Our Community’s Best Resource: Letter

Ten years ago, I left an underfunded school district after having taught there for eight years. Every year there were several new teachers because many of my seasoned peers left for positions in districts with better pay or better environments, often both. Some new teachers were energetic and fresh out of college. Some were late-summer hires. But to be frank, they were the teachers that other districts wouldn’t hire. They were the teachers that had been let go or passed over by other schools. My district hired them for low pay, but always with the hope that they might possess the knowledge, passion, experience, and determination to inspire our students and show them that they were valuable, and important enough to deserve a good education.

On the first day of each school year, our students often found that many of their favorite teachers had left and were now replaced with new faces, new teachers that they had to navigate new relationships with all over again. The absence of their favorite teachers year after year was a stark reminder, on what should be exciting first days of school, that the students were once again abandoned, that maybe they just didn’t matter enough, that their education wasn’t important.
It didn’t take long before the students became hardened, a little closed off. They no longer wanted to form relationships with teachers because they knew they’d just end up leaving. The dirty floors, the stained walls, the broken desks, the shared textbooks with swear words, the failing computers were additional daily reminders that their education wasn’t important, that they didn’t matter. They wore coats all day because the classrooms didn’t have adequate heat. The copy machines didn’t work and had run out of paper by February vacation anyway. During class they read their shared textbooks rather than learning lessons because they couldn’t take the books home. And the state curriculum took a back seat to meeting basic needs: making kids feel safe, wanted, appreciated, valued.

Now, I’m asking you to put yourself in their shoes. How would that environment make you feel? How would it affect your behavior? Your ability and desire to learn? Your concept of self-worth? Your attitude towards your city and community?

We saw that throughout the years our students’ attitudes and behaviors deteriorated. And because many of our new teachers were not as experienced or passionate or determined as the district had hoped, or maybe they didn’t care to teach students that no longer cared about learning, they too left for those better paying jobs in nicer districts. Sometimes they left in the middle of the year, and would be replaced with a makeshift string of substitute teachers, some who may or may not have even graduated from high school.

And our students’ attitudes and behaviors were not limited to inside the schools. Students left the building at the end of the day more frustrated than they entered it. The broken equipment at the few city parks, the graffiti that adorned public spaces, the scowls on the faces of young, hopeless teenagers — all signs that the entire community had abandoned them, too. This district wasn’t Melrose. It wasn’t Boston or Lawrence or Fall River. It was a suburban district just a little smaller than Melrose, and not so different. It is my fear that this fate could be our future.

When my children come home from school talking about their days, I often think back to that district. Instead of building ladders to the stars, my former students were dog-paddling just to get above water.

With state funding cuts coupled with rising costs, it has been admirable that our city and district have found creative ways to stay afloat. But we are starting to slip under. Students who once were able to choose electives that interest them get assigned to whatever electives aren’t full. Children who excel in school might be stuck in a support class because there are no open electives. Students have had to say goodbye to great and favorite teachers, some whose positions were never filled again.

Our community’s best resource now, and in the future, is our youth. We owe it to our current and future generations to show them that they matter, that their education is important. Please join me on April 2 in voting yes for the override.

Kristi Bach
Melrose Resident, Parent, and Former Public School Teacher