KTA
10-25-2007, 08:57 PM
Students, teachers face off over T-shirt
Tuesday, October 23, 2007
Christopher T. Hunnewell
It was just a T-shirt worn by Graham High School students on a Friday with no football game.
The dark-blue garment donned by around 80 kids had a simple message in white letters spelling “A-Day, B-Day” on the front and “Those were the good days” on the back.
But before the day was over, issues were raised regarding the school’s authority, rights of free speech and the willingness of future leaders to endure sacrifice for what they believed to be right.
“This is the first time,” said Curtis Ribble, “the students have worked together on anything.”
And for most of the students, the T-shirt was not a “big deal.”
What was a big deal, were changes GHS students have faced since school began in August.
GHS upperclassmen found the big deal as they stepped into their school’s hallways for the Fall 2007 semester where changes happened overnight. For nearly 15 years, most students attended classes under a college style system — A-days and B-days — where they attended certain classes on Monday, Wednesday and Friday, while others fell on Tuesday and Thursdays.
The former schedule offered students and teachers longer class time each day and more time to concentrate on homework and extracurricular activities. However, because the state’s educational requirements mandated a change in credit requirements to graduate, GHS was forced to reinstate the traditional eight-class-a-day week. That change displeased many in the student body already feeling pressured by circumstances beyond their control.
Other changes included the confusion caused by the recent renovation of the entire campus starting with razing of the old gym at the main GHS building for a new library. With construction, students found the main GHS hallway crowded as the passageway was literally cut in half with a white plywood wall. The claustrophobic conditions were compounded with irritating grinding and needle-gun sounds reverberating constantly throughout the building as workers prepared the space.
“This last eight weeks have been total chaos,” said Leaann Buckalew while bringing her daughter another T-shirt. “With the All American Girl Pageant, they don’t have time to prepare and Ricki has missed tennis twice. They want to prepare these kids for college, but I can also see both points.
“My problem is that as parents we’d like some answers. We’ve heard everything from they are saving $400,000 in salaries (by not having A and B classes) and all because the Texas mandate or that we didn’t score high enough on the TAKS test last year. We were only academically acceptable.”
The situation was ridiculous, Buckalew added, but very creative on the part of the kids.
“The kids didn’t stand out here and throw rocks,” she said. “If the administration had let it go, it would have blown over in 15 or 30 minutes.”
Most students interviewed understood the changes were unavoidable, necessary and welcome. Yet, they couldn’t help but feel bitter at the destruction of the familiar during a time they wanted to recall with fond memories. Seniors were also frustrated because they would not be able to enjoy the benefits.
“It is about change,” said GHS Principal Delesa Styles. “The seniors are upset that we are disrupting their senior year with construction. I’ve talked to seniors, and they say they want to remember the building as it was. But it’s part of progress. Our school is making progress.”
In an effort to offset the changes, Styles explained, the school has tried to provide as much structure and routine as possible. Yet, the rules were the rules.
Earlier in the year, after word got out that students were considering buying the “A-Day, B-Day” T-shirts, Dean of Students Jerry Gibson spoke with a couple of students, Styles added, and told them that the school’s primary function is to promote learning and, therefore, any T-shirt that interferes with the learning environment would not be approved.
“Any kind of club or organizations must be approved,” Styles said. “They didn’t ask for permission, but they were specifically talked to about those shirts last night.”
Styles said her main concern was that an independent group tried to make choices in an effort to see how the school would respond, “or if anything would happen.”
“Our campus goal is to provide a safe learning environment with attendance, behavior and learning,” Styles said. “So it’s not about the T-shirts but about enforcing policies and rules. There’s nothing offensive about the shirt — it’s the behavior associated with the shirts.”
The other concern, she added, is that if the issue wasn’t addressed, what would happen next?
“It is a great shirt to wear for the weekend,” Styles said. “ But if I’m to prepare these kids for the work world, they have to understand that sometimes we change hats. There is a time and a place for specific types of dress.”
Without official sanction, student leaders proposed the idea of remembering the former class schedule and peacefully venting their frustration weeks before the Oct. 19 standoff. Organizers approached their classmates with the opportunity to buy the shirts and show their solidarity during National Freedom of Speech Week.
“If she could have afforded the price of a shirt,” said one parent, “my daughter would have been wearing one, too.”
Gibson, Styles pointed out, outlined to the students that though the shirts didn’t meet the restrictions of garments with either lewd words or symbols and didn’t promote violence, gangs or substance abuse, it was the administration’s conclusion that the shirts would be a disruption of classes. Referencing the student handbook and code of conduct, which all the students signed, the student leaders were informed that the principal had the authority to ban any item of clothing deemed disruptive to the main objective of all school: education.
“In no shape or form was this something we were going to take action on and march on the administration,” said Chance Moreland, historian for the Thespian Club. “We know they won’t change the schedule, we just wanted to say something funny.”
