As I drove to pick up my kids from school recently, the temperature at the bank read 84 degrees.
I reflected with frustration on the weeks of crappy May and June weather that consumed probably 40 percent of our summer break. How I’d like to exchange these warm August days in school with the early June days of freezing rain.
In North Dakota, the start date of schools is a local matter, one that school boards and superintendents protect vigorously. I agree with local control and support it.
The problem with school schedules is this. Local school boards approve the schedule but the schedule is built around -- or strongly influence by -- a statewide athletic calendar (with a big emphasis on finishing football before the snow flies.) The real “control” being exercised at the local level on school start dates seems pretty minor.
A couple years ago, the Legislature narrowly rejected a measure that would have required schools to start after Labor Day. Lobbying efforts by the school superintendents, school boards and other education groups prevailed.
Local control and athletic schedules aside, there are some sensible and compelling reasons to delay the beginning of school until after Labor Day. And it can be done without threatening local control or jeopardizing the quality of education.
The first and most obvious reason is weather. August is one of the most reliably warm months of the year in North Dakota. Why do we tie our families at home and our kids back in school for two or three of the nicest weeks of the year?
By doing so, we compel a large number of summer attractions to close prematurely. Last weekend was one of the nicest of the season, but families couldn’t take a dip in any of Bismarck’s public pools. All were closed for the season.
Raging Rivers, plagued by a summer of awful water-park weather, is closed except on weekends. That attraction is missing out on a couple potentially great weeks of revenue.
Hotels and other attractions suffer as well because once school starts both employees and in-state visitors dry up. Big attractions like Medora struggle to find staff for the last few weeks of their season because students leave for school in mid August.
A Bismarck hotel owner, testifying to the Legislature on this issue, said his business dropped off 30 percent as soon as school started in August. He said continuing the summer season through Labor Day would have generated another $15,000 in sales for the year – “a meaningful amount for a small North Dakota business who is asked to pay property taxes totaling over $37,000 and a school distribution of $20,683.”
A 2006 statewide survey found that 75 percent of people who have an opinion on this issue support requiring schools to begin after Labor Day.
But a state mandate shouldn’t be necessary. Since schools collectively agree on a very similar schedule now, why can’t they collectively agree on a schedule that starts after Labor Day?
They could. They just need to hear from enough people who want them to.
Summer is short and precious in our state. A later start and finishing date for schools makes sense. It would be good for families, kids, businesses, teachers, and our economy.
And it might even be a welcome change for those poor high school football players forced to practice in full gear on the hottest days of summer.
Monday, August 24, 2009
Monday, August 10, 2009
Friends: A choice and a treasure
"A faithful friend is a sturdy shelter; he who finds one finds a treasure." Sirach 6:14
One of my oldest pals, Schultzie, is in town. We’ve been friends for 26 years, ever since we met as mullet-wearing pre-pubescent junior high kids who shared a love for playing basketball and baking Christmas cookies.
From Thanksgiving through Christmas, we baked cookies almost every day after school. This tradition caught up with us in college. We once took pictures in a mall photo booth and tried to display as many of our cookie-induced chins as possible. When the machine spit out the strip of black and whites, they revealed at least 10 between us.
We laughed for hours at those awful pictures -- just one of countless such events that triggered stupid levels of laughter. Through high school, college and beyond, Schultzie was a pretty constant companion. We covered a lot of territory in those 12 years, growing from childhood to adulthood, and accumulated a hard drive full of memories.
When we were both just 19, our parents amazingly approved of us taking a five-week trip through Europe, largely un-chaperoned.
Credit cards were not yet an international currency, so we followed the “Europe on $20 a Day” plan. We were so nervous about running out of money we ate very little and walked everywhere. (This helped eliminate some of the chins.)
In Rome I remember staring at the carts of gelato, debating whether to eat supper or indulge in dessert because both would break the budget. Sensibility won out at first. But after errantly ordering potato pizza one night, we started ignoring our motherly voices and chose instead the largest-size bowls of Italian ice cream we could afford.
Ralph Waldo Emerson, who commented a lot about friendship, said the only way to have a friend is to be one. This is not so true of sisters, brothers, or parents. All of these relationships are gifts of birth. They are a lot better with effort of course, but they last a lifetime either way.
Spouses too are different, formally bound by a legal and/or spiritual pledge.
Friendship, on the other hand, is a choice. One that can be abandoned at any moment should either party so desire. That’s why friendships are so special. They are completely optional – held together only by mutual interest and good will.
As the years pass, the likelihood of sometime living across the street, across town or even across the state from my friend Schultzie dwindles. We’ll probably always live across the country.
But that’s okay. A lifelong friend is like a favorite pair of jeans that never wear out or become too tight. Days, weeks or even years might pass, but when you pull them on they still fit comfortably -- even if you’ve eaten too many Christmas cookies.
One of my oldest pals, Schultzie, is in town. We’ve been friends for 26 years, ever since we met as mullet-wearing pre-pubescent junior high kids who shared a love for playing basketball and baking Christmas cookies.
From Thanksgiving through Christmas, we baked cookies almost every day after school. This tradition caught up with us in college. We once took pictures in a mall photo booth and tried to display as many of our cookie-induced chins as possible. When the machine spit out the strip of black and whites, they revealed at least 10 between us.
We laughed for hours at those awful pictures -- just one of countless such events that triggered stupid levels of laughter. Through high school, college and beyond, Schultzie was a pretty constant companion. We covered a lot of territory in those 12 years, growing from childhood to adulthood, and accumulated a hard drive full of memories.
When we were both just 19, our parents amazingly approved of us taking a five-week trip through Europe, largely un-chaperoned.
Credit cards were not yet an international currency, so we followed the “Europe on $20 a Day” plan. We were so nervous about running out of money we ate very little and walked everywhere. (This helped eliminate some of the chins.)
In Rome I remember staring at the carts of gelato, debating whether to eat supper or indulge in dessert because both would break the budget. Sensibility won out at first. But after errantly ordering potato pizza one night, we started ignoring our motherly voices and chose instead the largest-size bowls of Italian ice cream we could afford.
Ralph Waldo Emerson, who commented a lot about friendship, said the only way to have a friend is to be one. This is not so true of sisters, brothers, or parents. All of these relationships are gifts of birth. They are a lot better with effort of course, but they last a lifetime either way.
Spouses too are different, formally bound by a legal and/or spiritual pledge.
Friendship, on the other hand, is a choice. One that can be abandoned at any moment should either party so desire. That’s why friendships are so special. They are completely optional – held together only by mutual interest and good will.
As the years pass, the likelihood of sometime living across the street, across town or even across the state from my friend Schultzie dwindles. We’ll probably always live across the country.
But that’s okay. A lifelong friend is like a favorite pair of jeans that never wear out or become too tight. Days, weeks or even years might pass, but when you pull them on they still fit comfortably -- even if you’ve eaten too many Christmas cookies.