Here's a comment that was made to the mayoral candidate posting that deserves to see the light of day as a posting of its own.
I am accepting it as a posting from Graeme Thomson, democratic candidate for mayor in Morrisville. If it later turns out not to be his posting, this will be removed.
In the interests of full disclosure, I believe this is the same person who was the administrator of several websites many of our readers are familiar with, but I would provide the opportunity to let the poster make that disclosure. It might make some people wonder how fervently this poster advocates investment in Morrisville while his friends would not.
Graeme has left a new comment on your post "3 Dems running for Morrisville mayor":
I guess it is time for me to chime in and introduce myself.
I am running for mayor I decided to run for mayor the day our incumbent told the school board and citizens at a school board meeting something to the effect that he had spoken to 1000 people about the school issue. It is time for absentee mayor to end and to bring someone in to the position.
I moved to Morrisville, I decided to live here, because of the town and because of the people.
When I chose Morrisville for my home I worked in New York, it was certainly not because it was close to where I worked but I wanted a home where I could raise my family. I can’t think of any place better then Morrisville.
I worked for 12 years in "Advertising and Public Relations", I know better then any of the other candidates how to talk to business leaders, and I know how to show them what a great opportunity Morrisville is.
Morrisville has some hard times ahead if we do not select a business leader. The Calhoun Street Bridge is about to be shutdown for an extended period of time cutting seriously into the number of consumers coming in to Morrisville. To make matters worse PA has increased the taxes on tobacco, making it more expensive for people from New Jersey to here and buy cigarettes then buy them in NJ. I do not smoke and wish we had a better “draw” in Morrisville but at the moment it is the biggest “draw” we have for consumers. More people come to Morrisville to buy cigarettes then any other single item. While they are here people stop at some of our other business. Weather they buy a slice of pizza or a haircut every dollar they spend while they are here adds to our economy.
We need to take strong action to remind Morrisville residents of Morrisville, this is the prime time to do just that. With the cost of fuel on the rise again it is time for the town to learn how to shop local again. During the 2nd world war there were billboards all over reminding people to conserve fuel. That combined with letting people know what businesses and services we have will bring local consumers into our shops. As the shops do better in the area we will be able to meet with business owners and show them that stores in Morrisville can make profit, if you gave a business a tax free ride they will not move here if they do not think they can make profit. It will be a long process, bringing more business into Morrisville but together we can.
As for my being a puppet, life would be a lot simpler if I were. The only person who tells me what to do is my wife, and honestly even she is not completely happy with those results☺ I have always stood up for what I believe and will fight for what I think is right, and though I am willing to listen to other opinions, my decisions are my own not what I was told. I think about my words and actions before I speak or act, so I do not need handlers.
With the work and this campaign keeping me busy I can not promise to keep popping in to this blog, but I am a computer nerd both professionally and at home so this is as good of place as any to leave questions.
Even if you do not vote for me in May I hope you will get out and vote. I also hope you will support who ever is elected in November.
Think Green, Buy Local
Wednesday, April 15, 2009
Inefficient, expensive, but an American icon
From the Inquirer.
Inefficient, expensive, but an American icon
The neighborhood school helps to define who we are. Consolidation threatens that.
Commentary By Jonathan Zimmerman, Posted on Tue, Apr. 14, 2009
Imagine two school districts somewhere on America's checkered educational landscape. Each district has 1,000 students. But each one also has its own superintendent, clerical employees, and buses. And neither can afford electives in art, music, or technology.
Wouldn't you want to merge them?
Across the country, governors and state legislatures are trying to do exactly that. Here in Pennsylvania, Gov. Rendell has proposed a 12-member commission to suggest ways to consolidate some of our state's 501 school districts. Lawmakers in South Carolina, Illinois, Indiana, and Iowa are devising their own consolidation schemes. In these tough times, the argument goes, bigger districts will reduce administrative costs while enhancing curricula. So citizens will get more educational bang for their property-tax buck.
