Column Archive

2004 Archive (through August)

2005-01-05T08:47:00.000-08:00

Defending the newspaper’s work
Wednesday, January 07, 2004
On Monday, local builder Mark Marcoplos delivered a blast on these pages which deserves an answer. Marcoplos' criticism centered on a principle of community newspapering that goes too often unappreciated -- that of the paper's editorial position.
Marcoplos repeatedly refers to recent editorials by the paper and does so in a most dismissive manner, citing them as being published by "an anonymous writer." He refers to the anonymity in various ways throughout his guest column, referring repeatedly to "the anonymous writer."
It's been quite the topic on Orangepolitics.org, a Web site where many of us go to shoot the cyber-bull. In the old days of journalism, reporters and their subjects met at the local tavern after hours to get background on the stories of the day. This is nothing especially radical, except for one little factor that's getting to be a dicey issue -- anonymity. At least in the early going at the local establishment, you knew who you were talking to.
Thanks to the technology of the day, you can post whatever you'd like to the Web site and remain anonymous if you choose. You can also post your name, your e-mail address or whatever you want for personal information. And of course, I can post your information attached to my comments if I want -- of course, there's the rub. While there is distinct value in leaving the "who says so" out of a discussion on issues, there's the matter of accountability to be considered.
And that's where local newspapers hold to an old standard for the benefit of public accountability. While the editors of this and other papers will withhold your name from print if you want of need them to, they'll usually require that you disclose your identity to them before they'll publish your letter. The reader, therefore, knows that a trusted editor has verified that submissions are traceable, especially if they are accusatory.
So why does the paper issue its own opinions without attribution every day? First, it's not really so mysterious. The editorial staff is ultimately responsible. Their names are on the masthead.
Likewise, it's not so mysterious when you think of the issues that a newspaper's staff must cover. By definition, the stories that appear are among the most controversial in the community, so it's important that reporters and editors involved in reporting stay (as individuals) at arm's length from the issues.
But the community rightly expects that those who have covered the issues extensively offer some analysis of the bigger picture. In most stories, there's more to it than who said what for the record. And it's often an important protection for the editorial board to be able to express a consensus view of the organization without attributing that position to a single person.
The civil rights movement and debates that went on through this community's editorial pages during those years is a classic example. Journalism professor Jim Shumaker said years ago that he was at war with his bosses constantly about editorial positions that his paper (then The Chapel Hill Weekly) was taking in favor of desegregating schools and public accommodations.
"Shu" was sorely tempted to quit on a regular basis, he said, but he didn't because he felt he was a voice in the wilderness, hoping to be heard. Though he looked back with some regret that he hadn't done more, Shumaker did plenty, especially in the area of teaching aspiring reporters their craft at the UNC School of Journalism.
When covering and editorializing on the terror perpetrated by the Ku Klux Klan, the cloak of anonymity was equally necessary to get readers to focus on the position being taken and not who was taking it or why. This represents an important and valuable tradition in daily journalism, often referred to as "history on the fly."
That said, I've squabbled with management at The Herald-Sun once or twice myself as has every columnist or reporter with the paper. The Chapel Hill Herald's reporting staff and management certainly doesn't need me as its defender, but I offer these insights regardless:
The people who put this paper out every day (missing only one issue since the paper's creation over 15 years ago... and that due to the 2000 blizzard) do the best they can with the resources available. Their work is long on hours and short on pay. (Shumaker once told a class of journalism students that our profession was one of the few that could make teaching appear lucrative.)
And they do all this knowing that every single day there's going to be something in the edition they're working on that is not quite right. If they waited until it was, they wouldn't produce a daily newspaper. It would be a pamphlet, with a legal disclosure longer than any story.
Speaking for myself and strictly as a reader, I'm glad they keep trying to produce an accurate daily record of what the heck is going on around town.

Say yes to International Baccalaureate
Wednesday, January 14, 2004
The Orange County Schools are at present going through the process of establishing an International Baccalaureate program at Cedar Ridge High School. In a word -- hooray!
The two-year program is academically very rigorous and, like honors curriculum, is self-selecting. As my son would probably put it, "You gotta want it." Students explore the core curriculum of a classical education and do so in greater depth than public school standards would require.
They are expected, for example, to devote about 40 hours to their IB essay project. This is an extended essay of 4,000 words that should investigate a topic of special interest to the student and should display independent research, analysis and writing skill.
There is music and art in the IB program. The creative areas are intended to foster a sophisticated understanding of the cooperative nature of collaborating with other people in a creative endeavor.
There is the study of societies other than our own. There are, of course, mathematics and the traditional sciences. Students are expected to learn a foreign language.
But the most important thing that the IB program offers is an international standard of excellence against which student work is evaluated.
Among the biggest shortcomings of North Carolina's education system is the state's aversion to nationally (and internationally) standardized testing. When North Carolina's Department of Public Instruction decided many years ago that our state's students would be compared only to each other, our children's educational foundation was seriously injured. Introducing the IB program at Cedar Ridge will go a long way to re-establishing credibility in the area of what excellence means to Orange County Schools.
Grades are not given on a bell curve in the IB program, for example. Students are given top grades because they've demonstrated a mastery of knowledge, not because of a relative position in the class.
Of all the sparks that have flown in the past year over the possibility of merging Orange County Schools with those of Chapel Hill-Carrboro, virtually no argument has ever been offered against the institution of an IB program in the county district.
That's right, there's no controversy over it. It's something that both districts recognize as an excellent program with a proven record of excellent results. That alone is exciting enough to pause for a moment of silent appreciation.
In fact, there's been some real excitement among merger proponents I've talked to that a merger might even offer enough numbers of students interested to establish an IB high school serving both districts.
And frankly, that seems like a really terrific idea that could put all the promise of cooperation between the districts to a practical application test. Since it's an opt-in program, there'd be no complaints about redistricting or busing. Indeed, many of the students could probably drive themselves, as they would all be juniors and seniors.
Regardless of all that potential, the fact remains that adding an IB program at Cedar Ridge is going to benefit that school's academic reputation significantly. The school will be looking, no doubt, for an estimate of how many kids are interested in enrolling for next year and what questions their parents might have about the program. Next fall may seem far away, but it will be along before you know it.
So if your child is a sophomore at Cedar Ridge and, like mine, is very interested in the IB program, now's the time to let the school know. Cedar Ridge held an information meeting Monday evening, but these things almost always hit a time when at least some interested parties cannot attend. Don't be deterred if you missed it.
Coming up next month, we'll see if the IB committee wants us. They'll come, they'll visit, they'll quiz. They're going to directly verify that Cedar Ridge's program plans meet a standard -- the IB standard. If we fail, we'll have to try again.
But as Lady Macbeth would say, "Screw your courage to the sticking place and we'll not fail." OK, she was planning a murder, but the point is, if Orange County parents want an excellent high school education for their kids, this is a golden opportunity to secure it.
All you have to do is say "yes."

A life well-lived and Michael Jackson
Wednesday, January 21, 2004

The news is often filled with bizarre contradictions, and sometimes just the bizarre.
Last week, accused felon Michael Jackson demonstrated in vivid detail the contempt he holds for the rule of law, the safety and welfare of others and the unmistakable absence of unselfishness or humility in his character.
To wit, he arrived at his arraignment 20 minutes late, an inexcusable stunt that one suspects would have landed similarly accused child molesters in a cell for contempt.
Jackson's attorney said he was late because of the crush of fans surrounding the California courthouse, but his behavior after the hearing made clear this was not the case.
He was late because he's arrogant and nearly drowning in his own ego gratification with no one close to him able to tell him "no" -- about anything.
They couldn't say "no" to all the plastic surgery or making obviously false claims of abuse by the police during his arrest. He claimed his shoulder was dislocated when he was handcuffed, yet he freely waved to fans upon leaving the courthouse that day.
They couldn't say "no" to any of those things, so they could never stop him from hopping up onto his car to dance after his hearing last week. Let the fans rock the car and surge past any fences constructed for public safety, "Jackson is an entertainer," the lawyer explained.
Right. And that's why when a child has made this accusation, it's important to avoid being humble and serious. Image is everything.
I think the next time someone cuts me off in traffic I'll roll down the window, flip him the internationally recognized salute and call him "an entertainer."
Contrast that utterly garish circus with the quiet end here in Chapel Hill to a life lived with more class and dignity than Michael Jackson has any hope to ever acquire.
I recently read with awe the inspirational obituary of Mrs. Frances Schoenbach, who passed away on Dec. 17, as the media reported on the Wright Flyer skidding into a mud puddle.
Mrs. Schoenbach's passing didn't make the news that day, but it should have. What a remarkable life she conducted, according to her obituary, which was one of the most eloquent I've ever read.
The summation said that Mrs. Schoenbach graduated first in her class from Boston University Law School in 1937, among the first women ever to do so. She was associate editor-in-chief of the Law Review and landed a job with a prominent New York City lawyer.
She put aside her career, however, to support her husband's military service in World War II. Widowed at 37, she raised her three children, remaining at home.
According to her obituary, Mrs. Schoenbach was a stay-at-home mom until her youngest child was in high school. She did this mainly by carefully managing her husband's life insurance death benefit.
This must have been one of the areas in which her undergraduate math degree (with honors) from Barnard College really came in handy.
Once her children were grown, Mrs. Schoenbach worked teaching mathematics in public schools, as a high school guidance counselor and as a mental health legal consultant. At 59, the obituary says, she began working as an attorney for the Appellate Division of the New York State Supreme Court and continued there until her retirement 11 years later.
Then she moved to Chapel Hill to be near her family here.
And that brings me to the contrast between this lovely lady, who I'm willing to bet did not consider herself to be a heroic person and, well, the other guy. I just can't stand the idea of putting them into the same sentence.
There's a place for entertainers in this world.
Mrs. Schoenbach would undoubtedly have agreed that the arts are sometimes what stands between us and the breakdown of civilization. But when I think of kids looking up to someone, finding a trustworthy soul whose life has been one to admire, remember and emulate, I could not possibly attribute those descriptors to a man whose talented youth and young adulthood showed such immense promise. His adult life is a circus carnival of sick self-indulgence and, allegedly, a trail of damaged children.
Instead, I would direct boys and girls alike to Mrs. Schoenbach's life as one that exemplified the value of sustained high achievement without the excuse of "victimhood" and the unselfishness of genuinely putting children first, something Jack-o couldn't figure out with all the lawyers in the world.
Our community is so much the poorer for her loss.
Mrs. Schoenbach's family requests that memorial donations be sent to The Medical Foundation of North Carolina and WCPE radio.

The pot, the kettle and pass the nachos
Wednesday, January 28, 2004
The other day I was watching a reality TV program (we used to call it the "news") and there came a story that seemed harmless enough, but was not.
The report opened with pictures of a caring school nurse walking down the hallway with an elementary age boy, heading for the school's health office. He hopped onto the scale to have his height and weight measured, then he left to return to class.
The nurse at that school (not a local school) is going to measure every kid in her school in this same way this school year. She will send home a note to the parents of kids whose Body Mass Index, or BMI, indicates that they are in a so-called higher risk category as indicated by the calculation. I say "so-called" because according to the BMI, Tom Cruise and the governor of California are overweight.
The nurse filled in the child's name and BMI score on a form, then folded the form in half, wrote the child's name on the outside and dropped it into a stack of similar notes. These will go home with the children in their book bags, or as I like to call it, the abyss.
The note was reported to contain some health referral information regarding the need for better diet and exercise.
Now, if there were health insurance involved here, this rather innocent-looking screening would break the law in several ways. That little form being sent home, for example, is a health record, not a notice of a PTA meeting. The nurse, I'm willing to bet, is perhaps conducting this study (thought to be noninvasive) without parental consent, also illegal.
When my children have been invited by the public school system to participate in a screening, they come home with permission forms, in advance. That's completely appropriate.
On a practical level, there's no stigma involved for doing things that way either. Every kid who participates in the screening gets a report (in a sealed envelope) of its results, regardless of what they are, just like I get a letter from my doctor with my blood test results.
But in this case, only children with a BMI that places them in the overweight category will get a letter. As a practical matter, in elementary and middle schools, that means that the teacher is in the unenviable position of handing out the "fatty" letters. Every kid will know who got one and the teasing will begin in earnest.
The privacy issues here are obvious, but I thought I'd offer my opinion about what that letter really should say about the root problem. Here's my form letter:
Dear Parent:
Your child, ________, was weighed and measured today and we have found that (s)he is overweight. As you are probably aware, obesity has reached crisis proportions in the good old USA. There are many indicators that intervention is needed.
Over the years, we in the public schools have been asked to solve, address or otherwise intervene with an impressive array of our society's ills. So here's what we've decided to do about the bursting waistlines of the children in our care.
There's no nutritional value in soda pop, only monetary value in the business of selling it, so we're going to get rid of the soda machines at our school. If teachers or students want to bring their own soda here, that's no problem. We're just not selling it on the premises any longer.
Your kids can say goodbye, too, to those fat-dripping nachos that many of them have for lunch instead of what might pass for a balanced meal. Gone, too, will be the individually packaged bags of chips and junk food snacks that we've passed off as "a la carte" items in the cafeteria. Again, if you want to send these items to school with your child, that's your right. But when kids get a hot lunch at school, parents should expect that they're getting something more than trans fats and carbs. Since the introduction of ketchup as a school lunch vegetable, this has not been the case. Hence, we've been unnamed conspirators in this problem, all for the sake of saving some short-term dollars.
We're done with that. We're hiring new physical education teachers for each school because we're no longer willing to tolerate the near-total disappearance of physical activity as an integral part of a healthy, vibrant educational process. We refuse to teach children that learning Spanish or algebra comes at the expense of their health. We plan to march on this platform to every budget meeting at every level of government to drive home this point. We hope to see you there.

Let’s go Tar Heels! Beat Dook
Wednesday, February 04, 2004
Thursday, the Dean E. Smith Center will rock once again with the hope that our beloved Heels can defeat "Dook" in the ramp-up to March Madness. We love our round ball in Chapel Hill, there can be no doubt.
If you've received an e-mail from me in the past couple of weeks, you've seen a "Beat Dook on February 5" tagline at the bottom, just a reminder that business is business, but being a Carolina alumna goes beyond the bottom line.
Of course, I have many friends who are Dookies and they tolerate me as I do them. Around this time of year, we find great enjoyment in the rivalry, which is often heralded as among the greatest in the country.
Carolina fever has struck the campus again. This is not the virus that had everyone running for the bathroom last week (and that one was a dandy) and not that oh-so-vicious computer worm that struck my business last week (I was getting 500 e-mails per hour at one point).
No, this is the welcome glow of our rampant, half-crazed fans, cheering on the return to greatness of our basketball program.
There are some in our area who believe that this area of university life gets too much attention and far too much money.
I am not among them.
To be frank, many of the folks I'm thinking of here are very hard-working, well-meaning, dedicated people who want to help those in need. They'd like to see more money for after-school programs and those things that benefit youth in need. So would I.
For example, there's the popular argument of how the university should spend more money on professors of (pick your favorites) history, the arts, English, math and so on, rather than paying millions to athletic coaches.
That's something of a false choice, though, isn't it? Don't you have to look at enrollment, at alumni dollars and at the national profile of the university to make that larger decision?
When I attended the university, the journalism school was housed in Howell Hall. It is a charming building and the J-School's being based there fostered a feeling of intimacy among its students. We were one little building on a great big campus; we felt special and yes, I'll say it, exclusive.
The journalism school had (and continues to enjoy) a distinctive national reputation for excellence. It did not (and does not) crank out boilerplate graduates.
But when the alumni start making noise about wanting more and better facilities for the school, the university responds. The move to Carroll Hall was not one that I was especially crazy about, to be quite honest. I felt very nostalgic about Howell Hall. I enjoyed some awfully good and life-changing years there.
My nostalgia came to a screeching I-am-so-over-it halt when I attended my first workshop in Carroll Hall a couple of years ago. It was the first time that I'd taken a continuing education workshop at the journalism school since my graduation.
I'd been in Carroll Hall before, but it was for an economics course back then. Now it is mass communications central, and when I walked through the doors, I was astonished at how much at home I felt. The classroom where I enjoyed my one-day workshop was something we could only have dreamed about back in Howell Hall. The replica of Charles Kuralt's New York office nearly brought tears to my eyes.
When alumni return to campus for purposes such as this, they are inclined to spend money, both on the occasion of the visit and subsequently when solicited for donations. This, of course, benefits the student population.
And this brings me back to the game that we're all looking so forward to Thursday evening. We love to come back home to go to games (if you have tickets for Carolina-Dook you can't use, I'm in the book). We love the reminder of consistency that sports can give us. Although society changes, these games are held harmless ... unless you loved the four corners.
The games are a time capsule that remind us of our own joyful days in college and the need to sustain the quality of that experience for those who follow us. Can our university improve itself? Of course it can -- that's in the nature of education itself.
We should always seek to improve, but first, let's put the blue dress on those devils and send them back to Durham with a new "L" in their bright shiny record atop the nation's rankings. Go Heels. Beat Dook.

School response to book issue right on
Wednesday, February 18, 2004
Too seldom comes the opportunity to applaud a school or district for hitting a home run right out of the park, but last week, C.W. Stanford and the Orange County Schools did just that.
A Stanford student, Garvey Jackson (who is black), took it upon himself to protest the reading in class of the Pulitzer Prize-winning novel, "To Kill a Mockingbird," based on its use of the infamous n- word. That word is also used frequently in Alice Walker's "The Color Purple" and Alex Haley's "Roots." Both are also widely viewed as classics in American literature.
That word, without question, remains among the most powerful and incendiary in our language. That's why it struck me that although Jackson's class read the book earlier this school year, his offense didn't really find its voice until February, Black History Month. The Jackson family would honor black history by censoring it -- by reading nicer, sweeter material.
Throughout the civil rights movement, newspapers had to tell the story of lynchings, church burnings and racial epithets being burned into the bodies of innocent blacks. You can't explain murder without talking about killing someone.
And if you were Harper Lee, growing up in the South and seeing the raw, rampant injustice of racism from a white perspective, you wouldn't be able to tell a story about redemption and hope without displaying the damage and murder of innocence first.
As indicated by school officials in Sunday's Chapel Hill Herald story, the district will investigate any formal protest to a book being taught, but first it must have the protest in hand.
And there's the rub.
The Jacksons have not taken the trouble to follow this procedure. They have irresponsibly implied that the district is somehow "still teaching" offensive material.
Rita Gonzalez-Jackson, Garvey's mother, told The Chapel Hill Herald that she was offended that, "It's 2004 and this is still being read in the schools?"
The Jacksons seem to feel that it's their task to "educate the community," hold a mock funeral for the book and perhaps, eventually, file a formal protest with the school district.
So, perhaps as a last resort, they might consider following the district's simple, well-explained, fair procedure that's been in place for years.
While the Jacksons are educating the community on racist language, why aren't they educating themselves about due process?
That, after all, is what those sit-ins in the civil rights movement were about.
Martin Luther King Jr. did not go to jail to protest being offended.
He put his life on the line and eventually lost it to protest violations of basic human rights, such as the denial of due process and equal protection under the law.
But equal protection and fairness are not what is in question for the Jacksons.
It is the question of being offended, not unlike so many were during the other infamous Jackson publicity stunt within the Super Bowl's half time show.
In all that fuss, one thing offended me the most -- that no one seemed bothered by Kid Rock wearing an American flag as a poncho, that there was no shock or offense by the many mock back-door sex acts on stage.
No, it was the millisecond display of one woman's breast -- something beautiful -- that somehow made the event "disgusting" and launched a federal investigation.
Right up to that point, it was only a matter of taste, the self-appointed experts said, and about family entertainment.
And in the days that followed, Dan Rather teased the story multiple times throughout his evening news broadcast before running an "update" of the so-called embarrassing episode.
And throughout both stories, we need to be sure we spell Jackson correctly in all the coverage. Because, after all, isn't that the only goal?

Sex and the city (and the county)
Wednesday, February 25, 2004
In case you've been under a rock for the past week or two, you're probably aware that the HBO series "Sex and the City" has just drawn to a close after a successful six-year run.
The series' conclusion, reuniting lead character Carrie Bradshaw with her on-again, off-again beau "Mr. Big," shouldn't be a shock to those who read the book. The very last sentence read, "Carrie and Mr. Big are still together today."
No disrespect to Candi Bushnell, my high school classmate and author of the vapid novel, but the book was merely a conceptual basis for the show. Bushnell never wrote a script or appeared on the show as far as I know. The show's quality and that of its characters was many levels above the book.
Darren Star, the series creator and the real genius behind the success story here, could have wrapped it up with all the women moving to San Francisco and getting hitched if he'd wanted to. It's HBO, after all.
Back to the book for a moment. I must confess that despite my acquaintance with the author years ago, I'd not heard of it until the show was a smash hit and I was among its legions of devoted fans. As a mature married woman, I appreciated its frank, funny look at sex and women's friendships. The simple truth is, yes, we do think about sex plenty and yes, again, we do talk about it with our friends.
And when we are very, very lucky and blessed in this life, we have friends like Carrie Bradshaw does, with whom we can talk about absolutely anything and get a real opinion, a lot of laughs and the loving support that only your best friends can give you.
For many women, talking about intimate things forms a bond that can carry them through devastating loss, hardship, fear and self-doubt. We like to talk through our stuff. Sometimes, we like to laugh about things that make us blush ... get silly and be embarrassed, but it's usually because we're trying to understand something or someone better. This is how we build relationships.
This is why "Sex and the City" was a wonderful breakthrough on American television and one that the schools should take a lesson from.
North Carolina's standard course of study describes three categories of sex education.
They are "(i) a program that pertains to or is intended to impart information or promote discussion or understanding in regard to the prevention of sexually-transmitted diseases, including Acquired Immune Deficiency Syndrome (AIDS), or to the avoidance of out-of-wedlock pregnancy,
(ii) an abstinence until marriage program,
or (iii) a comprehensive sex education program, whether developed by the State or by the local board of education."
Unlike some nearby communities, our districts employ the more comprehensive approach, which conveys to students that abstinence is the surest way to be safe and healthy, but also how to acquire, choose among or properly use birth control devices. Abstinence-only programs typically prohibit teachers from directly and specifically answering questions from students who pointedly ask for such information.
And what an absurd approach such a gag order represents. Obviously cooked up in a political back room and not a real-world classroom, this hypocritical position was best outed by comedy writer Al Franken, who started a campaign to support abstinence-only sex-ed.
That's right -- support it. Well, he tried to anyway. Franken is a proud Democrat, but he's also a father and wants his kids to be safe and healthy as we all do.
He thought the very best and most direct way to influence kids to abstain from having sex until marriage was through exposing them to great role models, so he wrote letters to several prominent individuals asking them to make motivational speeches at high schools all over the United States explaining how remaining a virgin until marriage had really helped their lives, both physically and spiritually.
But Attorney General Ashcroft, President Bush, Vice-President Cheney, Rush Limbaugh and the many others he solicited refused the invitation.
Disappointing.
So our schools are better than most because they at least pass the stink test in avoiding that particular hypocrisy. We'll just have to hope that our kids aren't spending too much time alone with kids from Wake County who are being told that all they need to know about sex is not to engage in it until they are married -- to a member of the opposite sex, of course.
Still, I wonder how much frank, funny, informational talk about social pressure and expectations can go on in the public school classroom. Is there a better way?

Blue flu weekend a grand tradition
Wednesday, March 17, 2004
I guess it's our first fight. I have a disagreement with Roy Williams about the ACC Tournament.
In my first few years in North Carolina, I learned quickly that one either follows college basketball or one has no one to talk to at work for several months of the year. Wishing to fit in, I gave the game a chance and I've never looked back. Long before I was ever a student there, I became a Carolina fan. It was my affection for public education that drew me to UNC and has kept me there, even last year when the going was tough.
This past week and weekend was not only the weekend of face paint and a nonproductive Friday afternoon for the Triangle, it was the swan song for the nine-team ACC.
Duke's coach (whatever his name is) tagged it "Bloody Friday" and also said quite wistfully that if you love the ACC then you'd better really drink it all in on Friday. The conference is so tough, so tight this year, he said, that these will be four of the greatest college basketball games you'll see all year. And next year, it all changes with the expansion of the conference.
Coach K isn't wrong about everything and I found myself nodding with agreement. Just as we look back now to the days before Florida State joined the conference, these will be the good ol' days soon.
But Roy Williams made a comment that seemed to me to be unduly cynical. He said that the conference championship tournament doesn't have the meaning it once did -- that the ACC invented this event and now everyone's got one. Somehow, said Roy, this makes ours less special.
Maybe it's all about the money, said Williams, but it's not all that helpful in preparing for the NCAA championship. He seemed to suggest, in fact, that it almost gets in the way.
I know that Williams has had a pretty good year, but, is he ... uh ... nuts? I can't imagine how he could look at the ride Maryland had in that championship game on Sunday and see anything but the added bonus of tournament toughness, playing a great rival under terrific pressure and, yes, all those warm bodies in all those seats.
And let's just talk about the money for a minute. When last I checked, you could buy two tickets to the NCAA championship game for almost the exact price of one ticket to the ACC championship game. I think that speaks volumes for the conference's prestige and fan support. Those warm bodies in all those seats are paying Roy's salary, right?
And tomorrow, the big dance commences. Any of the ACC teams that have played so strong, so hard and with such passion this year could see their season come to a screeching halt in round one -- any of them.
Admittedly, the addition of Virginia Tech and Miami will tend to round out the football side of the conference more than the basketball programs, but they won't be weak for long when they have these powerhouses to play with during the years to come.
As I left University Mall on Friday, I saw a Chapel Hill Transit bus turning down Estes Drive. The "ticker" above the windshield listed the upcoming stops and at the end of the cycle said, "Go Heels, beat Georgia Tech."
I chuckled when I saw it. Too often we take for granted this common love we all have for our college sports and friendly rivalry with the little school in the next town. You can strike up a conversation with virtually anyone, anywhere in this area at this time of year on this topic.
Even among my misguided friends who graduated from the mayonnaise university in Durham, I happily acknowledge how great their fans are and how much they need air conditioning in their basketball arena. Maybe they should pass the collection plate at their next reunion.
All of these things give our larger community a source of pride and a national stage that none of us should take for granted -- not even Roy.
Coach Williams will have to make it up to us (for those comments) somehow. I recommend a big trophy, to be delivered later in the month.

Marriage should be a civil right for all
Wednesday, March 03, 2004
Dearly beloved, we are gathered here on this day to ponder the question of marriage and its value in our society. Our president has requested a civil debate, one point on which we agree. But we also need a lot of it, at every level of governance -- local, state and federal.
The truth will be revealed here: I'm an old-fashioned girl with some remarkably traditional values in some areas. Lately, when I see what's passing for commitment and "marriage" I just groan.
By way of disclosure, my own story:
I called my father one day in the summer of 1977 and told him I was getting married. His response was simple. He was against it.
"What do you want to do that for?" he demanded. He wasn't alone. My mother and my fiancé's parents asked the same thing. They were flatly against our tying the knot and it was mostly for one reason: I was 19 and they were sure it would end badly. My parents had just divorced, so they had a good idea of what a bad experience the end of a marriage was. Understandably, they wanted to spare me that.
We spared them the wedding, tying the knot with a local justice of the peace on a Wednesday night after work. A few weeks ago, we celebrated our 26th anniversary. I missed out on the dream wedding but got a good deal on a terrific marriage. No complaints here.
Over the years, we've made choices as a couple for the benefit of our family. I forfeited some earning power to have my children while I was young and stay home with them when they were very young. These were good choices.
Now comes the easy part of our marriage. We know each other very well. We have many years of shared experience to draw on. We've seen far more "better" than "worse."
So when the country is thrown into a culture war debate that swirls around the value of traditional marriage, I find myself right smack in the middle of all those so-called traditional values. I'm the one who is supposed to feel "protected" by the proposed amendment to the Constitution that would ban gay marriage.
Yet I don't want that particular protection. Here's what I'd prefer.
I'd rather my national leaders actually have enough familiarity with the Constitution to appreciate that it is a document never used to remove the rights of Americans. Rather, it was always intended to secure those rights.
I'd rather politicians of any party who want to shake their fists at the collective contempt our modern society has for marriage first make a call to Britney Spears, who gets a marriage and annulment in just a day or two for the benefit of publicity. When they're done with her, perhaps a sit-down with Larry King or Jennifer Lopez would be a good idea.
When I heard Howard Dean interviewed about this many months ago, he took out his 10-foot pole and said he wasn't about to get into trying to define what marriage was. "That's up to the church," he said.
He's wrong for about 10 reasons, but the simplest is that though you might get married in church, you must have a marriage license issued by the state. That means this is a state government issue. Period.
Our own senator-cum-presidential candidate, John Edwards, is doing a torturous two-step trying to avoid making a pro-gay marriage statement. At the same time, he's a pretty shrewd lawyer and has probably figured out this tectonic shift is going to happen and it's going to be this summer, after the state of Massachusetts begins issuing marriage licenses to gay couples.
When a test case races to the Supreme Court and is turned away for lack of jurisdiction, the floodgates will open -- in the fall of an election year. This will be a tricky business here in the South where Edwards is trying to stake out his winning ways.
It is up to the state of North Carolina to decide what it will sanction as marriage, which can easily be defined as an institution of lifetime partnership between two adults for the legal and social benefit of establishing a family, even if that family turns out to be just those two people and their parakeet.
To insist the two people in a marriage must be capable of producing their own children by natural means is to ignore the pain of infertility many couples face, to ignore the desire for companionship and legal security seniors are seeking when they marry later in life and to ignore the simple choice some couples make to get married and not have children -- just like Pat Buchanan and his wife.
And at the risk of sounding like a real conservative, none of that is the state's beeswax anyway. The state's interest is in establishing and supporting stable families and that's going to add up to Hallmark coming up with congratulatory cards for Mr. & Mr. John Q. Public's wedding very soon.
It's about time.

The invisible Orange job economy
Wednesday, March 10, 2004
According to the Economic Development Commission, Orange County needs a hip replacement.
That's one of the more catchy lines from Tuesday's State of the Local Economy breakfast, well-attended by Orange County business owners and elected leaders.
Within its strategic plan update, the "Quality of Place" subcommittee reported on strategies for maintaining and improving Orange county as a workplace. One of those was to "promote hipness by marketing our eclectic people and places."
The strategy fits right into a meeting that found the introduction of Carrboro's elected leadership as "the Board of Alderbeings." You just can't make this stuff up.
Though I've been a business owner for several years, I've not attended this event previously. My loss. Thanks to the generosity of the EDC's staff, I was able to swindle two seats at the commission's table...right next to a member of its board of directors, Laura Baldwin.
We gabbed and networked and did all those women-owned business things (Baldwin is the owner of Hillsborough's Reba & Roses, where the garden is art). We talked about juggling and being creative in running our own shops.
Unlike Baldwin's business, mine is somewhat invisible in the scheme of measuring the county's economic development, yet it fits into an odd and largely unexplored category of Orange county businesses. Like many companies in our community, my business has no employees.
I do have people who work for me, but they are independent contractors, a business model that has worked very well for me over the years. I can hire specialized workers for individual projects only as needed. There's almost no down side to this, except for their availability and reliability, which has yet to be a problem.
This is a growing and somewhat hidden part of our economy, I believe. My business activity cannot be traced, for example, through the traditional means of who has a business license in the county or a corporation. I have neither.
Because I work in Web development, the first amendment prohibits the government from requiring me to have a license. I operate as a sole proprietorship, so there's no separate corporation whose activities the commission can track through public records.
And the tricky part is that small businesses like mine are generating some major growth in the local economy and that of the state and nation. The EDC's numbers indicate that businesses with four or less employees grew by 4.5 percent from 1998-2002. In businesses with five to nine employees, the rate was 5.8 percent. The rate was more than double that for companies with 10-19 staffers.
Ten to 19 people...to me that's a huge company, but to economists it's the little engine that could. And collectively, companies that employ fewer than 20 people comprise the guts of our country's economic engine.
The EDC, for its part, is working hard to figure out how to reach out to us and understand what we're doing, what we need and how to make sure we don't run out of gas and oil. It's hard to train a workforce when what the workers will be doing is a mystery.
No one died and left me as spokesperson for this category of businesses, but I can offer some small insight into the problems we covered at the table over scrambled eggs and bacon.
We need resources available during off hours. It would be awfully cool if the county could cajole the state to give us one Saturday a month where we could make appointments to get our driver's license renewed without missing a half-day of work. That's very expensive when you're running the store. This concept could and should be applied to any county or city service as well.
How about a trade show designed to showcase businesses based in Orange county with fewer than 20 employees? Hold it during the spring so it could serve, too, as a job fair for emerging high school and college graduates or those students looking for summer internships.
Set up a small business Web blog to facilitate conversations among small business owners during their off-hours. Tell you what...that's such a good idea, I've done it already. Visit orangesmallbiz.blogspot.com for details. There's no money involved -- just conversation.
This brings me to the common ground that tends to separate little engines that could and great big locomotives that might or might not. We do. We have to hurry up and get on it with it because there's precious little time to plan, to ponder and to wring our hands at the prospect of failure.
Information is power, small business owners, so let's escape the shadow of anonymity and make ourselves heard.

Hats in the ring, the season begins
Wednesday, March 24, 2004
As evidenced by the number of letters to the editor on her behalf, Valerie Foushee will be offering a full-court press in her effort to land a seat on the Board of County Commissioners. Foushee, it would seem, is running on a no-merger platform, openly challenging long-time Commissioner Moses Carey for his seat on that divisive issue.
While Foushee's supporters are filling the editorial pages with support letters, they offer dreamy perspectives about Foushee's being "well-versed in education" and her thoughtful, even-handed manner of listening. "It's time for commissioners with open minds," wrote one supporter.
But does Foushee have an open mind about merging the school districts? Or is her candidacy built on opposing that outcome?
As the old joke goes, denial may have its origin in Egypt, but it flows right down the middle of Franklin Street when it comes to the issue of school merger -- regarding both its necessity and its mythological implications.
Anti-merger advocates threaten everything from excessively long bus rides and the loss of neighborhood schools to a simple lack of educational quality for having blended the city mice with those from the county. Largely baseless and fear-driven, it works well on nervous parents who want their kids to go to prestigious colleges.
But the real campaign issue will be whether Foushee makes substantive promises about how (without merger) she will solve the problems of overcrowding that Chapel Hill-Carrboro schools are facing.
Well, "facing" may be the wrong word considering that river problem I mentioned earlier. Last week, the city school board had to confront the central problem that drives the need for merger: They're out of land.
Adding more and more trailers, an undesirable short-term solution that no one likes, will allow Scroggs and other schools to limp along for a short while. But even those closely involved admit they just can't think right now about what should happened in five years; they're up to their necks in dealing with today and tomorrow and where to put all these kids.
So with Chapel Hill-Carrboro built out and a growing population, Foushee needs to outline where she will plan to educate these children and those in the Orange County district if she is running on a "Read my lips -- no school merger" platform. As a commissioner, she may get elected on the emotion and fear of opposing merger, but as a commissioner she must equally serve all the children of the county, meeting all those facility needs.
But before she crafts this miracle plan that no one else has thought of, Foushee has some housekeeping to take care of on the ethical front. She has a tardiness problem of her own for which she owes taxpayers an explanation.
That's right, Foushee's property taxes and those on her automobiles have been persistently late, though I'm relieved to report that at least they're paid.
On her home Foushee paid her 2002 taxes on March 7, 2003 -- over two months after they were legally due.
Her 2003 taxes trickled in on Feb. 20 of this year, over a month and a half late.
Taxes on her cars, according to county records, have been paid late, with one nearly three months late this year.
I asked County Finance Director Ken Chavious what would happen if, hypothetically, every citizen behaved this way.
If we all took so lax an approach to our legal obligation to pay our taxes on time, the government would have cash flow problems, emergency services could be affected and, of course, the government would be forced to borrow money to cover those needs.
Of course, if county employees are late in paying their taxes, Chavious pointed out, their wages are promptly garnisheed. If every single taxpayer just decided to pay a month late, "the county would enjoy a windfall of penalties and interest," Chavious said with a chuckle. Not a fund-raising plan to look for in tomorrow's headlines.
Before the letters start flowing, let me be clear about something ... if Foushee were a few days late once or twice, I wouldn't mention any of this because that isn't a persistent pattern.
But according to the county's records, she has only once been on time in paying her taxes. Perhaps she has a great explanation for that. Perhaps her bank failed to send in her escrow payments, for example. If so, we all need to hear it before the July primary.

