When One Door Closes

As many of you know, I am a municipal reporter and columnist. For the newspaper this week I combined the two elements in my column, and though this may seem a local story, it is one that is played out across the years and across the miles:

Stone One-room School (c.1820)

Stone One-room School (c.1820) (Photo credit: origamidon)

INTRO

            “At the Board meeting of November 20, 2012, the Greater Essex County District School Board (GECDSB) approved the closure of the Ruthven Public School effective June 30, 2013 and declared the school surplus to the needs of the Board.”

            The above paragraph was included in a notice to the Town of Kingsville in April along with the announcement that the GECDSB was issuing a proposal to offer the property for sale at a fair market value to a number of organizations. Yes, that is a door you hear closing.

WHEN ONE DOOR CLOSES

            School closings are hard. They are hard on the children who called the Ruthven Public School their school. They are hard on the teachers and staff who taught and worked at the school. They are hard on the community. And they are hard as they close a door never to be opened again.

            The saying “when one door closes another one opens” is trite but true. The students from Ruthven will be transferred to other schools, the majority to Jack Miner, and I am here to say that the transition will work. How do I know? Because many many years ago my school was closed and I was transferred to Jack Miner Public School (at the time it was Gosfield South Public School). The difference was I went from a one room school house to what we referred to as the “big school”. The transition for the Ruthven students should not be as daunting.

            At the time I was transferred a lot of the one room school houses in the area were closed so I was not the only deer caught in the headlights of a big change. At my school, six grades were taught in one room, while the grades ones and twos were taught in the boys’ and girls’ rooms—the rooms that housed our coats and bathrooms. We were civilized though—the bathrooms were closed off from the main part of the boys’ and girls’ rooms—so the six and seven year olds were not being taught how to read with Dick and Jane, Puff and Spot in the presence of the toilets.

            I remember my first day at the “big school”. I had to take a bus to get to the school which was a scary adventure in itself. Then when I arrived at the school there was some confusion as to where to go. The newbies had not been introduced to the new school beforehand (which on reflection would have been a really really good idea). When things were sorted out, I found myself sitting in a classroom of about 30 kids all the same age. We were pretty well all ten years old, and in my class many of us were like fish out of water—joining kids whose home school was Gosfield South. I guess we were somewhat of a foreign entity, and I heard rumours later that our intelligence was in question as no one was certain if the kids coming from the one room schools were up to speed.  Speaking on behalf of my cohorts— we were.

            I do not remember the transition taking long. I liked my new school, and my teacher went to my church so that was comforting. There were quite a few of us in the same boat so it seemed to go pretty smoothly. There were a lot of advantages to going to a bigger school though I missed some of the community feel of my little school. To this day I do not regret the opportunity afforded us.

            Kids are resilient. They cope because they have to—and what is at first strange and weird becomes normal. I feel badly for the students who may no longer be able to walk to school, and be “hugged” by their tightknit community, but speaking from experience, adopting a new school is not insurmountable. Economics govern and we may see some other closures and adaptations in the future. I know if my kids were affected I would be concerned—but moms and dads, students and teachers: consider this a new and exciting adventure. It is the only way to at first, muddle through; second: assimilate; and, third: enjoy the ride.

CONCLUSION

            I leave you with these words from Anna Quindlen, from her book, “A Short Guide to a Happy Life”: “I learned to love the journey, not the destination. I learned that this is not a dress rehearsal, and today is the only guarantee you get.” Enjoy your summer vacation knowing a new “today” is awaiting you.

Do you have a similar story?

Family Life – You Gotta Love It!

The Adventures of Ozzie and Harriet

The Adventures of Ozzie and Harriet (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

“I have found the best way to give advice to your children is to find out what they want and then advise them to do it.” ~ Harry S. Truman

Wise advice that I have learned the hard way. My sons are in their twenties. They are wonderful, kind, and considerate except when they are not. I live in a 1950’s sitcom world where the young kids are fresh faced and innocent, and the older ones always willing to lend a hand to mow the lawn or carry in groceries. In my little world, there is no discord. There are no raised voices. There are no arguments.

Cut to real life. I am just going to have to realize that real life has facets of my ideal 50’s sitcom life, but that is not always how things are. My youngest son came home from college for the Christmas holidays on Saturday, and on Saturday night, my husband and I were in the living room. Youngest son joined us, then oldest son came in and sat down. Then the cat came and laid on the floor. It was bliss. We were all warm and fuzzy, and all together. It is the way I imagine Christmas Day should be, but it happened on a nondescript Saturday.

I paused. I took note. And I enjoyed the camaraderie. I enjoyed having my family all in the same room, under our roof. It was cozy and we watched TV and snacked and joked. And I decided right then and there to enjoy the moment and not wish it away, or wish that it would happen at a prescribed time and place.

Since Saturday, there have been a few arguments, there has been a bit of discord–we are, after all, a normal family. There are going to be good times and bad. There are going to be warm and fuzzy times, and times with raised voices. I am just going to have to deal with the times that are not perfect, and recognize and enjoy those times that are.

Family life is not perfect~but I would not trade it for anything else in the world. (Okay a couple of million would be a nice addition but not instead of.)

Do you have some perfect and not so perfect family times?