Nostalgia vs. Change

Nostalgia vs. Change
Nostalgia is a wonderful thing. We can look back and remember any number of places, people and events, often erasing the negative aspects of those memories. Such is the case for me and Ripley Central School. My earliest memories are of looking forward to the day I could go to school like the big kids. I remember being a bit scared the first day when my mother dropped me off. But I also remember having a crush on a fellow kindergartner along with another girl in the class. In typical little girl fashion we called each other names and staked our claim on poor Mark, who was probably oblivious to the entire episode anyway. He didn’t stay in Ripley long, so we moved on to other things.
Every so often, usually during class reunion years, I wax nostalgic about the events I attended at the school. I liked basketball and was a cheerleader for awhile. I never understood football, but went to the games anyway, usually hanging out under the bleachers with friends or near the snack stand. The best, though, were the dances. Walking into the dimly lit gym, the smell of sweaty bodies, and the anticipation of being asked to dance –wow – what a walk down memory lane.
Much of my identity was built around school. Good student, feisty, root for the underdog, flirt; these attributes identified me during my high school years. Some things I’m proud of, others not so much. I collected memorabilia throughout school, not only yearbooks, but I still have my basketball bracelet with R-I-P-L-E-Y spelled out, two seat warmers (plastic covered cushioned pads) I bought for those cold football games, and of course my class ring. I have years’ worth of signed yearbooks because I didn’t want to forget anybody. School was my refuge, my "safest shelter" as is sung in the school song.
Now there is talk of merging Ripley and Westfield schools. The school population of Ripley, and I presume Westfield, is a fraction of what it was when I attended classes. In fact, I was shocked at being told the enrollment is down to 400 students, with projections of 250 students in 10 years. It saddens me to know how many programs and classes have been cut that I enjoyed. The sports program is minimal at best. The memories I love so well won’t be the memories of recent graduating classes, for they never experienced those events, classes, or trips like I did.
But time moves on. It is time to think of the quality of the education our children are receiving. It is time to think of how well or ill prepared they are to enter colleges and the workforce. The competition out there is intense, and the economy suffering. Tax bases and transportation issues aside, the main focus for all of us ought to be giving our children a quality education, wherever that education takes place. A building is just a building. It is the teachers, staff and students who create the memories and identity of a student body, not where they are located. Our kids, both Ripley and Westfield, deserve the best we can give them. The memories we have of our school are precious, but they are just that, memories, and no one can take them away.