King’s rights don’t trump neighbors’
Wednesday, March 31, 2004
When Judge Joe Buckner told junk man Hoyle King last November that the county could and would take some of his junk cars and trucks to pay for the construction of a fence around his property, King was offended.
"I worked hard for them," he reportedly said. "I don't think that would be right."
This was when the good Judge Buckner admonished King to clear the right of way along Slaughter Road and get a fence constructed all the way around his property by Nov. 21.
If he didn't comply, Buckner promised, the county would do it for him and send him the bill.
I drove past the property on Monday. Although there is a stockade fence along the property's frontage on U.S. 70, it is by no means constructed all the way around the property and does absolutely nothing to secure the site in any way.
That moist sensation in Judge Buckner's eye is not caused by tears of joyful satisfaction. That's a country boy's honker, hurled right into the face of the county government in general and the court's order, specifically.
Hoyle King's property is much, much more than a nuisance and embarrassment to his neighbors. It is not merely evidence of an old man who collects too many things. It is a public safety hazard on a most serious scale -- a ticking bomb waiting to go off.
Last week, I watched the public hearings related to the Sept. 11 terrorism attacks.
Over and over I heard the frustration of both the questioners and the witnesses that so many details simply weren't given the focus and priority that were needed to prevent the tragedy that the country suffered on that terrible day.
Our government, as the cliché goes, simply could not "connect the dots" to foresee that the network of zealots who had come after us repeatedly would not only do so again, but would be successful beyond their wildest dreams.
Of the witnesses, Richard Clarke, the now-famously former Bush administration security adviser, has criticized the administration for wrongly shifting its focus away from terrorism and toward Iraq in the period leading up to and following the attacks.
History will show whether or not that's the case. The Bush White House did, in fact, let our country down. We were attacked. Thousands died. These aren't theories, they are casualties.
Clarke said in his testimony that our country "needs bodybags" before making a major policy shift in the area of national security. This may be a dramatic way of putting it, but it's hardly a new idea. When you want a new traffic light, the Department of Transportation wants to know if anyone's been killed yet at the intersection.
And this brings me back to King and his toxic waste dump. I wrote on these pages last year that if this site is not cleaned up or secured, there is bound to be someone injured or worse. These are not complicated "dots" that require the CIA to "connect." You can view King's mess via the county's GIS system on the Internet. Yes, it's so massive that it's viewable from space.
Will it take the death or serious injury of a child on that site to shake loose the powers that be to at least secure that site?
Do King's rights to abuse his land really extend into the soil? If he can keep all those cars (there surely are hundreds of them) likely with gas and oil in some of them and leaking batteries to boot on his residential land, then surely it will be OK if I want to start a chemical plant in my garage, right?
If the county cannot or will not take control of this land in the interest of public safety, I would dearly love to know if and when they ever would do so.
Are we as thick-headed as the feds?
Must we have some body bags lined up along U.S. 70 before we are empowered to clean up a toxic dumpsite?
And let's be clear -- that's what this is. It is not a business, run in a businesslike manner. It is a dumpsite and one whose danger is obvious to anyone standing near it.
Something tells me that if Judge Buckner, the sheriff, the Environmental Protection Agency and the County Commissioners were meeting with all those angry neighbors on that site and with the cameras rolling, the wheels of all levels of government would turn very quickly indeed.

Students deserve voice in reform
Wednesday, April 07, 2004
On the front page of this newspaper last Sunday was a bold headline about students complaining they'd not had their say in the process of reforming the Chapel Hill-Carrboro high schools.
According to the story, students said they asked to be included on committees discussing scheduling, but were denied. Other committees met during the school day. I'm guessing the district didn't give participating students excused release time in order to participate.
Recently, I had a rather long and animated chat with a local (and fairly recent) high school valedictorian about why it is so difficult to get young people (those 25 and younger) to vote. What she told me was shocking to me at first, but after reading about this reform plan, I'm a believer.
We are taught in high school not to vote, she said. We are taught not to care, not to engage and to recognize that the established powers in a large system are all about the business of locking out change and reformation. More than anything, those in authority resist giving up any of the power they have for the benefit of hearing out a minority view.
Her evidence was compelling. Student governments, she said, have no real power within school life. They cannot pick a date for the prom without an adult's signature, cannot impose any punishment for students who violate the honor code and certainly play no substantive role in the hiring of a new principal or superintendent.
So it's no surprise that students have virtually no chance to be a forceful voice in any blockbuster (or block scheduling) question of an academic nature, a tender issue (with safety and liability involved) like off-campus privileges or how many AP courses should be permitted.
Of course, I'm skeptical of reform plans that claim to come through any existing system. Those "reforms" that originate with the fox typically offer little new security to the henhouse.
Superintendent Neil Pedersen's response to the students' dismay was to claim that the district had been open to students' input and continues to be so. That's terrific. Surely that means that when the student body president of Chapel Hill High School (among the best high schools in the nation) says "students were by no means represented in this process" the good Dr. Pedersen slammed on the brakes and threw out his existing planning schedule for this project.
If he and the city school board really are listening, then they must realize there's been a major failure in their effort to involve their customers -- who are directly and very personally affected by the results -- in this process.
I don't suggest that it will be possible to please everyone. That would be absurd. But if you're paying more than lip service to the process of collecting input and brainstorming for solutions, even those whose ideas are not used will feel they've had their say. If you're good at it, they'll feel a sense of ownership of the chosen course, regardless of its origin.
My friend the valedictorian told me that she had virtually no authority to say what she wanted to in her commencement speech, for example. What in the world would possess a school to subject such an accomplished student (now a summa cum laude college graduate) to the review of adults? Because it's their show, she said ... essentially, they hold onto that control just because they can.
So if an average schmo student feels he wasn't sufficiently consulted about reforming the structure of two high schools, I can dismiss that. Maybe he slept through the announcements. Maybe he didn't see the flier.
But when the student body president feels locked out, the spotlight turns to the people with all the power to demand that they demonstrate they have provided a means for every student to have his or her views heard.
"We continue to listen," Pedersen said. That's good. When all those students (and some teachers, too) demand a delay in this decision so that they can be heard, I hope Pedersen and his bosses are able to hear it.
How much reform is needed? Plenty. So urgent is the desire to produce a better high school graduate that five area businesses are each pledging a half million dollars to "re-think" how high schools work in Wake, Durham, Orange and Johnston counties -- the so-called "High Five: Regional Partnership for High School Excellence."
With no plan yet for how spend it, five companies have offered that cash over five years' time to shake things up. It is area businesses, after all, that are most likely to hire local students with no more than a high school education.
"It's beyond ambition, it's audacious," said Blue Cross Blue Shield CEO Bob Gretczyn of the effort. More next week on what the private sector will get for its $2.5 million.

Handling the business of education
Wednesday, April 14, 2004
It's like an episode of "Back to the Future," without the popcorn or the stainless steel DeLorean. The business community is doing, in all humility, exactly what I said it would.
About 10 years ago, I wrote an op-ed piece in the Durham Herald-Sun that described in some detail how the business community would soon be fed up with waiting for public schools to get their act together.
Facing an increasing need for high-tech workers, these companies would in the coming years find themselves spending more and more resources on the unwanted task of training them. There would come a tipping point, I said, where the need to take over becomes obvious.
How would this hostile takeover manifest itself? My prediction was that the heavy hitters in business would put their heads together and conclude that they're the largest consumers of the "product" of public education. They hire high school and college graduates. They are, therefore, the test of whether or not education has prepared young people for the world of work and self-reliance.
So the local companies with the heft to do it would first put down a large sum of money and offer to help the schools. They would not do this via straight donation, but rather by establishing an external resource they could control.
With that established, they will have effectively bought themselves a seat at the policy table and little by little, their influence will drive the changes in the public school system.
A couple weeks ago, we all heard about the so-called "High Five" project, which translates to $2.5 million over five years' time, sponsored by Blue Cross and Blue Shield's foundation, the News & Observer, SAS, Progress Energy and Capitol Broadcasting.
These companies have each plunked down a half-million smackers toward the "audacious" goals they've outlined. They are:
*All ninth graders will graduate high school in four years.
*Ninety percent of students complete some sort of college preparatory course of study on either a university or tech-prep track.
*Eighty percent of students meet requirements for admission to the UNC system.
That's it. According to Blue Cross and Blue Shield's CEO Bob Greczyn, that's a plan that's "not just ambitious, it's audacious."
Sorry, Mr. Greczyn, it's not audacious. In fact, it's not even particularly ambitious. If students meet their high-school graduation requirements now and do so on time, they've largely met these goals. The schools should be doing that right now. Of course, I'll wager that Greczyn is keenly aware of that, just like he knows that Blue Cross' record profits last year were not quite a quirky "missed guess."
The real curiosity is that area districts are purportedly very excited about this new reform effort, even as Chapel Hill-Carrboro school officials are busily ramming through their own version of "reform"-- no doubt so they could claim to be ahead of the curve by the time High Five hits the ground crawling.
But they're so far behind it, they probably can't catch up. School officials are busy stonewalling parents of gifted kids as they phase out any set-aside curriculum for academically gifted students. While they'll still accept every nickel of extra taxpayer dollars for meeting the needs of the academically gifted, they're just going to clog up mainstream classes with gifted kids whose need for challenge and fast-moving material will turn into behavior issues quicker than you can say "IEP."
You can teach children of varying levels in one classroom. I've seen it. It's awesome. I recommend it. You just can't do it in today's public school classroom, not when you're teaching to high-stakes end-of-grade tests never designed to evaluate individual performance, No-Child-Left-Behind accountability standards, and your classroom in the trailer is overcrowded.
This is where the self-described "best district in the state of North Carolina" should be holding the line and demanding that it offer:
*As many Advanced Placement courses as possible.
*Magnet AG programs to allow children from all over the county to segregate themselves for the purpose of working to much higher standards.
*Well-managed resources for children with special needs, based on the gains it makes in grouping AG students together to meet their needs.
*Various creative scheduling options to allow students to finish high school in 21/2 or three years, helping (even in a small way) to alleviate overcrowding.
For $2.5 million, these area businesses will be looking to jam their feet in the door to bring some real-world efficiency to the participating school districts. Let's hope the local captains of industry have better luck than parents in getting a straight answer from the schools. Even more critical, let's hope that with two major media companies involved, the process will be refreshingly transparent.

Davidson’s departure is disturbing
Wednesday, April 21, 2004
I read with great sadness about the departure of Betty Tom Davidson from the Orange County school board. It's not just that she's leaving, of course, it's the circumstances of her quitting that are so disturbing.
In resigning at the mid-point of her term, Davidson leaves the board in a very awkward position. Board members will have to put aside their differences, think about what's best for the larger community and conduct a fair and thoughtful process to fill Davidson's seat.
I'll confess, I'm not optimistic.
After all, no matter what you think of a fellow board member, you want to serve with people who were elected to the board, not appointed. They have the benefit of knowing, at least, who put them there and what cause(s) they are on board to champion.
But when the board must appoint a member, it would be easy to feel torn about your goal in making that appointment -- are you trying to get someone who is like Davidson, or someone closer to one or another leader on the board? There are merits to both.
But the chilling, disturbing piece in all this is how it is that Davidson felt she had no choice but to resign, citing her responsibilities as a parent. In her tearful remarks, she referred to the district's essentially not responding to a child crying out for help. This, she said, defines the district's (or anyone's) humanity.
The details of Davidson's individual situation are hers to make public (or not) but there is more than enough here to grab the collars of each remaining school board member and shake until buttons start falling to the floor.
Here we have a sitting board member who is specifically stating that she feels her child cannot be kept safe in school. Wow. Imagine what it would be like if you were just ... an ordinary parent.
About 10 years ago, my older son got ... well ... the snot beat out of him at C.W. Stanford Middle School. He was in sixth grade, about 75 pounds soaking wet and glasses that were bigger than his face. His algebra teacher came upon a kid standing over my son, kicking him in the stomach.
Both boys were hauled to the principal's office ... almost as though they were pulled apart during what law enforcement calls a "mutual affray." A mutual affray is a fight where you're giving it as good as you're getting it. In this case, my son was strictly "getting it."
Because he was slight of build and a poster kid for nerdy brain power, I worried plenty about this kid of mine. When I met with the principal, I asked what the disciplinary action was that the other boy was dealt. He reluctantly told me that the bully was made to apologize. That was about it.
I wasn't impressed when the principal described that apology, either. It was something of an "OK, he's cool," thing that, according to this principal, was as much as I'd ever see from a kid in that age group.
This was baloney, of course. I had a kid in that age group. When an apology was called for, he gave one. It nearly always began with code words like "I'm sorry" or "I'm really sorry." In my family and in the public schools I attended, that's how apologies sound.
I talked to my son at the time about this incident and asked if this apology was enough. He was still anxious about getting beaten up again, but he was vastly more concerned that the whole thing go away -- that he not stand out in particular. If I had pressed the matter, he'd glow in the dark.
So if I had, for example, asked to move my child to another academic team, I would have drawn more attention to him. Frankly, I wouldn't have been surprised if I were stonewalled by the school's administration, which consistently told me they knew best. They often didn't.
But if I insisted on that solution or another one like it, I would expect the principal and the school board to back me to the hilt, just like I back up every teacher on issues like homework and testing readiness and civil behavior in the classroom. When traffic flows only one way on a two-way street, accidents are never far away. When it's my child and the question is one of physical safety, a reasonable request must be honored in the best interest of the child. That's my husband's and my legal responsibility -- no one else's.
I haven't talked to Davidson about her child or their situation, but I know that if a parent with her access and influence cannot get a safety issue resolved in a satisfactory manner, there is something terribly wrong with the system -- something worthy of urgent attention at the highest level.

Weapons of mass obstruction
Wednesday, April 28, 2004
On Monday's editorial page, Chapel Hill-Carrboro Schools Superintendent Neil Pedersen made a statement some parents may find surprising. "We cannot turn a deaf ear to criticisms that a student is bored or unchallenged in class," he wrote.
Read that sentence very, very carefully and you'll find some compelling and disturbing information. First, it's the opposite of the facts, according to many, many parents of gifted children. Pedersen and his staff have done precisely what he says they "cannot" do.
A deaf ear? Pedersen and his staff have not only lost their hearing, they have unplugged the phones (they don't return calls), turned their e-mail into rubber stamps that say little more than "return to sender" and have flipped the back of their hands to parents whose frustration is becoming manifest.
Several parents have e-mailed me with attachments of their queries to the district staff or school board members in Chapel Hill. These are long, detailed, thoughtful correspondences with detailed, intelligent questions. They get responses like Nick Didow's "Thank you for your e-mail. I will give it thoughtful consideration."
So widely reputed is this response among these parents, Didow would have an easier time trademarking that phrase than Donald Trump would of "You're fired."
Pedersen declares that he believes in the differentiation plan -- and that's good enough for him. Never let evidence get in the way of what you believe.
And as parents are screaming bloody murder about being systematically ignored by the district, he writes about not turning a deaf ear to them. What he says is wholly contrary to the direct experience of these parents as substantiated by voluminous amounts of e-mail. But Pedersen still contends that he's "listening."
The independent research being done by these parents to help develop and operate under the best practices in gifted education is enough to sink a battleship. To see how the district receives this help, you'd think it was enough to sink the district.
Like these frustrated parents, the county commissioners have earned a degree in dentistry for the number of painful extractions (of information) they've experienced with Chapel Hill-Carrboro. One such exchange had exasperated county officials pounding their fists and chewing the furniture for such top-secret information as how many employees the district has.
The clash in these matters is about two things near and dear to everyone involved. Money and power are forceful drivers, after all, and they are integral pieces to the vexing puzzle.
The money involved is the revenue the district gets from the state for students they identify as exceptional. This includes students at both extremes of the spectrum. A student with a high IQ, for example, would presumably be intellectually gifted, though he or she may not test well or be particularly high achieving in the classroom.
Academically gifted kids are typically high achieving, though they can be students who simply work harder and longer to master material earlier or at a deeper level. According to the Chapel Hill-Carrboro district, some 30 percent of students meet one of these descriptions.
But the district gets funds that are capped at a fixed percentage ... it is presumed that the bell curve will work it all out. Chapel Hill-Carrboro may have a disproportionate number of gifted students. Another district may have an unusual concentration of students with learning disabilities or students living in poverty with lesser reading skills, for example.
So the districts find themselves with something of a disincentive to meet the needs of students as individuals. Offering more AP courses doesn't improve the district's overall performance, the argument would go, it just drives costs up in keeping teachers trained in the advanced course work.
In his guest column, Pedersen is careful to talk about what is offered instead of what is being reduced. His district offers 26 AP courses, he says, but never offers a sound explanation for why it's important to individual students that they be discouraged from taking as many AP courses as they want.
In Advanced Placement coursework, the student is at last getting the best approach to teaching gifted kids -- an advanced curriculum the student has self-selected. It is unconscionable to me a district would pursue a policy that will tend to reduce the number of such courses that one student takes. To claim this is on behalf of limiting the "academic pressure" students feel is to insult everyone involved.
"Our schools need to develop more effective accountability measures to determine the academic progress gifted students are making," writes Pedersen.
Sounds to me like a new assessment tool for AG students. Another task force, another multi-year wheel re-invention. Where does it end?

Clean your room and say thanks
Wednesday, May 05, 2004
It's that time again. This Sunday, the pitter patter of little feet will scurry outside the bedrooms of mothers all over the world as eggs are clumsily scrambled, toast is burned to order and juice is splashed into a glass.
I'll confess, I miss that part of having young kids. The homemade cards (most of which I still have, of course) and the coupons for a clean room are the classic favorites, but this year I was thinking about changing my wish list.
First, I'm simply glad that on this Mother's Day I still have my own mom to shop for. She's had some health problems in the last year, and last summer it was looking pretty dicey. We're never promised tomorrow, so I am all the more grateful to have made it to one more celebration of my mother's love.
Back to my list: what I want for Mother's Day is difficult ... probably unattainable, but it's worth holding the good thought. I want my kids to clean their rooms (even the one who's grown up and living in his own apartment). I want my husband to throw rose petals at my feet for giving him two beautiful children. I pulled for Phil Mickelson to win the Masters. Now I want the Red Sox to win the World Series.
And I want the most unrealistic thing off all (of the first two items). I want them to do these things of their own volition. I want them to see the world as I do. That's what mothers really want.
We want everyone to walk into a bedroom, see clothes on the floor and an unmade bed and feel hormonally compelled to clean it up. We want our husbands to hear a song on the radio like the Beach Boys' "God Only Knows (What I'd Be Without You)" and get weepy at the personal connection it makes.
Somehow, this doesn't seem to happen for most people. Moms get this once-annually tribute day and then we return to chauffeur duty, short-order cook and laundress -- all unpaid, commonly unappreciated.
And it isn't the pay that matters ... not at all, in fact. My son was on a field trip a couple of weeks ago and he mentioned to his teacher while traveling that his parents had been married for more than 25 years and still love each other very much. He was grateful for this, he said, because so many of his friends have divorced parents or those who don't get along well.
That spontaneous expression of gratitude (to a third party) is worth a hundred store-bought greeting cards and as many potted plants.
It really is a little thing that goes a long, long way with moms. That sense that a kid can say thanks just because he or she wants to, not merely through a sense of obligation.
When we go out to dinner, we have a family ritual on the way out of the restaurant. I thank my husband for dinner (or vice-versa) then the kids follow suit. When the kids were young, I was less subtle about it, saying "Thank you for dinner, Daddy. That was good." We teach gratitude by practicing it. It's worked pretty well. Sometimes I'm the one chiming in last, a source of pride.
I've thanked my mother before for all the things that she did when I was young -- diapers, laundry, teenage disagreements and so forth. I've thanked her for caring for my elderly grandparents until each of them died.
I've done that job myself, just as she did ... caring for my in-laws until each of them died. There's no card for that. There's no way to explain how it is that you simply must do it. That "attraction to familial duty" is a pull that my mother and I share. It's a value that she taught me by doing it, just like saying "Thank you, Daddy" after going out to dinner. I'm grateful for the instruction.
Now in the autumn of her life, my mother teaches about carrying on, about being grateful that she can live in her own home after months in hospitals. She appreciates the chats we have on the telephone, mostly because she appreciates the company, but also because she's glad to have her speech back after a pretty big stroke. She doesn't take her ability to express herself for granted like the rest of us so often do.
So I'll take that lesson, too. Happy Mother's Day, Mom. I love you. It's in the newspaper, so you know it must be true.

Saying a lot through their silence
Wednesday, May 12, 2004
Teacher appreciation week has never meant more to my brother and his wife than it did last Friday when Mrs. Lopez appeared in the driveway of their Cheshire, Conn., home.
Stacey Lopez is my niece's first grade teacher. Last Thursday, our dear Taylor developed a heck of a tummy ache after school. By midnight she was in the hospital. By midday on Friday, she was on an operating table saying goodbye to her young appendix.
As a matter of course, my brother and sister-in-law notified Taylor's school on Friday morning that she was ill and wouldn't be in school. When Chris returned home in the afternoon, he greeted Lopez in the driveway, her arms filled with balloons and "get well soon" cards from Taylor's classmates.
On days like these, it's crystal clear that many people with golden hearts are chosen to be teachers. In this case, Chris and Lisa's tearful thanks are all the acknowledgement Mrs. Lopez would ever require.
There are certain aspects of commitment to excellence that you can't put in a job description.
Taylor's own description summed it up as she explained to a nurse at the hospital, "They really care about me." What a great feeling to have to replace such a bummy tummy.
Indeed, sometimes teachers speak volumes not by what they say, but rather in what they do. Lopez wasn't going to leave it to the mail or leaving a message on Chris and Lisa's answering machine. Not even an e-mail -- quick and free -- was going to suffice. She knew that there's a penetrating effect in the body of a person showing up in person to express concern.
And sometimes volumes are spoken by what educators don't say and don't do.
For example, I've watched closely for the editorial pages to fill up with supportive letters from teachers who think highly of the reforms proposed for the Chapel Hill-Carrboro plan for gifted education. The silence is deafening, if not to say alarming.
According to Sandra Page, the coordinator of Chapel Hill-Carrboro's gifted programs, the city school board will consider revisions to the Academically/Intellectually Gifted (AIG) plan at its May 20 meeting. During that meeting, there will be opportunity for public comment. After integrating changes from that meeting, the board is expected to vote approval of a final revision on June 3.
We'll operate under the assumption that the state's deadline of June 1 for receiving this plan is merely a target date and that a June 3 adoption will be acceptable. Of course, my son can't turn in his English homework two days late and get any credit at all, but that's another story altogether.
If the seismic rumbling I've been picking up is any indication, the board will be well advised to wear hard hats to the May 20 meeting. This will be parents' one and only chance to make their feelings known directly to the board about the process and the expected level of service their children will be getting. My guess is it won't be pretty.
Those parents who are bruised and bleeding from banging their heads against the Merritt Mill Road brick wall can watch the district's Web site for the release of the final report (they say they've repeatedly requested drafts and have been ignored). Perhaps during the board's review of the plan the superintendent will explain why, apparently, drafts of revisions were not made available when requested. These are public documents -- even in draft form -- and we're all entitled to see them, warts and all.
In the cold light of day we may see disagreement within the district, but at least we would see, track and understand a process. Right now parents' video cameras capture only smoke and mirrors.

Day deserves serious observance
Originally published in:Chapel Hill Herald
Wednesday, May 26, 2004
Times have changed, haven't they?
When I was a kid, Memorial Day was not only a holiday, it was one that came on the same day every year -- May 30(CORRECTION NOTE: Memorial Day (formerly Decoration Day) was actually May 30) -- just like it happens to fall this year.
It was, however, unlike other holidays. We might picnic at Elizabeth Park in Hartford, but otherwise, my family didn't observe Memorial Day as one would Independence Day. It was a quiet thing, a day to think and remember.
And let's be fair -- it was the 1960s and early 1970s. We were worrying about sending our young men to a distant and vague war. We feared the government was lying to us about why we were involved and what was going on there. We heard stories of our soldiers committing atrocities. The truth was very hard to see. It was more than the fog of war. It was a fog of national purpose.
This year, my high school-age son will be in school on Memorial Day, a decision I wish the Orange County Schools would reconsider for the future schedule. It's a make-up day for all but the high school seniors. They will have graduated this Friday and I expect that wild horses couldn't get them to class on Monday.
But because of snow that fell months ago, students must now fill the space of a classroom chair for four hours on Monday and Tuesday. Exams are all over. The seniors have, like Elvis, left the building. The school year, countywide, is completed, but instead of finishing on June 2 and observing Memorial Day during a year of war, my son will be keeping his perfect attendance record intact by getting up early, hopping on the bus and showing up to take up space.
Reminders of the war in Iraq (the one whose mission is by no means accomplished) are everywhere it seems. There's no way that you don't know someone with a family member in harm's way.
I ran into my neighbor in the hardware store the other day. He's a retired Marine colonel and a gifted artist, a sculptor. His younger son was with him. They are John and Johnny respectively and Johnny is also a fine artist. He lives in California, so it was catch-up time. I stopped over to visit that evening.
I teased the younger John that when I visit Connecticut the first question I usually get is "When are you coming back?" so I asked him for his return plans. There was some talk of a party when his nephew returns from Iraq, he said, but plans are uncertain.
Indeed, until he's calling from a U.S. airport, don't count on his getting out when he's supposed to get out, I said. I've heard stories of soldiers having their buses turned around en route to the airport. Sorry, three more months.
When a war is about the return of my nephew (now back) or my neighbors' grandchild, it takes on a different urgency. When our soldiers are transformed into sitting duck targets by the reckless mismanagement of a prison, it is the sort of thing that will send people to the streets to protest for change.
The real war, some say, is going on within the beltway, between and among the departments of Defense, the CIA and the National Security Agency, the battle for who runs the international intelligence business. That may be, but it's my neighbor's grandson who sleeps with one eye open, if he sleeps at all.
Suddenly Memorial Day feels familiar again. All we need to complete the picture is an expose about presidential neglect of duty by Bob Woodward.
War is always about someone's grandchildren, of course. En route to the beach now and then, I drive past the gate of Camp Lejeune, decorated with so many "I miss you" banners for expected soldiers and those departing. The mood in local restaurants and small businesses is one of somber anticipation.
And that's how Memorial Day feels to me this year -- somber, quiet. Maybe next year, I can plan a picnic. Let's hope the mission is closer to accomplishment by then.

Don’t forget to add the footnotes
Wednesday, June 02, 2004
It's embarrassing to make mistakes. Last week, for example, I waxed on about how great it was when Memorial Day was celebrated on a date certain, as opposed to the last-Monday-of-May as we do it now. I liked it better when it was Memorial Day every May 31, I'd said.
Right idea, maybe, but the wrong day. Memorial Day (formerly Decoration Day) was actually May 30. I afford myself this one mitigating factor ... this was what we call "an honest mistake."
It's the time of year when everyone's finishing up classes, exams and term papers. We all know how rushed that can feel. That time pressure doesn't explain my lapse, but perhaps it has something to do with a gaffe that appears to have befallen Keith Cook, the chairman of the Orange County school board.
It's tough to be chairman. You've got to give the commencement address at two high schools and come up with something fresh and insightful for each of them. You want to be charming, witty and mercifully brief.
When Cook took to the microphone at Cedar Ridge High School's commencement last Friday he cited some of the more memorable comments from Robert Fulghum's "All I Really Need to Know I learned in Kindergarten." The more famous one-liners are very popular in commencement speeches -- like "Hold hands when you're crossing the street."
When making the reference, my sources tell me, Cook credited the author. Then he went on to the Orange High graduation at the Smith Center. Apparently, the valedictorian shared Cook's affection for Fulghum's book and used many of the same references. Some of the board members, I was told, exchanged nervous looks, wondering if Cook would be left stammering. He was not.
He went on and gave a different speech, one in which he cited some of the lessons learned from the 1998 movie "Titanic." First, he observed that the graduation reminded him of his own high school commencement. "The relief. The hugging. The tears of joy. And that was just the teachers," said Cook, according to The Chapel Hill Herald's May 29 account of the speech.
He then went on with his lessons from the movie. "If you're headed toward icebergs, be prepared to change course and if you're headed toward college, be prepared to change roommates at least three times," he said. He cited the need to dress for success and recalled Jack's admonition to Rose in the movie -- make every day count.
It's a good speech, but a friend of mine (among the parents in the audience) thought that something about it didn't sound like Cook's voice as a writer or speaker. He stumbled through some of it, my friend reported. It also seemed odd that Cook would choose to reference an R-rated movie that came out when these graduating seniors were in sixth grade.
Since I didn't attend the event, I asked a few people if Cook had attributed these insights to another author. No, they said. After all, how could another author recall how Cook felt at his own high school commencement?
Hard to imagine, but in the age of Google, imagination need not apply.
And it's a small world, isn't it? Apparently, Cook felt not just much the same but exactly-word-for-word-the-same as then-Secretary of Health and Human Services Donna Shalala felt when she gave a high school commencement address at Madison West High School in Madison, Wis., her home state.
Some of the opening comments for example:
"I know exactly how you must feel today, because I can still recall my own high school graduation. The relief. The hugging. The tears of joy. And that was just the teachers. As for the students, we all shared the fond memories, the great expectations -- and the absolutely chilling fear that our commencement speaker would never stop talking."
Shalala went on to offer her top ten tips from the movie "Titanic." Three of those were obviously very local references (related to parking at the school, for example.) Cook gave Orange High graduates only seven lessons from the movie.
During that year, Shalala made several commencement speeches and referenced her "lessons from Titanic" in several of them. It's a wonderful device for a speaker to use, it's topical and an effective way to use humor.
I do know two things for sure about this.
Thing one: The graduating seniors of both Orange County high schools deserve a more thoughtful sendoff than this would indicate and
Thing two: If any of them had pulled a stunt like this and offered it as their own work, they'd be looking at a long, hot summer, repeating a course.

One pol dies; another survives
Wednesday, June 09, 2004
It's been a long seven days, hasn't it? For political observers, there has been an unusual and oddly balanced perspective in the flood of news this last week -- ranging from the foolish mistake of our own Keith Cook reaching the national media stage to the death of a former president.
They say all politics are local, and Ronald Reagan's passing is no different. He was almost certainly the most influential Republican in American history. He was certainly the most popular. (If the South were voting in 1864, Lincoln would never have been re-elected.)
Reagan and Lincoln, his only real competitor for the most influential title, were unlike each other politically. Lincoln was a progressive candidate, using the power of the federal government to expand the rights of individuals. Certainly Reagan's success in the South was instructive to Bill Clinton. Reagan probably liked that.
That's a legacy of a real leader -- something much bigger than you, bigger than your party and much, much bigger than just getting re-elected. In contrast to Reagan, it is stunning how very small our presidential candidates (on both sides) appear today.
The whole tone and character of Reagan as a man appears to have vanished from politics at every level. Reagan had so many memorable veto threats offered to Congress over one bill or another, including his famous "Dirty Harry" offer to "make his day" by sending a bill he could veto.
Then he punched out at the end of his shift. Maybe it was his history in acting, but Reagan knew that a certain amount of politics was show business and not the real him. He could lay down his sword and enjoy a meal with his loyal opponent. Perhaps at that stage it was the blessing of being able to forget.
It has been a stunning week for our own swirl of political wind -- much of it the hot air of former Orange County school board chairman Cook, desperately trying to explain his made-up term, "generic speech" and tap dancing as fast as he can to show that there was some form of an innocent explanation for his actions.
The part of all this that we must take heed of, however, is what has actually happened. In less than a week, Cook admitted what he actually did, resigned his leadership post and the school board has replaced him as chairman. They did so at their first opportunity Monday and before conducting any other business.
Then they carried on the business of running the Orange County schools, and they did so effectively with one voice.
Anybody paying attention here? That's pretty rare. Moreover, it's only fair to look at what their actual options were. The board cannot, for example, vote to remove Cook as chairman, but it's beyond naive to believe that he did so without their collective footprints on his rear end.
To remove a fellow board member is possible when a member has engaged in "disreputable conduct," but that process is an appropriately deliberate one. It involves an investigation, a review by the state Board of Education and a hearing. The voters would long since have decided Cook's fate by the time such a process was completed.
Hillsborough resident Julie Hunt responded to the school board meeting by complaining that she'd hoped the board would have "done something." She said that the board sends a message that an apology wipes the slate clean.
Wrong. Cook has resigned his leadership position at the behest of the community and his colleagues. He has humiliated himself and humbled himself in an effort to be accountable. His colleagues are not conducting a sporting event. They don't owe the public a victory dance at the feet of a vanquished member.
What the school board actually did was to follow its own ethics policy to the letter, initiating the public censure procedure. This is the limit of what the board can do to spank one of its own in public, and despite the emotion of the situation and the visceral need to act decisively, they stuck to the book. That meant they couldn't complete that procedure Monday night.
They were responsible. They were measured and fair. They got down to business to serve the students and the community. When we talk about wanting political civility and better cooperation among our elected officials, we should remember their actions. Bloodthirsty calls for greater shame and humiliation serve no one, diminish public life and do nothing to cleanse our leaders of their flaws.
We'll hear from the voters soon enough. Cook's judgment may have been lacking in his speechwriting, but his timing was exquisite.

