Power of the Students

Through the Great Depression, World War Two, Korean and Vietnam wars, and 9/11, one thing was for certain:  that in the fall each year Glendale and Hoover High Schools would meet for the final football game of the season.

That tradition ended last week.

Hours before game time, “out of an abundance of caution” Glendale Unified School District cancelled it “due to increased rumors of possible disruptions . . . that put student, employee, and spectator safety at risk” as stated in a prepared statement.

Fallout from the Oct. 3 fight at Hoover ultimately led to GUSD’s decision.

The 88-straight game streak was broken as were the hearts of students and alumni and anyone else who has a link to the city’s storied history.  Even the homecoming dances were postponed.

It wasn’t just a football game that never happened.  For the Hoover senior football players, it meant a chance at history by beating Glendale all four years of their high school career, a feat never before accomplished.

Much preparation goes into this one event each year whose purpose is to instill school spirit, the major sporting event no matter the football team’s season record, with an early morning ceremonial poster drop from three floors up and a school-wide assembly of skits performed by each grade level.  All of this work done by a small group of dedicated students, all leading up to the game, the game that was not to be.

If there was a serious threat of violence, then cancelling the game was the right move.  However, if the cancellation was based on rumors, something the district admonished everyone after the fight at Hoover not to fall prey to, then questions should be asked.

After all, when a rumor on social media spread following the fight caused a huge amount of absences, school was not cancelled “out of an abundance of caution” so why would the game not happen?

If you are trying to make things go back to normal, the last thing you want to do is to end a positive, long-standing tradition between the two oldest high schools in the city.   Not having the football game is abnormal.

Then, guess what happened?   Just when the TV news minivans stopped parking in front of Hoover, they returned on Monday.

Students organized a walkout to protest the district’s cancellation.  Well over 100 students walked two miles to district headquarters wanting their voices to be heard.

“What really happened on Oct. 3?  Why was the game cancelled?” were questions never fully addressed.

Three days later, GUSD attempted to answer these questions in their first press conference on the matter four weeks after the initial incident.

The district is moving forward to facilitate communication with all members of the school community.  Let’s hope such efforts succeed.

Give credit to the district for doing this.  However, even more credit goes to the persistence of students who felt that questions remained unanswered and issues unresolved.

Would there have been a press conference if there was no walkout?

The motto at Hoover is “be responsible, respectful, and engaged.”  The students who organized the peaceful demonstration embodied that standard, and adults should embrace these young people for speaking their mind and reminding all that this is their school.

 

 

Honoring the Legacy of Long-time School Employees

When I first started working at Hoover High School in September of 1989, the school was so overcrowded that there wasn’t a classroom available for me so I became a traveling teacher:  four rooms in five periods.   That meant I had to carry chalk, erasers, paper, pens, staplers, paper clips, and more in my bulging briefcase.

It wasn’t until my second year that I had my own room, but there was a catch.   It was a temporary room, a portable bungalow out near the softball field.  While it was isolated next to three other portables, it had its own air conditioning unit that I controlled, unlike the permanent buildings where the thermostat was managed by the district office.

A couple of years later when high schools converted to four-year institutions, a new building was erected to accommodate the additional ninth graders.  Then principal Don Duncan invited teachers to choose their own classrooms while construction was underway.

I selected a room away from a stairwell to minimize outside noise.  I also wanted my windows to have a view so I chose one that faced south overlooking Glendale’s burgeoning skyline to my left and the Hollywood Hills to my right.

And I have remained there ever since.

This school year marks my 30th as a teacher.  It also happens to be the 90th year that Hoover has been around.  That means that I have taught at Hoover for one-third of its entire existence.   During my tenure, I have worked for six principals and five superintendents.

Reaching such a milestone has made me reflect on many of my former co-workers who are no longer at Hoover.

Too often these people just disappear whether through retirement or moving on without announcement or acknowledgment of their service to the school.  There is no mechanism in place for their legacies to be memorialized.

Past superintendents in Glendale have their photos mounted at the district headquarters.  No matter that the average tenure has been eight years, with one serving only a year, these men remain the face of the district despite working at other districts for the majority of their careers.

However, for those teachers, secretaries, custodians, and cafeteria workers who have devoted their lifetime to GUSD—20, 30, 40 years’ worth—their work is not preserved.  Nowhere are their photos or names displayed.   That is like having a memorial dedicated to the armed services with only the names of the generals on it.

These people have more of a connection to students than do superintendents.    Preparing food, cleaning campuses, greeting visitors, and teaching students—these are the most meaningful jobs at a school.   If it weren’t for these people, there wouldn’t be a place of learning.

Just last month a custodian who worked 39 years, Glen Esquivel, retired. Where is his photo?  His name?

As soon as he left, the history of his stint in GUSD disappeared. It’s as if he never worked in Glendale schools.

Thirty-nine years.  Vanished.

Devote your entire working life to a company and never be remembered.  That’s a terrible lesson to teach young people.

Never mind the clichéd certificate of recognition at a school board meeting.  As the district prepares to move to a new administration building, serious consideration should be given to erect a Hall of Fame with the photos, names and years of service of all employees who have worked for GUSD at least 25 years.

It’s the right thing to do.