Considering the action to be harmless fun, student leaders assumed that the administration could not control a strong show of solidarity and put out the word that everyone with a shirt should wear them Friday. But the students were wrong as teachers met students at the doors or in parking lots and directed them to remove the shirts, change into another or go home and change.
“I didn’t think it was going to be a big deal when I pulled up this morning,” Moreland said. “I thought the administration was going to ignore it, and everyone else would say ‘oh well, pooh’ and give it up. But when I got out there, where there are normally one or two teachers, they had extra help trying to get people out of their cars to see their shirts. People would walk by and they’d say, ‘you, you and you, go home, go home, go home.’”
Many students said they were not aware of the consequences if they wore the shirts but simply thought it was “a cool shirt.”
“We’re just doing this, we didn’t know we would get in trouble about it,” said Shannon Dockstader. “I’m not sure why they are making it a big deal. We talked about how we liked A Day and B Day, and they are getting mad about it.”
Though the administration was firm that the shirts would not be allowed in class, the debate did not get tense. The only authorities enforcing the rule were the educators. The most notable use of force was the sight of a diminutive teacher with her head barely reaching the top of a young man’s shoulder as she grasped him firmly by the elbow and guided him politely to the administration office to change. Meanwhile, coaches with voices capable of rattling a chain length fence on the playing field quietly offered “no comment” and directed their charges with a nod to class.
When one boy was informed he couldn’t wear the shirt, he proceeded to revert from shirt to skin and started for class before teachers stopped his progress.
By 9 a.m., the sunshine patriots and summer soldiers whom Thomas Payne wrote about more than 200 years ago had ditched their uniforms for civvies.
“They’re all rock stars given the chance,” said one teacher.
Yet, others were firmly resolved in their belief to carry through something they believed to be right. Lesley Gatlin and Amanda Cerecedez refused to compromise by changing shirts or “signing out” for the day but held their heads up and accepted in school suspension. Gatlin had refused to remove her T-shirt but removed it as she made her way for a day in “The Little House on the Prairie” as the I.S.S. Building is referred.
“She didn’t care,” said an unidentified girl. “But she has the full support of the student body.”
Leaving their classes, kids donned the blue shirts as a comfortable option to the low 90-degree temperatures of mid afternoon. Few, such as Ricki Buckalew and Cerecedez, had any regrets.
“If we didn’t do this that would be going back on our word,” said Ricki. “We’re making a statement, and we can’t just take it back as soon as the administration says so.”
“We didn’t mean it as a political statement,” Cerecedez said. “We just wanted to remember things the way they were.”
Tuesday, October 23, 2007
Christopher T. Hunnewell
It was just a T-shirt worn by Graham High School students on a Friday with no football game.
The dark-blue garment donned by around 80 kids had a simple message in white letters spelling “A-Day, B-Day” on the front and “Those were the good days” on the back.
But before the day was over, issues were raised regarding the school’s authority, rights of free speech and the willingness of future leaders to endure sacrifice for what they believed to be right.
“This is the first time,” said Curtis Ribble, “the students have worked together on anything.”
And for most of the students, the T-shirt was not a “big deal.”
What was a big deal, were changes GHS students have faced since school began in August.
GHS upperclassmen found the big deal as they stepped into their school’s hallways for the Fall 2007 semester where changes happened overnight. For nearly 15 years, most students attended classes under a college style system — A-days and B-days — where they attended certain classes on Monday, Wednesday and Friday, while others fell on Tuesday and Thursdays.
The former schedule offered students and teachers longer class time each day and more time to concentrate on homework and extracurricular activities. However, because the state’s educational requirements mandated a change in credit requirements to graduate, GHS was forced to reinstate the traditional eight-class-a-day week. That change displeased many in the student body already feeling pressured by circumstances beyond their control.
Other changes included the confusion caused by the recent renovation of the entire campus starting with razing of the old gym at the main GHS building for a new library. With construction, students found the main GHS hallway crowded as the passageway was literally cut in half with a white plywood wall. The claustrophobic conditions were compounded with irritating grinding and needle-gun sounds reverberating constantly throughout the building as workers prepared the space.
“This last eight weeks have been total chaos,” said Leaann Buckalew while bringing her daughter another T-shirt. “With the All American Girl Pageant, they don’t have time to prepare and Ricki has missed tennis twice. They want to prepare these kids for college, but I can also see both points.
“My problem is that as parents we’d like some answers. We’ve heard everything from they are saving $400,000 in salaries (by not having A and B classes) and all because the Texas mandate or that we didn’t score high enough on the TAKS test last year. We were only academically acceptable.”
The situation was ridiculous, Buckalew added, but very creative on the part of the kids.
“The kids didn’t stand out here and throw rocks,” she said. “If the administration had let it go, it would have blown over in 15 or 30 minutes.”
Most students interviewed understood the changes were unavoidable, necessary and welcome. Yet, they couldn’t help but feel bitter at the destruction of the familiar during a time they wanted to recall with fond memories. Seniors were also frustrated because they would not be able to enjoy the benefits.