Orange school board right on target
Wednesday, June 16, 2004
Oops, they did it again.
For the second consecutive week, the Orange County school board has made a decision that was measured, cool-headed and struck a balance of common sense and simple fairness. What is this, the twilight zone?
Last week, following the resignation from his chairmanship of the board for plagiarizing a commencement speech, Keith Cook thought that his ordeal had ended. It had not.
Following the board's own newly adopted ethics procedure, member Libbie Hough brought her complaint to the board -- at the end of last week's meeting. She wasn't playing it for the cameras -- and there were plenty of them -- or the crowd. They had all long since departed for bedtime and deadline. Hough waited and followed procedure.
In the days following, she and Cook and Chairwoman Brenda Stephens stepped through the process and brought it to the board's meeting Monday night. Hough wasn't looking for blood -- she was providing herself and her colleagues with a framework to review what Cook had done.
That's her job and that's the job of every board member -- to review what may be a violation of policy. If there isn't one, then it's simply a political matter, a problem of embarrassment, forgiveness or scorn.
And that's where it ended up -- the political arena. The policy specifically addresses what might happen when a board member takes a "private action that will compromise the board or administration." Cook's cut-and-paste was many things, but not private. He was acting on behalf of the school board.
And that's why his colleagues, who have been calm and clear-eyed throughout this hurricane, acted with wisdom when they worked behind the scenes to convey to Cook the need for his resignation as board chairman. That was the punishment that fit the crime.
Considering the censure (and ultimately rejecting it) was just as legitimate. The board should use these tools, think about the options and discuss their implications. That public deliberation is built into the process for a reason. A fair discussion should produce an outcome that looks forward and considers precedent and long-term implications, not short-term politics.
And let me be among the first to congratulate the board on its unanimous vote in this case. Their comments were, with one exception, constructive and thoughtful. They looked toward future boards and the caliber of people who will serve.
A fair, considered process, properly executed is something to celebrate. We'll all hope the example helps to bring the board members together in a way that has eluded them so often. Perhaps the baptism of fire will produce some greater wisdom for everyone.
But for outgoing member Dana Thompson, it was merely one more opportunity to take a shot at Cook. She seemed to find the censure discussion an irresistible opportunity to speculate on what punishment would be best ... maybe he should miss 10 meetings, she said, to mimic a 10-day suspension that a student would receive for a similar offense.
Was that some indirect form of confession? While her presence is not mandatory at the commissioners' budget presentation and public hearings, she's attended these sessions in previous years and skipped them this go-round.
Thompson may have her own ax to grind here. She obstructed Cook's efforts to secure so-called "master training" for the board itself. That training was to help the board work together more constructively, looking at issues instead of each other.
When Thompson finally agreed to a date for the training, it was scheduled and she was a no-show.
Such training really shows its worth during a crisis, and we've seen in the last weeks that most of the board members are looking toward the future and outward from their own feelings.
They've also taken some obvious lessons in working together quietly (not illegally as Thompson has frequently implied, just quietly) behind the scenes to build alliances to get things done. That's the way politics should work. It should be a process, not a dirty word.
The improvement is obvious and the fresh air is appreciated. This school board has some difficult choices ahead this summer, from the decisions it will make about Spanish teachers to whether or not Cedar Ridge's International Baccalaureate program can go forward.
Thompson's rock-throwing will fade and tough decisions will remain. It's nice to see some grown-ups at the table, even if it's only for a while.

Named -- while you were sneezing
Wednesday, June 23, 2004
Bless you.
While you were sneezing, blowing your nose, tying your shoes or microwaving your popcorn, the town of Carrboro made a quick decision. They did so in a manner that seems to jab the town of Chapel Hill just a bit, making a little decision just a little bigger.
During a recent discussion about the town's Hillsborough Road park, Mayor Mike Nelson reportedly had a spontaneous thought that the town should go ahead with naming the park. He suggested, with relatively little fanfare, that the Board of Aldermen proceed with naming the site Martin Luther King Park.
All in favor said "aye" and the matter was quickly concluded. Nelson said later that he didn't see any need to "talk it to death," as naming the park in this way was not a controversial matter.
If he giggled about Chapel Hill's Airport Road renaming struggle, he did so in private by all accounts, but one could understand the urge.
Now let's be fair ... naming a park and renaming a street with a lot of commercial property is far from the same thing. You name the park, it gets developed and all the signage and stationery is made up with that name.
But the renaming of a street like Airport Road could have implications for businesses that might be a genuine burden to them. Remaking business cards, stationery, all of your promotional materials and so forth does add up. It's hard to start a business and harder to keep one alive, so I appreciate the fairness issue there, but frankly, there's the reality of the thing.
Many years ago (about 15, I think) my little residential street went through a similar situation. We had to change our house number due to the county's transferring to the 911 grid system and we also were moved into a new zip code when Chapel Hill added 27516.
(When I sent notice of these two changes to the phone company, they called me to confirm where my new service would be as they had scheduled me for disconnection. I was obviously moving, they said, and so would probably need to transfer my phone service.)
Many of us resisted the change of our house numbers. We went to the commissioners' public hearings on the matter and pleaded to keep our system. We have a curvaceous street, we said, and the numbering is confusing. The commissioners listened politely and went forward with the change.
Although I'm certainly grateful for the 911 service, we sometimes get two or three ambulances due to some kind of coverage overlap in the system. Whenever that's happened, I've had a sick feeling that somebody, somewhere is having chest pains and waiting for the extra crew in my driveway to climb back in and be available again. If it's my next-door neighbor, well, I guess that's a "happy accident," but I wouldn't bet on that.
The bottom line is that it has easily been over a decade since that change was made. I still get mail sent to my old address. I still get bills mailed to that address. Look us up on any online directory and you'll find us under the old address (with the old zip code) despite the fact that this was changed well before the Internet was anything we were particularly aware of as consumers.
If the town of Chapel Hill shakes the molasses out of its renaming process and gets on with naming a major access artery after Dr. King, there is almost no risk that tax bills sent to Town of Chapel Hill, Airport Road, Chapel Hill, NC are not going to be delivered.
That's not the town's proper mailing address now -- the town hall is actually on North Columbia Street -- but I'll wager a pint of chocolate chip from the Inside Scoop that they get mail every day that is erroneously sent to Airport Road.
So the long and the short of it is that when businesses run out of business cards, stationery, menus, etc, they'll order more -- just as they would have anyway. A new postal address will be among the changes they'll need to correct. That's part of the cost of doing business.
And when we locals are giving directions to students and their parents every fall, we'll likely still call it Airport Road just as we call 15-501 in Chapel Hill by that name, largely ignoring the "Fordham Blvd." designation awarded many years ago. It's a practical decision, not a political one.
And for that benefit, the town might think about leaving the Airport Road street signs up for a decade or so until we can get used to the idea. Completion will come when someone calls the town to ask why Martin Luther King Blvd. is apparently being renamed "Airport Road."

Politics up close and personal
June 30, 2004
ColumnistIn the tradition of good old southern politics, Susan and Steve Halkiotis threw a party last weekend to rally the troops and help turn out the vote for their favorite candidates.
The party began in the early evening and more than 60 or so people attended. A yellow jacket had time to take a bite out of my younger son. Our hosts attended to him, apologizing for the rude insect.
The event was a picnic sponsored by the Halkiotises and Sharlene and Orrin Pilkey to give friends of both couples an opportunity to meet some candidates in person and to rally the group to help turn out the vote. Because there were three of the five Orange County Commissioners present, the press was invited to attend.
The menu included "Halkiotis Humanitarian Hot Dogs, Butterfly Ballot Baked Beans and Hanging Chad Chips." And don't forget the Pilkey Progressive (Apple) Pie.
The candidates worked the crowd, talking some, laughing a lot and exchanging stories and fellowship. The highlight, however, was the stump speeches. This was, after all, a rally.
With an absolutely tree-shakin', earthquakin' introduction from host Steve Halkiotis, each of the candidates (Moses Carey, Margaret Brown and Barry Jacobs) spoke to the group, expressing gratitude for the gathering, for the opportunity to continue serving Orange County and the need for a strong voter turnout. "Go to the polls and bring your friends" was the clear rallying cry.
As Halkiotis pulled everyone together for the speeches, he threw out some good old fashioned populist rhetoric, taking some jabs at the opposition, criticizing the treatment that Orange County gets from the state government at times and imploring the group to get fired up about winning elections.
And yes, there was some "those-guys-are-knuckleheads" talk about those of the conservative persuasion, but no one by name and no language as colorful as the vice-president recently offered on the floor of the U.S. Senate. This was a family event.
In this day of negative TV ads and a political environment that leads candidates to believe that saying "no" to something is actually a platform in itself, this was like a trip back through time -- back to the old days when you'd meet a candidate in person, look him in the eye and ask what the heck he plans to do about such and such.
It's not that you extract the promise of this action or that. Instead, it's knowing that if he gets elected, you can call him and remind him that you've met before. Your ability to take action on behalf of your neighborhood may well depend on knowing whom your representatives are and how to talk to them.
And that means accepting it when they compromise on your behalf. It's our job to tell our elected officials what we need -- really need -- so that when they're struggling through tough budget decisions they know that cutting that next $100,000 out of the schools might mean no International Baccalaureate program and that lots of people support it (or that no one does, if that's the case).
I didn't go to the party to talk policy with the candidates or to grill them on any upcoming votes. I went to watch them work. I went to eat some butterfly ballot baked beans. I went because I worry that not enough people seem to care about local politics and the tone it's taking lately.
As we were driving home, my older son (a 1999 Orange High graduate) commented that he'd seen Steve Halkiotis in a brand new light. He didn't know he was so animated and funny. I'm sure every high school principal wishes to keep his or her more jovial side somewhat restrained around students.
That may be so, but I brought Brian to the party not because he went to Orange High, but because he's registered to vote. This was an opportunity for an up-close and personal encounter with people who want to represent him.
I'm sure that the loyal opposition in Orange County politics is carrying on the same tradition and putting out the barbecue sauce and freedom fries for their friends as well. God bless 'em for doing so and a safe and happy Independence Day to all. Let's hope it's a peaceful transition into a summer of hot politickin' of the highest order, not the lowest common denominator.

‘K’ to stay, so Edwards must run
Wednesday, July 07, 2004
Massachusetts Sen. John Kerry had to choose our own John Edwards as his running mate for the presidency for all the obvious reasons, but we who know "inside basketball" understand the rarely admitted truth of the deal. It's really because of Mike Krzyzewski's decision to stay at Duke. This, after all, is that axis upon which we all spin.
The name Krzyzewski (pronounced CRY-zoo-skee) explains a great deal. From the original Latin it translates to "Cry before the zoo, then go water skiing." Although this is rarely understood, scholars write that this motto described the need of the coach to bathe in an ego-gratifying media frenzy just long enough to strike fear in his followers, then enjoy a long summer weekend -- perhaps including some water sports.
Just look at the execution of the event itself. Late in the week, the word leaks out that "K" might skip out of Durham to go Hollywood. "K" could stop this in an instant, but he allows it to feed on itself during a blissfully slow news cycle.
As the shock, mourning and demonstrations of K-love continue on the Duke campus, plans for celebration begin in Chapel Hill, where we also anticipate the announcement that Sen. Edwards, a UNC Law graduate, will likely be selected to run for the White House with John Kerry.
But when I called my brother exuberantly announcing that "K" might be headed to L.A., leaving the Cameron Crazies for a metropolitan statistical area of their peers, I said that the only reason for "K" to stay was a classic case of "Kold" feet due to ego gratification.
Sure enough, the all-guessing-all-the-time ESPN-oh-my-God-what-now weekend coverage of the devastation that would befall college basketball with the K-to-L.A. scenario must have been a nonstop TiVo moment for Krzyzewski.
Roy Williams even contributed, commenting on Krzyzewski's deep roots in the Durham community. Hmmm.
My husband and I were at a dinner at the Durham Marriot a couple of years ago. This was a benefit at which awards were given and Krzyzewski was a recipient, along with several brilliant scientists involved in the mapping of the human genome. Even objectively, Krzyzewski seemed out of place.
When he got up to accept his award, Krzyzewski talked about living in Durham for the last 20-plus years. He said he was very proud of his university and then he said something that I found beyond insulting.
"As I travel around the country for my job or otherwise, I don't even mind telling people I live in Durham," he said.
Wow. Deep roots. He doesn't even mind telling people he lives in Durham. He's willing to admit it and everything. Some endorsement.
It reminds me of Mack Brown of UNC's football past. Recall that Dean Smith ended his storied career at Carolina with timing specifically designed to grab the spotlight away from Mack Brown, or so you'd have thought to listen to all the crying Brown did about losing the headlines that fall.
But back to Krzyzewski ... the axis of all Blue Devil achievement ... just as the frenzy was gaining strength and getting ready to enter the how-could-you-do-this-to-us part of the cycle, K said "stay."
He said in his Monday press conference that there was no price for the allure of college basketball. Indeed, it would only be money that could draw Krzyzewski to Los Angeles, according to many.
What's the major difference between college and the pros? Crime and punishment.
I don't see how the usual "K" techniques of motivation and reprimand would work with professional players. It's not like you can scare them by threatening to take their scholarship away or call their parents to give them a good scold about obeying team rules.
Indeed, Krzyzewski has a reputation for turning the air blue in the locker room, but this would seem to have little impression on pro players who have an entire dictionary of obscenity hurled at them by courtside fans who paid a fortune for their tickets.
And the pros are not exactly princes off the court, either -- some of their "crimes" away from the game are, well, crimes. Planning for a guard to foul out of a game is one thing. Setting contingencies for his being sent to prison for life is quite another.
The up side for Carolina fans (like veep candidate John Edwards) is that Krzyzewski makes the perfect foil for UNC's rise to greatness. Had K gone Hollywood, our dominance over Dook over the next decade would have carried the asterisk of his absence. Now Roy can climb to the top of his profession as the conquering hero for the Heels and one who never "minded" saying he was from Chapel Hill.

Sidewalk dining not just for fun
Wednesday, July 14, 2004
When my dearest and I dine out the evening can quickly turn to a sendup of that wonderful Abbott & Costello classic routine, "Who's on First?" This is because along with our many shared interests and values, we have the common experience of slowly losing our hearing as we pass through middle age.
There are days it's frustrating, but much of the time we just look at each other and laugh, wondering how we get things done at all.
"I'm thinking about having that Cajun fish, but it might be too spicy and I'm chicken," I'll say.
"No, I don't feel like chicken," he'll respond. "Besides, I thought you wanted fish."
And all this before we ever heard of the now-famous Jessica Simpson "misunderstanding" of how Chicken-of-the-Sea could be a can of tuna.
The hearing problem we have is common among the middle aged and many in our baby boomer cohort are now seeking help for their nerve damage resulting from falling asleep to Jimi Hendrix at the maximum our speakers would allow. Our children are both wiser for and amused by our experience.
This type of problem, often characterized by tinnitus (ringing in the ear) is at it's worst in situations with the sort of low level buzz of sound that you encounter in a restaurant. It's sorting out the human voice from all that background sound that's the most difficult.
No one wants to constantly be asking a dinner companion to repeat the brilliant insight just offered, so we often find ourselves employing other strategies like lip reading and playing off of other people ... "Did you hear what he just said? I can't believe it ... say that again."
Of course, this backfires if the response is something innocuous like "I said it's been hot lately."
Restaurants like to encourage a sort of "happening" feeling, so they add to our suffering with music, and I don't mean Mozart.
There is relief available, however, and it is found in the simple act of stepping outside. When our children were young and getting fussy in a busy restaurant, we'd pick them up and step outside for a few minutes. It worked almost invariably to calm them. I'm convinced that change in sound is the reason why.
And all this brings me to the question of sidewalk dining in Chapel Hill. Although I appreciate the concerns about alcohol outside the control of the restaurant and the need to keep sidewalks passable for their intended purpose (safe pedestrian traffic), I think the town should consider another angle -- accommodating the disabled.
If I go into a restaurant and ask them to kill that background music or provide me with a booth that is quiet, they will likely not accommodate. Surely it can't be much longer before someone in my state of frustration over this makes some reference to buying a new bathing suit while dining with his lawyer and the misunderstanding leads to a lawsuit.
It could get worse in trying to clear it up ... referring to a Speed-o and getting a speedy trial instead.
If I needed a menu in Braille, I'd get it. If I needed a ramp to get in the door, I'd get it. But many restaurants cannot offer me a table on the sidewalk, even though they'd like to do so. That's just not fair.
It's no exaggeration to say that I avoid certain restaurants because of this sound issue. It really can ruin my restaurant experience and if I'm eating out with someone for business purposes ... it's nearly a lost cause. I sometimes think that this problem is how the follow-up confirmation memo was born.
Dear Joe, Thanks for lunch yesterday. I was happy to hear about your interest in hiring us. Please be assured that we want to meet your needs and will always pay great attention to your priorities.
By the way, when did you say you wanted to meet next? Who was the guy in your purchasing department you wanted me to call? What did you say your budget was? When do you want the project to be completed?
Yours sincerely ....
All I have to do is think about our middle-aged political leadership being in this situation and I get chills. All I want is to be able to understand the waiter when he asks if I want fries or a baked potato and not worry that I've accidentally ordered a baked tomato. Is that so wrong?

Dialing back the public dialogue
Wednesday, July 21, 2004
As we sit drinking our Wednesday morning coffee, the July 20 primary has passed. Many of us feel an urge right now ... an urge to take a shower.
No matter your party affiliation, you're probably shaking your head, wondering where the civility in politics has gone.
The simple issue-orientation of political dialogue has apparently circled the drain.
Just recently, the day after John Kerry chose our senator for his running mate, President Bush came to North Carolina and attacked John Edwards by name at a fund-raiser.
What's the main difference between Edwards and Vice President Cheney, Bush was asked. "Dick Cheney can be president," Bush snapped, then turned crisply to another reporter, pointed and commanded, "Next question?"
As my mom would say, it's not what he said that was so dismissive, it's how he said it. He knew it would make a good sound byte and so it did.
But are we helped as voters by that? Are we better informed or assured that Dick Cheney is more experienced, better prepared or more knowledgeable on key issues? Not really. We get the answer from our president that I used to get from my dad when he was feeling short-tempered or I was being a nuisance -- "Because I said so."
National politics are rough and tumble and so are the local goings-on. To read many of the letters to the editor in the past few weeks, you would think that there was only a merger referendum on the ballot. It may not be that, but it sure is a prism through which many races are being viewed.
The whole dynamic is just fascinating to me. All these people show up at public hearings -- several public hearings -- and make the same fear-mongering speeches about the horrible busing that merger will mean, the threat to neighborhood schools and the need to preserve quality.
Those running for school board seats make these speeches at multiple venues, get covered by this newspaper and others, get on television, radio and one of them then still claims at a recent forum to be horrified by a "secret process" to merge the districts.
And of course, opponents from both districts sit side by side with each other to ensure that their children will not have to do the same thing. It's bizarre.
Watching the candidates' forums for several races, I was struck by a couple of things. One was the poor quality of the productions themselves. Bad sound, worse lighting and setups that often made it look like the people I was watching were looking into the next room of my house ... all these things make it hard to stay with the program and really get involved in what the people are saying.
I'm not asking for million-dollar productions, just something better than flashlights, Dixie cups and string.
As we move away from the primary process and toward the fall, I'd really love it if our community could set itself apart by demanding excellence in the public square the same way we demand other things that are important in our civic life, things like integrity among public officials, college athletics and, oh yes, good schools.
It's not the sort of thing you can regulate because doing so might restrict speech, but surely by the sheer force of our will we can put down the off-topic-not-helping-anyone discussions of things like what kind of car a county commissioner drives.
I have a special admiration for all the folks who offered themselves for office this election cycle. It's been a confusing year of new dates and filing deadlines and a struggle to get the attention of voters who are at least confused about what the changes mean.
It's hard enough to run for office and keep yourself focused on issues and returning all the phone calls and trying to win the right way for the right reasons. When you can hardly figure out when to file and when and how everyone's going to vote ... well that's really over the top.
I recently interviewed Susan and Steve Halkiotis (school board member and county commissioner, respectively) on WCHL's signature program, "The Special Hour." We discussed the political tone these days (mostly local, some national) and how it's affecting public life. The show is supposed to air today and will be rerun over the weekend.
There's a lot to talk about in Orange County and some complex problems to deal with. Tough problems need complete sentences and paragraphs of thought, not snappy one-liners.
I hope that's what the voters have sent us this time around, but we'll have to stay tuned to know.

Primaries reveal simple complexity
Wednesday, July 28, 2004
Last Tuesday night I was invited to join the on-air team at WCHL as a political pundit of sorts, watching and talking about the election returns for our oddly timed primary and perfectly timed county school board race.
Since North Carolina's role in nominating a Democratic presidential candidate is, well, nothing, our primary got moved to July 20. This is an unfortunate decision for those of us who care something about voter turnout and simple awareness of the process.
Holding primaries and nonpartisan elections in May is a good idea for many reasons, but the simplest is that we're all still in "work/school" mode at that point. On July 20, we're all either at the beach or thinking about being there.
In the studio last week, the atmosphere was as I imagined it would be -- exciting, fast-changing and fun. D.G. Martin and I were the talking heads who were on the air to provide thoughtful perspective on the returns as they came in. We often found ourselves looking at each other and shrugging as we struggled to read some of the most confusing tea leaves in the history of Orange County politics. Unflappable Ron Stutts just kept rolling along.
Starting off with the Orange County school board race where we had the not-very-suspenseful determination of Keith Cook's fate. During an interview with WCHL from the Board of Elections, Cook was contrite and subdued.
He said he'll continue to look for ways to contribute to the community and I'm hopeful that he finds the right avenue for just that.
I said that night and will repeat here that I appreciate that Cook stayed in the race and offered himself to the voters for rejection if that was their decision. He didn't want to deprive them of the opportunity to spank him for cribbing a graduation speech this spring and so his punishment is now history. No one can accuse him of not taking his lumps.
Onto the real focus of the evening -- the County Commissioners' race, the voters and our reporting systems kept us guessing well past the 9 o'clock hour when we expected to sign off. I was starting to think that going door to door in those last precincts might be more efficient than waiting for the returns to come in.
Eventually, it became clear that the most divisive issue in recent memory -- that of school merger -- had brought us a somewhat rabidly active political season and an arguably mixed result. The re-election of Moses Carey may be thought of by some as being muted or canceled out by the rise of Valerie Foushee from the Chapel Hill-Carrboro school board to a seat on the Board of Commissioners. I would argue this result is a vote of acceptance for merger.
If you look at the composition of the new Board of Commissioners (Carey, Foushee, Steve Halkiotis, Barry Jacobs and Alice Gordon) you find perhaps the best-suited group possible to actually conduct the merger.
To be sure, Gordon is as opposed to merger as Carey is in favor of it. Score one in each direction. That adds up to due diligence.
Among the remaining three, you find the fairly neutral Jacobs (who was hoping to move on to Raleigh) and two clear experts in each of the school districts operations. Halkiotis has been a longtime employee (teacher, principal and now administrator) with Orange County Schools, and Foushee, a product of and board member serving the Chapel Hill-Carrboro schools.
Although Foushee was endorsed by the now-infamous NoMerger.org political action group, she has persistently stated that her position on merger related heavily on a fair process, not on one outcome versus another. That's a carefully crafted political position that screams, "I may have to change my mind once I'm on the hot seat."
Pam Hemminger, who was flatly against merger, was rejected by the voters.
Margaret Brown, who was non-committal on the issue, will surrender her seat on the board to Foushee.
But Moses Carey was unequivocal. He is a firm advocate for merger and believed that whether or not he was re-elected it must happen. After strapping that target on his back, the voters have effectively sent him back onto the battlefield to finish the job. The July 20 primary essentially decides the election as no Republican or Libertarian candidates have run successfully for the board in recent times.
With so clear a position on so white hot an issue, Carey can rightfully declare he has a mandate to get the ball rolling. That should make the upcoming months a study in reconciling policy and politics. There will certainly be noise, but a joyful noise it is.

An unexpected vote of confidence
Wednesday, August 04, 2004
In a season of jaw-dropping political outcomes, one need only look down the street and around the corner to find an astonishing expression of confidence in the two Orange County school districts.
Vice Presidential hopeful John Edwards and his wife Elizabeth have bought more than 100 acres of land in Carrboro, a decision they said was heavily driven by the area's excellent school system.
Now you don't suppose it's really possible that the Edwardses are not up to speed on the county's consideration of merger, do you?
It's worthy of note that when they bought this property, they likely thought they'd be developing it and moving in within a couple of years -- something that area Democrats hope will not be the case.
Well, not exactly anyway.
Should Edwards become vice president, he'll still need a residence and may, in fact, need more of a "compound" to help deal with the rush of media trucks and added security that will be traveling with him everywhere he goes.
Although people associate most of the attention being collected around the president, there is a whole media contingent that travels with the No. 2 guy as well.
And all that is good news for Carr-boro.
Reporters have to eat somewhere when they're on the road, they still need to get their dry cleaning done, occasionally go out to a concert and will often look for some local flavor to add to their coverage of a public official who's spending a few days at home.
Picture all those national reporters sipping coffee and working on their laptops at Weaver Street Market, filing their reports online thanks to the fiber optic backbone installed years ago by the little town that could.
Think of the enormous benefit to the many local businesses along Main Street in Carrboro and in Chapel Hill thanks to the need for reporters to file stories whether there's news or not.
My hope is that on the morning following a Democratic victory, the towns of Chapel Hill and Carrboro will appoint representatives to a community-based task force whose mission will be to envision the problems and opportunities that such a presence would present. They will likely be plentiful on both sides.
There may be no better example of why the Chinese word for crisis and opportunity are one and the same. Such a siege of national attention and added security concerns will make a Final Four weekend look sleepy by comparison.
As I type this sentence a small plane flies over my house. Would it really make sense to close Horace Williams Airport if the country's vice president lives nearby? I realize that Air Force Two isn't going to land there, but a helicopter sure could. Do we really want to see Interstate 40 shut down every time Edwards travels by car to and from Raleigh-Durham International?
Are you getting a headache yet?
What if he brings the boss over for the weekend once in a while? If Kerry and Edwards are elected and come anywhere near carrying this state, he may well want to base his North Carolina "war room" in the Edwardses' Carrboro encampment for the benefit of retaining that support. The very idea should give goose bumps to the Chamber of Commerce.
It doesn't necessarily get oh-so-quiet if the Kerry-Edwards ticket is rejected ... at least, not from the local perspective.
After all, Elizabeth Edwards has something of a reputation for being the queen of school volunteers. Seeing her appear at a school board meeting would really be extraordinary for parents and would probably strike fear in the hearts of officials of every stripe. She'd get a rock star's welcome.
And maybe we can get the Edwardses to invite Illinois senatorial hopeful Barak Obama to give a commencement address at UNC or one of the local high schools. Obama's speech at last week's Democratic Convention was breathtaking in both its effectiveness and sheer power from the pulpit. The guy is a star on the fast track to a strong career in politics and national leadership. He is going to be one exciting comet to watch.
But first, we'll follow the remarkable rise of the boy next door, John Edwards, the millworker's son whose new home will be in an old mill town -- Carrboro, the little town that could.

It’s homework time for all of us
Wednesday, August 11, 2004
This week, life returns to what passes for normal. In the interest of lessening our trauma, even the weatherman has cooperated by giving us almost fall-like temperatures. Some of the kids are back in school.
Apparently for the last time, the dog days of summer will mark the beginning of a new school year for our kids. Next year, during the summer that will truly seem endless, some students will have a full three months away from the books.
They'll need new picture IDs when they return in the fall of 2005 -- the teenagers especially (my 15-year-old son could change two shoe sizes in that amount of time). At least next summer he'll be old enough to get a job, so I can get something done during the day.
This particular summer has been especially high-speed, it seems to me. Just a minute ago we were all spinning around about Keith Cook's graduation speech. Now he's back to private citizenship and school life goes on without him.
And so for the waning weeks of summer we have the Olympics, the Republican Convention and then the major focus on the presidential campaign going into the fall.
No matter what your political stripe, I hope that everyone gets involved in the election somehow. I agree with those who say that Election Day should be a holiday. As a self-employed person, I can declare it one and likely will -- perhaps volunteering to drive folks to the polls or otherwise help to turn out the vote.
For now, though, my thinking is that as the kids return to school, it's time for all of us to do our homework on the upcoming fall exams. We need to learn more about all our candidates - local, state and federal. We need many opportunities to listen to all sides of issues during what I hope will be a rigorous debate season.
And as much as we all appreciate the difficulties that the elderly have in getting to the polls (and they are considerable for some) I am more concerned with potential first-time voters and what a tough nut they've been to crack when it comes to exercising their franchise.
Former Vermont Gov. Howard Dean may have put on a clinic in embarrassing, derailing behavior that will render a person "unelectable," but he became a formidable candidate when he allowed Gen-X bloggers to run his campaign and raise a ton of money through the Internet.
And Dean's campaign impact wasn't just on the money side -- he seemed to reignite the belief that so many of us had nearly lost in good old-fashioned grass-roots campaigning. I was at Weaver Street Market in Carrboro one day last winter and there was a guy sitting outside at one of the picnic tables. He wasn't doing anything but holding a "Dean for America" sign.
Apparently, that was his job as a campaign worker: to sit in a visible place holding that sign. I looked at it and thought, "a believer."
That's what is missing so often in modern-day elections and politics, those rare candidates who inspire people to believe in them. The last politician who inspired that feeling for me was Bobby Kennedy and I never got a chance to vote for him, due to my youth and his untimely death.
And after Watergate and the blistering Clinton years, it's hard to feel that way again, that you can believe in someone and dare to hope that major change is possible.
But this year, these are the things we must dare to do - dreaming and hoping. These are necessary elements for progress. The process is the part that I do believe in, despite the Florida 2000 debacle; I focus on what has happened since.
America has awakened (no matter your political perspective) to the fact that every vote matters. There's a predisposition to argue that if only Al Gore had done this or that, he would have been elected, but instead I focus on the reality that there is something big at stake in every presidential election ... we just don't know what it will be.
And this is true in every election on some scale. If it weren't, they wouldn't put us in that little booth and say "you decide."
So it's off to the library (or your Web browser) for you adults of age to choose. Finals are scheduled for Nov. 2. No late entries and no excuses. Get your homework done.

Keeping watch on hurricane alphabet
August 18, 2004
All weekend long, when I walked over to the wall and flipped a switch, a light came on. And I was grateful.
Last Friday (the 13th) was my birthday and I spent some significant part of it dreading the arrival of Hurricane Charley. It is a hurricane watch that just reminded me too much of Fran and Floyd -- those storms of the letter "F" that did so much damage.
The early storms in a hurricane season soften us up with soaking rains and as we heave sighs of relief that a drought is ended, we forget the other end of that problem -- soil saturation.
Fran would have done plenty of damage to the Triangle no matter what, but the soaking we took from previous storms in the weeks leading up to Fran were the ones that set us up for the sucker punch -- the devastation of the many fallen trees, some of which were irreplaceable.
And what a devastating storm Charley turned out to be. The first tempting and wary word I remember about Charley came from one of the area's more experienced meteorologists, who observed that forecasters use many computer models to predict a storm's path and they all seemed to eerily agree. This is nearly unheard of, he said.
When I heard that observation, I thought how likely it seemed that this storm would be hitting on or about Friday the 13th and how predictions of track will mean nothing to those many thousands of residents that would have to run for higher ground. Their power will go out. They'll have little to go on if the storm changes direction.
As you look at fatalities from storms like this over the course of the 20th century, it's impressive to see how the numbers have been driven steadily downward -- a textbook lesson of earlier and earlier warnings and dramatic improvements in communications.
You can visit any number of major media Web sites now, for example, and sign up for a severe storm e-mail alert that will send you an e-mail if there's severe weather headed toward you or a region elsewhere that you care about.
Obviously meteorology has seen significant advances over the past many years, benefiting from satellites, computer technologies and database sharing.
That said, when the emergency hits, there's no substitute for the people on your street, in your community who are up to speed on each local area's immediate concerns.
I remember listening to local radio after Hurricane Fran and feeling so relieved just by the sound of local voices talking about what stores were open, what streets were impassable and where we could get ice or batteries.
Indeed, sometimes the simplicity of a fairly low-tech system is what makes it endure. Oddly enough, if our power had gone out, I'd still be able to get onto the Internet via dialup, because I remember how to use a modem. It's cool to have a wireless network, but it's better to understand how all that stuff works so you can fall back on the "old fashioned way" of doing it.
I always loved the story frequently told by a pilot friend of mine of how the Russians laughed at American scientists for crowing about inventing a pen that could write in the weightless environment of outer space. Ridiculous, they said -- why not use a pencil?
Why indeed. I got an e-mail from my pilot friend on Tuesday morning. He's in central Florida -- near Orlando. He writes:
"Everything is a mess. Police are stationed at the few gas stations pumping gas, and the super market in Haines City [up the road a piece] has police at the door to let only a few shoppers in at a time.
"The supermarkets in our town have no perishables at all. No produce, meat, cheese, eggs, etc. Ice is in short supply and very high demand.
"The house survived. We only lost a lime tree, which is small potatoes in comparison to many of our extended neighbors. Lots of trees are down, plenty of them on roofs which they have perforated."
With all that is wrong, Jamie got his power back, can send e-mail and is focused on the right stuff -- he's down one lime tree, his family is OK and the roof is intact.
I don't know what the rest of the alphabet has in store for us, but it seems to me that A-B-C has been quite enough.

Terminal C rebuilding unnecessary
Wednesday, August 25, 2004
Flying into and out of RDU is a lot better than it has been over the past few years. Many of the construction issues either caused by or exacerbated by the Sept. 11 attacks are worked out now; parking in particular is back to the more manageable side of the equation now that the garage is functioning normally.
Last year on Sept. 11, I sat in my car at the entrance to Terminal C awaiting my husband's return (from New York City, actually). You're not supposed to be allowed to do that, but at 9 or 10 in the evening of Sept. 11, 2003, I sat for about 20 to 25 minutes with no one asking me to move along or what flight I was waiting for. No one asked me anything.
The same would not be true on the other side of the airport. When Rick flies on other airlines, I must circle until he arrives ... there's no waiting in a stopped car at the entrance. They're polite about it, but move along, please.
At Terminal C, the parking security effort had gone to bed for that night, a chilling inconsistency at the front door of the American Airlines terminal.
According to Carrboro activist Jeff Vanke, that same Terminal C is the site of a pending boondoggle of serious proportion. A proposed expansion project will level the terminal, replacing it with one of better design, planners say.
Vanke says he smells a rat in the plan, noting that the new terminal is expected to provide an easier means for baggage-free passengers to proceed to their gates and not much else on the innovative features side of things.
For this you need to level the building and spend upwards of $350 million to rebuild?
According to Airport Authority Chairman Tim Clancy, the answer is yes. Anticipated increases in security might mean tripling the number of lines with passengers moving through, creating a bottleneck in the hallway that leads from ticketing to the gates.
Admittedly, it's a narrow passageway at present, and Vanke has become engaged in controversy before that would have seen little ink but for a slow news cycle. This time last year he got his knickers in such a twist about a piece of art hanging in Mayor Mike Nelson's empty office (the mayor was out of the country), Vanke decided to run for mayor himself, launching a write-in campaign after the filing deadline.
This time, however, Vanke just finds himself hopping mad that Airport Authority Chairman Clancy is also the owner of Clancy & Theys Construction Co. Obviously, he expects Clancy to land himself a contract in the whole deal and make himself rich.
If Clancy does and we're all asleep at the wheel, then shame on us. But even if his own business is excluded from bidding (as it obviously should be), the need for a wider hallway is far from sufficient reason to put travelers through untold numbers of years of aggravation while such a construction project is undertaken. It's a reason to spend a few bucks to widen the hallway, nothing more.
I appreciate that a new design might be preferable. Terminal C was originally built as an American Airlines hub, where a high percentage of passengers would change planes while going elsewhere.
That means there was less concern for passengers whose flights originated or terminated here. Because of a variety of economic factors, things have changed in the use of that terminal.
Lots of other things have changed, too. Thousands of people have relocated to this state. As our area has grown, so, too, has the need for new infrastructure outside the airport. You can build a fair number of schools and sidewalks and parks for $350 million.
We live in an overweight society. A little more walking by the business traveling grown-ups to pay for a few more gymnasiums, playgrounds and better science classrooms for kids seems like a pretty good idea to me.
More flights originate and terminate here because RDU is no longer just a stopover on the way to somewhere else.
We're a place to go, a place to visit and a place to stay.
I'd rather invest in people than people-movers and solve the issues of congestion and delay at the airport the old fashioned way: with good signage, effective use of communications and information and an eye toward keeping the cost of redesign (and all its inconvenience to travelers) to a minimum.
Flying Southwest Airlines out of RDU is a logistical mess, but the people who work for that airline make it so easy and so fun, I forget about walking what seems like miles from the gate to my baggage. Hey, I've been sitting for hours anyway.