Only, the citizens don't see it that way. Especially in rural areas, voters have produced a flood of letters and petitions against consolidation. And in Maine, which passed a consolidation law two years ago, opponents are mounting a campaign to repeal it.
What's going on here? Part of the issue concerns money: Many voters doubt consolidation would cut costs or fear their taxes would actually go up.
But there's more. To Americans, school is not simply an institution to educate the largest number of children at the lowest expense possible. It's a symbol of community, of the geographic spaces and face-to-face relationships that help define who we are. If we give up our schools or our districts, we relinquish part of ourselves.
Consider the one-room schoolhouse, the ultimate emblem of our nation's educational localism. As late as 1913, fully one-half of the nation's students attended a single-teacher school. And they did so over the protests of state legislators and educational officials, who railed incessantly against the inefficiency of one-room schools.
In many ways, the critics were correct. These schools had children of different ages huddling around smoky stoves and reciting long passages to their young teachers, who often possessed not much more education than the kids. Meanwhile, despite the myth of the tidy "little red schoolhouse," many were barren, dilapidated shacks. They weren't even red, because parsimonious citizens refused to pay for paint.
But the schools were theirs, and that's what mattered. Often the lone public building within miles, the one-room school hosted marriages, funerals, spelling bees, and political rallies. It also featured evening dramas and debates, the only entertainment in many parts of the country.
One Utah school staged a debate about whether "a load of seed potatoes" or "a load of women" was "most needed in the community." In North Dakota, villagers deliberated on whether "the Farm Woman Works Harder and has Less Recreation than the Farm Man." (A three-judge panel ruled for the Farm Woman.)
Not surprisingly, then, these Americans bridled when states moved to consolidate their schools. "Individuality will be lost, the pride taken in 'our' school and 'our' teacher gone," warned one parent in upstate New York, identifying herself only as a "Rural Mother."
Hers was a lost cause. By 1925, 19 states had passed laws to encourage school consolidation, often giving cash awards to districts for each single-room school they closed. Thirty-five years later, in 1960, just 1 percent of our students attended a one-room school.
But we still celebrate the tiny rural school. Look at the eight entrances to the Washington headquarters of the Department of Education, installed for a 2002 rally kicking off the federal No Child Left Behind law. Each entrance is shaped like a one-room school, featuring a slanted roof and a bell tower; the only added modern element is the slogan "No Child Left Behind," emblazoned in bold letters across all of them.
"We serve the ideal of the little red schoolhouse," then-Secretary of Education Rod Paige told the rally. "It is one of the greatest symbols of America - a symbol that every child must be taught and every child must learn, that every community was involved and every parent's input valued."
How could a one-room schoolhouse become the icon for No Child Left Behind, which gave the federal government unprecedented new powers over American education? It was illogical - even laughable. Symbolically, however, it made perfect sense. Amid the anonymity and centralization of modern life, we need emblems of the local bonds that hold us together.
That's what we get from small school districts, which continue to embody America's communal ideal. A 1,000-student district is not a one-room school, to be sure, but it is still small - and it's still ours. It may not make economic or even educational sense, but it fits snugly into the story we tell about ourselves: our roots, our purpose, and our identity. Whoever wants to change that story will have to come up with a better one.
Inefficient, expensive, but an American icon
The neighborhood school helps to define who we are. Consolidation threatens that.
Commentary By Jonathan Zimmerman, Posted on Tue, Apr. 14, 2009
Imagine two school districts somewhere on America's checkered educational landscape. Each district has 1,000 students. But each one also has its own superintendent, clerical employees, and buses. And neither can afford electives in art, music, or technology.
Wouldn't you want to merge them?
