Once upon a time there was a pretty little city, so small some would call it a village. In this village, or city if you prefer, there was a little school. It was old and small and not as pretty as some would wish, but it was dearly loved by the small children who were taught there. And it was loved by many of their parents and grandparents, as well as by their teachers, and many of their parents and grandparents. This bright and much beloved place was called the K-1 Center, for this school was only for children in those two grades.
Because this little school was so loved and because it was so near the beautiful bay, and the green and flowering parks, and the imposing new library and all the cute and busy little businesses in this pretty little city (or village, should you prefer), the children of this K-1 Center had a wonderful and enriched experience, in the classroom and in the community. And this enrichment showed in test scores and success in higher grades and even in later life.
The children and their parents were happy, and the citizens of this pretty village (small city to some) were proud to have this unique and honored institution in their midst. It was the sort of thing many had dreamed of, but few had even seen and fewer still had ever experienced.
But this idyllic state was not to last. Dark clouds coming from the north gathered around the old little school. It was said, by those employed to speak with great authority about things they never saw, that the building was too small and too old and musty and the children should be in new big schools with lots of grade levels. And they could go there for many years, not just two, thus escaping the twin dragons of “Transition” and “Dislocation.”
And were this plan to be fulfilled, what then would happen to this pretty little school? The Mayor Kant (now famed for starring in the drama “Driving Mayor Tim”) had arranged to keep the pretty little school as a school – not as the K-1 Center, but as part of the University of South Alabama. Not pretty or little, but big and efficient – so they say. But for so many Fairhopers who value the K-1 Center, this certainly would not be better.
The Mayor’s vision for the village (or town or whatever) would no longer include the squeals of joy as little children climbed and ran on the playground just behind the business district. No, this would be replaced by the squeals of tires as 700 college students jockeyed for a parking space where the playground used to be.
And when the citizens heard of this, many of them were aroused and gathered to prevent this misfortune from coming about. But they were told by those in positions of authority there was nothing they could do. They were told that it was a “Done Deal.”
Just when it seemed concern, disappointment and even feelings of hostility were not enough to arouse the community to right this error, Leslie Anne Tarabella appeared on the scene as the gallant knight (or if you are a fairy tale traditionalist, as the Fairy Godmother). She rallied her fellow Fairhope citizens, called the decision-makers to account and pushed back on this action, made without local public participation, and with no regard to its emotional and political impact.
When she asked him to help save the K-1 Center, the Mayor spoke but said little – and offered nothing helpful. Even worse, when she contacted Bob Callahan, the “Fairhope Representative” on the county school board (he’s a board member and is from Fairhope), he replied that he wasn’t going to support saving the Center, but in fact supported terminating it. He added that the closure decision had been made. It was going to happen. The train had left the station – and the K-1 Center was tied to the tracks just around the bend.
Callahan is dead wrong on the logic in closing the center and on the irrevocable nature of the decision. First, the K-1 Center is recognized as a unique asset that has won acclaim in education circles at the state and national level. It’s a parent’s dream. It’s a place of learning and nurturing. A place where the phrase “It takes a village…” (a good thought regardless of its origin) has real meaning.
And it looks like that train is in the process of being derailed. Leslie Anne is working on building a constituency to “Save the K-1 Center.” She’s forming a steering committee to broaden the leadership, streamline the decision process and increase the involvement of influential members of the community. In addition, the movement is getting good media coverage – TV and print at the big kickoff and with Lagniappe uniquely covering the follow up meeting. At least three members of the Fairhope City Council are supportive of the movement – Bob Gentle, Debbie Quinn and Cecil Christenberry. Bob and Debbie attended the most recent meeting and spoke in favor of the Center.
Getting the council behind the Center is especially important. The superintendent of Schools, Dr. Faron Hollinger, has shown he listens to the desires of the cities the system serves. A motion supporting the K-1 Center, passed by the full city council, is fine way to send him the right message.
Traditionally fairy tales have happy endings and everything up to now suggests this one will be no exception. One of these days I expect to close the K-1 Center story with ”... and they all lived happily ever after.”
Contact Pete Gleszer at jubilee@lagniappemobile.com.
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