Parade about publicity, not pride
Wednesday, September 01, 2004
When your motives are self-serving ratings (not service or greater community purpose) even your devoted fans will yawn.
After wearing thin his publicity drum on one of the most powerful radio stations in the state, WDCG's Bob Dumas was able to "drag" out only enough fans to perhaps make for a crowded bus stop as the shock jock's absurd "heterosexual pride parade" was conducted last Saturday.
For anyone who's been a fan of the "Showgram" on G105 in the morning, there's no news to be found in Dumas' naughty boy act.
He deliberately provokes his guests, his co-host and his audience on a regular basis. That's what the show is -- a long running series of pranks, talking blather and call-us-if-you-ever-went-skydiving-naked discussions. If you really miss seventh grade, you should tune in.
When he's criticized, Dumas likes to point out that he has (single-handedly if you hear him tell it) raised oh-so-very much money for charity. It's a peculiarity that the sick children who have benefited from G105's fund raising would be ill-advised to listen to the program during non-fund-raising time. It's like pornographers raising money for abused women.
There's a fair amount of chatter online and around the water cooler about whether or not it is intolerant to hold a pride parade for heterosexuals.
Those of us, gay and straight, who have marched in parades or participated in other demonstrations to advance civil rights understand that this stunt was, in fact, a rather sophomoric spoof on gay pride parades. The question I hear bandied about is this issue of harm; that is, does this event actually do injury to gay people or their supporters?
Frankly, I think that the sheer insignificance of the whole thing is a terrific example of the marketplace of ideas.
Dumas and his posse had an idea and he promoted it heavily on his radio show. And the number of people who showed up was so few, they likely would not have filled a Chapel Hill Transit bus.
So, his idea was a loser. He certainly can't blame the weather or lack of public awareness.
Contrast that with an idea for a pancake breakfast fund-raiser that local residents Steve & E.J. Manton brought to a reality recently at Mama Dip's kitchen.
Inspired to get involved politically after seeing Michael Moore's "Fahrenheit 9/11," the Mantons were talking in their car the next morning. "We can't just talk about this," E.J. told her husband. "We have to do something." They talked about holding a fund-raising event and doing it at a local restaurant.
The car soon steered itself over to Mama Dip's.
The Mantons had no experience at political action or fund raising so they talked to people who do. They got advice from the Kerry campaign about how to properly handle and document the money they raised. They solicited the support of their circle of friends and asked them to reach out to their circle of friends.
The Mantons don't have a morning radio show that reaches tens of thousands of listeners. They sent out some e-mails. Their friends did likewise.
In a three-week timespan, they pulled together an event that featured great food, donated musical talent and the dedication of dozens of volunteers.
Five hundred people came out for pancakes and politics. The event raised $47,500.
So Bob Dumas with daily access to thousands of people couldn't get more than 75 or so to show up and laugh at a pathetic stunt. The Mantons pulled together more than five times that number and got them to part with money for a cause greater than themselves.
It would be grand if Dumas could learn something from this and perhaps get his station involved in a voter registration drive across the Triangle. With the young audience the station enjoys, one would suppose that such an effort would be welcomed by members of both political parties.
Of course, it won't make anyone angry or stir up controversy, so I'm betting that Dumas and company will take a pass on that idea. Time to go make some water balloons and wait for a passer-by.

2003 Columns

2005-01-05T08:22:00.000-08:00

A brand new year, but not a new day
Wednesday, January 01, 2003
A new year has arrived, but it appears a new day has yet to dawn on our beloved Orange County Schools. It looks like the new board is choosing to define itself, in part, by bodily functions and how they'll guide the school district.
New board member Randy Copeland apparently believes that the district's choice of a new superintendent should be one that works through his intestinal tract without incident. Rather than using his head and contacting the references provided by each of the candidates, Copeland wanted to "go with his gut."
This innovative new approach to personnel selection still managed to "eliminate" candidates number one and number two, thereby constipating Copeland's strategy, but we have to give him credit for trying to push through a new idea.
Don't be too hard on the new board. They just arrived from the North Pole, where no one ever heard of the Open Meetings Law.
I take board members (old and new) at their solemn word when they declare that because there were no reporters in the room with them, they thought it was OK to vote. The problem is the practical application.
On those rare occasions when school boards go into permissible closed sessions, it's often at the end of a school board meeting. Historically, Orange County's meetings have run into the wee hours of the morning, so a closed session could end at one o'clock in the morning - long after local reporters have filed their stories or turned into pumpkins.
So when the board emerges from closed session and then votes on firing a principal or buying property or something that's really big news, the reporter depends on the integrity of the system of doing things to get the news out to the citizens.
We don't all have the "Copeland gut" to go by in these situations. We parents and ordinary folk need rules and procedures to follow along on our song sheet. Rules like keeping minutes and voting in open session - even if no one is looking.
This brings me to the bodily function of hearing - as with having a deaf ear. The board has not distinguished itself in the way that it hears things. For example, I reported on these pages some months ago that now-former board member David Kolbinsky had not paid his property taxes in this county - for several years.
This, according to my legal sources, was more than sufficient cause to remove Kolbinsky from the school board. This should have been done whether he had five weeks, five months or five years remaining on his term.
But somehow the Orange County board couldn't hear that information. Though it never referred the matter formally to the State Board of Education, that board's attorney was certainly aware of the facts. He was a source for my reporting on the story.
How is it then that the matter simply died quietly? Despite her insistence that the public should be heard on the selection of a new superintendent, then-chairwoman Dana Thompson did not lift a finger to get the Kolbinsky matter to the state board and therefore back to Orange County for a public hearing. It would seem she didn't want her fingerprints on his removal.
Funny how one thing should be so public and the other so private. But that's the problem with the "gut" strategy. One little hiccup in your diet, and everything turns to ... well, you get the idea.
All of these instances lead one to think that we've just swapped some body parts around and are stuck with the same old system. We no longer have Bob Bateman's backslapping system to tell us who's up and who's down in the school district. Instead we have Randy Copeland's vapor cloud. Both systems stink.
Rather than a vision for better and more accountable schools from fresh new candidates, we have Libby Hough telling us that e-mails circulated by the board discussing superintendent candidates were really just chat about how great everyone was getting along.
She couldn't "see" any importance in the few comments about the candidates. Rather than vision we should trust the blind copy of an e-mail or two.
The good news is that Rick Kennedy, a former board member, is wrong about his observation that "it's the children who suffer" for all of this monkey business. The children of our school district are those affected the very least by these high jinx.
Teachers and parents pick up the slack for nonsense like this. They make do with what they have, ignoring promises of newer, better equipment or hiring new staff members to reduce class sizes. They're used to being jerked around by pathetic political squabbles over whether or not to sod the football field because of a 100-year drought.
And while we're taking about body parts, they've learned to turn a deaf ear to the empty promises of putting the academic needs of children before all else. They're the ones who have to actually deliver on some of these lofty ideas, so they're trying actually get on with it.
So while Randy Copeland waits for the next bubble to work its way though his system and onto the school board's agenda, my son may go another entire marking period without a permanent teacher in his Honors Economics, Law and Politics class at Cedar Ridge High school.
Pass the Alka-Seltzer.

Board foundering in controversy
Wednesday, January 08, 2003
All kidding aside, I guess I owe Randy Copeland an apology. Last week, I attributed a comment to Copeland that apparently was not his and I should clear up right away that it seems he was not the Orange County school board member who said he wanted to "go with his gut" when choosing a superintendent.
Who did or didn't make the comment is long past important now. This board is already in much deeper water. Worse, it has responded to its first serious error - an illegal vote, taken during a closed session - by looking outside the seven seats at the table for blame.
When not pointing angrily at one board member who has been talking to the newspapers, the new board has reacted to its error by shaking its collective fist at the media for the unthinkable crime of reporting the news.
Most elected officials run for office to serve their community and have the best of intentions when they say they wish reporters would just go away and let them do what they were elected to do. There's no doubt that it's a difficult dance when, for example, a board is trying to negotiate a real estate deal and wants to keep the location and price of land quiet until the deal is done.
The publicity of a pending deal can affect prices overnight, so the board is allowed to discuss these things in closed session. That doesn't mean secrecy that's never breached; it's just a degree of discretion that's permitted because it is necessary.
Likewise, in making a big hiring decision, the board is allowed some time to talk things over candidly among themselves. Talking, as most of us know, isn't doing. In order to act, the board must come out into the sunshine for all to see.
Evidence of how badly the board has misunderstood this is found in a draft press release that new board member Libby Hough circulated among her colleagues last week.
The board, said the release, "would like to address the public directly" in response to letters and stories that have been run in this newspaper regarding the botched superintendent selection vote.
At the outset, this presents a ridiculous pair of suggestions - that a press release is needed for the board to express itself to the public and that this (or any other) newspaper should oblige by running the release unedited, then sit and be quiet.
"It is true that the process has been a long and arduous one, and that there have been missteps by individuals and the board as a whole," the release goes on. "However, it is also true that there are different interpretations of what has transpired over the last few months. It is our intent to address each of those concerns," writes Hough.
"However, at this point it is not constructive to continue this dialogue in the newspaper. The issue has taken on a life of its own and has become counterproductive."
Did you think you were seeing things? It was at this point I started rubbing my eyes, too. But there it is - a press release that indicates elected officials should not continue a dialogue with the public through the newspaper because doing so is "counterproductive."
The interpretation: We now announce through the press that we will no longer be talking to the press about this issue because it's controversial. We want to speak only directly to the voters.
I guess we can each expect a phone call then?
And it gets better. Later on, the not-yet-released release says, "It is the opinion of the board that further discussion of this issue should happen in a public setting with all board members present and with the assistance of an unbiased third party."
As long as that party is not embodied in a reporter, I guess.
The controversy the board is now swimming in up to its collective neck is one that has an illegal secret vote at its core. To try and dig its way out of the controversy, it is convening its collective mind to form a collective opinion and is doing all of this via e-mail - outside the public's purview.
And all of this is to form a group opinion about how to tell the newspaper that future discussion on the illegal secret vote will happen in public with all board members present.
Are you keeping up?
It's too bad these elected advocates for our children don't take the time to read the instrument of their contempt - the newspaper. If they had, they would have educated themselves throughout last fall on how to avoid a public relations disaster.
All they had to do is read story after story of Marcia Conner's non-compliant deals to award contracts and her public relations management-by-press-release-take-no-questions strategy. When she actually did live interviews with reporters, she looked like a hostage blinking the word "t-o-r-t-u-r-e" with her eyelids.
Conner is not a person who enjoys the spotlight. One wonders what the heck she's doing in the job she has, but that's another day's rant.
That parallel universe brings the Orange board's murky question into specific relief - if you don't want the task of advocating for kids' education and making multimillion dollar decisions in the public arena, then leave the most public of forums (elected office) and volunteer quietly elsewhere.
Cursing the darkness won't affect the right of citizens to own and use flashlights and it's a sorry example for teaching civics.

Twenty-one years and counting
Wednesday, January 15, 2003
Forgive me. I feel old today.
Yesterday, my older son turned 21. Now, how in the world did that happen?
It seems like only yesterday that he kicked me to tell me he was on the way, arriving a week early in a horrific snowstorm. The night I labored was the very night the Florida Air Flight 99 hit the 14th Street Bridge in Washington, D.C., and slipped into the icy Potomac River.
The same storm that landed all those people in that freezing water had my husband and me skating up the roads to Durham County Hospital at one in the morning.
Brian's birth was an event that transformed my entire life. When they handed his squirming little body to me, I grew a steely spine and the size of my heart tripled. I became someone's mom.
And I developed weird body parts.
Eyes grew into the back of my head. Forget those lipstick cameras that monitor everything going on in your house. Nothing's more effective than a mom calling down the hall, "Whatever you're doing in there ... knock it off!"
The occasional knot in my stomach was an extremely reliable early warning system that what I was seeing might lead to trouble. Brian was a very easy first child - very cautious, not a climber and quite content to leave me ample evidence when he'd gotten into mischief.
When Brian was born, Ronald Reagan was president, interest rates were double-digit and the popular strategy for women to get ahead in business was to dress like men, show no "weakness" and work 60 hours a week.
I didn't care that most of my friends were dropping out of work long enough to have a baby and bounce right back. I stayed home with Brian and played full-time mommy.
We ate more peanut butter and jelly than steak and drank more apple juice than champagne. We spent many, many nights of reviewing the channels just one more time for what to watch, instead of paying for a sitter and going out to dinner and a movie.
In elementary and middle school, we stayed on top of the homework and knew almost all of his friends and their parents. We stayed in Brian's life, though I'll bet he often wished we'd back up just a little.
In high school, we let go. We let him make mistakes. We watched him stumble and recover. I once spoke to his biology teacher at Orange High and thanked her for giving him a terrible grade for one marking period. She looked stunned.
"He didn't do the work," I told her. "He earned this grade and I'm grateful that you gave it to him. Meeting a standard is a very important thing - it's the only way you learn what matters," I said.
In later years, we did things that caused some of our friends to scratch their heads. When Brian turned 16, we didn't give him a car for his birthday, as so many of our friends had done with their kids.
They also complained mightily about the frequent accidents their kids had due to inexperience or the many bad drivers that seemed to hover around their kids.
None of this makes my husband or me a hero. None of it means we'll write a best-seller about the brilliant idea we had - that parents should sacrifice if necessary to give themselves to their kids.
To us, this was ordinary stuff. This is what our parents did.
No, Brian is my hero. He's smart, funny, charming and handsome. He's found his way through N.C. State and will graduate this year. When he made the dean's list last semester, I called everyone I know and screamed it into the phone.
His friends, many of whom he's had since his first day at Grady Brown Elementary, are great people.
That makes all that peanut butter and jelly and apple juice taste a lot like steak and champagne in my memory bank.

Carrboro: A little town that could
Wednesday, January 22, 2003
They think they can. They think they can. And so, when the opportunity presents itself, the good people of Carrboro speak out occasionally to raise one fist in the air - to say "no."
Many have opined about this. Many have dismissed the exercise. But when considering the record, Carrboro should be given its due. In short - the little town that could has been right about some pretty important stuff.
Just one example: When the announcement came that Time-Warner and America Online were going to merge into one gargantuan company, the little town of Carrboro, a Time-Warner franchisee, said "Uh, not so fast."
It so happens that franchisees had to vote on the merger to approve it. Carrboro took that opportunity to speak its mind about the perfectly lousy service that its citizens have endured under the Time-Warner regime.
While Time-Warner-AOL officials were gushing about the awesome synergy that the new enterprise would produce, Carrboro was asking a few questions. Simple questions, like these:
How can you build an empire when you can't get the buzz off the channel that carries our meetings?
What measures will be taken to ensure that customers can use other forms of Internet access if they don't want to use AOL?
When will Carrboro residents get a straight answer about their rates and when will those rates be aligned with service in Chapel Hill?
I went to a lot of meetings back then as I was covering the Board of Aldermen. I heard a Time-Warner representative stand on a perch of shifting sand and tell one half-truth after another to the board, trying to get the little town that could to say that it would (approve the merger).
Time-Warner officials handed me a line of baloney about not being able to give discounted services to qualified senior citizens who live in Section 8 subsidized housing. They told me they couldn't do this because it would amount to discrimination.
I called other Time-Warner offices around the country. Several of them told me the same thing - that discounting basic cable to poor people is discrimination. The FCC, however, said that the cable industry is encouraged to do that very thing.
If you owned 100 shares of Time-Warner-AOL stock at the time of the merger, it was worth around $10,000. Today, it's worth less than $1,500, give or take a chip off the old computer.
With all the talk about developing high-speed access and all its lofty ideals of great expansion delivered through the efficiencies of joining the companies together, the big bad behemoth ignored the one little bitty thing that would make all the difference - customer service and a quality product.
So grand and so huge is the vast merged company that the sound on the Board of Aldermen meeting still stinks, and there's apparently absolutely no one who cares or seems able or willing to fix it.
This programming provides an important connection between the local government and the people. It helps the Aldermen be heard and understood by those citizens who can't always get to their meetings - the elderly, the disabled.
The little town that could is a place that is especially attentive to the needs of those citizens - not just because they vote ... because they contribute, they matter for the most basic reasons - the most human reasons.
Carrboro has made the journey that our forefathers perhaps hoped for but never codified in the Constitution, that famous framework for freedom. That most essential American document outlines how Americans' freedom is protected from tyranny and sets out how the people shall empower (and limit) the government.
It says nothing about how a government might empower the citizens to build a community. This, indeed, is what the little town that could seeks to do through its leaders - elected and otherwise.
So when Carrboro weighs in on issues as vast as racism, free speech, war and peace, it is speaking to the record of its own history. A community, after all, is a social construct, one that can learn from its own history and void its repetition.
When Mayor Mike Nelson suits up as Don Quixote and starts talking about tilting at a media giant, it's not because he expects the world to tremble at his disapproval or awaits a call from CNN to appear on Larry King to explain himself.
It's because when he votes, he's supposed to believe that he's voting for the right thing - the thing that's best for Carrboro and for the larger community. It's because he's the mayor of the little town that could. It's his job to step out and encourage the train to think it can make it up the hill and carry the people along to a better tomorrow.
Nelson and his colleagues will make decisions along the way that will stir things up, that's for sure. If Steve Case, AOL Chairman, had just listened to Carrboro, his customer, and focused on improving the quality of the most basic cable product (the picture, the sound and restoring service quickly after outages) he might not be looking for a new career right now.

Watching watchers: What to watch
Wednesday, January 29, 2003
The more things change, the more they remain the same.
A group of frustrated Orange County Schools' parents have banded together to form a group called "Board Watch." Their goal is said to be the protection of sunshine in board operations, but I wonder.
If Bert L'Homme were picking out drapes for the King Street office, would these folks be designing their new Web site? I don't think so.
The group's spokeswoman, Jackie Wolfe, said that following the board's decision to re-open the search for a new superintendent was announced, a group of parents collected in the parking lot to plan their next move.
Yes, their next move - as with a game of chess. Recall that the group first went to that meeting with 20 speakers lined up and petitions signed by 450 people. They went there to win the day, advocating for their candidate.
When the board, to its singular credit, was not intimidated by this show of force, the armies retreated and planned a flanking move, just outside the windows of the boardroom.
When they lost - and probably only because they did lose - they decided they were "concerned" about how the board does business. It's baloney.
If they were concerned with how the board does its business, they'd have made this decision and announcement before that meeting - before the outcome was known.
This ball of wasted energy could have stood proudly and scolded the board, admonishing that this was not about the outcome, but of the process. That would have been an effort to get behind, a force to be reckoned with.
But first, they thought they'd try one last time to use the very thing that persuaded the board against L'Homme as a candidate. First, they tried a full-court press of political pressure.
All these parents are to be commended for caring enough about their schools and their kids to go to the lengths they did in trying to get a quality superintendent candidate into the job.
And they should all be ashamed of themselves if they pick up their marbles and go home now. The fact is that lining up row after row of supporters and packing meetings is an absolutely wrong-headed approach to getting a superintendent of choice hired.
Far be it from me to be the great defender of the Orange County school board, but this time, the board's collective "gut feeling" was right. They were collectively repulsed by the amount and kind of pressure being brought to bear on L'Homme's behalf - most especially that brought by member Dana Thompson while she served as the board's elected leader.
It's the role of the board chair to run the meetings, to assure fairness and to facilitate the development of consensus to every degree possible. This must often be done at the expense of the chairman's own opinion, which explains why this type of leadership is not for everyone.
If you're a person of strong or extreme views, subordinating them for the greater good of the group is sometimes too difficult.
By most accounts, Thompson repeatedly used her position to manipulate the process in favor of L'Homme's candidacy. Whether or not any of her colleagues might have seriously considered L'Homme, they responded as hostages to these tactics. They didn't like the "or else" that seemed looming at the end of the sentence.
Good for them. A point too often lost in this bitter debate is the role of L'Homme himself. Where was he during all this?
Assuming the most innocent explanation, that of a whirlwind of spontaneous support from all those parents, L'Homme should have held his hand up and said, "thanks, but no thanks," to their offers to lobby for him.
No, he should have said ... if I win this job, it will have to be on my own merits. If I get this chance, I will have to have a relationship of shared goals with the board and I will have to win their trust.
You don't win trust at political gunpoint, he should have told them. I'll be the board's only direct-report employee. They must have confidence in me in order for me to be effective over the long term.
Show me your support after I earn the job myself, he should have said. Come to meetings, raise money at your schools, volunteer in classrooms and above all else, care about the kids who are not your own.
Care about them with as much fervor as you would your own. That's what will make your school system strong, not one person versus another at the helm of the administration. Focus your energy there and I'll do my best to earn the board's trust and confidence. Though I may fail, you will not and yours is the more important victory.
That's what he should have said. Those are things that a visionary leader who is interested in empowering parents would say. Those are things that help people focus on a fair process, not on winning.
And since they are things that L'Homme apparently thought were secondary to his professional ambition, I applaud the school board for its decision, despite the fact that they stumbled on their way to it.

Columbia's rainbow of scientists
Wednesday, February 05, 2003
In September 2001, I received an e-mail from my uncle. It was one of his typical "So there I was ..." missives about his computer giving him trouble. He's a wonderful storyteller and normally I would have hung on every word, enjoying his silicon adventure.
Instead, I immediately wrote a terse response. "Turn on your television," I said. It was Sept. 11.
My cousin, his daughter, was supposed to be in an airplane the next day, leaving on a trip abroad. I called my uncle to be sure I had the day right. For us, at least, there was that consolation - Margaret wouldn't be stranded in New York, waiting for America to fly again so she could return to Seattle.
Saturday morning, as Rick and I watched "Ripley's Believe it or Not" (yes, really), my brother called. He said the shuttle had lost contact with Houston. It looked like another horrible day was before us, and so it was.
I was at work in downtown Durham when Challenger exploded 30 seconds after it launched. We gathered in the conference room to watch the news coverage, to see if what we'd heard could possibly be true.
As we watched the terrible images, one of my co-workers became more and more upset. She didn't know any of these people, but she was connected to that mission. Before working for Central Carolina Bank, she was a teacher.
In a nutshell, that's why this story commands the spectacular coverage on the front page of Sunday's Herald-Sun and other newspapers. Almost every American can watch this tragedy and be affected in some way.
When I was a girl, there was Amelia Earhart to admire. Women who were pilots or doctors or great scientists were women you usually could name. They were the rare exceptions.
Earhart was an especially difficult example, since she was famous mostly for getting lost.
And so for me, the shuttle program was all about the veritable rainbow of people who were on that flight. Dark-skinned and light, men and women, surgeons and scientists - all searching for a new discovery, a new truth.
And now, we'll all learn new truths about the space shuttle and the people who flew it. Don't let anyone tell you that such flights are routine. That's the guilt of the national television news media talking.
I was in Central Florida in November, arriving at my hotel just minutes before a nighttime launch. The clerks were helpful in hurrying our check-in so that we could go outside to watch. We were excited. So were they.
On Saturday, my friend Jamie, a resident of the town of Winter Haven, was working along with his 8-year-old daughter, making breakfast. As is their routine on a launch day, they were watching the NASA channel. Jamie's daughter commented that the big boom was going to wake up mommy, who was sleeping in.
When Jamie, a pilot and flight instructor, heard that Mission Control had lost contact, he dropped into parent mode and changed the channel. Mommy's lazy Saturday was interrupted as he went into the bedroom to watch the events unfold.
How is it that seven people's deaths can be so compelling, so devastating and so important to the future of America's mission of scientific discovery?
America's role in the world of science and innovation cannot come without tragedy. Exploration is for all of us, and bearing the cost of risk is ours, too. The events of September 2001 and those of Saturday reminded us of our capacity to bear the burden of being free - to think, to question, to express and to explore.

Great fun: Go ahead, read my mail
Wednesday, February 12, 2003
Probably the best part about this job is the really great stuff that people write to me about. After all this time and so much experience with it, I still love getting mail as much as I did when I was seven.
Months ago, I wrote a column about the re-opening of Allen &Son's Barbecue, which is located right near my home. I went on about how much we enjoy that fabulous establishment and how gratifying it was to see the community helping out the Allen family in getting the doors re-opened.
Months later, I received an envelope in the mail that contained a lovely letter from a member of the Allen family, expressing gratitude for the kind words. The family was very appreciative for those who helped them re-open the restaurant and was pleased that I'd noticed that.
So often good news like that - neighbors helping each other - slips past us and is thought of as routine. It certainly has trouble meeting the standard of what's newsworthy.
I got a letter from one reader in Pittsboro that was response to a column I'd written about traffic cameras and the automated issuance of citations.
"I, too, received one of Charlotte's citations," wrote the reader, who asked that her name be withheld. "The photo showed a dark, small car at the intersection ... showing my license number."
She called the N.C. Department of Motor Vehicles immediately to complain. She and her car have never visited the Queen City, she said. How could they have this "evidence"?
She received an apology and a quick "we'll fix it," she said, but wanted to drop me a line to let me know that my concern about a hypothetical situation turned out to be exactly what had happened to her.
And how many people would have just paid that ticket if they'd ever been anywhere near Charlotte, she asked. Awful good question.
I get lots of funny e-mail when I've managed to strike a reader's funny bone. Barbara Robertson enjoyed a column I wrote about the humor of Southwest Airlines employees and was kind enough to share a few that she'd heard of:
From a Southwest Airlines employee: "Welcome aboard Southwest Flight XXX to YYY. To operate your seat belt, insert the metal tab into the buckle, and pull tight. It works just like every other seat belt; and, if you don't know how to operate one, you probably shouldn't be out in public unsupervised."
And another: "Heard on Southwest Airlines just after a very hard landing in Salt Lake City: The flight attendant came on the intercom and said, "That was quite a bump, and I know what y'all are thinking. I'm here to tell you it wasn't the airline's fault, it wasn't the pilot's fault, it wasn't the flight attendant's fault ... it was the asphalt!"
There are days when you just need a good laugh to get you going. I certainly thank Barbara for jumpstarting my Wednesday a little while ago with that one.
Then there are letters that are not so much fun. While I appreciate the freedom that anyone has to express their views on these pages - that's an important role of any community newspaper - a line is crossed when attacks are inappropriately personal and irrelevant to the public matter at hand.
There's an old saying in the legal profession. If you have the facts on your side, argue the facts. If the facts are against you, argue the law. If the facts and the law are against you, raise hell.
If the letter from Nancy Perera that appeared in this newspaper last week is any indication, I'd say that Bert L'Homme's supporters (the "board watchers") are definitely in the "raise hell" stage of their strategy. To prove what a great and inspiring leader L'Homme (the former superintendent candidate) would have been for the Orange County schools, his supporters now apparently have taken to dredging up old (and false) accusations made against an unrelated third party, hope the appearance of a "motive" will smear me in some way.
Pathetic.
It makes me long for the grilling I get from some of Orange County's most devoted extremists who drop me a line or two before the sun comes up whenever I write about a woman's right to control her reproductive life. At least when these guys (and they're almost always guys) write to me, it's about the issue at hand and the fact that they think my opinion is ill-considered and wrong.
I respect that. I welcome the discourse that the community can and should engage in to make good decisions about who should lead the Orange County Schools.
Right now, I wish that only half of the PR espoused on L'Homme's behalf were true. If it were, he'd write a guest column on these pages and tell his supporters to clam up and turn their attention to the future of the district and the process that secures its next leader.
Shouting at the rain isn't going to get our kids a good education or help our district to identify a sharp, capable leader. Perhaps it will just make wet all who are determined to ram through a superintendent selection by way of backroom deals.
If so, let it rain.

To medical schools: Teach talking
Wednesday, February 19, 2003
Before all else, I want to say thank you to Kelly at UNC's eye clinic, located at the Ambulatory Care Center.
On Valentine's Day, I had a test there called RTA - Retina Thickness Analysis. This is a remarkable machine that can look into your eye and photograph a topographic map of your retina, measuring layers of thickness in the nerve bundles in your eye.
The thicker, the better. Thickness of nerve tissue in the eye means redundancy of function. In this case, it's good to repeat yourself.
The problem is that to have this test, your eyes have to be dilated. If, like me, you're extra sensitive to light and suffer from migraines, this test and its aftermath (hours of dilated pupils and difficulty focusing the eyes) are quite uncomfortable.
Like a mammogram, it's a momentary discomfort well worth the trouble for the information it gives us about the health of something vital. Also like a mammogram, this test requires active cooperation from the patient. Lots of "hold still" moments in a position of physical discomfort.
And this is where Kelly comes in. Despite the fact that Kelly has done this procedure a zillion times, she talked to me throughout. It's far less important what medical people say during these things than just the fact that say something to guide you through.
"Focus on the doughnut ... hold there ... that's perfect ... okay, relax ... you're doing great ... almost done."
Like a kid in the back seat of the car on the way to the beach, all I want to know is "How much longer? Are we there yet?"
I mentioned all this to Kelly during my visit. She said that medical people can sometimes forget that the patient might be getting this test for the first time or might simply be anxious about it. When you're the X-ray technician or the mammography specialist, you can forget that something you do dozens of times a day is new and may be scary to the person to whom you are doing it.
But when there's a chatty person at the helm, telling you what's going on, how you're doing and what's next, it makes a world of difference. I've enjoyed the benefit of wonderful mammography technicians at UNC. They welcome you back, tell you that you look great in that gown and joke about turning a very personal part of your body into a pancake so that you can keep it. Well, they joke with me about it - but that's me.
A while ago, I had a doctor look into my eyes during a so-called "slit lamp" exam. Again, they do this while you're dilated, and it involves a very bright, focused white light.
Usually, a doctor will do this and chat through it. "Doing fine, everything looks good here," that sort of thing. Not this time. This time, it was "Hmmph," followed by scribbling notes, then a new expression on the face - one of manufactured compassion, which is better than none at all.
If I were teaching communications in medical school, I'd tell students that they need to realize how their every grunt, every sigh is interpreted (for better or worse) by the patient. After all, we're there in order to get information. If we're anxious, we'll latch onto anything.
And there's the simple element of the humanity of it all. Telling the patient to take a deep breath and to try and relax conveys the understanding that while you might be doing this test, the patient is the one who must cope with its results.
It would be great if, in medicine, we could tip for good service as we do in restaurants. Instead, a simple "thank you" will have to suffice for how Kelly does business.

Stone: Our page in black history
Wednesday, February 26, 2003
They say that when you're living in the good old days, you don't really know it. Chuck Stone's continued presence in the UNC School of Journalism reminds me of that.
When I was a student there (a decade ago), I found myself walking among two greats - Stone and the late Jim Shumaker. The two were the senior partners of the craft, and fine friends to boot.
Between the two (and among all of us), there was a running joke wherein each referred to the other as the elder. They were, in fact, the same age, but the "When I get to be your age ..." stories were all the more fun for their inaccuracy.
In the story of Chapel Hill's struggle through the civil rights movement, we had Jim Shumaker telling us how it was to work on a newspaper in this town - trying to shake things up and keep his job at the same time.
He often said that he felt he didn't do enough in those tense days. His employer felt he'd done far too much, so he probably struck the right balance.
In the story of blacks' struggle in that era, we could find the voice and face of Chuck Stone. The first president of the National Association of Black Journalists, Stone was one of a handful of blacks working in major media in the mid-'70s.
What was once a few dozen members has swelled to more than 3,000 today. Stone's charm and that ever-present bow tie have no doubt been responsible for attracting many to the profession. The guy is classy.
Stone has been a relentless voice in protecting the First Amendment against the perils of censorship. Today, more than ever, I recall his lessons from his signature class on that most important topic. In this time of international tension and uncertainty, his cautions about the compelling need to protect political speech - dissent, specifically - are more vivid than ever.
A decade ago, we were watching headlines about Nancy Kerrigan and Tonya Harding. America was buzzing about Hillary Clinton's health care plans and whether she was too strong a figure in the political arena.
But all that changed with the September 2001 attacks on the United States. Worries over the repression of political dissent became quite palpable. In the months that followed, I remember feeling comforted when I spotted Stone on television, talking about censorship and handicapping various political races in the 2002 election cycle.
It is a relief to know that he's still here, still fighting, still teaching. The last time I was in Stone's office at UNC, it was in Howell Hall, but I doubt much has changed. It was always a hall of fame of its own, featuring a who's who in journalism and politics, a gallery of photos of Stone with preachers and presidents with whom he has worked.
You might think you'd just taken a wrong turn and hit the Life magazine archive, but it's "merely" the life of Chuck Stone. He's always proud of his students, and more so of his own kids - yeah, that was one of his who came up with "Wasssssssuuuuuup" in that beer commercial.
It's too seldom that we get the chance to pause and say thanks for the opportunity Stone has given us to talk to a walking history book. Stone doesn't age; he just gets more stories, more information, more background.
Thanks, uncensored, for everything, Chuck.

