I loved my elementary and junior high schools (I moved to the US for part of highschool, so we’ll leave that out). I walked or biked to school K-9 with my friends.

I knew kids all over my neighbourhood and, in junior high, surrounding neighbourhoods. We hung out together, joined soccer teams together, and really had a lot of freedom because we knew so many people so close by. I even knew my neighbours who didn’t have kids and had the run of their gardens and (shocking!!) even got home-baked cookies on occasion.

My neighbourhood had one of the highest crime rates in the city. Each of our cars was broken into at least once, our house was broken into twice, and my bike was stolen twice. There were stabbings and shootings in the area and yes, my schools had drug problems, but I had a GREAT childhood. Mainly because I did not grow up ruled by fear. I grew up knowing there are problems in the world and that everyone needs to be involved in the solutions. Ignoring them or herding them into select areas of the city only makes things worse. And when our house was broken into, it was our neighbours who called the police in time to stop anything being taken.

My schools got kids involved in things besides drugs and crime. I never “fell in with a bad crowd” as the fear mongers like to say. In fact, most of my grade in junior high was on the honour roll and we went to one of those inner city schools facing closure. Our principal, Ken Podlubney, purposely accepted kids who had been kicked out of other schools and gave them a chance to do better. Sometimes it worked and sometimes it didn’t, but he deserves huge props for trying.

This is an emotional topic for me, so I’m glad there are people like Jeff and Chris who’s arguments are more rational. I think it’s important to have specialized schools for arts, french immersion, academics, etc., but I really believe neighbourhood schools are key to creating good, connected communities. And good, connected communities is what it takes to reduce stabbiness in schools, not shipping kids off to other parts of the city.

There’s another issue here of assuming that everyone in a stabby neighbourhood has a car and/or the time and/or the money for bus fare to take their kids to a non-stabby school (or move). That just isn’t the case and I don’t think those families or kids should be stretched even further by having their local school closed.

It’s a losing proposition to ask the government (taxpayers) to fund a near-empty school.

If we want to keep our schools, and if we want to “revitalize” our communities, parents need to stop sending their kids to schools further afield. We also need to take a less my-neighbourhood-centric view of community building. Sure McCauley looks to be shutting down, but Norwood Elementary is less than 1.5 kms from McCauley. Can’t these two communities both take ownership of Norwood?

http://districtseven.weebly.com

Trustees have created a “four legs good, two legs better” situation — ordinary, community schools are fine, but if you want something sensational, enroll your child in special programming.

There’s an abundance of it, from Christian education to hockey academies. This week’s Examiner is full of advertising for these options, paid for by your tax dollars. What the EPSB never talks about, unfortunately, is the old-fashioned, sustainable option of walking your kid to the nearby school, which functions as the centre of your community.

Indeed I’d say the public board has become Edmonton’s foremost advocate of suburban living, where everyone gets in a vehicle to go anywhere, and new infrastructure is constantly under construction in emerging neighbourhoods while we dispose of anything that is more than 50 years old.

In addition to the marketing subsidy programming-based schools receive, the EPSB also picks up most of the transportation costs. Essentially, suckers like me who have chosen sustainability see their tax dollars redirected to pay for yellow buses to go through communities scooping up children who are registered, for example, 30 blocks away in the back-to-basics Cognito school. (And we get dinged a second time when the city raises taxes to fix the potholes that plague mature neighbourhoods.)

If someone wants to send his or her to an alternative school, fine, but why I am paying for this choice?

Another problem: overwhelmingly, open boundaries favours rich communities. Poor Parkdale, on the south side of Alberta Avenue, is home to more than 450 EPSB students, Kindergarten through Grade 9, but less than 200 children are registered in the school. Meanwhile, elite Crestwood, which is home to about 160 EPSB kids, has an enrolment of 400 and two portables on site to handle the overflow. Guess which school is being reviewed for closure.

Best practice in many school districts is to locate niche programming in poor communities, as a way of building social capital. For example, the Catholic board established Academie Holy Cross in Canora, north of Stony Plain Road, in part because it is a high needs area. The EPSB’s policy is that all corners of the city should have niche schools, equally distributed. Instead of bringing French Immersion students to half-full buildings such as Parkdale, kids are sent to the suburbs, because, according to trustees, that’s what’s fair.

I should point out that the situation at Eastwood is not entirely the fault of the EPSB. City planners have made decisions which pushed families to the outskirts of Edmonton. There may not be sufficient demand to save all inner city schools (half of them) under threat of closure.

What we could do is pursue specific initiatives to promote urban living for people who have young children. Indeed, council is mandating this in the new Municipal Development Plan: 25 per cent of units in large infill projects must be made suitable for kids. With the opportunities in the Quarters, Boyle Renaissance and around Stadium Station, McCauley School could be transformed into what Richard Florida calls a “Strollerville.”

The EPSB is disinterested in pursuing this option. In the case for closure it has prepared against McCauley, the possibilities for a more sustainable city are explicitly dismissed. Young families will always choose the suburbs, the authors assert: not only is McCauley School doomed, so are 30 to 50 others in mature communities.

That’s the vision of Edmonton shared by the majority (seven of nine, for Star Trek fans) of public trustees. If you share it, vote for your incumbent in October, or like many people leave your ballot blank. If you prefer a collaborative approach to community building, with the city and school board acting as partners, please be mindful of your civic responsibilities and find out whether the candidates in your ward favours sustainability or sprawl.