, careless or self-serving. They are citizens who ran for office knowing the pay was minimal, the criticism guaranteed and the workload heavy. They sit through long committee meetings, wrestle with complicated policy decisions and take votes that please some and anger others. They do this in the public eye, often with little thanks.
The danger we face, both in education and in government, is allowing moments like these to harden into narratives. Narratives that say, “This is who they all are.” Once those stories take hold, they are difficult to unwind and breed mistrust. They justify overreach and invite punishment instead of problem-solving. Accountability matters, and when someone violates ethical standards, that behavior should be addressed swiftly and transparently. Yet accountability must be precise. It’s where responsibility actually resides. Broad-brush condemnation may feel satisfying at the moment, but it ultimately erodes confidence in the institutions we depend on.
Wyoming is better when we resist the urge to reduce people to caricatures. It is better when we distinguish between individual failure and institutional judgment. Wisdom is evidenced when we don’t allow the mistakes of a few to define the many, no matter who happens to be in the crosshairs.