Merging 2 worlds of Orange schools
Wednesday, March 05, 2003
When the rest of North Carolina finally complied with Brown vs. Board of Education, somehow Orange County (and a handful of other districts) avoided merging our two districts together.
The first and most compelling point to keep in mind in reviewing that history is simple - both districts wanted it that way.
The view from the county is one of self-determination. The folks outside of Chapel Hill's city limits tend to feel that the large population (collectively) of Chapel Hill and Carrboro drive the policies of government and commerce in Orange County quite completely.
Chapel Hill and Carrboro politics do have a hefty influence in the county government, and that's as it should be. That's where most of the people are, after all, and the county government functions include social services and the health department, for example. Those are departments driven by the needs of people, both individuals and populations of people.
Want a new landfill? When and where and how big ... that's all driven by people, too - those who do (or don't) recycle their newspapers and yard clippings. The government has to go where the people are to make policy that serves all of us.
To go where most of the people are in Orange County, you have to go south.
The need for the government's help in dealing with yard waste or trees damaged in a storm is different for someone living on 10 acres of land than it is for someone with a postage stamp-size lot, a 25-foot paved driveway and a sidewalk that must be kept clear.
Those separations are simple and obvious. They define a way of life - urban or rural - that the resident has deliberately chosen when purchasing or renting a home.
But a way of life, living in the country or living on the city bus line, should not be a factor in determining what "kind" of school you go to. For any student attending a public school anywhere in Orange County, going to public school should mean going to a school that's safe, appropriately equipped and offers the student a fair and equal opportunity to educate himself in preparation for a successful adult life.
The reality of our separate school systems has meant more than simply a physical separation between two districts. It has served as the dividing line creating two separate and clearly distinguishable education communities, and that's just wrong.
My rural friends and neighbors have complained mightily that holding onto the power to control the county school district is effectively holding on to autonomy - freedom from Chapel Hill's dreaded liberal establishment.
That "freedom" also has meant freedom from any and all benefits that might flow from a merger. Children likely would see relatively little disruption in their school life; after all, no one's going to move New Hope Elementary School to Franklin Street.
But if the teachers in the Chapel Hill-Carrboro district are the real reason that their schools are touted as the best in the state, perhaps the rest of the county could see more benefit from their expertise.
Indeed, with more in-service workshops and professional collaboration, perhaps the teachers up in these parts would do a better job with teaching our kids, too.
Or maybe that wouldn't happen.
Maybe the merged district almost immediately would drop off the top of the North Carolina heap and force the merged leadership to find out why algebra in Hillsborough differs so much from algebra in Chapel Hill-Carrboro. Is it the amount of math homework in middle school? Is it the textbook? Is the color of marker used by the math teacher? Is it ... (gulp) ... the education level of their parents?
Maybe, just maybe, it would become clear that the children of university educators do very well in school and the children of farmers struggle more academically.
Maybe all that extra money that the southern district gets through its fundraising and self-taxation actually buys valuable extracurricular learning experiences.
And maybe it's true that if the merger meant cutting just five or six jobs at the very top of the administration, the half-million dollars in savings could go to a better use.
As for the need to keep the districts separate in consideration of their combined size, both geographically and in terms of students, I only ask how does Wake County manage this? They have more than 100,000 students and more real estate.
I imagine they would describe their student population as "diverse" as well. With our university system's flagship sitting smack in the middle of the Southern part of Heaven, we ought to be able to figure out a way to merge these districts, just like more than 90 other counties managed to do years ago.
Just as growing real estate value is not a civil right and not a reason for neighbors to win the day in blocking an adjacent development, protecting a position of perceived exclusiveness and superior performance is not a reason for keeping two school districts separate and unequal.
Let the debate begin for the merger of Orange County's two school systems. When we all reconvene in the fall, we'll have this community discussion to show for "what we did on our summer vacation."

Teenagers correct for protesting
Wednesday, March 12, 2003
When some local teenagers cut class last week to attend an anti-war protest, there was some grumbling about the scheduling of the rally. The criticism was as fascinating as the rally itself - they should have held that gathering during non-school hours so that cutting class wasn't the incentive to attend.
On its face, that sounds kind of reasonable. Hold the demonstration during a time when you won't miss anything. That way, we know that you're only going for the cause involved, not the lure of missing a chemistry test.
The problem, I think, is that the theme of that rally and others like it last week was something like, "If War Starts, America Stops."
It would seem counterproductive to that message to deliver it in one's free time.
But our president has worked hard to set up such a mind-set.
"We're at war," he is constantly saying, while encouraging Americans to get to the mall, spend their money and not worry about the future. Be at war in your free time. Be at war by spending money, being free and carrying on "normally." Don't disrupt your life - if you do, the terrorists win.
According to press reports, about 75 students from East Chapel Hill High cut class to attend the demonstration. I don't know how many of them returned to school the next day with a note excusing their absence.
For those who didn't have an excuse, please clip and use this column.
Dear ECHHS,
Please excuse (student's name here) for being absent from class on the day of the anti-war demonstration last week. (S)he was trying to save my nephew's life, and those of more than 200,000 other American military personnel currently serving in the Middle East.
Signed, Jean Bolduc
When these students and others - some clothed, some "barely" so - took to the streets to protest the war, they were doing the very thing that my deployed nephew, a Marine first lieutenant, is working to protect. They were expressing their political views freely and passionately without fear of government reprisal or arrest.
The wife of a local Marine wrote a letter to the editor that ran in this newspaper on Monday. She complained that the recent "Naked Peace March" was somehow an expression of the protestors' lack of appreciation for her husband's service in the Corps.
The opposite is true.
It is the way that all Americans can, in a cherished tradition, shake their collective fist at the policy that sent her husband into harm's way. It's not a protest against voluntary military service. It is a protest against a policy that will have American citizens marching into and occupying a foreign country that has not attacked us.
Does Iraq have weapons of mass destruction? Yep, they sure do. Chemical weapons? Biological weapons? Yes and yes. And they've had that stuff since Ronald Reagan sold it to them.
These high school students may well have supported that particular protest in order to skip a class they wanted to avoid, but heck, it's their first outrageous war to protest. We should give them a break.
They've grown up thinking that the president's role was to secure, protect and defend the Constitution of the United States, not pick off foreign leaders whom we consider undesirable.
They got used to the idea that their civil rights were of the utmost importance to federal authorities and that spying on civilians was a topic of history, not a fear for tomorrow and the next day.
Their parents have filled them with glorious stories of how the college students of America, through persistence and protest, ended the war in Vietnam.
Maybe they didn't sleep all the way through American history after all. Maybe they know that the American sons and daughters who lost their lives in Vietnam died so for the benefit of proving a political science theory and not to defend the United States.
Maybe they think that's the wrong reason for Marines to lose their lives and expend our nation's fortune and her sacred honor.
If they thought that, they're in good company.
Protesting wrong-headed foreign policy is not just the right of Americans, it's our job - our covenant with those who yearn to breathe free. We can and we must state our reasons for opposing such policies and we should state these reasons at every level of public dialogue, including the high school civics class and the local newspaper.
It is a wrong thing for this country to invade and occupy Iraq.
John Brady Kiesling, a career diplomat, recently resigned his post because of the Iraq policy, which he said "will bring instability and danger, not security." In his letter to Secretary of State Colin Powell, he says that America's legitimacy is being squandered by the current Iraq policy.
I appreciate the protest of local high school and college students (and others). I consider their demonstrations to be acts of patriotism. Keep up the good work. The tanks aren't rolling yet.

The aldermen, the French and war
Wednesday, March 19, 2003
Once upon a time, there was a little town called Carrboro. Affectionately nicknamed the "Paris of the Piedmont," Carrboro is a place that sees itself as a thoughtful town - a community.
Among its elected leaders were fearless warriors - lawyers - named Joal Broun and Mark Dorosin who were famous for their skills in both reading and writing the fine print that can be so important in making agreements "stick."
One example of this was demonstrated a couple of years ago when Broun was reviewing an agreement pertaining to the mining of the American Stone Quarry. An agreement in principle had been reached between the nearby residents and OWASA, but those were not yet in writing.
Broun delayed the vote until the agreement was in writing, much to the chagrin of the dozens of people who attended the meeting expecting the years-long issue to come to a close. Too bad, Broun said. If it's no big deal to get this in writing, then it should get done quickly.
She was right to insist. A willingness to stop up the drain on every detail is the sign of a good lawyer.
In light of the French government's "stopping up the drain" at the United Nations over the last few days and weeks, some Americans have taken to boycotting French products. Protests have featured Americans pouring French wine into the streets, renaming the fried potato that is America's staple food of choice and even the egg-coated slice of fried toast finds itself with a new moniker.
Americans are nothing if not trivial in the face of war.
Well, I'm something of a walking United Nations on this subject. I am of English and German descent. My father's forefather, John Howland, came to the colonies (as a servant) on the Mayflower and bought his freedom in 1624. My mother's family is German and Scotch.
I married a man who is a first generation American in his father's Canadian line. Rick's mother, whose name was Clavette, grew up in northern Maine and was fully fluent in French and English. Her French grammar was much better than my father-in-law's.
For his part, my father-in-law was an army sergeant who hit the beaches of Normandy the day after D-Day and marched through Europe into Paris, working with General Patton's staff as an interpreter. His French was good enough for that.
The people of Paris were grateful for the Americans' arrival, he often said, and the women were willing to express that gratitude in every way. Oddly enough, he returned to the United States on a troop ship called the USS Chapel Hill - well before my husband was born and obviously long before he knew that we would live here and he would die here.
My father-in-law loved to eat at Elmo's in Carrboro. He enjoyed the people and the atmosphere. He liked the food, but he never ate out for the food alone. It was a cultural exchange for him - a kid from Quebec, transplanted to Hartford, Conn., and retired in North Carolina. There was always more to learn.
There was no one whom he couldn't charm, no one whom he wouldn't talk to, have coffee or a glass of wine with. My father-in-law, my second most favorite French guy, was a smoothie.
And when I think of the leadership in Carrboro, I think of him in that odd way - that Paris connection. That sister-city idea. It seems to me that Alderman Jacquie Gist and her colleagues on the Board of Aldermen make a very good point in their recent proclamation of April as "French Trade Month."
But perhaps you have to be willing to read the fine print. They are not willing to be sucked into a freedom fry debate. They see the arguments over just causes of war and peace to be more complex than bumper-sticker logic.
Moreover, they seem to articulate thoughtfully the notion that even as we have this week faced down a severe difference of opinion about methods of achieving common goals with our French allies, we are not at war with France, our oldest ally and critical sponsor of our tea party.
During a time of war, we are wise to respect those who, in the interest of due diligence and care for those who may face harm (friends and foes alike), make the commitment to stop up the drain if necessary in order to dot every "i" and cross every "t" or walk away from the table if they just don't believe in the deal.
It's a good time to give thanks for the commitment of French leaders and those in our own community who have made thoughtful offerings of dissenting opinion regarding our march toward war with Iraq. Spilling wine in the street will not hurt the French any more than protesters rejecting EuroDisney crushes any of us.
Friends argue, then they kiss and make up, especially if one of them is in trouble. I'm betting that the kissing and making up is the French part of that tradition. In the scheme of things, I think it's the best part of being friends.

Life, liberty and health care access?
Wednesday, March 26, 2003
With the best of intentions, N.C. Representatives Verla Insko, Martha Alexander and Thomas Wright have sailed off the deep end, having greased along a slope so slippery it's doubtful that super glue could hold any part of them to their position.
These three members of the state House have proposed an amendment to the N.C. Constitution that would recognize a legal right to health care under Article I.
The critical section reads: "Health care is an essential safeguard of human life and dignity, and there is an obligation for the State to ensure that every resident is able to realize this fundamental right. Not later than July 1, 2006, the General Assembly shall provide by law a plan to ensure that by July 1, 2010, every resident of North Carolina has access to appropriate health care on a regular basis."
If it should pass, the matter would be on the November 2004 ballot for the voters to have the final thumbs-up or down.
To be sure, there are too many residents of our state who are uninsured. That does not mean, however, that they do not have access to the most basic forms of primary health care.
Health departments, for example, provide free immunizations for both children and adults. Well-child visits with a pediatrician are helpful, especially to new parents, but they are not a fundamental human right.
When people talk about health-care access, they're really talking about so-called affordable health care. That is at the center of this issue.
Who gets to decide how much is enough to pay for that coverage?
If a family of four buying their own coverage must pay over $500/month for what is essentially hospitalization insurance, is that excessive? How about $750? How about $1,200?
It depends, of course, on the circumstances and risk of that family. Two healthy parents and two healthy kids would find that $1,200 way out of line for the benefit that very basic coverage would provide them. Give the mom or dad a tricky case of cancer or a need for a heart/lung transplant and the picture changes pretty quickly.
Looking at half a million dollars in treatment costs can bring the equity of that rate into focus.
The problem with making "access" a civil right is the broad scope through which it can be interpreted. We all have access now, we just don't have absolutely equal abilities to pay for that access.
The levels of bureaucracy that this proposed amendment could generate are mind-bending. We thought HMOs were intrusive?
The tragic story of young Jesica Santillan provides an interesting twist on the debate. Would her treatment have been ruled as having deprived a North Carolina resident of equal access to health care?
The same week of Jesica's death, a young man from the area died while awaiting a transplant. No one was holding press conferences on CNN for him. He was not the victim of malpractice, just an ordinary guy awaiting a new heart.
He was, however, a U.S. citizen and a North Carolinian. What might have happened if his health care was a civil right? Might his family have sued for his case to take precedence? Is that the path to better health?
It seems to me that the answer to better health overall is lost in our desire to have the government be responsible for our basic needs. It's a false hope.
The government isn't going to make us eat a leaner diet, get more exercise, stop smoking, drink alcohol in moderation or not at all and get the routine cancer screenings (many of which are available free already) that can save or extend our lives.
The government isn't going to make us buckle our seat belts by ensuring a civil right to health care.
The government isn't going to attentively supervise our children, preventing them from being hurt or killed in accidents each year.
The government's guarantee of "access" to affordable health care will not take guns out of shoeboxes and put them into locked gun cabinets. The access will pay for the treatment of the non-fatal injuries in these cases.
Obviously, the larger value in both human and fiscal terms would be found in prevention. When parents want to beat their children and abuse them in unthinkable ways, this bill will have no effect whatsoever on their ability to do so. We'll still have unlimited access to our own carelessness. We'll still make bad choices for our kids and ourselves. That's the down-side of free will.
The upside of that equation is the part that says your health is primarily your problem. You are the one who should ask questions during your visit to the doctor. You are the one who should read the instructions with a new prescription. You are the one who should walk more, eat less and buckle up.
If you're smoking, it's only you who can quit. And you're the one who will live longer for it.

Practice not even close to perfect
Wednesday, April 02, 2003
As Britney Spears would put it - oops, they did it again.
That's right, the Orange County school board, apparently in a reflex of some sort, took another vote about the superintendent search in secret. But heck, that's not even the exciting part of the board's latest escapades.
No, indeed.
Now comes the story of board member Delores Simpson calling superintendent candidate Brad Sneeden and promising him all manner of trouble if he accepted the job.
Note to Sneeden regarding his decision to run for the hills: good call.
What in the world possessed Simpson to make a call that yanked the rug out from under her colleagues is for her to explain, and she'd darn well better. There's a time and a place for some things, the old saying goes. This contact was way out of line and does no service to either the children or the staff of the Orange County schools.
Front and center, Ms. Simpson. Let's hear your explanation. At the meeting, in the newspaper, let it all hang out. If you think you're within your rights as a board member to submarine a candidate, then you can now tell all of us why a board meeting wasn't a sufficient forum for voicing your concern.
Fifty lashes with a wet noodle for the board's chairwoman, Brenda Stephens, if she doesn't get this bunch under control and in some form of compliance with the Open Meetings Law.
For crying out loud, how many times and in how many ways must we scold and remind that you can't justify secret votes with some baloney about the candidates wanting privacy?
Surely the board is clever enough to use color coding, numbering or some other identification system to refer to the candidate without disclosing a name in public.
I've been at board meetings where a student was expelled from the district - a rare action taken only in extreme cases.
The law is very clear about student records and their strict confidentiality, yet the vote I recall was taken in public session, referring to the student as "Student X."
It is tiresome and simply not credible when board members shrug and say they're better educated each time they blow something like this. Their errors should be on the side of disclosure or delay in these cases.
If they need to consult with an attorney before voting, they should do so.
Has the dog eaten the board's collective homework? Doubtful.
A simpler explanation is the more likely, and the simplest explanation revolves around politics and power-brokering and contempt for the public interest.
When a couple of board members give that, "We're learning what's OK and what's not" stock answer followed by we'll-do-better-next-time-we-swear, alarm bells ring.
I wouldn't accept these answers from my kids. Hearing them from school officials doesn't pass the stink test.
There's plenty of blame to go around here and this doesn't fall along neat political lines.
Still, wasn't it curious that the folks at "Board Watch" seemed so quiet and so pacified in all this? "We'll just have to trust the board to do the right thing," said one self-appointed "watcher."
Where's the dogmatic review? Where's the Web site? Where's the outrage at a secret vote?
And while all this is going on, what must potential candidates be thinking about the three-ring circus that they are watching?
It becomes clearer why it is that some of the finalists (we're down to two now - again) don't want their names disclosed.
They may not feel any differently after one of them wins the job.

U.S. 70 dump site more than eyesore
Wednesday, April 09, 2003
Over a year ago, I got a call from a reader following a controversial column I'd written (this was one call among many). He began our chat as most of these calls tend to start - by telling me that he didn't agree with much of what I write.
With that disclosure, he shared his insights on that particular column, then went on to tell me that he lived near Hoyle King on U.S. 70. He asked me if I was familiar with the site, which I wasn't.
You've just got to see it, he explained. Once you have seen it, there'll be no need for me to explain it to you. It's a hazard and the county seems unable to do anything about it, he said.
He was right. I may not agree with everything this caller thought or said, but on this one, he was 100 percent solid gold right as rain.
The put a picture of this incredible scene on Sunday's front page. It's not the first time our paper has put this story on our pages and I hope, cautiously, it won't be the last. This picture itself, however, cannot do this disaster area justice, nor can these thousand (almost) words.
The story was prompted by a neighbor, Tommy Scott, who put a rather substantial sign up in his front yard. It reads: "Just Ahead: Residential Properties being used to store junk cars county government can't control. Why?"
That's a darn good question and I'm grateful that Scott found a way to lay the issue out so neatly for the county's "powers that be." Commissioner Steve Halkiotis has repeatedly expressed his frustration by suggesting that perhaps there is a rogue batch of kudzu that's levitating the autos and depositing them on the site.
One thing struck me immediately as I drove past the scene over a year ago: If a tiny fraction of this were on the right of way in front of my house, my neighbors would make my life miserable until I cleaned it up. Moreover, I would expect the sheriff to be a regular visitor. Frankly, this seems too simple to me, so I'm confused about the delay. It's perfectly obvious that this is far more than an eyesore. It is a public health and safety hazard with "long overdue for tragedy" written all over it.
The picture on Sunday's front page displays the random dumping of dangerous material. This place is not a junkyard; it's an illegal toxic dump.
Junkyards provide an important and valuable service to the community, by safely organizing and storing old and potentially reusable material. Junkyards, in this very environmentally aware community, are Earth Day-friendly places. And most of all, junkyards are legitimate businesses, with permits and accountability. I have never seen a junkyard without a fence around it.
No, this place is not a junkyard. With cars parked all along U.S. 70's right of way, there's no ability to control children's access to unattended cars, with trunks to be trapped in and toxic chemicals to which they can be exposed.
So, what should be done? The county and state should create an omnibus action (which county Attorney Geof Gledhill is said to be working on) against this homeowner whose actions constitute a serious risk to the public health. If he were spreading a potentially fatal virus around town, he'd be locked up, not charged with the pitiful "creating a public nuisance."
The district attorney should charge this guy for his reckless endangerment of the minor children who live within walking distance of that site. One count for each unregistered vehicle.
Department of Transportation officials have "talked to him repeatedly," according to Sunday's story. Perhaps they forgot to say "pretty please." This begs the question as to whether or not we can hope to start depositing abandoned cars in the front yard of the governor's mansion in Raleigh - another residentially zoned area that's entitled to treatment no better or worse than that enjoyed by the more-than-patient folks who live along U.S. 70.
DOT officials should give him five days to remove that stuff from the right of way, then they should show up and haul it off (sending it to an actual junkyard), sending him the bill and seeking a judgment against him when he refuses to pay it.
The county (on behalf of its residents, of course) should sue King for the environmental damage that can surely be documented by an EPA site study, also billable to King. No homeowner has the right to do things with (or to) his land that endanger the land or people around him.
The county's planning board has the right idea in its effort to increase the fines against Mr. King, but they're thinking too small. They want to increase it from $50 a day up to $100 a day. I would like to propose adding the words "per unregistered vehicle" to that.
It would produce a hefty fine for King on the first day and would be very unlikely to negatively affect any other resident or any legitimate junkyard operator.

Board, 'watchers' lack credibility
This time, I honestly think we might need a new baby, new bathwater, a new tub and a fresh bar of soap.
Since my older son entered kindergarten at Grady A. Brown Elementary School, I've been an observer, an activist and even an applicant for a seat on the board of the Orange County schools. In a few weeks, he will graduate from N.C. State University.
In all that time, I've seen superintendents, administrators and plenty of board members come and go. I've never seen a downward spiral in credibility, fair play and common sense that could hold a candle to this bunch. The campaign promises of harmony and professionalism from the newest board members have gathered dust over this winter and spring of our discontent.
The board has made an unmitigated mess out of its search for a new superintendent - a search that is promised to end this very day. Between illegal votes and inappropriate calls to finalists, the board itself has so soiled its own bed, it is not possible to imagine how it can constructively turn the page to move on to its next task - consideration of merger.
No better are the self-appointed "board watchers" whose tactics have been at once misinformed and naive, as well as misleading and manipulative.
Members of "Board Watch" have posted on their Web site's bulletin board some comments about a recent jam-packed board meeting at which the Hillsborough police were present. Presumably Chairwoman Brenda Stephens anticipated a significant crowd and asked the police to attend in case feelings ran too high.
There's only one thing worse than having police at a school board meeting, and that's not having them when you need them. Any board chair has as her primary job the task of running the meeting, making sure that everyone who's entitled to speak has a turn to be heard.
Inviting the community's law enforcement to attend a very controversial meeting where lots of people with diverse views will attend is normal and expected. School boards often do this with redistricting meetings, for example.
But according to the "board watchers," this was "intimidation to an art form." And for over-reach of the year, there's this from the group's Web site: "What, indeed, do we have here? Are we to understand that our School Board rules by intimidation. To use another Iraq war analogy, we have been working hard to oust a tyrannical dictator who has oppressed people in Iraq. What excuse do we have for allowing tyranny in our own school system?"
These same little lambs at "Board Watch" have represented to some mainstream media that the State Board of Education is "watching" the Orange County superintendent search, implying that the state board may at some point step in to stop the madness. This, after a state official merely stated that the state board "was aware of" the Orange County superintendent search. (The state board is notified of all such openings.)
One "board watcher" writes: "So the state is afraid to acknowledge they are watching the situation - because they don't want to be drug into the muck? Isn't supervising, training and monitoring boards in the state their job?"
Uh, no. It certainly is not. The state board's job is to set education policy, not supervise well more than 100 duly elected boards. I'm sure the state board's members are "watching" the Orange County selection process; just as they "watched" to see which ACC teams would be selected to go to the NCAA basketball tournament. They have approximately equal authority over both.
In a county where self-reliance is all, it boggles the mind to think that anyone would be looking to the state to "rescue" us from the knuckleheads we've seated on this board. Durham cannot give the boot to a convicted felon, but we would hope that the big, bad state would give Delores Simpson the gate for making a telephone call?
The one sip of lemonade from that bushel of lemons is that the candidate revealed himself to be rather thin-skinned. If one or two phone calls were enough to freak him out, what would he do in a bonafide crisis? You don't think you're going to get some hot phone calls as this community thrashes over the question of merger?
The board's bungling is embarrassing, but temporary. We have 13 months until the corrective cycle comes around to sweep out that barn. If those who sit on the board now are re-elected, we'll all be able to look in the mirror and across the backyard fence to see the reason our schools have suffered.
Board Watch's childish ideas about the state saving us from our own bad choices amounts to little more than watching an amateur piano recital. It doesn't seem right to boo too much.
Still, these particular amateurs are staging themselves to play some very ugly political cards that all seem to point back to their bitter disappointment that their candidate, Bert L'Homme, failed to get the job earlier this year.
We can hope they walk away from the table before this game gets too ugly, but that will mean that someone's better angels will prevail. This doesn't seem to be the year for that sort of victory.

The more things change ...
Last week, members of the Orange County school board managed finally to take the step that has seemed impossible for nearly a year - they hired a superintendent.
Three cheers to Shirley Carraway for taking the job. She must have experienced at least some pause in considering the offer. Come to Orange County ... land of illegal voting, wacky activists and an electorate that isn't sure what it wants. Heck, I'll bet she thought she was going to Florida.
Though we cannot offer the high profile of the famed butterfly ballot, Orange County does have a certain quirky kind of attraction that explains what might have possessed Ms. Carraway to pack up and move here.
First, we may be many things, but we're not dull. It cannot be said of Orange County's parents, teachers or kids that we're just slogging along from one school year to the next. We can get our knickers in a twist over sodding a football field, teaching sex education or staying overnight on a field trip.
Some of the most fun and best education I've ever gotten as a student or parent was in taking my kids on field trips associated with their classes in elementary school. You have not seen the Smithsonian Air & Space Museum in Washington, D.C., until you've gone there with a fourth-grader who is seeing it for the first time. Ditto for visiting a session of the House of Representatives or the Senate.
If I am allowed only one piece of really sage advice to our new superintendent, it would be this: Please lead the board to allow and embrace more experiential learning outside of this county. The more children see of the larger world, the more they draw from their classroom experience.
When you've actually met an astronaut or a museum curator, you can understand that they started with geometry and art I, too. They struggled with an English paper or a biology project, but then they realized how it applied to their dream and they made academic study part of accomplishing their goals.
When you're around people who really love what they're doing, their enthusiasm is utterly infectious. Their smiles start creeping across your own face before you're even aware of it.
In her book, "And So It Goes ..." journalist and author Linda Ellerbee wrote about being a local reporter. "You have to ride the elephants," she wrote.
The meaning there is simple. Every year, the circus comes to town, and the folks who watch their local TV news expect to see their favorite roving reporter do a live remote story while riding an elephant.
Likewise, our new superintendent will be expected to make the rounds this summer and ride some large animals while talking about upcoming challenges. It's pretty much scripted stuff. She won't have years of experience in dealing with Orange County's particular issues, but she certainly knows what a budget process is and how much grease some of the squeakier wheels demand.
It's in all our interests to help her in easing into her new job. The board and the teaching staff will benefit from the stability. I remain cautiously optimistic that the academic needs of our kids will retake center stage where they belong.
So welcome aboard, Ms. Carraway. We're glad you've embraced this opportunity. We hope this time the road signs are right, and that you'll be a fan for life.

Progress, thy name is frustration
It's been a while since we've seen our friends Sandy and Tom, so we made a date for Saturday night to go out for an intimate dinner and get caught up. Between job changes and various family events, we had a lot to go over. First, however, we had to get there.
We left around a half-hour before our appointed rendezvous, allowing ourselves an extra 15 minutes for the added traffic delay that we anticipated on I-40 between Chapel Hill and the Southpoint mall.
If you've been on I-40 in the last week anywhere in that stretch, you probably already are laughing. If so, play along for those you're eating breakfast with who don't get the "15 minutes" joke.
Between 15-501 and the Southpoint area, I-40 has recently gone from being a construction area to a picnic area. It's little more than a glorified parking lot now for much of the day, due to a lane-shift that means entering the highway is strictly stop and enter.
Perhaps it's an omen, but there'll be no merging in that part of Chapel Hill for the next two months.
Delusional, we thought that on Saturday night (really, it was late Saturday afternoon) we would see some slowdown, but still get there on time.
My son and his girlfriend had left the house 10 or 15 minutes before we did ... going out to shop for a wedding gift. When we finally decided to ditch I-40 and find our way along NC 54, we passed them on the off ramp.
They looked older than I remembered. I wondered if they'd gotten married while we were in line.
Snaking our way along N.C. 54 was barely better, although I didn't feel as though we'd start getting mail along the route as I did on I-40. Still, between the intersection of I-40 and N.C. 54 and the intersection of N.C. 54 and N.C. 751, my mind started wandering.
Is Bush still president? If so, which Bush is it? Is the war over? How many gallons of gas does this car hold anyway?
Alas, we finally reached N.C. 751 and made a quick right turn to a wide-open road. We were immediately suspicious, but somehow arrived rather directly to the lesser-used entrance to the small city that is Southpoint.
Now, of course, the problem is parking. Here we had that nice spot on I-40 and gave it up, I thought. Since we were now something like 20 to 25 minutes late, Rick dropped me off at the restaurant and I went in to meet our friends and apologized for our tardiness. They laughed. They had secured a table for the four of us and had to keep the bar tab going so as not to forfeit the space, so their mood was upbeat.
Apparently without committing a crime, Rick secured a parking space and joined us fairly quickly. Of course, instead of spending our first 20 minutes together talking about our lives and families, we whined (all of us) about traffic and parking.
Eventually, though, we moved on to dinner. We watched the prom-goers stream through the restaurant. We reviewed the hairstyles of the young women. We discussed fashion.
At one point, the husbands (with more than 50 years of marital experience between them) probably considered ordering a bowl of milk for the wives to commemorate our somewhat critical remarks. If they did think of it, they were wise and kept it to themselves.
Emerging with our britches bulging, the rain that poured while we ate had subsided. As we left the parking lot, there was a simply stunning double rainbow - visible from end to end - soaring across the sky.
The rain had moved on, and somehow, so had the traffic. Between now and Independence Day, I'm sure they'll both return.

Mother's Day a mixed (golf) bag
Wednesday, May 14, 2003
It was an odd day for me this past Sunday, a peculiar blend of the traditional and the quirky.
On the traditional side, my grown-up son returned from college and brought me flowers, even though at my house the term "Dr. Mom" is short for the button on my refrigerator that reads: "I'm the Dr. Kevorkian of house plants."
They're cut flowers. They were terminal when they got here.
I was also treated to a lovely dinner at my favorite restaurant, with a string of terrible jokes in the car to and from dinner.
An infection in my foot kept me off the golf course this Mother's Day. I was the subject of a tick attack a little over a week ago. A word to the wise - don't underestimate the little guys.
It's great to play golf on Mother's Day. The putts seem to roll in easily and I think the woods are enchanted - when I hit into them, my ball bounces back out onto the fairway.
More importantly, all those nice gentlemen who are usually overpopulating the courses are at home doting on their non-golfer wives. Since Mother's Day is commonly a perfect weather day for the links, their devotion is notable.
Occoneechee Golf Course in Hillsborough is an especially favorable location for a Mother's Day round. Is it the grasses? Is it the new sand in the bunkers? No. It's none of these things.
Occoneechee has two things, two very distinct things, that will make a mother's round memorable.
First, there are the Canada geese. The babies are hatched and toddling around behind their mothers by now. There's just something sweet about having to stand on the tee, with your ball ready to launch and having to wait while a new mother and her five goslings cross in front of you.
You'll often see them walking across fairways and greens, in strict single file, as though in goose boot camp, practicing their marching. It's a rite of spring that allows me to be tolerant of the downside - the deposits they leave behind.
The second offering on Hillsborough's fine little course is one that I do believe may be reserved especially for me.
The seventh and eighth holes border property that runs along U.S. 70. Some folk who live in there (and I don't know which house) have a couple of roosters.
You don't have to play golf to know that unlike a game such as football or basketball, it requires a certain level of quiet in order for the player (even at my level) to effectively concentrate on the task at hand.
So as one is standing over a putt, drawing the club gently backward in a manner very carefully controlled and precise, it's just a little unnerving to hear "cock-a-doodle-doo!" just as the club is stroking through the ball.
Images of a Chevy Chase movie flash through my mind, followed by thoughts of a chicken sandwich.
On the tee, another very focused and tense shot ... especially on a par three like the eighth hole ... the pair of roosters crowing with everything they've got right at the top of my backswing has become so expected that if it doesn't happen, the quiet will crack me up.
These two things - putting on the seventh hole and teeing off on the eighth hole - occur right next to each other, as you might expect. Yet they virtually never happen to my husband and playing partner. I think it's a guy thing.
So while I missed my wacky and traditional Mother's Day gift - an uncrowded round of golf at Occoneechee - I do have the comfort and satisfaction that comes with planning ... for Father's Day. It seems to me that there's a train station near Hillandale golf course in Durham ...

Shifting burden shafts programs
Wednesday, May 21, 2003
In the last week, the competing headlines have sent me running for an aspirin bottle. I think it must be leftover karma for all the algebra homework I didn't complete as a kid, but my mind cannot help but make equations when these situations taunt like a magician's trick.
Several days ago, there was story in the news about the U.S. Senate passing a $350 billion tax cut. This is not as much as the White House wanted, but appears to be the compromise figure that will become law sometime this year.
As leaders pat themselves on the back for their "stimulation of the economy," I am left to observe the obvious. This, like trends in health care that mean mastectomies are sometimes outpatient procedures, is nothing more than cost-shifting (read: "buck-passing").
There is no real savings; the burden is just moved down the line to be carried by smaller and smaller pockets in the hopes that, eventually, it will reach a level so powerless as to disappear into the abyss of "stuff that fell through the cracks."
A case in point is Chapel Hill's own homeless shelter, run by the Inter-Faith Council. To be sure, this has nothing directly to do with the tax cut currently before Congress, but I'm willing to bet it flows from the one passed earlier in the Bush II era.
The U.S. Department of Housing and Urban Development has decided not to renew the funding for the IFC's Project Homestart. The loss of more than a quarter million dollars will deal a hefty blow to the program's future.
Seven fewer people will be employed to support that program because of the cut. I have no doubt in my mind that the IFC will beat every bush in town (the green kind, that is) to shake out enough volunteers to limp along until they can secure new funding from somewhere to keep the program alive in some form.
Or perhaps the town and the county will mutually agree to raise taxes locally to make up for the lost revenue. And that's precisely where my cynical little voice starts making political equations.
I imagine the president's advisers paging through the federal budget and finding that, just taking the IFC's program as an illustrative example, they can cut more than $300,000 out of HUD's budget and shift that cost to a heavily liberal community that was not going to turn up in their "win" column in 2004 anyway.
Enough cases like that and you can cut many millions of dollars while taking almost no political risk. The homeless are the perfect group to pick on. People living hand-to-mouth usually don't hire lobbyists or set up angry Web sites rallying a national march on Washington.
But the next time the White House brags about its compassionate faith-based initiatives, we'll have to ask what faith it is that cuts funding to programs like Project Homestart.
Yes, our community is an affluent one, but this also translates to our cost of living matching our obvious quality of life. Put simply, it's a great place to live and a couple of bad twists of fate can make it an unattainable place to afford.
So while Washington shifts that burden closer and closer to individual towns and federal legislators congratulate themselves for "putting money back into the economy," chances are that we won't have an extra nickel in the bank in the end, and a good program goes without sufficient funding.
And seven people who used to work for the IFC are looking for jobs. Is it just me? That just doesn't seem like the right equation.
The new improved Franklin Street Wednesday, May 28, 2003 Every few years you read about a UNC alum coming back to town, looking around and declaring, "They've ruined the place."
This is a tried-and-true assertion, taken fondly to mean, "Something has changed since I went to school here, therefore the town has hit the skids."
And let's be fair ... when I came here 25 years ago, there was a gas station where the First Union-now-Wachovia building now sits at the corner of Franklin and Columbia. While I remember that with some nostalgia, it's mainly a point of pride that I can remember any detail from so long ago.
But now the town, the university and local business owners are going to put themselves in a room together and try to fashion something of a plan for keeping what's good on good ol' Franklin Street and improving what needs work there - all for the benefit of the local tax base and the overall quality of life.
Sorry you're not here to see my standing ovation.
As a business owner, I'd feel a little skittish about the town getting up to its elbows in development plans. These things should be driven by what the landowner wants, not necessary what the town would "like to see."
However - and that's a big however - the reality is that what the landowner wants has to go through an approval process that by all accounts makes getting top secret clearance at the CIA look like a walk in the park.
There's a reason that the town is picky, of course. There's an awful lot of Franklin Street that is extremely successful ... and it isn't any one thing. It's an ecosystem all its own. Disturbances that seem slight can ripple down the street and onto the campus.
Chapel Hill is a town that likes its look-and-feel "franchises." Whether it's roundball or Sutton's Drug Store, we know that certain things set the tone of the tradition of success, and we want to keep those things. So despite a population that belies the use of the word, we still think of Chapel Hill as a village - because we just want to, that's all.
But downtown needs more mixed-use sites like those expected in the upcoming Rosemary Village (see what I mean?). No, it's not a subdivision named for former Mayor Waldorf, it's a proposed condominium complex to be located on the corner of Rosemary Street and Mitchell Lane.
This is an idea that Carrboro has been in love with for some time ... people living and working in downtown and perhaps not owning a car at all, the so-called "walkable" community.
With buses all around Chapel Hill and even out to RTP and Raleigh, it could become a really viable scenario to live and work in downtown, getting to the grocery store, the drug store and the dry cleaners without ever missing the jingle of your own car keys.
My own little nudge for UNC to "give a little" is to allow a few more affordable places to eat along Franklin Street.
I know there's concern about competing with the university dining services, but we local folk would like to pop out for a soup and salad before a movie.
Making some of the currently vacant commercial space more enticing might benefit from these cooperative efforts. How about this idea where everybody gives something:
I can get a break on my rent if I agree to mentor two students a year in the "real world" of running a small business. The landlord gets a tax break, the business gets a good location and some space that's presently vacant pulls at least some revenue. The students get three hours of credit and the rental agreements can't exceed two years, thereby not tying up the space indefinitely.
Where do I sign?