Across the country, governors and state legislatures are trying to do exactly that. Here in Pennsylvania, Gov. Rendell has proposed a 12-member commission to suggest ways to consolidate some of our state's 501 school districts. Lawmakers in South Carolina, Illinois, Indiana, and Iowa are devising their own consolidation schemes. In these tough times, the argument goes, bigger districts will reduce administrative costs while enhancing curricula. So citizens will get more educational bang for their property-tax buck.
Only, the citizens don't see it that way. Especially in rural areas, voters have produced a flood of letters and petitions against consolidation. And in Maine, which passed a consolidation law two years ago, opponents are mounting a campaign to repeal it.
What's going on here? Part of the issue concerns money: Many voters doubt consolidation would cut costs or fear their taxes would actually go up.
But there's more. To Americans, school is not simply an institution to educate the largest number of children at the lowest expense possible. It's a symbol of community, of the geographic spaces and face-to-face relationships that help define who we are. If we give up our schools or our districts, we relinquish part of ourselves.
Consider the one-room schoolhouse, the ultimate emblem of our nation's educational localism. As late as 1913, fully one-half of the nation's students attended a single-teacher school. And they did so over the protests of state legislators and educational officials, who railed incessantly against the inefficiency of one-room schools.
In many ways, the critics were correct. These schools had children of different ages huddling around smoky stoves and reciting long passages to their young teachers, who often possessed not much more education than the kids. Meanwhile, despite the myth of the tidy "little red schoolhouse," many were barren, dilapidated shacks. They weren't even red, because parsimonious citizens refused to pay for paint.
But the schools were theirs, and that's what mattered. Often the lone public building within miles, the one-room school hosted marriages, funerals, spelling bees, and political rallies. It also featured evening dramas and debates, the only entertainment in many parts of the country.
One Utah school staged a debate about whether "a load of seed potatoes" or "a load of women" was "most needed in the community." In North Dakota, villagers deliberated on whether "the Farm Woman Works Harder and has Less Recreation than the Farm Man." (A three-judge panel ruled for the Farm Woman.)
Not surprisingly, then, these Americans bridled when states moved to consolidate their schools. "Individuality will be lost, the pride taken in 'our' school and 'our' teacher gone," warned one parent in upstate New York, identifying herself only as a "Rural Mother."
Hers was a lost cause. By 1925, 19 states had passed laws to encourage school consolidation, often giving cash awards to districts for each single-room school they closed. Thirty-five years later, in 1960, just 1 percent of our students attended a one-room school.
But we still celebrate the tiny rural school. Look at the eight entrances to the Washington headquarters of the Department of Education, installed for a 2002 rally kicking off the federal No Child Left Behind law. Each entrance is shaped like a one-room school, featuring a slanted roof and a bell tower; the only added modern element is the slogan "No Child Left Behind," emblazoned in bold letters across all of them.
"We serve the ideal of the little red schoolhouse," then-Secretary of Education Rod Paige told the rally. "It is one of the greatest symbols of America - a symbol that every child must be taught and every child must learn, that every community was involved and every parent's input valued."
How could a one-room schoolhouse become the icon for No Child Left Behind, which gave the federal government unprecedented new powers over American education? It was illogical - even laughable. Symbolically, however, it made perfect sense. Amid the anonymity and centralization of modern life, we need emblems of the local bonds that hold us together.
That's what we get from small school districts, which continue to embody America's communal ideal. A 1,000-student district is not a one-room school, to be sure, but it is still small - and it's still ours. It may not make economic or even educational sense, but it fits snugly into the story we tell about ourselves: our roots, our purpose, and our identity. Whoever wants to change that story will have to come up with a better one.
School district mergers worth talking about
From GoErie.com
School district mergers worth talking about
Published: April 13. 2009 12:01AM
It's easy to anticipate the following arguments against Gov. Ed Rendell's proposal to pare Pennsylvania's school districts from 500 to 100.
-Large districts are unworkable.
-Smaller school districts are more attuned to the needs of the community.
-Previous mergers haven't saved money.