“It is about change,” said GHS Principal Delesa Styles. “The seniors are upset that we are disrupting their senior year with construction. I’ve talked to seniors, and they say they want to remember the building as it was. But it’s part of progress. Our school is making progress.”
In an effort to offset the changes, Styles explained, the school has tried to provide as much structure and routine as possible. Yet, the rules were the rules.
Earlier in the year, after word got out that students were considering buying the “A-Day, B-Day” T-shirts, Dean of Students Jerry Gibson spoke with a couple of students, Styles added, and told them that the school’s primary function is to promote learning and, therefore, any T-shirt that interferes with the learning environment would not be approved.
“Any kind of club or organizations must be approved,” Styles said. “They didn’t ask for permission, but they were specifically talked to about those shirts last night.”
Styles said her main concern was that an independent group tried to make choices in an effort to see how the school would respond, “or if anything would happen.”
“Our campus goal is to provide a safe learning environment with attendance, behavior and learning,” Styles said. “So it’s not about the T-shirts but about enforcing policies and rules. There’s nothing offensive about the shirt — it’s the behavior associated with the shirts.”
The other concern, she added, is that if the issue wasn’t addressed, what would happen next?
“It is a great shirt to wear for the weekend,” Styles said. “ But if I’m to prepare these kids for the work world, they have to understand that sometimes we change hats. There is a time and a place for specific types of dress.”
Without official sanction, student leaders proposed the idea of remembering the former class schedule and peacefully venting their frustration weeks before the Oct. 19 standoff. Organizers approached their classmates with the opportunity to buy the shirts and show their solidarity during National Freedom of Speech Week.
“If she could have afforded the price of a shirt,” said one parent, “my daughter would have been wearing one, too.”
Gibson, Styles pointed out, outlined to the students that though the shirts didn’t meet the restrictions of garments with either lewd words or symbols and didn’t promote violence, gangs or substance abuse, it was the administration’s conclusion that the shirts would be a disruption of classes. Referencing the student handbook and code of conduct, which all the students signed, the student leaders were informed that the principal had the authority to ban any item of clothing deemed disruptive to the main objective of all school: education.
“In no shape or form was this something we were going to take action on and march on the administration,” said Chance Moreland, historian for the Thespian Club. “We know they won’t change the schedule, we just wanted to say something funny.”
Considering the action to be harmless fun, student leaders assumed that the administration could not control a strong show of solidarity and put out the word that everyone with a shirt should wear them Friday. But the students were wrong as teachers met students at the doors or in parking lots and directed them to remove the shirts, change into another or go home and change.
“I didn’t think it was going to be a big deal when I pulled up this morning,” Moreland said. “I thought the administration was going to ignore it, and everyone else would say ‘oh well, pooh’ and give it up. But when I got out there, where there are normally one or two teachers, they had extra help trying to get people out of their cars to see their shirts. People would walk by and they’d say, ‘you, you and you, go home, go home, go home.’”
Many students said they were not aware of the consequences if they wore the shirts but simply thought it was “a cool shirt.”
“We’re just doing this, we didn’t know we would get in trouble about it,” said Shannon Dockstader. “I’m not sure why they are making it a big deal. We talked about how we liked A Day and B Day, and they are getting mad about it.”
Though the administration was firm that the shirts would not be allowed in class, the debate did not get tense. The only authorities enforcing the rule were the educators. The most notable use of force was the sight of a diminutive teacher with her head barely reaching the top of a young man’s shoulder as she grasped him firmly by the elbow and guided him politely to the administration office to change. Meanwhile, coaches with voices capable of rattling a chain length fence on the playing field quietly offered “no comment” and directed their charges with a nod to class.
When one boy was informed he couldn’t wear the shirt, he proceeded to revert from shirt to skin and started for class before teachers stopped his progress.
By 9 a.m., the sunshine patriots and summer soldiers whom Thomas Payne wrote about more than 200 years ago had ditched their uniforms for civvies.
“They’re all rock stars given the chance,” said one teacher.
Yet, others were firmly resolved in their belief to carry through something they believed to be right. Lesley Gatlin and Amanda Cerecedez refused to compromise by changing shirts or “signing out” for the day but held their heads up and accepted in school suspension. Gatlin had refused to remove her T-shirt but removed it as she made her way for a day in “The Little House on the Prairie” as the I.S.S. Building is referred.
“She didn’t care,” said an unidentified girl. “But she has the full support of the student body.”
Leaving their classes, kids donned the blue shirts as a comfortable option to the low 90-degree temperatures of mid afternoon. Few, such as Ricki Buckalew and Cerecedez, had any regrets.
“If we didn’t do this that would be going back on our word,” said Ricki. “We’re making a statement, and we can’t just take it back as soon as the administration says so.”
“We didn’t mean it as a political statement,” Cerecedez said. “We just wanted to remember things the way they were.”