Wait! Do We Really Have to Do This?
Change sometimes takes the form of a wrecking ball
Come to think of it, I can’t tell you the last time I’ve seen a wrecking ball. Most of the demolitions I’ve seen are either done with excavators with the hydraulic shears attached, or the more visually and auditorily pleasing use of explosions to raze a building. Except for the Miley Cyrus tune, I’m not exactly sure when I’ve heard about wrecking balls, except seeing a few in random videos (maybe on Sesame Street) of them when I was growing up in the 80s.
This summer will see demolition begin on some of the older buildings at the high school where I currently teach. Growing up, a school with more than one main building was unheard of, so the fact that students walk around outside to change classes is still something I’m getting used to, even after nearly three years of working here. Four buildings will start to be demolished this summer, and if one has any doubt as to whether it’s going to happen, they’ve recently set up the temporary construction destruction office on the practice football field. A recent bond package was voted upon in the affirmative by county residents, so the buildings being removed will be replaced with a giant new building with all sorts of classroom space and amenities, just in time for the 2027-2028 school year.
On an upcoming Saturday morning, alumni and former faculty alike will be invited for an opportunity to walk through some of the old buildings one last time, possibly while rekindling memories of former classes, teachers, and friends. The opportunity will also be present for those who choose to do so to recall places they went to while skipping class or engaging in other mischievous acts that kids have performed over the past several decades.
Since transferring here nearly three years ago, I have taught Freshman English in the same classroom in one of the newest buildings on campus. Yes, its new and the cafeteria is right downstairs, but it’s not the perfect place. Its status as a “smart building” means that the temperature is controlled through some force unbeknownst to me, and my windows don’t actually, um...open. Those beautiful breezy mornings that happen so often can only be watched from inside with the windows closed. In the older buildings with openable windows, the breezes can be enjoyed year-round. Sure, the HVAC may not be perfect…but breezes!
While I don’t spend a lot of time in the older buildings, I’m there every so often, whether it be the occasional covering of a class, a duty post here and there, or a need to see another teacher. I’ve always believed that the older school buildings had a character that these new “technologically advanced smart” buildings don’t have. Sure, there are probably some chemicals in there, they may leak from time to time, and they may be borderline freezing in the wintertime and stifling during the summer. Yet that was how many of us grew up, especially those of us 80s/90s kids who attended school in buildings that were almost as old as our parents. For many of us, that’s what the school building looked like, and what it is supposed to look like. Forever.
Some schools across the district have already been torn down and rebuilt, and yes…the new buildings are beautiful, sleek, and efficient. Yet, my childhood school buildings still call from my memory banks, especially my old high school that was built in the early 1960’s. We had no air conditioning and had to open windows in the late spring and smell cow manure, but it was special in its own weird, nostalgic way. The idea that many schools are now built with non-operable windows gives me pause, wondering how these students will survive without a cooling breeze that carries the sounds of the birds into the classroom on an autumn afternoon.
I recently heard that my hometown high school was demolished with a new building taking its place. There is no emotional attachment that leaves me in tears, but it might have been neat to see it one last time. It’s not like I’m Zack Morris tearfully flipping through my yearbook and singing the school song in my head over and over. One, I would’ve had to have reached the peak of my existence in high school, and two…we would’ve had to have had a school song. Not sure we did, and if it did exist, I never sang it. Our mascot was the Thunderbird, so it probably would have been about a bird with a line or two about victory crashing across the field like thund- O.K. I’m getting carried away here.
The point is that change is inevitable, and the new school will be amazing, but the character and history of the school will be lessened by the absence of the original buildings. They may save a brick or two as artifacts, but they’ll simply be put somewhere and forgotten while students file in and out of the new buildings, not giving much of a thought to what once stood on the ground they are walking on. The cycle will go on throughout the rest of time with the old stepping aside (or being forcefully shoved aside) to make room for the new, even though with all of the associated bells and whistles, it won’t have the same appeal as what once was.
Hello voice... I sense your affection for memories of a building in which you practiced your desire to teach our youth. Unfortunately I do not know what subject you taught. As 1/3 rd vocations have corrupted our childrens dreams. If you were a must or art teacher or perhaps a school team sport coach or even a janitor I can applaud your service. However if any of the basics such as reading and writing or math I cannot condone.
Those buildings hold fond memories for you, however they are a symbol of public education brainwashing our children. Your vocation has been corrupted. Curious as to how you feel about your teachers union. I cannot see how that your craft would allow unqualified teachers to obtain protection from being fired?
Teaching seniority or protection of our children's minds from those fuckin D.E.I. fuck hires. Abomination to what all parents want for their own children.
A 'smart school' with windows that don't open sounds dystopian as hell. Glad most of the schools here in Ontario are still suck in the 60s and 70s.