Because Someone Has To Do Something

When I graduated high school I gave a speech. It contained several witty remarks and other pleasantries that seemed to make people smile, but the overriding theme was that even though this town is full of people that make it continually sink deeper and deeper into a neverending abyss...it's yours, and you should never forget that. Over the past two years I've spent more time away from Cambridge than in it. Just two years ago I left a place that was by no means perfect, but respectable all the same. Over the past two years something has gone horribly wrong.

A school system that's produced great people, many of whom I graduated with, flunked half of its freshman class for the 2004-2005 school year. Not an exaggeration. A school that used to put on one of Southeastern Ohio's best spring musicals now faces cuts that could end the arts programs altogether. A school that once boasted a fine English department that was recently upgraded with a new, highly-qualified teacher, has now cut that teacher and another one. There are reasons the district that many of my lifelong friends and I called home is now bankrupt, many of these reasons are brought on at the highest levels. Ohio has held on to a form of school funding years after it's been declared unconstitutional while the legislative barons in Columbus twiddle their thumbs in anticipation of the latest election results as their children attend Upper Arlington and New Albany. Meanwhile a 13-year-old Cambridge kid from First Street is walking out of class to buy a pack of smokes everyday at Secrest Carryout.

Aside from the reasons we find ourselves in this quagmire, the true outrage comes from our futile attempts to get out of it. A wicked and twisted tale Strangely enough...it all starts with basketball.

Basketball is king in the Bridge and has been for some time. This is mostly because of a coach by the name of Gene Ford who was one of the best in the state. Eventually though, he was forced to retire and someone had to take his place. One of the possible replacements was longtime assistant Mike Andrews. (Yeah I'm gonna use names. Someone has to start getting kind of pissed about this.) Mike's dad, Fred Andrews, also happened to be a longtime member of the Cambridge City Board of Education. This seemed to be a match made in heaven except for the fact that Mikey was a prick and none of the kids wanted him to be their coach. The man reportedly knew little to nothing about the game and sure as hell didn't know how to relay what little information he had to the minds of young athletes. Luckily, the position was filled by a man from Coldwater by the name of Don Vogt. Vogt was also an accomplished English teacher and even accredited to be a principal. It was from this day forward that the conspiracy theorists insisted that Fred would have his revenge. No one really paid attention to it though. Sure, we all knew that Mike wanted to be coach, but none of us really thought Fred would seek it out come hell or high water. Right? Keep reading.

So Vogt takes over even though he understands that the district is under extreme financial distress and cuts would be made in the near future. He caught on with the kids and even better with the teachers. I know this because he's been backed up by none other than CHS' own English fashionista, Darlene Carpenter. Carpenter is a bulldog of a teacher cares about educating like no one else in the building. She was my teacher for AP English III and IV and I can attest to her...well....intensity. However, I cannot deny that her class was the only one Cambridge offers that comes close to preparing a student for college and her constant drilling of grammar principles helped me win a scholarship here at OU. She publicly praised Vogt's tactics and for this I believe he is bulletproof, at least academically.

On the court he took a team that had lost an enormous amount of talent and took them to a 14 win season, earning District Coach of the Year honors. He had effectively earned the respect of the Bobcat faithful. However, everyone continued to worry about cuts. He was the most recently added teacher and in the world of the Teacher's Union that seems to be all the evidence needed to show that he should be the first to get the axe.

Well the school year progressed and the deadline for the belt-tightening came ever closer. This is when the conspiracy theorists again reared their ugly heads, claiming that this is where Fred will get Mikey in the catbird seat. But that didn't make sense. Sure, we had to cut millions but so have other schools in the area. You don't cut core English teachers. You hold town meetings and you decide to cut extra art teachers, random aides, weightlifting programs, supplemental contracts for coaches and advisors, you make sports 'pay to play,' but you don't just cut an English teacher.

Slowly though, heads started to turn. No town meetings were being seen. Fred, president of the school board, was holding several meetings in executive session. The public was being cut out, my friends. Democracy is not ringing through the hills and the ones that are paying the price are the kids that have to try and make it through this school system. The conspiracy theorists were growing in number.