No accounting for those ABCs
Wednesday, June 04, 2003
In preparing kids for end-of-grade tests, proponents often cite the need for kids to experience the so-called "real-world" need for proving themselves.
Just last week our own Howard Lee, now chairman of the state Board of Education, acknowledged that there are concerns among educators about the intrusion of state testing into instructional time. "We hear the concerns about too many tests and we will respond," Lee said in a press release.
That release then went on to chat up the virtues of North Carolina's "nationally touted" accountability model -- the ABCs of Public Education.
To be "nationally touted" requires only that a prominent political figure says that he likes the program and that everyone should look at it as a wonderful model of accountability. In short, George W. Bush, a self-described average student who went to Yale University on the exclusive George & Barbara Bush scholarship plan, says he likes the ABCs of accountability. Is this an endorsement we want?
At the risk of beating a dead horse, the end-of-grade tests that our state uses are tests that were designed to collectively evaluate North Carolina's standard course of study. They were never intended to be used as individual testing instruments.
Other nationally "normed" tests, like the Carolina Achievement Test (commonly referred to as "CAT" tests) are designed for that purpose, but North Carolina stopped using those in the 1980s. It was then that we somehow decided (as a state) that the only way to improve our state's performance was to compare North Carolina's students only to other North Carolina students.
We seceded from the country's education union, so to speak. Was it a coincidence that we were in the basement in national rankings at the time? Unlikely.
But those are end-of-grade tests. Promotion from one grade to the next through elementary school through middle school should be heavily driven by teacher evaluation and parental judgment. Woe to the school that waves a piece of paper with a single test result in any parent's face and says, "Your kid is going to have to repeat a grade."
The end- of-course tests are more like the old days. These are given in high school and are recognized by universities as an objective measure of students' mastery of the subject. These are given in classes that are graduation requirements or college admission requirements -- mathematics, science, English and civics, for example.
Thankfully, the curriculum of these courses is driven much more by universities than by the N.C. General Assembly. Not worrying about aligning the curriculum to the state's course of study, the teachers and students can focus more on the topic.
At Orange County's Cedar Ridge High School, Beth Neill teaches mathematics. She's a favorite among students and with good reason. She loves math. She loves teaching and she very obviously loves those kids in her class.
When we met (again) at the open house last year, she looked at my older son, called him by name, and asked him how he was doing ... where was he going to school now ... and so forth.
Brian was in Beth Neill's class in sixth grade for about two weeks -- nine years ago. He'd transferred to Algebra, but she remembered him. It was clear that she was interested to know how things had turned out for him.
She takes her end-of-course test prep time and turns it into a game for students, a way to review and decompress the pressure of the actual test day. There are quizzes and prizes, provided by us, the parents.
If teachers felt free to express themselves on the topic (and I doubt they do), they'd probably list the many tricks they must have at the ready to try and relieve their students of the test anxiety that is drilled into them through end-of-grade testing.
And that's because teachers have as much or more on the line as the kids do. Students may get a bad grade, but teachers may get or miss out on a bonus depending on students' results.
How many chances are you going to take to be innovative or outspoken about testing in general if your job and you career could be hanging in the balance? Most of us would keep our noses down and try to stay out of trouble.
Chairman Lee says that he'll be reaching out to teachers and other school employees to "stay the course" on education improvements. That's got "don't rock the boat" written all over it -- a shameful position to take with so much at stake.
In most academic circles, real improvement comes from accounting to a standard, inviting criticism and acting constructively on that review. That is what life-long-learning is about and what parents should demand.

Policy is good, but ethics are better
Wednesday, June 11, 2003 Rare though it may seem, I applaud the Orange County Schools for adopting its anti-nepotism policy last week, even though I find such action somewhat redundant.
Schools, after all, are run by licensed professionals, who are bound by some canon of ethics that surely proscribes one from supervising a close relative.
The policy applies to employees of the district and not to the school board, as is completely proper. If board members could not have relatives working in the district, for example, then Cameron Park Elementary School would have been deprived of the services of Kim Rorrer for the many years she's worked there.
Kim is the daughter of Bob Bateman, a recently retired veteran of the school board. During his tenure, Bateman voted on teacher contracts, raises, bonus money -- which certainly affected his own daughter quite directly.
And this is a perfectly appropriate thing. Bateman was not, after all, her supervisor. He comprised only one-seventh of the vote to supervise his daughter's supervisor's supervisor (the superintendent). To be sure, a principal might think twice before recommending a disciplinary action against a sitting board member, but he or she also might balk in the same way at scolding the daughter of his minister or a friend.
School board members can and must make decisions that directly affect members of their own immediate families -- their children, specifically. That desire, to affect schools in a way that benefits their children, is the reason most of these people are giving up their Monday nights and dragging home at 1 a.m.
It is definitely not for the pay, the glory, the privacy or the gratitude they receive.
Yes, the schools are an institution in which we entrust our children's academic development. But part of that development is the piece that shows them how to be connected to other people -- how to build a community.
This newspaper is another organization that offers itself as "Trusted and Essential." The fourth estate is built on its objectivity and on our ethics. Would it make any difference if family members of some editors have done work for the paper?
It wasn't nepotism that got The New York Times into its current nightmare; it was bad judgment and lack of institutional control.
The Herald-Sun is one of the few locally owned newspapers remaining in the United States. That closely held ownership is a good thing for community-rooted coverage. It's a good thing for the institutional memory of the organization. It's also a darned common thing in American companies for kids to work for the family business. From dry cleaners to restaurants to farms, this has been going on a long time.
So why the big stink over nepotism? It's not a bad thing when it's applied properly.
I speculate that the policy is the product of some stinker burning up phone lines and sending mail to one or more board members whining that some person -- or people -- has had his or her way as a result of nepotism.
Clearly, someone has turned over a rock recently, because all sorts of dark, wriggly stuff has been bubbling up to the surface. You'd call it "chatter" in the intelligence business.
This comes in the form of anonymous letters (I've gotten one recently and I've heard about others), e-mails and phone calls from people who won't identify themselves.
In the news business, you get a lot of good stories from disgruntled people looking to get even. And you get to listen to a whole lot of gossip, the root of which may be planted (sometimes buried) in the truth or may just lead to a rich cow pasture. Even I (the Dr. Kevorkian of house plants) could grow orchids in some of the stuff I've heard lately.
I appreciate the county's new policy and its good intentions, and I'm glad it stopped short of including members of the school board. I'd hate for the schools to lose some good people just so the board wouldn't feel it was under any political pressure.
Fending off the political fringe and keeping focused on what serves all the community's children is what board members are elected to do. The weather may not reflect it, but based on the "chatter," it's shaping up to be a long, hot summer.

Police ethics, the law and sportswear
Wednesday, June 18, 2003
We all know that a couple of boneheaded Chapel Hill cops decided to play dress-up and pretend they were FBI agents. Bad, bad, bad officers they were, and that's all in the book.
It's of value to point out that they were not rewarded for this -- they were punished. One was forced out, one was temporarily suspended. I certainly hope that they'll be looking down the barrel of a federal prosecutor's pen (facing criminal charges) as I would expect to be if I were caught impersonating a federal agent.
The officers, in order to appear more like FBI agents, wore golf shirts that they had received at an FBI workshop of some sort. Apparently, it was not a workshop on ethics or the law, but I digress.
So they got shirts that said something more official looking than "My partner went to Quantico and all I got was this lousy golf shirt." Let's say it said something like "FBI."
I read in the news reports of this embarrassing episode that the Chapel Hill Police had adopted a new dress code that is intended to help prevent a recurrence of such behavior.
That dress code will prohibit Chapel Hill officers from wearing shirts that display a law enforcement insignia other than that of the Chapel Hill Police Department.
Now that seems simple enough, doesn't it?
The problem is (and I know I'm becoming a regular nag about this) it ignores the import of the role of ethics, which are by definition "principles of right conduct." In practical terms, to behave ethically means knowing the difference between right and wrong and following that system of moral beliefs by deliberate choice.
My husband has a golf shirt that he got at a charity golf event to benefit N.C. Special Olympics. It says "Chapel Hill Police 4th Annual Golf Tournament" on it. Almost invariably, when he wears this shirt, people ask him if he's a police officer. He isn't. He says so.
Could he get a better table in a restaurant if he said yes? Maybe. And there are those who would argue that there'd be no harm in that ... after all it's the assumptions of other people that initiate the ruse, not Rick's asserting it to gain advantage.
But he would never do that. In fact, in my estimation, he avoids wearing that shirt because of the tendency people have to make this assumption.
So the problem with the CHPD policy is that it wants to solve an ethical problem by making a rule. One could comply with this new rule and wear an FBI hat (also a favorite at golf events), wave around an FBI key chain, wear an FBI jacket or use any of a dozen other knickknacks that you probably can buy at any FBI "cop shop."
The real issue here is that these officers were hired by the town to protect and serve the public -- to keep us safe from crime. No law enforcement official serves the community by lying, cheating and stealing.
Yes -- stealing. When these two cops stepped over this line, they stole a little bit of the reputation of everyone in their department. They stole a little bit of our community's pride in their department. They stole a little bit from a lot of people.
Acts of deception are sometimes a necessary part of police work. Those occasions can include undercover work or lying to a suspect. Obviously, those are investigation techniques that are within the bounds of what cops do to solve crimes. Those are not only different circumstances; they are certainly regulated by police procedure. In short, it's legal, ethical and appropriate.
But this business -- impersonating an FBI agent -- would be criminal for an ordinary citizen, and if it isn't criminal for a police officer, then the law needs some rewriting. The credibility of those officers who put in the hours, know the rules, understand and live by their ethical obligations depends on equal treatment (and punishment) of their colleagues who fail to do the same.

Drawing a bead on my new addiction
Wednesday, June 25, 2003
Hello. My name is Jean. I have an addiction.
Laugh all you want, I am unashamedly hooked on the fine art of beading, jewelry making ... I don't even know what to call it -- I'm too busy doing it.
A month or so ago, I was watching my son's girlfriend make a pair of earrings. Jamie is a terrific artist (which I am not) and yet as I watched her go through this process with pliers and wires, I couldn't help but observe that it seemed doable to me.
When a person as artistically challenged as yours truly runs across a thing like this, it's a really exciting event. What the heck, I thought. I work long hours, pounding away at my computer. I should get a relaxing hobby that will help me bring some beauty and reward into my life.
It goes without saying that someone who is staring at a computer all day would find the one hobby that actually provides more eyestrain.
Jamie let me try my hand at it, patiently teaching me some basic techniques. I made a pair of earrings for myself -- a pair that I would actually wear out of the house.
Soon, we were off to go shopping at the Original Ornament in Carr Mill Mall. I wanted to just hook up the store to the back of my car and bring it all home.
We pored over tiny glass beads, those made from silver (among my favorites) and various charms and so forth. Jamie was very restrained and responsible, scolding me not to buy too much. A little bit will go a long way, she said. The shopkeeper encouraged me to follow my heart, of course.
And so I developed my humble supply of the many beads and earring hoops and wire that one needs to get started.
On Sunday, my phone rang and it was Jamie. I commented that she sounded unusually chipper and she explained that it was because she wanted something. Jamie never lacked candor.
"Come with me to the bead show," she said. After only brief explanation, I happily agreed. When I asked my son if he wanted to come, he looked at me (and his girlfriend) as though I'd just volunteered a free root canal.
Just us girls, then.
And off we went to the Mebane Arts & Community Center for a bead show. We walked in and received paper bracelets after paying our admission. How appropriate, I thought. I bet the Betty Ford Center does the same thing, though I thought these should have beads on them.
Entering the multipurpose room (a gymnasium with a stage), we stood awestruck at the sea of vendors with every kind of bead in every color and texture. Some were pearls, some were stones from riverbeds and some shells from the ocean. It was a form of sensory overload that defies explanation.
One of my fellow "addicts" and I were looking through some beads and she commented, "They're all so beautiful."
"This would be a lot easier to resist otherwise," I told her.
I spent more money than I should have, but I always enjoy driving up to Mebane. It's good to support the local economy by spending some money there. If there were an Olympic competition for the prettiest small town, Mebane would be a lock for at least a silver medal.
And we could take that medal and put it on a pendant ... and maybe a pair of earrings ... .

Local ordinance should be amended
Wednesday, July 02, 2003
It was too long ago -- something like 15 years now -- when I was pacing around while on the telephone with Mosey Carey, then-chairman of the Orange County Commissioners.
The topic was the civil rights ordinance that the Human Relations Commission (of which I was chairwoman) had pending. The commissioners had sent a request for enabling legislation to the N.C. General Assembly.
As we spoke, we were discussing (that means I was ranting and he was trying to calm me down) the treatment we already had received in committee. Our original hope was to establish that in our county, sexual orientation would be considered what is called a "protected class." This would mean that like race, creed, religion or national origin, citizens could not be discriminated against for being openly gay.
Carey's words still ring in my head. "We've got to crawl before we can walk," he said. Needless to say, I didn't like that answer, but as a matter of pragmatic politics, I agreed that we were either going to get most of what we wanted or nothing.
We opted for most and Orange County, for a decade now, has had the added scrutiny of local enforcement over our right to equal housing and employment.
Recent challenges aside, it has been a solid victory.
The hearings we held in the late 1980s that led to the ordinance are still fresh in my mind. During one, I remember a speaker who explained North Carolina's "crimes against nature" statute. She told us that under the law, only intercourse between married people was permitted.
"There goes half the room," someone said. We all laughed. The speaker (a legal expert) explained this would also mean that women who were (as I was at the time) very pregnant who chose to accommodate their very large tummies by changing positions were also committing a crime -- an "H" felony.
"There goes the rest of the room," I chimed. Although the thought certainly added a certain exotic nature to my love life, I've always resented North Carolina's intrusion into my bedroom. There's no form of "deviant" sexual congress any more illegal for a gay person than it is for me.
In all the years since that decision -- the "crawling-before-walking" decision -- I've regretted not digging in and insisting that our county's gay citizens should have rights equal to my own.
Since we share the same "criminal" history, I never could see why I should care any less about it than they would. And now I have arguments espoused by none other than Justice Anthony Kennedy to back me up.
As Independence Day approaches, this all falls together for me. Sometimes, you just need to throw the tea into the harbor to get everyone over the desire to figure out every angle of political calculus. When something is flatly wrong and unfair, you have to raise hell to stop it, making it necessary to justify continuing the status quo instead of persuading people to change.
I have no criticism for then-Chairman Carey. His incremental approach seemed the only way we were going to get anything done at the time. When our delegation introduced our enabling legislation into the local government committee, there were a couple of troglodytes who picked up their clubs and started after it, comparing equal rights in the workplace to endorsement of bestiality, incest and child rape.
The discussion was so graphic and disparaging that a reporter called me from just outside the meeting to tell me that our request was getting pounded. She also told me she was shocked, embarrassed and disgusted by the debate.
And now, I fast-forward to this very day, so many years later. The baby I was pregnant with at the time will be taking driver's education this fall. In all these years, he's crawled, and walked and run and grown to nearly 6 feet tall.
And still we wait. We've waited so very long that none other than one of the most conservative Supreme Courts in history has tossed this law out with the trash, where it belongs. In doing so, the court also has scolded that these laws should be repealed though a political process, not a judicial one.
I agree with Justice Antonin Scalia on that very point. The legitimacy of social policy is strongest when it's expressed through a political process. The Civil Rights Act of 1964 may be our most shining example of this, but many court cases (like Brown v. Board of Education) plowed the field for that moment of national political courage.
Perhaps last week's Texas decision can give a renewed vigor to the effort to end discrimination against our citizens based on their private (and now legal) conduct.
The discrimination we documented over a decade ago is still going on and the need for legal protection is just as great. The "special rights" argument against adding sexual orientation to the protected classes of the civil rights ordinance have long since been shown to be false.
Now's the time to amend our county's civil rights ordinance. The political season soon will be here and that's the proper arena for this decision and debate. It may take a year or two, but we're already 15 years in. It's time to struggle to our feet and walk.
Caring for pets the human thingWednesday, July 09, 2003
I've got pets on the brain.
Driving back from the beach after the holiday weekend, we came to a trouble spot on U.S. 70. "We" in this instance was my family and many others on a shared mission.
Apparently, something fairly serious happened on the highway. As our long line of traffic finally reached a nearby intersection, we were greeted with state troopers and fire engines coming toward us in our lane. Like sheep, we followed the many cars in front of us as we were led along some local roads that would eventually take us back to highway U.S. 70 -- about an hour later.
Winding ever so slowly through these back roads is instructive to the observer. This, indeed, is what most of North Carolina looks like -- farmland with tiny houses scattered about. Creeping closer to our goal, we watched as some of the local folks came out to talk to the bored drivers, smiling at our unlikely meeting and exchanging holiday greetings. They've scarcely ever seen a hundred cars stretched across the front yard. We were an oddity for them to ogle at.
As we approached one fenced-in field, Madison (our golden retriever) began to growl and bark. Coming up was a horse who had come up to the roadside fence to see what all the fuss was about. Madison didn't like the horse.
I rolled down the window some, thinking that the smell would be of interest to her. She barked at the horse, which caused it to look in our direction with one of those "you talking to ME?" expressions. It was absolutely priceless. We laughed for 10 minutes.
That's something a pet can do for you -- make you laugh when you're frustrated, and help you relax. My mother returned home from a week in the hospital recently. The young cat that she's babysitting all summer has been a great comfort to her in the wake of a heart attack. Some kitten antics here and there and a purring companion to pet and talk to. How do you put a price on that?
Orange County has a problem with its domestic animals, there's no doubt about that. We have too many stray cats and dogs and the county will have to start euthanizing them earlier to cope with the backlog. I have absolutely no doubt in my mind that everyone who works for the Animal Protection Society of Orange County wants to avoid that, but there are problems with the APS operation that are already beginning to trump that central issue.
In the short form, these will be described as "just communication problems," but indeed communicating with the public is so critical in protecting animals and controlling their population that there is no such thing as "just" a communication problem.
Whether it's euthanizing feral cats after starting adoption proceedings or suing a local man who allegedly insulted the reputation of the organization, the APS is spending a whole lot of time and resources in a downward spiral of public-relations damage control instead of advocating for animals that really need help.
A friend of mine recently tried to adopt a cat that the APS determined was feral and put down before she could pursue the agency's appeals process. When she brought the matter to the board, they heard her out and determined that, in fact, they had erred in accepting her deposit and in not explaining to her what the feral policy was and why she would not be permitted to adopt the animal.
More importantly, they not only didn't apologize for the bungled experience, but Executive Director Laura Walters took it upon herself to twist the facts into an editorial criticism of my friend for the fact that she was going to keep the cat in her bathroom for the first few days in her new home.
This, said Walters, would have been inhumane. If it is, then APS should stop recommending it to people who are adopting new pets. Instead of counter-suing its critics with defamation charges that are little more than bluster, the APS should be spending its time accounting for its budget, planning for needed improvements and articulating for the public the need for a strong animal-control program and creative approaches to adopting out as many animals as possible.
There's only one thing Walters should say (or write) to those who have criticized the agency and sought public accountability for its work, its budget and its plans for the future: "I'm sorry."
The euthanization rate at the Orange County shelter is reportedly well below the state average, but there's always room for improvement. While that part of the agency's work is probably in need of better public understanding, the more troubling issue is vividly clear.
When officials of a publicly funded agency are pointing the finger at critics as the cause of trouble instead of defending their programs and administration on facts and merit, something is very wrong.

60 million reasons to merge schools
Wednesday, July 16, 2003
There reaches a point in matters of public policy where the question is no longer "why?" but shifts instead to "when?" and "how?"
We are fast approaching that threshold on the subject of merging the Chapel Hill-Carr-boro and Orange County schools.
Certainly there are conflicts of culture, fair representation and the preservation of neighborhood schools that may prove vexing problems in the coming decade. Bringing the two systems together will be a major event of upheaval, anxiety and controversy.
But if the facts as reported in news accounts are correct, there's a brand new freight train on the tracks that's heading in the direction of merging these districts and it has a full head of steam to start.
Because it would delay the need to build new facilities by as much as a decade, merging the districts could save this community more than $60 million. Even as a rough estimate (subject to waggles in both directions) that is a number that must stop you short. It transforms the argument.
The tectonic effect of this information will make for some very interesting political bedfellows. Those who have been shaking their figurative fists at the prospect of higher taxes, for example, must be four-square in favor of this long-delayed marriage of systems. Right?
For example, former county school board member Bob Bateman opposed the bond that paid for Cedar Ridge High School. He did so, he said, because he thought that passing it would result in higher taxes.
He didn't say what ought to happen with all the students who were practically hanging out of the windows at the overburdened Orange High School; he just opposes higher taxes and voted against anything that might threaten that outcome.
Bateman has also conspicuously opposed a special district tax for the county schools while offering no real solution to meet the district's financial quandaries. He continues to be active in opposing any form of tax increase through his activism in the community, as is his absolute right.
Surely integrity will now force Bateman and like-minded others to take to the streets to advocate for merger. They will have 60 million good reasons for rendering the Orange County school board moot -- and that's just the facility savings. We haven't even gotten into the issue of administrative savings.
Obviously, we will not need the redundancy of highest level administrators for the newly merged district and one assumes that Neil Pedersen, the well-established champion of the Chapel Hill-Carrboro district, would take the helm of the larger operation.
And of course, he'd get a big raise for that. After all, it would be a huge increase in the number of students and would be an enormous challenge professionally.
Surely all those who are watching the pennies around here will support that as a necessary expense to remaining competitive -- we must retain the "best of the best" in our administrative leadership to keep the quality of the educational product consistently high.
This will probably be the argument advanced by those who believe that the academic success of Chapel Hill-Carrboro's students is attributable to the district's administrative leadership as opposed to the education level and socioeconomic patterns of the children's parents.
Those savings, in all likelihood, will be offset by the jumble that the transportation changes would bring ... but that may be something of a wash, too. Some of those issues may be mitigated, for example, by making one of the high schools a magnet school, specializing in one particular curriculum offering.
Imagine building a small high school in Southern Village that offered the International Baccalaureate Program, but parents further than 15 miles away would have to pay a fee for bus service. Guess what? Those who really want that program would gladly do it.
If you are a county resident who has long been grinding your teeth at the near constant comparison of the county schools to Chapel Hill-Carr-boro's district, perhaps you relish the opportunity to blend the two together and end the competition.
Perhaps you live out on Dairyland Road, so close to McDougle elementary and middle schools and Chapel Hill High that you can almost touch them. But your county address means that your kids take a long ride to Grady Brown, A.L. Stanback and Cedar Ridge or Orange High.
In my own case, my son attends Cedar Ridge High School, but we probably live physically closer to East Chapel Hill High. For the benefit of continuity, I would probably ask that he remain at Cedar Ridge to graduate. He feels a part of the school as a community. That's important to him and it's important for his social development.
And perhaps you want just the opposite. Perhaps you like the separation and the usually friendly rivalry between the high schools in the sports arena and elsewhere. Perhaps you simply live on one side of this fence and, to put it gently, you just don't care much for the culture and community on the other side.
Fair enough. But school leaders must lay out front and center whether or not that's a $60 million reason to remain separate and unequal.

‘Nickelby’ leaves middle behind
Wednesday, July 23, 2003
I sometimes think that when educators and government bureaucrats marry they produce ACRONYMs. Oh, sorry ... Alphabet Crap Really Offering Nothing & Yielding Murkiness.
"Nickelby" is the insider-education wonk term for the so-called "No Child Left Behind" (NCLB) Act. The concept is probably sponsored by some private conglomerate that plans to introduce a new product called "Dimeby" which will solve all the problems outlined by "Nickelby."
NCLB is essentially a new way to force school districts to be held accountable for results -- an admirable goal.
To be sure, there are more than a few serious flaws in the program. The federal government, after all, doesn't run our schools. We do. It's our local and state tax money that provides the vast majority of the funding for our schools.
On its face, the accountability seems like a good standard. If one or two of your schools don't do well, the whole district pays the price for it. This is an incentive that will prompt each school community to care about the outcomes elsewhere in the district, thereby ensuring that no child is left behind (hence the name).
My son is studying karate these days. Among the group he studies with, each student is told that the entire group should make every effort to advance together. They should help each other to learn effectively. If one of them is failing, they should all feel the burden of that failure. This teaches them not only patience and discipline but also a sense of shared commitment, an esprit de corps.
But that intent is where it ends. The instructor is not going to give out a black belt to someone who doesn't deserve it. He sustains a difficult standard for his students to aspire to. That's why they respect him. He understands that the actual achievement is the basis for the student's sense of accomplishment, not the ceremony where the new belt is awarded.
He's also not going to fail students who have achieved that standard by applying themselves just because their classmates have not arrived at the same level of achievement. To do so would break the contract between teacher and student.
Under NCLB, some schools that fail to comply with the federal accountability standards for two consecutive years must offer all students the choice of another public school.
But if all of Chapel Hill-Carrboro and Orange County schools fail to meet these standards again next year (as most of them did this year) nothing will come of that failure. For the standards to apply, the schools must have at least 40 percent of students on free or reduced lunch, an indication of their families' low income level.
So for all the bluster about leaving no child behind, the new accountability will leave lots of children behind -- those in the middle of the class in the middle of America. In communities like ours that have problems and affluence, we'll be left alone. How very nice.
To his credit, Neil Pedersen says that by golly the Chapel Hill-Carr-boro district is going to take these standards really, really seriously and that his "expectation" is that 100 percent of his district's schools will meet the standards next year.
When I was pregnant, I never used the expression "I'm expecting." To me, it seemed absurd. You expect the bus to show up, but it may not. My children were coming. Seven months into pregnancy, I was what we call "committed."
Dr. Pedersen, too, should be "committed," as should the school boards of both Chapel Hill-Carrboro and Orange County. If they cannot (or will not) meet the standards of the program, they should explain why. This may prove educational for all of us, for example, if it reveals the details of how the federal program is flawed.
The starting goals (which neither district fully met) don't look unreasonable to me. They state, for example, that by the end of the next school year, 81 percent of students in third through eighth grades will be proficient in math and 76.7 percent will be proficient in reading.
By grade 10, the proficiency level required is less than 70 percent for both reading and math. The on-grade-level proficiency required by the year 2014 is 100 percent.
Pedersen says schools that nearly make the mark should have another way to be described ... something other than "needs improvement." That reinforces the "expecting" standard, not the "committed" standard. I'd describe it as the "almost" standard.
I wonder if you'd want to go to a doctor who "almost" got into medical school, use a lawyer who "almost" passed the bar or fly on a plane into a storm where the pilot was "almost" instrument rated.
Almost certainly not.

Summertime’s slothlike news cycle
Wednesday, July 30, 2003
It is a torturous time of year in the news business -- summer, the season that never seems to end.
When you see stories about a long hot summer, you might think they're about the weather. Except for the occasional hundred-year drought, the long hot summer relates more to the desperate search for the quenching refreshment of a story -- maybe even a controversy.
With governments and schools on break, there's just not as much going on. Even Mark Twain would tire of commentary on the fescue development rate.
The only time that may be worse is the winter holiday season. In December of 1990, I gave several interviews about the work I was doing for the Orange County AIDS Service Agency.
At the time, we were raising money to build a group home in Carr-boro and trying to coordinate service within the county.
After doing an interview with this very newspaper, I was asked for a comment about then-Gov. Jim Martin's expressed interest in doing away with North Carolina's anonymous HIV testing program. I said what I thought about it -- that it was a bad idea -- and ended the interview thinking nothing of it.
My opinion on that topic was, after all, nothing especially unusual. Ho-hum.
On Christmas morning, my husband brought the newspaper in and dropped it on the dining room table. We probably didn't even look at it for 10 or 15 minutes.
Rick opened it and his eyes grew wide. There it was, on the front page, above the fold ... a blaring heading that said something like "bolduc blasts governor's testing plan."
We cracked up. Rick's parents were going to arrive later that day, coming down to celebrate the holiday and their 50th wedding anniversary. They were terribly impressed, of course.
Gov. Martin, I joked, was surely trembling that he'd earned my disapproval. He never called.
With this as background, I was particularly amused to read about the recent tribulations of Carrboro Mayor Mike Nelson. He has been blasted by a couple of citizens who didn't like the fact that a controversial piece of art was hung in the mayor's office.
The good mayor, for his part, was busy during the tempest in Carr-boro's teapot.
Immersing himself in Spanish, the mayor was too busy trying to become a better mayor to notice his own neglect.
Oh, yes, he was definitely negligent. Perhaps Nelson should have anticipated all of this and micromanaged Town Hall -- all the way from Mexico, where he has been throughout the flap.
Instead, I'm willing to bet the mayor was more focused on something larger.
A few years ago I covered the town of Carrboro for this newspaper. I attended the annual retreat of the Board of Aldermen.
Nelson and several other members of the board discussed the need for town employees and the Board of Aldermen to think creatively and lead by example in their desire to be responsive to the town's growing Hispanic community.
This was (and is) a community embraced by the town's government. The board discussed the need for emergency responders to have training in Spanish.
Among the things that I remember clearly was that the aldermen themselves cited a desire to lead by example in developing their own second-language skills.
The aldermen and the mayor agreed that they couldn't effectively lead a community that they cannot easily talk to and listen to. Obviously, the good mayor is once again leading by example.
Local-level hurricanes like this are part of doing business in government these days.
I joked with a town employee recently that they must have a running gag about this sort or thing around the office. If there's not much going on in the news, just hide under your desk and don't answer the phone.
He said that they take it in stride and even send their feigned sympathies to the media target of the day. I can hear it now ... the mocking questions of resignation or recall election, dripping with sarcasm. It actually sounds like Carr-boro's style -- not taking itself too seriously.
Meanwhile, the perhaps-ironic point of it all can drift away. Nelson, like most Americans, certainly cares about the sensitivity of whether and how artwork using a swastika is displayed. The more pressing issue, however, is the ultimate protection of speech.
Keeping it free doesn't always mean easy and obvious choices. It requires thought and commitment to serious principles. Defending speech that offends is the ultimate test of those principles.
In this case, if you think the answer is easy, you don't understand the question.

Back to school -- it’s already time
Wednesday, August 06, 2003
You know it's been a slow summer when your teenager glares over at you and declares, "I cannot WAIT for school to start."
Like so many parents, I may have dreamed of this day (when my child would beg to go to school) for years, but never thought it would actually arrive.
I can recall only one summer that boring when I was a kid. It was the summer between my sophomore and junior years in high school -- the summer of 1974.
I couldn't drive yet and so I marked the time, waiting for my 16th birthday (in mid-August) by watching the only thing there was on television.
All day, every day: North Carolina Sen. Sam Ervin and his colleagues grilled John Dean and various others in the Watergate hearings.
It was the ultimate in reality programming.
Thankfully, they wrapped it all up with an exciting finish (President Nixon's resignation) just in time for me to start out on the road. Very considerate, really.
This year, my teenager has only the weapons-of-mass-destruction (where-are-they?) debate to draw him into the drama of national politics. He cannot wait to return to Cedar Ridge High School next Tuesday.
Many business owners, here and elsewhere, are loudly pondering: Why are the kids going back to school so soon?
I'd hate to be trying to run a tourist-driven business like the go-karts, mini-golf or an ocean-front restaurant when my workers have to report to homeroom in the second week of August.
When so many from the Triangle vacation at the North Carolina shore, some of the demand for those services will drop off.
And this doesn't seem to pick up earlier in summer to make up for it as you might anticipate.
The differing schedules of northern states (which still go back to school after Labor Day) means that tourism areas are understaffed when the Yanks march in during August.
This trend toward earlier and earlier starts began so that schools could work one or two more weeks of test preparation in for those wonderful springtime rituals, the end of year tests.
I haven't noticed those results soaring as a result of the "extra time," so I'm coming to agree with those from the tourism industry who advocate for returning to the post-Labor Day kickoff date.
There are, after all, other problems that are created by going back to school when it's routinely very hot.
Dress code restrictions tend to nearly rule out the clothes that teenagers like to wear in summer, requiring their parents to buy some sort of summer-transition period wardrobe. Can it be that our textile industry has been behind this all along?
It's a tricky business dressing a kid for school these days -- nothing too revealing when it's hot and nothing with too many layers or hidden areas when it's cold.
Maybe when they finish that super Wal-Mart in Hillsborough next month they can start construction on the school-weather bubble. Perfect conditions all the time and never the need for an umbrella: our own little biosphere.
Perhaps the bubble will protect the kids and teachers alike from the upcoming autumn hailstorm of merger discussion. The county commissioners' dress code must call for flak jackets and helmets. They'll need them.
So go to bed early and get a good breakfast boys and girls.
It's back to school next week. And don't forget the sunscreen. The bus might be late.

They seem so young -- the parents, that is
Wednesday, August 27, 2003 I came to Chapel Hill in October of 1978, relocated for my husband's job with Blue Cross & Blue Shield. I was a child of 20 at the time. It wasn't until the next fall (when I had just turned 21) that I experienced the seismic adjustment that Chapel Hill goes through when the students hit town.
That fall, I remember distinctly a day just after the students arrived. I was driving down Franklin Street and the place was literally swarming with wide-eyed freshmen. You can pick them out...they're the ones walking with parents who are toting checklists and looking somewhat more worried and exhausted.
At the time, I felt a little jealous, to be quite honest. I had dropped out of school and gotten married.
I decided that my education would have to wait until I was settled in with the man I loved. It was a good decision, but had its moments of second-guessing -- usually in the autumn.
I remember looking at the students and thinking that they looked just like me.
I felt as though I could just blend right in with them. I may have even been in high school with some of them, I thought. It was almost eerie.
When I returned to school 15 years later, I didn't exactly blend in. Unlike my classmates at Carolina, I had two kids, a husband and in-laws with failing health at home.
I also had a more keen appreciation, I think, of how precious an experience it was to be in college. I wouldn't trade that piece of my college degree for anything.
This past weekend, I was walking through the parking lot at Eastgate when a minivan drove up slowly behind me. "Excuse me...," said the voice behind the wheel. "Do you live around here?"
My husband and I spun around and confirmed our being "locals."
"We're looking for a grocery store," said the somewhat frazzled mom behind the wheel. "The sign over there says that a Food Lion is coming soon, but we need one today," she said.
We explained the route to the Harris Teeter at University Mall and offered our wishes of good luck in finding it.
Clearly, this was a kid-drop-off trip and mom and dad were getting pretty worn out with the whole settling-in process.
And boy, I could relate. Just a couple of years ago, I was settling my older son into his dorm at N.C. State and felt like I was in the land of the lost trying to find anything for him in Raleigh.
Oh, it's not as far away, but his dorm seemed to be in the corner of campus that was convenient to absolutely nothing.
And so there I stood, giving directions and looking at the nice woman, who was about my age.
I felt like I was seeing my life flash before my eyes -- or maybe just a complement to the set of bookends begun in 1979.
When people come here to school, they often return and declare "they've ruined the place."
Thinking back on this particular set of experiences, I am stunned at how much of Chapel Hill is so very much the same as it was when we arrived here.
That includes, of course, the fact that the party's over for us locals when it comes to getting dinner reservations or enjoying easy parking when we eat at Pepper's Pizza or the Rat. It'll be Thanksgiving or Christmas before the streets fall quiet again.
We never want them to be silent, like famous Sam and his musket. After all, he's vigilant but lifeless. Thankfully, downtown Chapel Hill -- though ever-changing -- is anything but that.