-Models from the business world can't be imposed on public education.
-Transportation costs would eat up savings and require students to spend too much time on the bus.
But instead of dismissing Rendell's proposal, those interested in improving public education should review Rendell's ideas with an open mind.
Rendell wants to create a legislative commission with a one-year timetable "to study how best to right-size Pennsylvania's local school districts," according to the Pennsylvania Department of Education. Those who work in the private sector understand that businesses continually search for ways to stay competitive. Often, this leads to consolidations within a particular business or a specific industry. School districts should not escape this scrutiny.
Rendell has said that consolidation would not require individual schools to close, but that it would reduce administrative costs. In the current economy, we have reached a tipping point. Property taxes can't be hiked every year to cover government spending that grows when everyone else is cutting back.
Erie's educational leaders and taxpayers should look to previous attempts to merge school districts and learn how those districts that passed on a merger are functioning today. The Harbor Creek and Iroquois school districts received a grant to share a business manager and considered merging in 1999. Girard and Fairview almost merged 40 years ago, but the fear of loss of local control and identity killed the merger.
How do property taxes compare for those districts now? What about course offerings for students? How have administrative costs changed over a specific time frame?
"There comes a time when you have to look beyond maintaining inefficiencies because somebody wants to maintain their school colors or mascot," said Center Area Superintendent Daniel Matsook, whose district in Beaver County will merge with Monaca on July 1. We like his blunt assessment.
We also like the attitude of Robert Puerta, board president in the Saucon Valley School District. "We should appreciate the governor's courage in raising this issue at a time when there is no consensus for such action. We never lose when we take the time to honestly discuss reform, and there are some great questions to be debated in this subject," Puerta wrote in an Op-ed for the Morning Call in Allentown.
Let the debate begin, without preconceived conclusions.
School district mergers worth talking about
Published: April 13. 2009 12:01AM
It's easy to anticipate the following arguments against Gov. Ed Rendell's proposal to pare Pennsylvania's school districts from 500 to 100.
-Large districts are unworkable.
-Smaller school districts are more attuned to the needs of the community.
-Previous mergers haven't saved money.
-Models from the business world can't be imposed on public education.
-Transportation costs would eat up savings and require students to spend too much time on the bus.
But instead of dismissing Rendell's proposal, those interested in improving public education should review Rendell's ideas with an open mind.
Rendell wants to create a legislative commission with a one-year timetable "to study how best to right-size Pennsylvania's local school districts," according to the Pennsylvania Department of Education. Those who work in the private sector understand that businesses continually search for ways to stay competitive. Often, this leads to consolidations within a particular business or a specific industry. School districts should not escape this scrutiny.
Rendell has said that consolidation would not require individual schools to close, but that it would reduce administrative costs. In the current economy, we have reached a tipping point. Property taxes can't be hiked every year to cover government spending that grows when everyone else is cutting back.
Erie's educational leaders and taxpayers should look to previous attempts to merge school districts and learn how those districts that passed on a merger are functioning today. The Harbor Creek and Iroquois school districts received a grant to share a business manager and considered merging in 1999. Girard and Fairview almost merged 40 years ago, but the fear of loss of local control and identity killed the merger.
How do property taxes compare for those districts now? What about course offerings for students? How have administrative costs changed over a specific time frame?
"There comes a time when you have to look beyond maintaining inefficiencies because somebody wants to maintain their school colors or mascot," said Center Area Superintendent Daniel Matsook, whose district in Beaver County will merge with Monaca on July 1. We like his blunt assessment.
We also like the attitude of Robert Puerta, board president in the Saucon Valley School District. "We should appreciate the governor's courage in raising this issue at a time when there is no consensus for such action. We never lose when we take the time to honestly discuss reform, and there are some great questions to be debated in this subject," Puerta wrote in an Op-ed for the Morning Call in Allentown.
Let the debate begin, without preconceived conclusions.
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