Every so often, something drifts across the news desk that makes even the most seasoned collector of oddities pause and mutter, “Surely not.” The latest Oklahoma State Board of Education meeting offered just such a moment: Naked women, a retro video, a startled board, and a superintendent with a less-than-slick TV remote. Would this be more at home in a sitcom script, or a lesson in unintentional irony?
Not the Standard Executive Session
By most accounts, what began as a closed session focused on educator licensing and student appeals veered dramatically off script. Two board members, Becky Carson and Ryan Deatherage, detailed to NonDoc and The Oklahoman a moment of genuine disbelief as a television in Superintendent Ryan Walters’ office—where the session was being held—unexpectedly brought a parade of unclothed women into a space generally reserved for dense policy review.
Carson, grappling at first for plausible deniability, thought she must be seeing elaborate bodysuits. But, as she later told reporters, anatomical details forced a more jolting conclusion—a classic case of wishful thinking meeting harsh reality. Deatherage’s memory offers further clarity: the footage, which he noted was “retro” and involved a “chiropractic table,” mercifully avoided explicit sexual content, but left little to the imagination.
The exact source of the video isn’t pinned down. Deatherage explained that only he and Carson were positioned to see the screen, as Walters himself sat with his back to it. According to the board members, the television was on throughout the session, with the sound muted—a detail mentioned in The Oklahoman—but its untimely programming caught everyone by surprise.
Swift Interruption, Slow Response
The interruption couldn’t exactly pass without comment. Carson, seeing what was on the TV, responded with the full force of her experience as an educator and parent: “What is on your TV? What am I watching?” she reportedly demanded, voice rising above the room’s usual hush.
As described in NonDoc, Walters appeared caught off guard, at first denying knowledge and then fumbling to shut off the display. Carson later likened his demeanor to a teenager hastily closing browser tabs. In words echoed by both sources, there was no apology when Walters returned to the table—no mention, no explanation, just a quick pivot back to school business.
Immediate reactions among those present seem to have ranged from confusion to outright shock. Carson admitted she questioned her own eyes before certainty set in, while Deatherage “didn’t know how to handle it,” reasoning that the moment might simply… go away. Spoiler: it didn’t.
Another member, Chris Van Denhende, recalled in The Oklahoman that he did not see what was described but could report Walters “was shook up.”
Context Makes the Absurd Absurd-er
The basic facts here would be odd enough, but Walters’ well-publicized crusade against “sexual material” in Oklahoma classrooms propels the story well into the land of public policy paradox. In a March 2023 statement recorded in his car (because of course it was), Walters denounced materials he considered unfit for children, according to NonDoc, arguing even “one instance of this is way too much.”
This juxtaposition was not lost on the board members, who pointed out a glaring double standard: Board meetings frequently scrutinize teachers for even minor lapses, with licenses suspended or revoked for less. “It’s the accountability for me,” Carson told The Oklahoman, commenting on the contrast between Walters’ standards for others and his own office’s accidental matinee. Deatherage noted teachers have been placed on lists for, frankly, much less eventful breaches of decorum.
In a detail highlighted by NonDoc, both insisted similar protocols should apply uniformly—no matter one’s title or ability to command a room (or, apparently, a TV remote).
The Official Line: Denial with a Side of Derision
For the record, Walters did not publicly comment or apologize—not to the board, not in the public session, not in the aftermath. Instead, his communications director, Quinton Hitchcock, offered a characteristically combative response, dismissing reporters’ questions as a “junk tabloid lie” and referencing a “hostile board.” As noted by The Oklahoman, this is consistent with recent antagonism toward local press, whom Walters has nicknamed with less-than-subtle derision.
House Common Education Committee chair Dick Lowe, who was present for part of the closed session, did not witness the televised surprise but described his reaction after hearing about it as “shocked” and “unprepared.” Speaking to NonDoc, Lowe said legislative leadership would be consulting state law to determine what, if anything, should follow an occurrence so unusual it seems tailored for a particularly surreal ethics exam.
Standards, Accountability, and the Occasional Oddity
When summed up, the incident reads like a missed opportunity for self-awareness—one more instance of public officials discovering the double-edged sword of the rules they enforce. The board members have made it clear: If teachers face scrutiny for accidental exposure to inappropriate material, shouldn’t a superintendent be subject to a similar review?
No word yet on whether statutes governing acts of “retro nudity” during executive sessions exist, or if future meetings will feature unplugged televisions as a new best practice. Still, if nothing else, Oklahoma’s State Board of Education has set a new standard for the unpredictable: Meetings are now scheduled for “civics, policy, and… who knows what else.”
One almost wonders, as Carson described still being “in shock” even after the meeting, whether there’s a required cooldown period before any new business can be brought up—especially if the last curveball required a basic recalibration of what counts as “unexpected” in state bureaucracy.
In the meantime, chalk up another point for the peculiar, and perhaps, check that the screen saver is indeed off before the next round of policymaking begins.