Carrboro mayor’s race is a puzzler
Wednesday, August 13, 2003
With an offensive flag flapping in the breeze of an otherwise relatively uneventful summer, there are some bizzarr-o goings-on in the not-very-contested race for the mayor's seat in Carrboro.
This game of musical chairs lacks the usual shortage of seats to make the game interesting. Normally, you'd think that a swell job like being a small-town mayor (something you needn't quit your day job for) would attract a couple of folks with differing opinions to at least play-wrestle for the votes of the citizens -- but not in this case.
The mayor's race hasn't been genuinely contested in recent years and it certainly isn't due to lack of interest on the part of the citizenry.
Carrboro is a politically active and engaged town. When it sets up planning sessions on a beautiful spring afternoon, it can fill a school cafeteria with residents just brimming with thoughtful ideas for how to make the place better. People know who their local officials are -- they call them by name on the street. They call them at home with problems.
And that may be the down side of serving as mayor of a small town, but Mike Nelson has never made any secret of the fact that he loves all of it. He goes to ribbon-cuttings and award ceremonies small, medium and large. I covered a meeting he went to with local business owners to talk about ways in which the town could better support the development of the music and entertainment businesses that have recently cropped up in Carrboro.
Nelson mentioned to me after the meeting (a luncheon) that he was not feeling well. He'd just come from the dentist. It was important to keep the date, he said, so he ordered soft food and tried not to grimace openly.
When Nelson's office (not him, just the four walls allotted to him by the town for ceremonial purposes) got wrapped up in the recent flag flap, it was, in fact, a nonresident of Carr-boro, Todd Melet, who got his knickers in a twist over the fact that a controversial piece of art was displayed in the mayor's office.
Knowing that he couldn't run for mayor himself, Melet cajoled a friend, Robert Glosson, to challenge Nelson for his seat. Glosson, it should be noted, seems to live in a peculiar part of Carrboro that allows him to vote for mayor but not seek the office.
Somebody needs to 'splain that one to us laypeople who are still trying to understand the Florida butterfly and the California remake of "Total Recall."
According to a story in The last Friday, a complaint was filed with the Board of Elections, but they won't investigate because it was made through an attorney who is not a resident of Carrboro.
Huh?
Glosson, for his part, agreed to withdraw from the race, but wanted Mike Nelson to withdraw also and thereby reopen the filing period for another five days.
Now that's perfectly logical, isn't it?
A duly elected public official, who has absolutely never been accused of any wrongdoing, malfeasance, official misconduct or anything worse than having bad taste in art, should withdraw from an uncontested re-election campaign in order to suit the "need" for fairness as described by someone who doesn't live in his town.
What does Melet think this is, California? Only there can you yank a public official out of office due to buyer's remorse. The rest of us have to suffer along until the next election cycle.
It's one trend that the Golden State can keep to itself.

Merger something to talk about
Wednesday, September 03, 2003 Bonnie Raitt said it best with her song, "Let's give 'em something to talk about, a little mystery to figure out."
We can't know if that was the song Moses Carey just couldn't get out of his head in January when he tossed the idea of merging Orange county's two school districts onto the county commissioners' planning table. It would sure make a good story if that's what inspired the move.
Tomorrow night, the Chapel Hill-Carrboro school board will put the issue on the table in a most delicate manner. The board is expected to discuss only whether and how the district should disseminate public information about the prospects for merger.
Superintendent Neil Pedersen will ask his board for direction on whether the public should be entitled to view the report that he and his county colleagues have generated for the commissioners. The report is supposed to outline the programs offered by each district and the anticipated effects of merger, offering something of an "apples-to-apples" comparison.
It's a curiosity that Pedersen needs this "direction." I mean, is he kidding? This is a report that outlines what the programs are in two public school districts and he needs instruction about whether or not to make it public?
It's our report. We paid for it. If a final document (ready for the commissioners' review) exists, it should be posted to the Web sites of both districts immediately.
With all the chatter going on about officials of all sorts having a burning desire to hear what the public wants regarding merger, it's more than a little curious that Pedersen would need direction here.
And skip the hair splitting that this is about the issue of spending money on printing a zillion copies of this report. That dog won't hunt. It would cost the district exactly zero to publish this to the districts' Web sites and certainly this newspaper and its competitors would gladly publish the material in the interest of generating a robust public debate on the issue.
Pedersen does not anticipate that the board will discuss the merger itself tomorrow, just the discrete issue of whether or how to disseminate this report to the community. The board will be wise to avoid that discussion and avoid the clumsy conduct of its county colleagues, who have publicly and emotionally stumbled into a discussion on merger already while discussing whether or not to survey parents on the issue.
The county decided to do the survey in the end, but it is tainted by the stench of frontier justice -- first we'll give the accused a fair trial, then we'll hang him.
Chapel Hill-Carrboro may be keeping its cards closer to the vest, but their perspective is likely the same. Those signing petitions and turning up the heat on this issue tend to focus on the "what people want" aspect of it. Somehow, a referendum (not required by law) is touted as the more democratic means of deciding the issue.
It's not. It's a way to appear demo-cratic while effectively throwing one's hands aloft and resigning the issue to the whim of southern Orange County. Chapel Hill and Carrboro's population numbers mean that what they say (as an electorate) is what would happen.
You know it's got to be hard for the members of both school boards to effectively stay out of this for now and keep their mouths shut. They were elected to these positions because they wanted to lead the community on the critical issue of educating kids. To have such an important aspect of how that is accomplished decided by others is a potentially frustrating situation.
But clamming up and facilitating the public debate is what they must do right now. Listening to the people you serve is an extremely important task for an elected official, too. Putting solid, factual information in the hands of parents and the community at large is a critical role that educators must play right now. At this stage of this process, it is the most mature kind of leadership -- the kind that gives the masses some credit for knowing what they're looking at.
And this, by the way, is what the commissioners are ultimately seeking -- feedback from an informed public and the fruit of a robust public debate.
The report is going to be presented to the commissioners on Sept. 15, which means it will be in the board's agenda packet (and on the county's Web site) prior to that. In fact, it may be posted on the county's Web site by the end of this week.
That being the case, Pedersen's "request for direction" would seem to be a red herring and this is no time to be fishing.

The courage of our convictions
Wednesday, September 10, 2003
As the second anniversary of the infamous September attacks approaches, I'm reminded of my first reaction when I put on my television and watched in horror as the first World Trade Center building fell, then the next followed.
I was home-schooling my son two years ago. Obviously, our lesson plan vanished and we were mesmerized as we saw our definition of freedom rewritten by terrorists.
Beyond the likely loss of life, my first thought was that now, as a nation, we would see if we had the courage of our convictions.
Now we will see, I thought, just how much we are devoted to being a free and open society. Now we will learn what our commitment to free speech looks like. After all, if we are not willing to defend the right to speak of those who offend us, then we are not committed to free speech at all.
There will be investigations, I thought. There should be questions -- hard questions -- about whether or how the attacks might have been thwarted. If Americans can embrace that asking questions is just as patriotic as following the leader, we'll be OK.
My son and I, like most Americans, were glued to the television that day and for many that followed.
The towers were in New York, but intuitively, we watched the skies of Chapel Hill, which were also ominously clear as a bell that day. It is the first time I remember feeling nervous while driving around in Orange County. I only wanted to be at home.
As the news streamed in we learned that there were, in fact, reports of other planes in Washington and Pennsylvania.
Knowing the close proximity of the Pentagon to the White House, the monuments near the mall and the Capitol, my heart just sank thinking about the very possibility of a plane striking one of those most important symbols.
The attack struck at the hearts of all of us. The response in the two years since has been felt on every level of government, from local police to mall security to airport searches. In truth, we are less free today.
But the cycle of shock and adjustment has meant that now we, as a nation, are asking more questions. Regardless of the answers, this is a good thing. What we need most to remain free and safe is information that we can rely on. We need the truth.
In a very odd way, all of this really struck home in the last week as I read the many stories and letters and commentaries on the question of merging the Orange County and Chapel Hill-Carrboro school districts.
Likewise, in considering this question and doing some research, my eyes were opened on several fronts, but none more than the overall similarity of one single thing -- through this debate we will learn if our community has the courage of its convictions.
After all, the Orange County community is home to one of the great universities in the United States if not the world. It is a cradle for higher learning, and the entire community is simply swimming with resources, both human and otherwise, to support the education of children and young adults.
North of Interstate 40 we have seen a significant influx of Duke families who have located here for our more rural landscape. This demographic doesn't change the fact that this northern landscape is much more heavily populated with farm acres than is southern Orange County.
That has a significant impact on our tax base and our potential for leveling the funding between our two systems.
But now, as the debate is about to surge forward in earnest, we are left with only one clear objective: doing what is in the long-term interests of our children.
At this stage, no responsible person should have a position on what that is going to look like.
While this doesn't have the implications of a criminal trial, it wouldn't hurt us to think of ourselves as a jury, finders of fact.
We should be wary of those who view the prospects of merger as a political battle or other kind of power struggle.
For example, the Orange County Board of Education is just about the only thing left that we in northern Orange County have separate voting power over. Retaining that power is no more reason to block a merger than fear of unknown social consequences.
The commissioners will hear the first wave of information next Monday at the Battle Courtroom in the county courthouse in Hillsborough. It will be refreshing to see where the actual facts lead us all.

Symbolism is thick in merger talks
Wednesday, September 17, 2003
"Spellbinding."
That's how Commissioner Steve Halkiotis described the reports and proceedings Monday night in the ultimately appropriate venue for discussing school merger -- the Battle Courtroom in the Orange County Courthouse.
The comment drew a giggle from the crowd, as was likely the good commissioner's intent. Lighten up everybody; it's not a murder trial.
But the debate over merger, now technically in its infancy, is one that will heat up the community, and Halkiotis knows it better than anyone. He reminded the crowd that he cautioned his colleagues back on that January afternoon when Moses Carey first put merger on the table.
Be careful as you put this train on the track, Halkiotis cautioned. He was right. A runaway train is a dangerous thing.
And his prediction, that alliances of proponents and opponents would form ranks before the facts were even laid out, has proven so accurate that nearby Virginians are probably calling Halkiotis before buying their lottery tickets.
There are already anti-merger stickers to wear. Perhaps they're manufactured by Orange school board member Randy Copeland, who said earlier this week that he had not read the county's report on merger impact, but that didn't matter to him because he opposes merger.
Part of the opposition formed has been the online petition, which includes such educational luminaries as Barney Rubble and Fred Flintstone.
Several lines of the unregulated document are consumed not by names, but instead by comments like "Sign your name to the list of shame."
That's the problem with online "petitions": They're invalid.
And so, according to county attorney Geof Gledhill, is the notion that a referendum can or should take place. He advised the commissioners and the crowd -- more than once -- that a referendum is not permitted in a merger initiated by the commissioners.
The crowd was polite and attentive throughout the meeting and the matter-of-fact announcement to this effect by Gledhill did not trigger demonstrations or outbursts. The only sound I heard was wind escaping the sails of merger's opposition. Time for Plan B.
Not surprisingly, the salient argument of the night came from Carey, merger's champion and the county's longtime leader.
What we have to ask ourselves, he said, is whether or not we would choose to create two separate systems if we were beginning from scratch today. Carey said only one person thus far has answered "yes" to that question.
At its essence, the issue squarely before us is a civil rights issue. It is one of equal opportunity. The special district tax in Chapel Hill was initiated about 50 years ago. To my recollection, that about the same time that the Brown v. Board of Education decision came down from the U.S. Supreme Court.
Back then, there were two school districts in Chapel Hill.
I'm guessing that the paler of the two probably got that district tax passed. When the two systems were forced to integrate, the district tax survived that merger. According to county officials, it can technically survive this one, too, though it would be zeroed out when the merger occurs and funding mechanism shifts to the county.
That in itself has prompted rallying cries of dreaded tax increases. In point of fact, for Chapel Hill-Carrboro families, their 20-cent special district tax would be reduced to 17 cents per hundred dollars of value.
A tax that was born in racism should be sent to its place of eternal rest in North Carolina's history books. There is no better person than Carey to make that argument as he sits in the county courthouse, the very seat of justice for the community.
This is not to say that merger should be a certainty. It should not. All possible options should be brought to bear and the "boxes" of predisposed thinking should be eschewed.
But the special district tax should be repealed. Because of the dramatic changes driven by the more affluent development in Chapel Hill, the tax has created a multi-million dollar gap in funding that is inherently unfair.
As Chapel Hill-Carrboro's growth demands more school construction in the coming decade (if the systems remain separate), we'll all get to pay for it, even as only Chapel Hill-Carrboro kids benefit from the new facilities.
Two hundred fifteen years ago, Hillsborough was the site of North Carolina's Constitutional Convention. The story goes that that was a pretty controversial merger, too. At that moment of truth, delegates insisted that a Bill of Rights be included before ratification.
So despite claims that the county cares less about education that the city, demanding equal opportunity and fair taxation is nothing new. Hillsborough has a storied history in this regard. I guess you can't quite believe everything you hear, no matter how loud the clatter.

Parade’s name gets across the point
Wednesday, September 24, 2003
If you remember Gilda Radner's slightly deaf character Emily Latella, you had to get a good howl out of the "Dykes march in celebration" story in this newspaper on Monday.
For those too young to recall, Emily would appear on Saturday Night Live's "Weekend Update" and would launch into a spectacular rant about a misunderstood topic. Among the classics was, "What's all this I hear about violins on television?!"
On she'd go, explaining why classical music is a good thing to have on television and why it was that people were being outrageous and intolerant in complaining about it. The anchor would eventually interrupt, explaining that, no, the fuss was about violence on television, not violins.
"Oh, I see," Emily would say. "That's entirely different ... nevermind."
Monday's story featured a headline that I'll have to admit I had a little trouble with. I just had a hard time getting past the front page of the newspaper featuring a headline that read "Dykes march in celebration."
It all ran through my mind like greased lightning. The angry letters, the canceled subscriptions, the agonizing explanations of how the newspaper totally didn't meant to offend anyone.
Hey, the news business is tough. Headlines I looked at in high school as being unremarkable might spark angry protest today. It's unlikely, after all, that anyone would refer to Martin Luther King Jr. as a "Negro leader" now, but it was common back then.
Regardless, I had visions of retractions and regret...and I didn't even write the headline!
But then, I started reading the story. There I found that the event's name was the basis for the headline, not some insensitive headline scribe. In fact, the more I read about it, the more I giggled at myself. It seems that last year's parade featured topless dykes marching in celebration.
My older son commented that he should have gone to the parade -- not only to support his gay friends, but also to take in the view. Perhaps the paper missed the chance to increase its younger readership by not running a carefully chosen file photo to go with Monday's story.
Although I have certainly used the word dyke with my gay friends (in good humor, of course) I have tended to think of it in pejorative terms. The word "dyke" is defined by the dictionary as an insulting term, a "disparaging term for a lesbian" says the American Heritage College Dictionary. It doesn't offer a second usage that would make it the source of pride.
So I was taken aback when I read the headline. When I read the rest of the story, I was just in stitches.
It seems that one onlooker was initially confused about the parade, having misread the sign. She said that she thought the parade had something to do with Duke -- hence my vision of dear Emily Latella.
"What's all this I hear about Duke's marching in celebration? Don't they know this is Franklin Street, the heart of the UNC campus? Don't they have their own town to march in to show their pride in their own school? I thought these two schools were rivals, anyway! Does this mean that Tar Heel fans are going to descend on Ninth Street? It isn't right I tell you!..."
Well, you get the picture.
My curiosity about the whole thing led me to the dykemarch.org Web site which explained the history and mission of the march, now in its 11th year.
My reaction to the word "dyke" is part of what the organizers are trying to get after. They want to define themselves, not be defined by others, and rise above labels and stereotyping. Taking the attack to the words themselves is a good approach, especially for words that are eyebrow-raising but not widely thought of as obscenities.
But having watched the Emmy awards with great interest on Sunday night (because a member of my extended family actually won one) I am reminded that we're all making good progress on the getting-past-the-labels thing.
The now infamous Britney Spears-Madonna slurpfest is totally yesterday's news, now that we got to watch Brad Garrett plant one on Garry Shandling at the opening of the broadcast. I'm sure there were at least some who were offended, but you know what? It was FUNNY.
And it was funny when Milton Berle and Sid Caeser did similar shtick 50 years ago, too. According to the song "As Time Goes By" a kiss is still a kiss and a smile is still a smile.
Nevermind.

Frustrated with DMV? Get in line
Wednesday, October 01, 2003 My son is taking Driver's Education at Cedar Ridge High School in breathless anticipation of securing his learner's permit and then, of course, his license.
He'd like to get his permit before Christmas, so he should probably be in line right now.
A driver's education course cannot be complete without an overview of the fine art of surviving the Department of Motor Vehicles. Specifically, I draw the attention of every would-be driver to the arena of the driver's license office.
I say would-be on account of the fact that my father (a life actuary) always told us that within a certain population (if the number is big enough), some number of people will expire within a fixed time period. Every day in North Carolina there are so many people spending so much time standing in line to get something done at a license office of DMV, they are bound to have an official mortality rate.
This summer, I mentioned to a friend that at long last (it's been eight years) my license was up for renewal.
She immediately admonished me to make an appointment or I'd lose half a day waiting in line.
Now this friend meant well, of course, but she's a very busy and successful attorney and I just thought she was demonstrating that she doesn't have an hour to waste standing in a line.
She travels a lot for business and it still amazes me that she hasn't been carried off by security at an airport out of the sheer frustration of that experience in recent years.
Still, taking her warning as somewhat more than histrionics, I swung by the DMV office in Hillsborough several weeks before my birthday. The line was out the door. I was there at lunchtime and thought ... look at all the nice people with a birthday today. Too bad for them that they waited to the last minute.
I asked around. Nightmare stories began to flow. Stories of two- and three-hour waits.
In late July I called the Hillsborough office and asked about making an appointment (before my August birthday). Next one available was after mid-September.
"How long is the wait?" I asked.
"It's about three hours, ma'am," he answered.
"Is it any better in the other offices? Are you understaffed?" I continued.
"Where do you live?" he said.
Yes, that was his response ... to ask me where I live. Red Flag #1.
"Chapel Hill," I said.
"There's an office in Carrboro and you can go to the Durham office," he said.
"Yeah, I know that," I said, "but that's not what I asked you. I asked if the wait is any shorter in the other offices. Is it?"
"It's the same everywhere," he said. Now he sounded weary.
"Is it better first thing in the morning?" I continued.
"No," he said. "It's the same all day."
Interesting. That must mean that if I got there at the moment the office opened, there'd be a three-hour queue of people waiting ahead of me. If they open at 8 a.m. or 8:30, that puts somebody out there in line before 6 a.m. every day.
Impossible.
As my birthday approached, I was determined that I was not going to spend it in line at the DMV, so I ventured out to Carrboro Plaza and hauled myself into the line already formed there a half-hour before opening. There were about 25 people ahead of me. I figured the wait would be an hour, once they opened the office.
I was wrong.
For no reason, I was stranded in this line for two hours after the doors opened -- two and half total. When it was finally my turn, I saw a significant part of the reason why -- two problems, really.
Regardless of your reason for being there, everyone is in one line. An uncomplicated, two-minute, clean-record renewal like mine is standing behind a person who has multiple tasks ahead and may chew up 20 minutes of processing.
Second, the examiner who I went to decided that it was time for her to vent to me about how stressful her job is.
She'd had a boyfriend a while ago, but he left her, she said, because she brought the job home with her.
That's right ... I guess when she arrived each night, there were people lined up around her house, unable to legally drive home.
She went on and on and on. Eventually, I told her to please get on with my renewal as the people in line behind me would jump me if they saw her yapping away while they waited.
"I don't care," she said. "There's gonna be people waiting all day. It's like this all the time."
Stay tuned for my foolproof plan for curing this scourge. It will address the economic impact as well as providing citizens with the visceral satisfaction of righting this terrible wrong.

Fixing DMV’s wagon easy, quick
Wednesday, October 08, 2003
When I wrote last week that I had the solution for our state's licensing renewal operation, I may as well have declared that I had a cure for a dreaded disease or a chicken for every pot. Heads nodded with approval of my criticism (waiting two hours for a three-minute renewal process is obscene) and my solution may shove school merger off the front page for a day -- that's just how big an idea this is.
One reader wrote, "[I] am eagerly awaiting your foolproof plan for curing the scourge of the DMV's drivers' license bureaus! I experienced my own disillusionment back in August STANDING in lines (I am 65 and could barely do this) and found myself, along with nearly everyone else, berated, rejected and sent away for more documentation so I had to return and stand some more, simply to renew the license I've had for 32 years."
Thank you for writing, Marie, though I still have a palm print on my forehead from reading that one.
Never daunted by a challenge, I have made the unselfish decision to run for governor of North Carolina on a DMV reform platform. Here's what I will do once "elected."
I will shut down the Department of Motor Vehicles' licensing operation and automatically extend every expired license for one year. No new licenses will be issued in the 12 months following my election.
I just won the vote of every parent of a 14-year old.
Next I will put out for bid the entire operation of driver's license renewal as an Information Systems project. Private companies will develop innovative ways to process 80 percent of renewals (routine, uncomplicated) but they could start with simple changes like these:
*When you receive your reminder postcard telling you that your license will soon expire, it will also tell you if your driving record is clean (no points) or, if not, will verify how many points you have.
If you have a clean record, you will automatically be issued an appointment good for your renewal. You can call and change it if you want, but you must give seven
days notice to do so. Because you're a good driver, you'll be in and out of the office in 15 minutes or less by using this appointment.
*If you have points on your record, you'll be given a different appointment -- one for a longer time because you'll have to re-take the written test.
These will be offered and supervised via any number of options, including use of the community college system or a notary public. All you really need to verify is that a licensed person whose signature cannot be bought actually watched you take the test. Actually, any licensed public school teacher should be able to open a small business proctoring DMV tests on Saturday mornings.
The more complicated innovations could include developing the capability to complete the renewal at an ATM-like device at a mall kiosk. After you get your reminder notice and a user name and password, you'd go to the mall and this gadget would take your picture (which you can do over and over again until you get one that looks something like you) and transmit it back to headquarters in Raleigh.
There, a new license is created and mailed to the address registered with DMV. If the mail is good enough for issuing a credit card, it should be good enough for this. They can be spot-checked against existing licenses to make sure that the photos are close enough.
Getting this done in an almost completely automated and user-friendly way should be one of the perks of keeping your driving record clean as the well-known whistle.
As for people who work for DMV, my administration will have a whole new approach. These folks will not work for the government, they'll work for the private company that wins the contract. They will have financial incentives that will relate to an old but still viable concept that I like to call "customer service."
The employee who processes the most registrations and gets the most glowing reports on the "how's my processing?" feedback card issued with your license will win cash or a prize each month. There will be a winner of some kind in each DMV service office each month.
Yes, that's right, they will be called "service" offices and will be open seven days a week.
If you work there for six months and have never placed in the top five performers of renewals, you're on probation, ready to be fired if you don't improve.
One more thing. Fees will go up. My prediction is that we'll all be happy to pay a little more in order to get shafted a little less.
Naturally, if Gov. Easley does all this before I get elected, I'll just have to live with that. I can console myself by going for a drive.

Plan sounds good, doesn’t deliver
Wednesday, October 22, 2003
Where would Orange County Schools' parents be without the protection of Neil Pedersen? Stranded in the dark selling pencils for a nickel, I suppose.
Pedersen was asked by his board's leadership to present some non-merger options to the board. This, incidentally, is apparently how the Chapel Hill-Carrboro board defines "staying out of it" where the commissioners' merger discussions are concerned. (I would take a more strict interpretation myself - something along the lines of actually staying out of it.)
In his Oct. 9 memo to his board, Pedersen begins with the expected tax increase that would be mandated by a merger. "This would amount to approximately a 25-percent property tax increase for homeowners and businesses in the OCS district, an amount that can be expected to be not only unpopular but also a real financial hardship on many residents," he writes.
It would seem the presumption is that what is a "commitment for great schools" in Chapel Hill is a "potential burden" to me and Huck Finn out here in the land of the plow and bandana.
Pedersen's proposal, which is curiously timed to coincide with the district tax agenda item of county schools' chairman Keith Cook, is essentially one that presses to put a district tax on county residents and a bunch of we-promise-we'll-collaborate paragraphs that discuss all sorts of time- and money-saving reasons to stop short of merger.
Now the funny part is that the untrained eye might buy into this malarkey.
In almost one breath, Pedersen points to the areas where the two districts already collaborate and specifies transportation, for example. Without dropping a stitch, he makes passing mention of the dreaded "long bus rides" that many parents are citing as the reason they fear merger.
But why would that happen when the two districts transportation systems are already so well-coordinated?
So let's pause on that one just a moment.
I read a quote from a parent in the paper the other day that would have had me in stitches if it weren't so serious. A father said that he liked the Chapel Hill school where his child goes because it's in walking distance from his house. He feared that merger would end that.
"A lot of people are worried about long bus rides and redistricting," he said.
Somehow, an intelligent man actually believes that merging the two districts might take his elementary age child, put him/her on a bus for an hour and ship this kid off to a county school. Nonsense.
It is beyond absurd to think that any school board would take such action and it is worse to remain uninformed and fear change simply in order to avoid it.
And there's more. School board members (and many school staffers, no doubt) are implying that some programs may be in jeopardy because of the possible merger of the districts. This is offered as some form of "caution" but it is essentially sabotage -- a way of killing the commissioners' process by throwing a blanket of uncertainty over virtually any specific area of interest within either district.
These gyrations, whispers and distractions are in large part being generated by the two districts, their boards and staffs, yet this process of evaluating merger is a process of the county commissioners, not one of either district.
And at this point, we're beginning to see the essence of the differences between our two districts.
Chapel Hill-Carrboro is driving a luxury automobile and has convinced itself that luxury automobiles are worth the extra money and are convinced that the extra investment explains better road handling and overall satisfaction.
Orange County is driving a mid-range sedan and feels that the added investment in leather interior and alloy wheels won't get you to work any sooner. We have airbags and seat belts, too. We're not in the dark ages.
But neither of us wants to drive the other guy's ride. If the districts don't merge, we'll each get to ignore the other side's argument and the divide will continue to grow. Not just the money. Not just the architecture of the school buildings -- the growing and conspicuous gap between our two communities.
To merge the schools and our communities, we're going to have to get on the bus -- the big yellow one -- that shuttles our kids to school and back. We're going to have to put on the table the 85 percent of all stuff that we agree on (safe schools, best teaching practices, equal opportunity for college, strong athletics, diverse sports opportunities, effective administrative management) so we can clear the way to resolve the 15 percent where we find our differences.
If we were to approach merger constructively, we'd likely find that the 15 percent could provide us with valuable diversity and some of the strength that specialized choices can bring. This could range from building a project house to science classes that offer remote virus manipulation via the Internet or a magnet International Baccalaureate high school.
First, we have to decide if it's better to reinforce walls or build bridges.

Irony abounds in merger hearings
Wednesday, October 29, 2003
Calling the merger debate between Orange County's two school districts a culture clash is just too tame an expression for the apparently plaid versus polka dots perspectives voiced at the second public hearing last week.
I think of it more as the irony from hell.
As I looked around the Cedar Ridge High School auditorium, I wondered what constructive cause would bring 500 parents out on a Thursday night. I was tempted to take to the podium myself and tell the commissioners to take a good, long look at that crowd. More than any other factor, this is the reason kids succeed. These people -- not the school system -- make that happen.
These are the parents who pay attention, who know what's going on at their child's school, in the classroom and in the play group. They're involved, informed and take action to make opportunity happen.
And there they sat, side by side, the city folk and the county folk, many on the same side -- opposed to merger. Nearly half the attendees felt compelled to wear stickers, labels or other displays on their person that said "no merger."
And there they sat, side by side, ironically united in their opposition to their children doing the same thing in a classroom.
One parent decried the commissioners' discussions of merger as a naked attempt to commit a "massive transfer of wealth" from Orange County's southern population toward the north.
Uh ... so what? The shared communal responsibility for educating children is the definition of public education.
Next came the dreaded busing argument. This one we heard over and over again, scolding the commissioners that they were condemning the little lambs of the city district to ride long hours per week to get to their new schools out in the middle of nowhere.
But then Orange County parent David Laudicina, who has been a fixture of volunteerism for the last decade, took to the microphone and asked the simple, elegant question: Why has it been OK all these years to bus a kid who lives spitting distance from McDougle Elementary to Grady Brown? Doesn't that kid deserve a neighborhood school, too?
The big bad threat of busing makes for a grabbing news headline (one report warned that 1,600 might be shipped out to the county) but the actual expectation of the districts is that most of the changes would not be seen or felt until nearly 10 years from now, when the shift in facilities versus population would actually occur.
That's more than enough time to plan elementary to middle school transitions, which is where much of that shift would occur. Where's the trauma?
Laudicina, like many of us, has been around long enough to have grown weary of this fish story of cooperation, too. He heard all about it when East Chapel Hill High was offered to voters as a bond issue, he said. He's not buying this time.
And he shouldn't. If they succeed in blocking a merger, it's laughable to think these warring factions would willingly embrace cooperative programs. They've had dozens of chances to do so already and nothing but turf warfare has resulted.
And then there was John Hartwell, a former county commissioner himself. The good Mr. Hartwell pointed out to his former colleagues that the county has pursued responsible land-use public policy. Of course there is a concentration of higher priced and more heavily settled real estate in the Chapel Hill-Carrboro area, he said. That's exactly what we've planned for decades now.
We established a rural buffer, he said. We have avoided the waste of sprawl. As a matter of preserving the rural character of the county's unspoiled farmlands, the northern half of the county is clearly disadvantaged in raising revenue from property taxes. A special district tax on the county simply cannot level this playing field.
The commissioners do not feign surprise at this disparity. They have seen this train coming for years.
Hartwell cited an inspired quote from his days as a commissioner back in the early 1980s when a member of a merger study group said, "You get the money where the money is and you spend the money where the children are."
The commissioners, so integrally involved in this complex brew of competing issues, know this better than any panel of elected officials who oversee budgets and policy.
There was applause for merger. There was support. Those voices tended to be voices of reason and logic. The angry, fearful opposition made a lot more noise.
And on the way home, after leaping to their feet to shout for a vote on a matter their self-interest clouds, they probably complain that elected leaders aren't willing to make tough decisions without checking the political winds.
Yet the commissioners wouldn't be on this hot seat if the opposite weren't true. They have wisely rejected pressure to hurry up, to slow down or to do anything other than what they said they would do about merger -- think about it, talk about it and learn what it would mean.

5 of top 10 reasons to nix merger
Wednesday, November 05, 2003
If citing a top 10 list is good enough for attorney David Rudolf in trying to spare his client life in prison, I thought it might a be a good device for summarizing the top reasons listed so far by opponents of merging the Chapel Hill-Carrboro and Orange County schools.
Read the list of comments from those who attended the public hearings on merger and you will help yourself to some of the most superficial arguments for avoiding a merger of the county's two school districts. Those cited directly are in quotes. Here are five of my top ten, with the rest to follow next week.
Reason #10: Busing. Except for logic, this one could really gain some traction. So many bad memories and fears going back to forced integration ... it's practically a knee-jerk reaction that if the schools are thrown together, it's bound to mean some sweet little kid is yanked out of his comfortable elementary school right down the street from home and shipped to Alaska (or Efland Cheeks Elementary) to fend for himself on the barren land, returning home at midnight each school day, not recognizing his parents.
But reality intrudes. In a merged district, most students will still go to the schools they would have attended anyway, especially at the elementary level and more especially in the then-former city school district.
The real fear here (regarding facilities) is not merger at all -- it's redistricting. Once a new middle school (or two) comes along, Chapel Hill-Carrboro is going to go through redistricting regardless of what happens with merger.
Reason #9: The mixture of populations, or what I call middle-school misoneism (a hatred or fear of change). Getting more to the heart of it, merger opponents fear that their middle-grade children will get mixed in with kids from "that other district." This condescension is a curiously equal problem, except when there are awards to be distributed, such as the county Human Relations Commission's Pauli Murray awards. Then, both districts are all about tolerance, outreach, the realization that only one race matters -- the human race -- and there are many fine speeches and essays about the strength and bond formed through appreciating diversity.
Reason #8: Democracy (let the voters decide). "The commissioners weren't elected on a pro-merger platform," writes one stern opponent, who also promises a lawsuit. Great point, but I don't remember Lyndon Johnson getting elected on a "Voting Rights Act" platform and I missed the part where George Bush got elected on an "invade Iraq" platform.
Things come up. Leaders see situations evolve and make judgments as they govern. Their judgment and effectiveness is how we decide whether or not to re-elect them.
Regarding the proposed merger, the commissioners have become aware that in 10 years there is going to be an absolutely untenable problem in this county in regards to the facilities provided by and for our public schools. You don't address a problem like that eight years from now. You look at it now and that's what they're doing -- looking at it.
If they failed to examine merger seriously, voters would have a basis to remove them for their gross incompetence. Tens of millions of dollars and the very fabric of the school system are at stake. An ostrich-inspired deference to "whatever the people want" is a cheap and gutless excuse for leadership -- one that the commissioners have not succumbed to as yet. Put simply, this is what they were elected to do.
Reason #7: Moses Carey is inflicting his agenda on his colleagues. One might suppose that if this were the case, Carey would have done so when in a different situation politically -- like just after being re-elected, or when he was chairman of the Board of County Commissioners.
Reason #6: A merger cannot be reversed. Oh, to live in California now that the winds are whipping and the forest is dry? Merging the districts would mean months or years of planning and commitment to minimize disruption to children. So, yes, like mixing paint, it cannot be undone.
That does not mean, however, that the school district would be completely void of any ability to establish creative stand-alone programs and even district-supported charter schools within the county if it chose to do so.
And the point to ponder in the intermission is this: It's interesting to read all the comments and notice the total lack of focus on one very important certainty -- the future is going to arrive whether we build this highway or not.

