Wednesday, August 20, 2003

Bus route fiasco lesson: Parents, get involved

By J. FRANK LYNCH
jflynch@theCitizenNews.com

Back in January, the fine residents of Clayton County woke up one morning to find that the new majority-black county school board had up and fired a well-liked white superintendent, without warning or justification.

That action and the way it was handled was illegal. Are you surprised? The three women sitting at the top of the school board who hatched the plan certainly were, once the legal bills began rolling in. That single action eight months ago led to a grand jury inquiry, cat-fights and walkouts at board meetings, threats of lawsuits on top of lawsuits, a Chamber of Commerce plea for resignations, a black boycott of white businesses, an exodus of experienced teachers and, finally, probationary status from the Southeastern Association of Colleges and Schools, the agency that accredits Georgia's public schools.

Have you heard the latest? Apparently under the advice of Jesse Jackson, the power brokers on the Clayton board think they should sue SACS for discrimination, an action so stupid on its face, it's stunning anybody would consider it.

Clayton Countians say they've had enough.

So say the people of Fayette County, up in arms at a school board vote back in June to save some money on transportation spending by making kids walk just a bit further to the bus stop.

Are we a bunch of snobs, or what?

Apparently so. In Fayette County, every government body will tell you (if your tax bill does not) that this is a service-oriented community. We pay for good schools; good schools are a service. The Board of Education is elected to ensure that service is maintained. Bus transportation that far exceeds the minimum requirements set forth by the state is luxury service.

I've heard enough sob stories this week about the bus route policy change to know that many families did, indeed, end up on the wrong end of the stick, and many kids were placed in unsafe situations, and many of the decisions made over the summer about just who would be picked up and when and where and how often ... well, those decisions were not thought through very well.

And like you, I still want to know what happened to the "letter,"the mail-out that allegedly went to all the families affected by the loss of bus service. Most everybody said they found out from their principals, but even the principals and bus drivers seemeda little stunned by the news.

I talked with a father who was sent one of the postmarked letters, with his name on it, but it arrivedat the address of his brother a few streets over, and even then it referenced his daughter and his brother's son as siblings though they are, of course, first cousins.

I'm sure that's just the tip of the iceberg, and you can either laugh that off as some computer or human glitch, or believe it is more evidence of the grand conspiracy put forth that John DeCotis has horns, laughs with a devilish hack and walks around all day rubbing his hands together as if to be plotting the next grand plot.

And have you heard the one about schools transportation director Pam Holt? That she's so jealous of Peachtree City tennis moms that she devised the new route plan just to get back at them?

And that last one was told to me with a straight face.

Clearly, two truths have emerged from the Great School Bus Route War of 2003:

· School administrators dropped the communications ball, big time.

·People in Fayette County have very little grasp of how their schools are operated or paid for.

That last one became painfully clear to me last Wednesday, when I attended a gathering of parents at The Estates neighborhood where horror stories were shared and strategy was plotted.

Though it is a cardinal rule in journalism not to cross that "line" between observer and participant, I lowered my notebook to point out that over the three months or so during which I wrote about the school board budget adoption, not one time did a parent, resident or taxpayer rise up to ask for a copy of the budget to examine, much less ask a question.

In a broad sense, this blame needs to be shared. At the least, understanding is in order.

The Fayette County Board of Education doesn't resemble a piece of plywood and they don't walk around all day wearing robes and mortar boards.

They are a citizen's advisory panel elected by you to four-year terms to fulfill three main tasks:

1. Hire a superintendent;

2. Approve staff-proposed policy;

3. Adopt a balanced budget and set a tax millage rate.

Not very exciting, huh? You should attend some of the meetings.

No, really: You should attend some of the meetings.

Better yet, run for one of the five seats. You can live anywhere in the county and win. That's why the current five-member board has two Tyrone residents, two Fayetteville residents and one from Brooks.

Uh? What's missing from that mix? About 33 percent of the county's total population lives inside Peachtree City. Debbie Condon, who went off the board nearly three years ago, was the last city resident to serve, and nobody's sure who came before her.

Where's the outcry over that?

As for allegations that the board manhandles your money without you knowing what they're spending it on, join the club: I feel certain none of them comprehend where every nickel, dime and penny go, either.

When your task is to provide oversight of the county's largest employer and (if product output could be measured) biggest industry, you should be forgiven for not knowing right off how much savings goes into moving a bus stop down the hill a bit.

Would another set of eyes or clear heads, brought together to consider the consequences of altering bus routes, made a difference last week? I bet so. Think about it.

A few years back, the school district enlisted the aid of regular joes and sues to come up with a "Facilities Equity Plan," to make sure all of the county's high schools had like facilities.

Why can't the same be done for next year's budget process? To make things more representative than the school board itself, draw three taxpayers from each of the county's five high school clusters, one each to focus on elementary, middle and high school spending needs.

Those 15 people would be charged with a task as simple as this: Read the budget.

Go over it with a fine-tooth comb and a red pen. Ask questions in an appropriate forum and at an agreed upon time. Try your luck understanding the funding mechanism.

But most importantly, question things that just don't seem to add up or haven't been thought through. Things like cuts to transportation funding and service and the potential consequences to some families.

If we had a group of folks into the budget like that back in May, do you think we'd have had the kind of week we just experienced?