Do our kids know we want them to have the very best?

A few weeks ago, I had the opportunity to spend time at the Pay It Forward table at the Greene County Fair, where I had many conversations about the upcoming school bond referendum.

One evening while visiting with an older Greene County resident, a young man around age 15 came up and asked me if he could vote in our Cast A Kernel. After I said he could, he put a kernel in the “yes” bucket. The woman with whom I was talking said, “Of course he wants it. He won’t have to pay for it.”

We both laughed a little about the idealism of young people who want lots of new things but don’t always think about how those new things come about.

However, after our conversation ended, I kept thinking of that young man. I began thinking about how he could end up paying for this bond. Not at age 15, of course, but if he chooses to call Greene County home, this bond will expire in 20 years — around the time he turns 35. By that time, he may have returned to his roots here in Greene County, perhaps owning or operating a business, employed here in some capacity, and potentially sending his children to his alma mater.

I began to believe even more that new and updated facilities are needed if we want to see young people return to our community to set down roots and raise their own families here.

Even if our young people do not end up calling Greene County home, don’t we want to create a hometown that they can be proud of? So that no matter where they land, whether it be in Greene County, another community in Iowa, another state, or even another country, they can look back at their community and tell people that their town cared enough about them to “Pay It Forward”?

Growing up, I was an elementary student when my hometown went through a similar conflict of continuing to repair older buildings or build new. My community ultimately chose to build, and that decision left an indelible impact on me.

I was raised an hour east of Jefferson in Nevada, and I am a product of the Nevada Community School system. When I was in 5th-6th grade, just as 5th-6th graders for many years before me had been, I was bused every day to what we affectionately just called “Milford” — an old school building located about a 15-minute ride from the rest of the school buildings in Nevada, where we literally learned in between cornfields.

In the late 1980s/early 1990s, taxpayers of the Nevada district realized that the transportation of students and the costs to upkeep and repair older buildings was no longer the best decision for the school. A bond was passed, and a 5-8 middle school was built and attached to the high school in town where it remains today. I attended seventh grade in that school the first year it was open in the fall of 1991.

I still remember the sense of pride I felt when I walked in that door.

My classmates and I knew that we were fortunate to be in a great facility. We knew that we had a responsibility to those who made it happen to treat it well and to take our education seriously. I won’t claim that it made me study more — especially when it came to math — but it did instill a great sense of pride.

My learning environment had an impact on the way I viewed school because I realized that I was no longer the only one who was part of my education. I had always been a good student, but sitting in my desk in the new middle school, I knew that my teachers and members of my community were tied into the work I was doing. It was their sacrifice that made my new school possible.

As I mentioned, the middle school addition was connected to the high school.

When I first heard that my middle school years would occur so near high school students, I will admit that I was anxious. Many individuals in the community also expressed concerns about having grades 5-8 so close to grades 9-12. The middle and high school areas were connected by a door and hallway.

I can honestly say that I do not remember one time where I saw a high school student in the middle school unless there for a specific, invited purpose. In fact, I rarely even saw the fifth and sixth grades during my seventh and eighth grade years.

While I know that the layout of the proposed project is not the same as the layout of Nevada Middle/High schools, I also know that the contact that middle and high school grades will have will be minimized. Our school staff cares greatly about our kids, and they will work to make sure any contact is minimal and positive.

I have to ask, though, why is it so horrible for occasional contact to occur between older and younger students? Of course, if the only image you have of these types of interactions are from movies that show kids shoved in lockers and held upside by older students, I can understand that it might be disconcerting.

I was probably the type of middle school student who would have been shoved into a locker, but thankfully, those exaggerated scenarios weren’t played out in my school hallways.

As a student, parent and teacher, I have seen positive interactions between older and younger students many times. I have seen how older students take on a sense of pride and conduct themselves as role models when they come to read with, teach Spanish to, or play with younger students.  

I have watched younger students light up when they see the older kids that they watch on athletic fields, or in plays, or as lifeguards at the pool come into their classrooms or walk through their halls. Contact will be minimal (if at all) between age groups, but we must also remember that these contact times can be positive as well.  

I was fortunate to live in a community that recognized that building a new school was an investment in its children, and I know that it did not come without sacrifice. Any time that taxes are raised, it is a sacrifice for property owners — those in town and in the country.

Personally, I know that in my home this property tax increase came at a time of financial strain as it was during a two-year period of unemployment for my father, at the same time that my older brother was starting college.

However, I never once heard my parents speak disparagingly about the bond referendum, or those who took a public stance regarding it. They supported it at a time when it wasn’t easy to find extra money in their budget, and they did so because they knew that investments in the lives of children are investments that have the greatest return.

I appreciate so much all members of the community who provided a quality facility for me when I was young, and even though I was in seventh grade more years ago than I’d like to admit, it has left a lasting impression.

I haven’t lived in my hometown of Nevada since my graduation from college in 2001, but I am still proud to say that’s where I’m from. The school building that played such a role in my development as a person and as a learner no longer looks the same, either. It has had additions and changes in the past 25 years, as have all of the buildings in the district.

And while God didn’t lead me to call Nevada my home now, I know that I want my children and their classmates to be able to say they are proud to have come from Greene County Schools, just as I’m proud to be from my hometown. Mine was not the only community to invest in its children; many of you could share similar stories.

But are we doing what we can to help our children develop pride in this community?

Are we helping them see that they are valuable to us? Do they know that we want them to have the very best? Do they see our behaviors, attitudes and sacrifices and want to emulate them when they are grown?

If they leave our community someday, will they realize that they have the responsibility to Pay It Forward and ensure a bright future for the generations after them?

I realize that not every graduate of Greene County Schools will end up living their entire lives in Greene County. I can’t foresee where my own two children will live, but no matter where they choose to spread their wings, I want them to be proud of the place that gave them roots.  

It may require sacrifice, but it will be worth it. Investments in children — whether they are of time, attention, resources or finances — always are.

Wendy VanderLinden resides in Jefferson with her husband, Mark, and two children.