HELP WANTED: Superintendent of Minneapolis public schools. Responsible for educating 35,000 children who come from families ranging from exceptional to nonexistent. Students speak a multitude of languages and many come to school hungry. Candidate must answer to students, parents who think they know how to educate everyone else's children, elected politicians, unelected politicians, community leaders, people who claim to be community leaders, teachers, teachers' unions, advocates who oppose teachers' unions, flimflam artists seeking school contracts, and the media.

Pay and benefits are exceptional, though career longevity is approximately the same as for a professional football player. Bonus pay for "satisfactory" evaluations. Title will be automatically modified to "Beleaguered Minneapolis School Superintendent" after three months, then "Embattled Minneapolis School Superintendent" approximately six months before dismissal.

Bernadeia Johnson, who announced her resignation Tuesday, might wonder what obstacles George B. Stone, the first Minneapolis schools superintendent, faced back in 1858.

Maybe some haggard mother dragged her tardy kid into class and explained that he was late because Pa had run off to the gold rush, or that his homework had been eaten by wolves. Those were hard but relatively simple times.

Johnson's resignation, described (as is often the case with superintendents) as "abrupt," is yet another reminder that the job of running a successful public education system is arduous and thankless, perhaps in these times even impossible.

If you want to argue that Johnson was the sole problem for our inability to acceptably educate our kids, consider this: In the past 30 years, Minneapolis has had 14 school superintendents, or one every two years or so.

That's a whole lot of failure.

Most have left in a cloud of doubt, or just before one is about to descend. The school boards have tried public school insiders and outsiders. They've tried consensus builders, mavericks and dictators. They've tried a team of consultants and even a former Republican lawmaker, all with results ranging from mixed to messed up.

Who can forget, for example, the unceremonious departure of Thandiwe Peebles in 2006. She negotiated a starting salary of some $168,000 plus guaranteed raises, a $700-a-month car allowance, a health club membership, long-term care insurance, and $179,500 in severance.

Then, poof, she was gone.

As Johnson heads for the door, she gets a severance agreement that most workers would envy, though it's a pittance compared to what the CEO of a failed company would get as a golden parachute.

Whatever her faults (among them an avoidance of the media when things got bad), few would argue with her passion for the job and commitment to closing the achievement gap between white students and students of color. It was not uncommon for Johnson to get teary-eyed during discussions of the challenges students face on a daily basis.

The first of more than 300 stories about Johnson in this newspaper, when she became the new principal of Hall Elementary School, described her as "a whirlwind of energy and commitment." She was credited for raising scores at a school with a mostly poor student body.

But when she applied for the top job in 2010, Johnson did what no other potential superintendent had done: She set measurable benchmarks for success. Accountability to those goals would determine whether Johnson remained on the job or not.

The most recent data were not in her favor.

Johnson said in a news release that she was leaving partly to better attend to aging relatives. That's true.

But she was also facing increasing scrutiny from several sectors, including a handful of people who have turned superintendent-bashing into careers, and the poor showing on student achievement. Add to that a school board with new members who likely would be emboldened to question the status quo.

Resigning in the middle of the school year might seem suspicious, but it was probably the right time for Johnson to make an exit, before someone else showed her the door.

It's still unclear whether Johnson's role in the shaky contract between MPS and Community Standards Initiative (CSI) drove her decision, but I'm guessing it was a motivator. Stories in this newspaper said sources at MPS confirmed Minnesota Sens. Jeff Hayden and Bobby Joe Champion, both DFLers, threatened to cut funds if a contract wasn't steered toward CSI.

The allegations launched a Senate ethics committee hearing on the two and enraged their supporters, who started a vicious social media campaign.

I believe the threats were made by the senators. And I only hope that, whether or not the community pressure helped push Johnson out, her new freedom from the superintendent job (and a guaranteed spot as a school principal) might encourage her to appear before the ethics committee and tell us what really happened.

Things have certainly been worse for Johnson. For some perspective, here's what she said on Twitter shortly before resigning: "I can't wait see the movie 'Selma' and to reminisce about my family during what was a difficult period in U.S. history."

Johnson's tenure at MPS is a blip on the screen. She had to know in her heart that she could not solve intractable social problems from a school administrator's office.

"I don't have all the answers," she said after taking the job. "And I never will."

jtevlin@startribune.com • 612-673-1702

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