Hometown Gatherings

The school system of my hometown was recently recognized as a Bronze Award winner by U.S. News and World Report, one of only eighteen schools in the State of Illinois to be highlighted. Last night, nearly 300 people gathered to celebrate an accomplishment that few in the nation can claim and I left that gathering with a lump in my throat and pride in my heart. Given that Marissa, Illinois, is a town of only 2,600 souls, which reflects a decline in population over the last twenty five years or so, and given that Marissa, Illinois, continues to struggle to recover after losing its primary source of jobs and economic stability in the closing of the coal mines and the loss of family farms in the late 80's, this recognition of the educational system is all the more inspiring.

The town of Marissa in which I grew up was a far different town, with a far different population, than what is present today. I was blessed to attend a school district in a town which existed in a region of reasonable prosperity. The coal mines employed hundreds, if not thousands, of area individuals, and issued paychecks, not only to the people it directly employed, but by default, to all of the area businesses, churches, and schools. Agriculture was still the booming business of the 'family farm' and family farms abounded in the 60's, 70's and early 80's, before the bottom dropped out of the commodity and land markets in the mid 80's. The 'one-two' punch of coal mining and agriculture created an atmosphere of abundance and optimism. Home values steadily increased, the school district grew modestly in most years, and the relative stability of the family and community combined to create an educational environment that most, even today, can only speak of in idealized tones. It was a gift too many of us took for granted, having no idea what the impending economic downturn would do to our beloved community.

As the coal mines closed, either because they 'ran out of reserves' or because newly created limitations on 'high-sulfur coal' forced the coal companies to abandon continued operations in the region as unprofitable, and as the agricultural community declined in the mid-80's and family farms began to disappear from the landscape, casualties of the corporate mentality of 'grow or go-away', so, too, did the community shrink and suffer.

Coal miners could either follow the mine work to other states where openings could be found, even if it meant working in non-union settings, or they could stay and re-tool, going back to school and trying to land a job in a market being rapidly saturated by people just like themselves. Many aspired for jobs that would pay them at a level similar to what they had become accustomed, most settled for hourly wages far removed from the level of pay they had received at the coal mines, just so they could stay in the communities in which they had grown up. For many, they quickly became the working poor, selling nearly everything they had at rock bottom prices just make ends meet, while politicians promised them better years down the road if they could just hang on.

Farmers, dispossessed of their land, hard work and dreams, with no corporate 're-tooling' dollars available for education, sought jobs in the fields they best knew, many of them going to work as hourly factory workers, welders, sales people, and 'agribusiness' advisers. Long before reaching that point, most of those same rural households had become dual-income households in an effort to stave off the inevitable, while providing for the basic necessities of clothes, food and medical care. As the rural landscape changed, so changed the community landscape.

Homes, 'in-town' and rural, became available for sale or rent at low prices. Landlords 'picked up' pieces of property and rented them out to other folks who either, were or were becoming, dispossessed in their own right. As property prices plunged, so did available tax dollars for the school systems. To put it kindly, it was not a pretty picture, pitting band programs against sports programs and foreign language programs against vocational programs. What were considered 'core' educational classes in times of prosperity became collateral damage in times of economic downturn and no-one was unaffected. In some cases, in the darkest of days and hours as the whole picture was becoming alarmingly clear, it pitted neighbor against neighbor in the fight for survival and the whole region suffered an awful loss of identity. The whole region, that is, except for two key groups: the churches and the schools.

While businessmen sifted through the remnants of the 'recession', the mission of both schools and local churches became painfully focused: to provide places and times of prayerful, deliberate hope and support for families whose entire being was turned upside down. In the communities where schools and churches responded intentionally and purposefully on behalf of the very people for which they were called and empowered to care, there hope slowly began to emerge. New leaders stood up in the rubble of past civilization and offered their skills and vision, while those whose stability in the past had made them the bedrock of reliability offered their wisdom and insight in guiding and shaping a community into a new vision. New alliances were formed, new priorities shaped the emerging realities, and, at the heart of it all, were the folks that Marissa gathered to honor last night: its teachers, administrators, and staffs . . . and their students who have become the teachers of a new generation, equipping them for a world radically changed from the one we grew up in.

The religious community has had a tremendous impact on how families recover, and though those same religious communities have had to provide ministries in an atmosphere charged with the words, 'Not enough to go around', they have nonetheless been a rock of faith and shared vision on which the affected communities have leaned upon . . . hard. Yet, in my humble opinion, it has been the teachers, the administrators, and the support staffs of the local schools who have reshaped depression into moments of possibility. It has been the hard work of local Board of Education members, often criticized, seldom recognized, that has striven to adequately compensate and secure educational professionals with a heart for the children and a vision for the world, providing the impetus for stabilizing the one place where children are shaped nearly every day: the schools.

One student at a time, our public school system has conspired to transform an ethos, guiding lives beyond the 'inevitability of being stuck' into the possibility of pursing a dream. One student at a time, our public school system has collaborated to create a learning environment that is established on the foundation of the 'giftedness of each individual'. One student at a time, our public school system has touched the face of God as the potential each child brings to the earth is celebrated and the hope of the world is given new meaning.

I am proud to be a graduate of Marissa Unit District No. 40, not because of what I have and will continue to accomplish, but because of what Marissa Unit District No. 40 continues to exemplify as the heart of its mission in education: Equipping all of the children to discover their potential, to celebrate their gifts, and to become contributing citizens of a global community. Graduates of Marissa Unit District No. 40 now, as maybe never before, emerge ready to make a difference because they have been prepared, not just to dwell in the world, but to make it a better place in which all might pursue their dreams.

My humble congratulations to those whose vocational calling and career paths have led them in becoming educators and leaders in Marissa Unit District No. 40: You are transforming the future by serving as partners in creation with the One who births a bright new tomorrow in the power of Wisdom shared. U.S. News and World Report can highlight your accomplishments, but we who are products of your dedication celebrate your ongoing influence in our lives. Thank you.

Your servant in Christ,

Pastor Don