It was my intention to attend tonight’s last of three public hearings at Highland Hills Middle School on the topic of Resources for (Pre-Determined) Results.
Really, it was, but after a day spent dealing with business/work on one side and a roof being placed atop our house on the other, I couldn’t get my butt off the couch and into the car. I feel bad about it. Sorry. It isn’t because I don’t care. It’s just an inordinately stressful time on the job, and from the outset, the school corporation’s “resources” charade has left me cold, angry and feeling too much like I’ve seen this movie before and didn’t enjoy it then, either.
In fact, ever since Resources for Results bubbled to the service, and the school corporation shifted into damage control mode as part of a vapid spin cycle as incompetently rendered as any we’ve seen of late, I’ve been thinking that there’s something about this cover committee farce annoyingly redolent of past city vs. county game-playing, even if I can’t put my finger on it.
Populism usually isn’t my bag, but I’ll vent, anyway.
It’s very frustrating to me to contemplate the extent to which so many earnest, harried neighborhood activists – most of them hanging by their proverbial fingernails to various tiny bits of hope that they can somehow reverse 30 years of institutionalized idiocy, turn the situation around, and make the urban core viable again – must watch as their efforts are effectively sabotaged by the further impending loss of neighborhood schools at the behest of a school corporation that seems to believe it educates in a vacuum.
Granted, I don’t have children, and some of these hard working activists don’t, either, and yet I feel bad for them and worse for the families watching helplessly as the rug gets pulled out from under their struggles. This has been even sadder owing to the artlessness of the school system’s proceedings.
While I’m at it, if anyone spots a scintilla of evidence that the current elected school board has contributed an ounce of leadership to the “resources” sham, please let me know. I’ll eat my hat. If just one of them publicly confessed to the resources committee being a staged, rigged joke, perhaps that’s something we might build from to begin a genuine dialogue. Like New Albany in general, the only ones we hear from are the ones least able to contribute to the solution. Is it in the water?
Yes, this is one of the weakest pieces I’ve written in a while. I feel bad about that, too, and it quite possibly will offend someone. I’m dog tired, my blood alcohol is way too low, and the hypocrisy level is cresting above my ability to be coherent. As I wrote previously, I have friends in the school corporation’s upper echelons. By now I thought that at least one or two of them might have tried to respond with a counter argument. Regrettably, there has been nothing except the sounds of silence. That bothers me. Maybe I’m not living right. Maybe they’re feeling guilty. Maybe both.
Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to be fitted for my British Redcoat uniform in preparation for attending tomorrow’s tea party. After all, I’m no populist.
