My most recent story for The Herald is one that I’ve written before.
After years of battling with the council, parents at four Highland schools have launched a joint campaign to fight understaffing and declining enrollment.
“Rural school in trouble, community rallies to save it” is a headline – or some version of it – that I’ve had to write at least twice a year since I began covering education, which dates back to my time in the United States.
In fact, my first big scoop as a reporter was when I found out that my local school system in North Carolina was considering closing a 100-year-old school.
They had only a few months to plug a gaping hole in the budget, and this school – which had been a net drain on resources for almost a decade – fit the bill.
It had everything you could hope for in a juicy story: Good intentions gone bad, the potential influence of wealthy landowners, families sharing emotional connections to the school over generations – I spoke to one woman whose parents and grandparents met there – and everyone’s favourite questions over misuse of public money.
But it also had something that you never enjoy seeing in any story, no matter how much it sells: a grieving community.
As you can guess, the school closed.
Silver lining: It was quickly replaced by a private charter school. Education continues on the campus and properties in the area have retained some of their value.