A few people started to notice. Near by Meadowbrook High School underwent similar cuts. They held meetings. They cut the fat. They cut what they had. What were we doing? We were mocking them with T-shirts that read, "Pay to Play? Don't Bother." We were sliding down a slippery slope and the minority was slowly growing...as were the conspiracy theorists.

"Vogt is gonna be gone." "Fred's gonna take care of Mikey boy." "I saw Mike and Fred at the Elks with a shit eating grin on their faces." "Someone should say something."

But no one did. Til the unthinkable. Fred put on motion on the table to revert from block scheduling to the classic eight day period. Fred had a plan, and now people were beginning to see it. The conspiracy theorists were becoming the whispering minority. But the whispers were getting louder.

People came out in droves, the motion was batted down. Fred fumed. But alas, he has balls. Oh does he have balls. While meeting with superintendent Susan Tucker the idea of pay-to-play was reportedly brought up. Fred thought the idea was proposterous. He didn't want to cut there. Let's start with teachers instead. The tyrant was starting to see that it was pointless to hide his actions, instead choosing to let his evil form show like the aliens in Invasion of the Body Snatchers. One of the teachers cut...Don Vogt. We still pay out for club advisors and volleyball coaches but we lose one of our better educators. Nay, better role models. The Conspiracy Theorists were no longer Conspiracy Theorists at all...they were truth seekers.

Still though, the noble Vogt worked with his players. Coaching, organizing, and being a leader of young men. Susan Tucker spread the damage control, "Our goal is to rehire and find places for all the teachers we've cut by way of reorganization and pending retirements of other teachers." A voice of hope from the pit of despair.

But like we said, Fred had a plan. Sitting atop the newly formed financial committee, Fred has just recently motioned for a hiring freeze on all new teachers. If passed these teachers cannot be rehired. This is a move that holds absolutely NO reasoning besides to keep Vogt out. This is now an outrage. We're forced to cut millions. Millions. We have decisions to make. Lots of them. Meanwhile, our leadership is whistledicking around trying to take care of a couple of good ol' boys. Doesn't anyone see that if the proper cuts aren't made that the State of Ohio will effectively take over our district? At that point we don't get to decide what we want.

You want sports? Sorry.
You want music? Too bad.
You want a voice in your local education system? Fuck off.

This can't stand.

2,739. That's how may kids are currently in the Cambridge City School system. That's 2,739 lives that Fred Andrews has taken it upon himself to fuck with. Ranging in ages from 5 to 18. My little brother. My two little cousins. My two other little cousins.

As I write this I'm livid. As I write this I'm reminded of Hunter S. Thompson writing about Nixon. I'm reminded of a man who sits around and believe he and everyone else let it get this bad. Things are dire my friends. And if you think anything less then you might as well stick your head in the sand with the rest of the group sitting around at the Elks on Tuesday night.

Something has to be done. Do any of you weep when you drive away from Cambridge? Do you weep when you leave that place because you know that one day you'll have to explain to your children that you are from there and that you were once proud to be so? Do you wonder what will happen when you're forced to leave a town in which your family worked hard for generations to build a reputation only to have it be overrun with so many imbeciles that the idiots eventually outnumber the reasonable? I do. Everytime, I do.

Remember that speech I was talking about? At all? I know, I never imagined we'd have to help out this early. I never imagined things could fall so far. I never imagined the gluttonous persuit of power and title would manifest itself in a thing as pure as education. A thing so pure and fragile as the future of an already dwindling community. But alas...here we are.

So I'm asking you to help me...help all of us. Class of '04...'03....'02.....'05....'76....'55....do something. College students...write a letter. Send an email. Here's Susan Tucker's email address: cam_susan@omeresa.net Specifics? You don't need them. Just tell her that you're a Cambridge High School graduate and you're concerned. Here's the email you'd use to send a letter to The Daily Jeffersonian: gparks@daily-jeff.com They have to publish it. It's a small town, everyone reads the letters to the editor. Let them know you're angry.

I may seems dire. I may seem reckless. I may seem like I just need to calm down a little bit. I can't. I KNOW this is bigger than me, I know this matters. It's always been a problem of mine...I just give a damn.

Now I'm asking you to as well.

No matter where you go, what you do, you'll always have to tell people that you're from Cambridge, Ohio. Don't make it so you despise doing so.