Foes’ top 5 reasons for nixing merger
Wednesday, November 12, 2003
My "Top 10" list continues with the top five reasons offered by opponents for just saying no to merging the Orange County and Chapel Hill-Carrboro schools.
Reason #5: Chapel Hill-Carrboro will no longer be the top district in the state. This, it is argued, will threaten not only community pride in the school district, but also potentially injure property values in Chapel Hill and Carrboro.
Let's take the easiest part first. Having your property gain in value isn't a civil right; it's the benefit of good speculation. Regardless, as long as UNC continues to grow and add students, the pressure on our housing market will continue to drive values up, much to the chagrin of affordable-housing advocates.
As for being No. 1, if the Chapel Hill-Carrboro district really has the magic formula for making students soar, why wouldn't it apply to those county students added to the mix? Could it be that the district's magic formula is just the advantage of having more college-educated parents?
Reason #4: Administrative savings are being oversold. There's something to this. It's unlikely there will be administrative savings by merging the districts. It's more likely those costs that disappear will be replaced by new costs created by the merger.
That said, this is going to be as difficult as any issue to measure, because there's apparently not a single, clear answer to the question of how many administrative staff members work in the city schools.
Columnist Stanley Peele was unsuccessful in his effort to resolve this question, and he presented himself at Lincoln Center to ask it. Frankly, of all the things I've read about merger in the last six months, his column on this was among the most shocking.
The county district told Peele it had 954 adults dealing with students, not including bus drivers. The city schools told him 1,653 were employed, 969 of them as teachers. But they also told him another office would have better numbers.
The second inquiry brought a different number -- 1,071 "professionals" and 675 "others." After receiving conflicting information, the judge called for clarification, bounced around and then passed off to an answering machine. He got no return call.
That rather neatly brings me to Reason #3: Bigger isn't Better. Again, a fair point, but more a caution than a reason for not going forward. Most of this argument comes from the county side, as we have all heard horror stories about large districts being overly bureaucratic and insensitive to the needs of individuals. Don't we all want to support our smaller, more locally controlled district, even if it costs a little more?
Maybe we'd like to think so, but it seems to me that while we say this, we're still buying a hammer at the Super Wal-Mart, not at Dual Supply on King Street. Dual Supply is a terrific hardware store. If they don't have it, you don't need it. But for a bag of nails or a screwdriver, you're going to the discount store to pick from one of five screwdrivers that's on sale.
The county school system has pretty well topped out the buying power it can get from efficiencies of scale. Merger can bring important savings and complementary offerings between the two districts.
As for service and responsiveness, I've had awfully good customer-service experiences with American Express, FedEx, Land's End, L.L. Bean and Southwest Airlines, to name a few mega-huge companies. Excellent service is a function of institutional culture, not the number of employees.
Reason #2: We don't want higher taxes. This argument comes from the same crowd that opposed the last school bond referendum. If it were up to the county district's votes, we would never have passed the bond that helped build Cedar Ridge High School. That's an embarrassment.
The reality is likely to be, however, that avoiding merger is the much more expensive option. Money alone is not a reason to merge, but it's a compelling aspect that cannot be ignored.
And finally, the No. 1 reason to avoid merger, voiced over and over again, is effectively the reason listed in dozens of the comments from the public hearings thus far: "Because we said so."
Many opponents have simply presented a "we don't want this and we'll vote you out" argument to the commissioners as their reason for opposing merger.
Just as when my parents "said so" as a means of ending an argument, this isn't an argument, it's as attempt to assert power as a last resort. It's proof of frustration, not commitment to equal opportunity, which is what we should be seeking in the longer term.

School improvement demands vision
Wednesday, November 19, 2003 Now that the county commissioners have passed through the preliminaries of considering merger, the panel has put several specific planning and analytical options on the table to consider in its effort to move forward. Excellent work.
It has become clear throughout this autumn season that an unspoken ABM (Anything But Merger) treaty exists between Orange County's two current districts creating one of the more bizarre political alliances in our community's history.
The fringes of the political spectrum, from don't-tax-me-for-anything to let's-put-a-tax-on-anything have somehow held hands (and perhaps their noses) to make the ABM alliance a reality. It is obstructionism as an art form -- you have to give them credit for their determination.
But now the commissioners must do the important work of moving forward in a constructive manner. As much as opponents of merger would like to rush or obfuscate that part of this process, it appears the board will not be deterred from its task.
Many may wonder at this point what that task really is. Commissioner Carey put the question of merger on the table, but that was predominantly because the prospect of merger has served for so many years as a kind of shorthand for a means through which the county could accomplish certain objectives -- potentially solving the vexing problems of funding inequities and lack of substantive cooperation, for example.
Stepping back, then, the commissioners would be wise to set aside the question of how to optimize the school system (to merge or not) and paint with a broad brush exactly what the outcome looks like. We cannot transition to a great school system if we are driven by an ABM approach.
We need a deliberate, specific process to develop our vision for what the next generation of our public schools should look like. We need to envision the ideal Orange County public school system of the year 2020 and work backward from that outcome.
This will allow us, as a community, to look at the schools beyond the immediate interests of our individual children. It will free us from the petty fiefdoms of currently employed bureaucrats (from either district) and will free the political leaders from concerning themselves with their electoral considerations.
Such comprehensive planning is commonly done in business and government. I assume that Orange County has conducted visioning processes like this for land use and long-term environmental-impacting decisions it must make. The university's master planning certainly goes many years into the future and seeks to examine its impact well beyond the individual fates of those involved in the process.
When I covered the town of Carr-boro for this newspaper, I covered the town's Vision 2020 planning process, which was a continuation of its Vision 2000 process, begun in the 1980s.
The most amazing thing wasn't just the large numbers of citizens who came out on a March Madness Saturday and spent the entire day indoors engaging in this process. It was the review of how the original report came to be a road map for them. The Vision 2000 document contained scores of forward-thinking specific goals (like bike paths in road planning) that over the years had translated into a philosophy that guided elected leaders in their decision-making.
In short, while elected officials may have disagreed from time to time about which specific path to take, they were found to have generally agreed overall which direction they were taking the town in and where they wanted to be eventually.
With the Vision 2020 plan, they revisited their original goals, adjusted them and updated their toolbox for getting there, allowing for new technologies and more innovative specifics to enter the adjusted plan.
To develop a great school system, we should be looking at what characteristics we would find in a great school system (excellent teaching, involved parents, responsiveness to individual needs, flexibility, maximized purchasing power, strong accountability and so on) and we need to work backward from the year 2020 to see what best practices will make that happen and how facilities and human resources need to adjust to fit that vision -- not vice-versa.
We should do this without regard to political complications. We should grant our planners a magic wand and tell them that excuses don't exist, only solutions and imaginative, productive pathways to them.
It is nearly certain that the actual changes from such a process would not become reality for at least six to ten years and would not be fully implemented for 15 to 20 years.
And when you think about it, it is almost unconscionable that so little attention is paid to the long view of how we educate the next generation of citizens, workers, parents and leaders.
But just as we invest our time and energy in planning the best use for our land and natural resources, we should develop a clear vision of what we want in our ideal school district, fulfilling our obligation to the next generation by delivering them to a better future.

UNC’s real estate deal a bad idea
Wednesday, November 26, 2003
If you thought the stench in your neighborhood came from leaving your old boots out in the rain, fear not. It's the stink of a real estate deal struck in secret and explained with baloney, smoke and mirrors.
And the interests and money of taxpayers are all over this disaster. It's a wonder we can even clear our throats without coughing up phlegm.
UNC is finishing a deal with incoming Town Councilman Cam Hill that will enrich Hill by $100,000 and provide him a domestic upgrade. Hill's Cameron Avenue home -- valued at just over $140,000 by the Orange County tax office -- is to be traded for the university's property at 412 E. Rosemary St.
The Rosemary Street property isn't on the county's tax listing, but the values of nearby homes would seem to conservatively place it in the $300,000 range.
According to county records, Hill still owes $1,903.03 in taxes and interest on his 2002 property tax bill. Here we go again. Why is it so hard to elect people who pay their bills?
As for Hill's blaming the media for not asking the right questions, he's right. He should have been grilled about this during the campaign. So consider this a direct question, Mr. Hill: Why haven't you paid your taxes on time and in full?
It so happens I've been in the Rosemary Street property several times this year. My son stayed in professor elin slavick's home for a month this summer, house- and dog-sitting while the professor, her husband and child were away.
It's a lovely, well-kept house -- an enviable property in a highly desirable, friendly and very walkable neighborhood. That said, the university is completely within its rights to not sell the property to the professors. UNC owns all the homes it does in the area so it can rent them to faculty, not so it can churn real estate for profit.
Selling the home to the professors, then, would not have solved any larger problem for UNC, so the use of the property as a bargaining chip within another deal is a defensible action.
But there is no "benefit of the doubt" that can explain or excuse how UNC and or its agents treated slavick and her husband in securing their clandestine deal with Hill. For her to walk in and find Hill, his family and a real estate agent sizing up the place must have been a real kick in the stomach.
Even so, simple decency and consideration could have largely alleviated a misunderstanding. A simple oh-my-goodness-we're-so-sorry-to-have-upset-you (accompanied by a speedy exit) would have done nicely, but slavick reports that Hill was not only insensitive, but also rubbed salt in the wound by inviting his children to go upstairs to look around.
Can you imagine walking in on such an unexpected intrusion and having the offending party retreat to your bedroom while you collect yourself? At a bare minimum, Hill and the university each owe slavick and her husband, professor David Richardson, a formal apology. Hill's part of it should be on bended knee.
As for the public accountability aspect, there's much more to be done. From the facts at hand, the Rosemary Street property appears to be worth at least twice the Cameron Avenue property. Hill has claimed his home would be worth more than $400,000, if only he had completed some improvements.
My home would be worth half a million if only I'd added a third floor, installed a built-in swimming pool in the back yard and had the entire property landscaped by Tom Fazio, but doggone it, I just haven't gotten to it yet.
Since Hill bases his claim on an appraised value that seems totally unsupported by the property's tax value, he should produce the appraisal or admit he lied about it to strike a deal for his own enrichment.
Until and unless the Orange County tax office and/or 10 real estate agents (preferably from out of town) line up to say Hill's house on Cameron Avenue is worth $450,000, this deal should be stopped cold by the university, the taxpayers and the Town Council itself.
Hill's first comments were that this transaction would be a "straight swap," which most of us would interpret as indicating that no money would change hands. This was a blatant deception in and of itself.
Even if Hill's house really is worth a bundle, we will be left with the prospect of the apologies due to two professors and the prospect of a sitting member of the city council who doesn't have the common sense that God gave a turnip. Hill says he just didn't think any of these particulars concern the taxpayers or voters, so that's why he didn't mention them during his neighborhood-preservation-based campaign for that seat.
If that's his story, he'd have the first part right -- he just didn't think.

Hill should pay taxes, explain delay
Wednesday, December 03, 2003 At a minimum, the deal that Cam Hill has struck with UNC will accomplish what thus far has eluded the Orange County government -- it will force Hill to settle up his tax bill.
According to county records, Hill still owes $1,803.03 in 2002 taxes on his Cameron Avenue home.
This is no criticism of the county tax office, mind you. Orange County has among the best track records in North Carolina for collecting taxes. I'd wager it's probably one of the most under-appreciated functions of the government, but I'd love to help end that tendency.
I appreciate the tax office and its staff. They're polite. They're helpful and they want to make it possible for everyone who owes back taxes to work out a plan -- one they can really deliver on -- to get their bills paid.
But when it comes to elected officials, most of us have a common perspective. If you're going to sit on a panel that spends the community's money, you should chip in your part like the rest of us do and you should do so on time, just like we do.
And Hill has failed to do this ... for several years. He did pay his 2001 taxes on the Cameron Avenue house. He finished paying those on June 6 of this year -- a year and a half after they were due.
He paid his 2000 taxes on one of his vehicles -- just over $100 -- in July of 2002, a year and three months after they were due. He paid the 2002 taxes on another vehicle on July 14 of this year (around the time he filed for office), eight months after they were due.
Are you sensing a pattern here?
Should Hill need to summon the police or an ambulance, they cannot take the same lax approach to meeting their obligations. Thanks to the rest of us who pay on time, their vehicles will have gas and current inspection stickers, and their salaries will be paid on time so they can get to work rescuing a slacker.
Last week I asked Hill on these pages to explain why he's not paid his taxes. I haven't heard from him. Maybe he'll respond in a year and a half.
Someone who can't get $100 in taxes (due on a car) paid on time is either in terrible financial trouble or is lacking in the competence needed to responsibly serve on the Town Council. Whatever the case, it's certainly time for Hill to take to the microphones and both explain himself and disclose to the taxpayers his plan for correction.
If his constituents don't care to pursue the matter, that's a telling insight. There's been a fair amount of noisy wind coming from the southern portion of the county lately. The air has been filled with claims of self-taxation representing commitment to excellence in education, for example.
Credibility on such a claim stretches awfully thin if it's only about sending out the bills and not caring if elected officials (or anyone else, I reckon) actually pay them. I seem to recall there was plenty of outrage (not just from me) that outgoing county school board member David Kolbinsky hadn't paid his taxes last year.
Even though Kolbinsky was a couple of months away from leaving office, I urged that he resign or be removed as a matter of principle. He didn't quit and, in fact, took the opportunity to put one or two spending initiatives on the table before he left the board.
Kolbinsky never lacked for nerve.
Hill's delinquency is not merely a problem for his constituents. His taxes go to both the city and the county, so the health, animal control and social services departments are waiting for his money.
At a minimum, we can hope that Hill will have the humility to not participate in spending any tax dollars until he's paid his share. That's a near-impossibility, though. Virtually every action he will take as a member of the Town Council will be paid for by the taxpayers. From attending a meeting in a building with lights and running water to making copies to asking questions of paid staff members, Hill will be along for a ride he hasn't paid for ... yet.
And unlike the Kolbinsky matter, this ride is just about to begin. The irony of seating a council member whose taxes are long overdue and persistently delinquent should add some of that much-needed carnival atmosphere to the excitement of Hill's swearing-in ceremony. I can hardly wait.

City school board has enough to do
Wednesday, December 10, 2003
The other night, I watched most of the first meeting of the new Chapel Hill-Carrboro school board. During the session, the new board elected its leadership and agreed to committee assignments.
If you're a parent, or even go so far as to describe yourself as an activist, you must be impressed by the task ahead of each school board member. Each sitting member of the board is expected to sit on about six committees. Just thinking about the sheer volume of work that can produce is daunting.
It may seem redundant to some that many committees have two school board members, but it's not. With all that activity, one board member or the other is bound to miss a meeting here and there. By partnering, little is missed -- kind of like study buddies.
Still, it's a big commitment that these people make for what is really virtually no pay and plenty of criticism.
So you'd think that the board would try to stay focused on its rather monumental task, one that takes so many committees and so many nights away from families.
But, no, the city school board has recently made clear that it has even more to bite off and a belief that it can chew it all.
The board showed no sign of regret or humility after telling the county schools (via resolution) that they should begin closing the funding gap between city and county with a special district tax.
In doing so, the city board fired its most essential salvo against merger -- the county can't even get a second board member to put a tax discussion on the table to talk about it, but the city board is unanimous that the county district should have its own special district tax.
The fact that this simply cannot level the funding between the two districts just isn't relevant. The major goal is to block merger and maintain the status quo.
Not feeling deterred, the city board apparently decided that it's now time to give direction to the Board of County Commissioners. This adventure in hubris was launched by telling the commissioners that they were outside of their jurisdiction in considering several specific programmatic aspects of merger's impact. The BOCC's job is to fund the schools, they said, not to get into programming decisions. How dare they question how the money is spent?
I sure hope that board members' memories are vivid as they walk into next summer's budget hearings. When they arrive, they will have a laundry list of terribly important programs that must be funded by the commissioners. I hope the BOCC gives the school board a long, cold, blank stare in return, followed by a blistering review of the statute that says the commissioners should not dabble in curriculum.
Then the commissions should rightly take a trip down memory lane and tell the school leaders that they almost fell for it again last winter -- the ruse of cooperation and planning of joint but undisclosed (see "how dare you ask") programming between the two districts. Along with promises that maybe someday the schools will merge, but it will happen at the hands of others, just like when it was bumped 17 years ago, it almost worked all over again.
And won't we all be better off if all this happens? Aw, heck, sure we will. Our kids will learn the keen value of hard-fought political victories and the wisdom of standing up for your legal authority as an elected official. They'll learn about leadership and sacrifice.
It's funny, isn't it? The UNC Board of Governors wants to increase the number of out-of-state students the university accepts and seeks to do this to keep the university academically rigorous.
That is, if North Carolinians go to college and encounter mostly other North Carolinians in the classroom, their view of the world will be more myopic, their educational experience will be diminished. This isn't a theory; it's a fact.
Why then is it so hard to wrap our collective brains around the idea that this would apply within the county in which that world-class university sits? Why wouldn't it be manifestly obvious that the student population of both the city and county districts will benefit from greater diversity?
Why wouldn't that be among the top priorities of the city school board? After all, they profess to be the best district in the state and every year at the Pauli Murray awards, their winning student-essayists give stirring presentations about the value and necessity of diversity of cultures, backgrounds and populations in the educational environment.
Are the kids wrong or are they just saying what they need to in order to win?

All I want for Christmas is . . .
Wednesday, December 17, 2003
There's just over a week remaining till the big day so I'm working on my Christmas wish list. My wishes are all about how people communicate ... or don't. Here's my latest draft.
Peace on Earth, good will toward people.
Aside from the grammatical correction that many would consider to be political correctness, I really mean this most sincerely. More than that, I mean it on exchanges large and small.
When did people stop saying "excuse me" when they walk between you and the books you're scoping out on the shelf? Why doesn't holding a door for someone mean an automatic smile with a twinkling eye?
The return of "You're welcome."
My husband noted recently that the nicety of saying "you're welcome" is slipping away from us and being replaced with "no problem." Nearly always as we ask for extra napkins or more iced tea, as the wait person arrives with it, we express our gratitude and are assured that it's "no problem."
It just seems like a sort of "non-assurance" doesn't it? I'm sure its origin is the somehow more genteel sounding "it's no trouble at all," but this has a sort of staccato feeling to it that erases the initial gesture of stopping to say thanks. I write e-mails to my son now and then thanking him for some work-related thing he's done. Sometimes I get an e-mail back that says simply, "NP."
Leave a message.
At the very least leave a message one time, even though you hate answering machines. Give me a chance anyway. It drives me nutty when someone calls and just as I'm diving over the dining room table and falling off the last of the chairs on the other side, the answering machine picks up and the caller hangs up. This is met with a colorful display of vocabulary that would impress both a sailor and a peacock, followed by more of same when the numbskull calls later, insisting that he's been trying to reach me, then scolds me for never being home.
Listen to the answering machine's announcement before making a fool of yourself and have enough humility to consider that you may have dialed the wrong number.
My business line, for example, says something like "You've reached the phone and fax line for [my company]. You can send a fax at any time or leave a message and we'll call you back." Now I'll admit that I did not employ my most sexy vixen voice in recording this message, but it's pretty clearly a woman's voice and the name of my company is stated just as it is in the yellow pages.
The other day, I got two calls while I was on another line. The first one made it through my machine's message, then the caller hung up. The second call (from the same number) produced this message: "Hello, Frank, this is Bill. Call me on my cell at [number] and let me know when I can come in today to install that intercom system for you."
I hope the guy got his new, improved communication system installed OK. Nobody showed up here.
The other night, a woman called my cell phone once and hung up. Then she called again and my son answered, identifying himself and politely informing her that she had the wrong number. Then she called back and left a message on my voice mail, telling Rodney that he should call her back for that information she had for him. This, after waiting to hear my voice-mail message: "You've reached the Sprint voice mailbox for Jean Bolduc ... ." I think I need voice lessons.
Don't answer the phone when you're really not available -- especially when you have caller ID.
How many times have you had someone answer the phone sounding harried and nearly annoyed that you've called, cutting you off with "I really can't talk now. ... I'll have to call you back." Then why did you answer? You know it's me, you probably know why I'm calling. Are you just trying to prove to me that you're so busy you can't even take a break to go to the bathroom?
As a columnist, I get a special breed of "thank you" e-mails. The best ones are those that start out with "I love your column, though I often disagree with you." I'm sincere when I say that I appreciate those critical e-mails the most, because they help me improve as a writer and they show me that people really care about the topic if they've chosen to invest their time in trying to straighten me out.
I always write back to thank them for taking the time to write. Sometimes this starts a longer dialogue wherein we each understand the other's perspective better and sometimes they're too busy to continue on the topic. This usually leaves me where I began as they acknowledge my thanks with "No problem."

Make it yourself -- that’s the spirit

Wednesday, December 24, 2003

'Twas the day before Christmas and all through the county, the shoppers all scrambled, collecting their bounty.
Are you done yet? I mean, is the frenzy almost over?
This year I feel I've actually improved significantly on my gift giving. I made many of the gifts I'm giving away. A famous cousin of mine once said that the only real gift is the gift of yourself. The less I buy and the more I make, the easier it is to see how true that is.
I compiled a CD of some music I like and I'm giving that to lots of people. The cost is not of the materials, which are minimal.
No, the real gift is in the time and effort to make the choices and to put it all together.
The label that appears on the CD has a picture on it that I took at the beach. It's the real thing -- a remembrance.
My cousin gave me a CD last year of pictures from her travels and it was a grand thing, very inspiring, really. This past year she went to Australia. I can hardly wait to see what she sends.
In 2001, my son's girlfriend designed a long-sleeve T-shirt that she screen-printed and gave to everyone. Part of the design is "Christmas 2001" on the front.
People ask me about that shirt all the time ... where did I get it and so forth. I tell them with great pride that it's not available in stores. This one is a very limited edition.
I think that times really have changed in the post-Sept. 11 world we live in. My goal (not always reached) is for each gift to remind its recipient that this gift was from 2003. I want to make a connection with the person and the year.
This year will be memorable for me because of some family events that will change each of us in ways small and large.
I had one child graduate from college and the other from driver's education. If we get in line now for his permit, maybe he can be driving by the time school gets out.
My mother was pretty darn sick this summer. A heart attack and a stroke knocked her back pretty hard, but she's still among us this Christmas. Some gifts need no wrapping, no tag.
A dear friend of ours (and our attorney) died suddenly the day after Father's Day. We attended his funeral, then left for vacation. A day after arriving at the beach, we learned of my mother's heart attack.
Some things could have gone better, yes. But I can scarcely complain about my inconvenience in the scheme of it all. No ... for me, it's more about vividly understanding how precious and fragile life is and how necessary it is to look up and around and really drink in the happy times when you're in the midst of them.
And the often frenetic pace of the last days of shopping are truly among the happier problems to have in this world.
Americans are long on blessings and short on appreciation at times. Lately, as I awaken on a Saturday morning and realize that I don't have to be anywhere that whole day, I wonder if it's even possible to be any luckier than that.
It's a kind of relaxation that no spa could deliver.
I'll look forward to the challenges that we all face in the upcoming year. A fascinating political landscape -- both local and national -- awaits us. By next Christmas, we should know who the next president will be ... unless we have a hanging chad redux. Please NO!
Closer to home (and of greater import, frankly) will be the movement forward in our consideration of merging the school districts and the communities in Orange County. Regardless of what happens with the schools, one of my Christmas wishes is that the various "interest groups" involved in the overall debate get a lot more involved in seeking to understand the kids' perspectives and interests.
A town hall meeting of, by and for Orange County students (and only students) would be a breath of fresh air in that debate. Maybe Santa can deliver that small miracle for us next year.
And I hope that the primary and the November races for county commissioner seats are constructive and civil. It's a lot to wish for, but what the heck -- it's Christmas.

The best and worst of 2003

Wednesday, December 31, 2003

As the year grinds to a close, let's pause and review some of its highlights and, of course, lowlights.
* Best way to wake up Orange County and make sure everyone's paying attention:
Moses Carey's school merger proposal hit the table during the commissioners' planning retreat in January. No behind-the-scenes consensus building, he just ran that one right up the flag pole to see who'd shoot at it. Turns out out the answer was ... just about everyone.
This brought extra ink orders for the local newspapers and sign makers -- good for the local economy. Red circles with lines through them were the special throughout the year, whether it was merger, war or a renewal of APS's contract with the county, somebody was not only against it, but organizing an army of support.
So many of us were hoping that the best comeback in recorded history would belong to the UNC men's basketball team after its stunningly poor beginning to the 2002-03 season. Instead it turned into the worst season ever for the Tar Heels -- very bad for the local economy.
* Best reality television show:
The Michael Peterson murder trial. If you could tear yourself away from the TV or your computer screen while that epic was going on, you're stronger than most of us. Like watching a slow-motion train wreck, it was fascinating to see Peterson's defense team explain away big things and little and, of course, never address the most glaring hole in his case. How could a professional writer and an innocent man who merely discovered his dying wife after a fall ever be kept from telling his own story?
* Best commentary during that trial:
It came from our very own Carl Fox, district attorney for Orange and Chatham counties. At one point in the trial, the prosecution had just finished with a police expert who outlined in detail how he determined that a spot of blood spatter on the inside of Peterson's shorts could only have gotten there by his standing over a blood source and hitting down on it.
With only brief questions from the defense, the witness was excused, the trial took a break. Fox commented at this point that this was an important witness for the prosecution and that the defense had done nothing to dispute his findings.
"As Ricky Ricardo would say, 'He's got some 'splainin' to do,' " Fox quipped.
Of course, Fox did have a slip of the lip just a few minutes later. In emphasizing how important the testimony was, he said he "didn't want to beat the point to death." Ouch. Was that shoe leather?
* And speaking of shoe leather between the tooth and gum, there's Cam Hill's 2003 Worst Excuse for Not Paying Your Taxes:
He's poor, says Hill, and shouldn't be criticized for that.
I'll admit that my upbringing was on the affluent side, so I'm confident that readers will straighten me out on this one if I'm just not up to speed on these terms. That said, where I come from (snooty suburban Connecticut) a guy who owns two houses strains credibility in calling himself "poor."
Cam Hill owns his own residence, which he says is mortgaged to the hilt, and also owns a second piece of real estate in downtown Chapel Hill just a couple of blocks from his new home on Rosemary Street.
The second property, apparently not yet developed, has a tax value of about $120,000. Hill owns it with a partner.
Beyond this, "poor" Mr. Hill pulled more than $2,000 out of thin air a few weeks ago after the taxes on his primary residence were revealed to be unpaid and overdue. Presumably, he will not only do this again in a week when his 2003 taxes become past due, but also come forth with his share of the $1,731.56 that also will be past due on his second property.
A person with real estate holdings whose tax value is around a quarter of a million dollars just isn't "poor." Call me a bigot, I just don't think that someone who can pull that kind of money out of the mattress is "poor" either. In my book, Hill wins the 2003 Houdini-with-a-checkbook award.
And I may seem like a dog with a bone here, but I think that we taxpayers are entitled to know how it is that Hill has plucked that money out of nowhere. When a public official suddenly has desperately needed cash without explanation, it seems, well, fishy.
Let's hope that he's really our own George Bailey and all his friends tossed cash into the basket to save his neck. If so, they should be happy to say so.

2002 Columns

2004-09-16T09:31:00.000-07:00

Another sage voice of reason falls silent
Originally published in:Chapel Hill Herald
Wednesday, June 26, 2002
Edition: Final
Page: 4
JEAN BOLDUC
Columnist
Dear Ann Landers,
I hope you can help me, but I think it unlikely. Today is a very sad one at my house as we have just learned of your passing.
Whether or not you realized it, you have had a voice in a lot of big decisions in my family and thousands more, I'm sure. Especially in family matters, when you've given advice to a guy in Idaho, it often summarized the point at my house, earning you the high honor of occupying the premiere viewable space in the entire house - taped to the refrigerator.
This is not because we've always agreed. Sometimes you took positions that I thought were utterly lame-brained, but these helped me see something very, very important - your humility and your delicious sense of humor.
As is true for anyone who writes so many opinions that are read far and wide, you had occasion to make a meal of crow and it almost seemed to delight you to admit your errors. I wish more of us could take that lesson to heart and embrace our mistakes for the valuable lessons that they can be.
Most likely, I suppose that you delighted in blowing a call sometimes because it brought you a mountain of mail, explaining your mistake to you, often in the same pithy way that you made so famous in your column. You were a woman of uncommon wit and fantastic efficiency in your writing. Surely your editor will cry himself to sleep nightly for a year over losing such a talent.
As a common theme in your columns, I have found a message of empowerment for me as a wife, a daughter, a daughter-in-law and as a mother. Commonly, you'd advise a young mother to tell her overbearing relatives to "butt out" when it comes to setting rules for kids and sticking with them. Ann, you always knew where the rubber met the road.
As is true of a more mature soul, you also had sense enough to know what was out of your league. Asking advice from any and every expert, you could always provide the last word to settle nearly any dispute, it seemed and you repeatedly encouraged people to seek counseling to resolve their problems and acquire the skills to live happy, healthy lives.
When I write my little musings for my local newspaper each week, I try to hold myself to a "Landers standard." After I write my column, I ask myself, "Who am I helping today?" If the answer is "myself," I hit the delete key and try again.
I went to a pretty good journalism school here in my town, but it was your column and that of my beloved Erma Bombeck that taught me most of what I know about having my own distinct writing voice. Whether through the truth found in humor or that found in the quiet of empty white space, each of you could reach right through the newsprint and embrace your readers.
When you wrote some years ago about the end of your 30-plus year marriage, you left some space at the end of your column. This, you wrote, was to mark the end of a great marriage that didn't make it to the finish line.
The column still stands out in my mind as one of your greatest. It didn't solve anything. It didn't explain fully what went wrong, but that's the honesty of it. In such things, we often don't know ever fully understand what went wrong, we just see that it has.
If we're courageous, we accept it and mourn. You shared this vulnerability on the pages of hundreds of newspapers. It's easy to be a good writer, they say, just open a vein and bleed onto the page.
That column really helped me understand and accept the end of my parents' marriage and appreciate that it did not mean the end of their relationship. Next week would have been their 50th anniversary had they remained married. They've been divorced longer now than they were together as a couple, but there's a much more important milestone.
They still care about each other. They're still friends. They agree on the important things and try to overlook petty differences. They work at getting along together. They have their four children and their seven grandchildren in common. It's good to keep a friend for 50 years. Not many of us can achieve that.
We nearly got there with your column, as it originated in 1955, but it was not meant to be.
I know America joins me in asking for one last piece of advice, however rhetorical. Dearest Ann Landers ... what will we do without you?

'President' Cheney: While Bush slept
Originally published in:Chapel Hill Herald
Wednesday, July 03, 2002
Edition: Final
Page: 4
JEAN BOLDUC Columnist
What did you do during Dick Cheney's presidency? I was going to watch the movie "Cast Away" but didn't have enough time. The movie is about three hours, the presidency was just two and a half.
I didn't have time to cook a turkey, either, which is a shame. Somewhere there would be an analogy about stuffing a turkey while ... well, nevermind.
When I heard that the president would transfer full executive authority to the vice president while having a routine colonoscopy at Camp David, I had to laugh.
Don't get me wrong, I know that the test is very unpleasant and can be painful, but the jokes during the procedure must have been worth the price of admission. At last, the transcripts can be released ...
DOCTOR: "Mr. President, there seems to be a senator in here. It looks like John McCain ... he's up there pretty far, sir."
BUSH: "Tell me about it. Can you do anything?"
DOCTOR: "I can pull him out sir, but he may be armed with pretzels, so brace yourself."
My lingering question in the whole episode was, if Bush had to hand the whole country over to Cheney while he was having this test done, why didn't Katie Couric hand over the reigns of the Today show while she was having the same test on live television? Did Matt Lauer have full executive authority to cut away, you should excuse the expression, if the camera revealed something America couldn't handle?
Katie was chatting, questioning and having a great old time while she was having her test, live from New York. Granted, she said she was feeling happier and perkier than normal, thanks to the blessings of medical management.
So happy and relaxed was Couric that she was chatting away with the doctor and had not realized that the test had begun - the result of good technique, I suppose.
So how is it that Couric's experience was viewable on live television as she narrated us through it while a big strong guy like George Bush has to invoke the 25th Amendment?
The part that bothers me in all of this is that a lot of the demystifying and education that Couric provided could have been undone by Bush's grandstanding. Handing over the nuclear codes "because we're at war" sent absolutely no message to our enemies, but told lots of Americans over the age of 50 that this test can be so debilitating, you should put your affairs in order before having it done.
This was a cheap excuse to remind Americans, in a backhanded way, that there's a war on and that our happy warrior chief is taking every precaution to make sure we're protected - even while there's a camera where nature never intended.
When I did some consulting work for a local HMO, we spent a fair amount of time trying to devise ways to give members the confidence and incentive to have life-saving routine screenings - like the colonoscopy - done each year.
No one would enjoy such an examination, but I will accompany my beloved (and over 50) husband to his first screening later this month. We are both delighted to be able to cross off our "worry" list this dreaded disease that took the life of our dear friend a few years ago. He didn't have the option to have this test and it likely would have saved his life.
Having such things done would have been a great opportunity for our president to show to his fellow 50-plus year old men that if he can make the time, they can make the time.E No fuss, no muss. Do it to take care of yourself and your family. That's what he could have told the country and the world.
Instead, we have the Saturday morning Cheney presidency and, I'll wager, a whole lot of men who think that this test must be awful if the keys to the Situation Room changed hands over it.
And that's a shame. Each year thousands die needlessly from colon cancer and other forms of the disease detected early by screenings that can be somewhat unpleasant, but are effective. The war on terror should not be used to promote fear of a routine and potentially life-saving test that can be performed in a doctor's office.
A big, wet, slurpy, genuine New York City raspberry to our president on this one.

Bad test results? Let's toss the test
Originally published in:Chapel Hill Herald
Wednesday, July 17, 2002
Edition: Final
Page: 4
JEAN BOLDUC Columnist
Last week, I was enjoying some vacation time and found myself reading the newspaper. They shouldn't sell newspapers at the beach - it's bad for the "forget the world" scenario that's so essential to the Zen of "being the beach broccoli."
Breezing past the troubling international headlines, I read a couple of stories about our state's schools. Should have stayed in the comics, perhaps, but I just got pulled into the riptide of these particular items and all my efforts to turn the page and bail were fruitless. See how you do ... it's not easy to turn away from this train wreck.
I saw that students in North Carolina did poorly on the writing test, so the State Board of Education responded by simply discarding the results. Don't you wish you could have done that with some of your tests in school?
This year, when the tests for all students were as poor as they have been for African-American students all along, it was decided that the test was the wrong thing.
Certainly the testing affects every student in our community, but it must make things doubly difficult for those who are already struggling in Chapel Hill to close an achievement gap that looks like the Grand Canyon at times.
The state board decided that the writing prompt was a poor one. The test asked fourth-graders to describe the ideal day at school. From this question, students are expected to write an essay with distinctive parts - a beginning, a middle and an end.
Now here comes the really funny part. In criticizing this year's test, some have said that the writing test is just inherently flawed. Why? It's subjective, say the critics.
So, to help students perform better on a writing test, we should perhaps make it multiple choice? That would be 1) idiotic, 2) ironic, or 3) both.
The fact that the test cannot be machine-scored does not make it subjective. The SAT is going to add a writing component also. This should allow students who respond to different types of testing scenarios to perform better on the test. Of course, it means that a human being will have to read it.
North Carolina's fourth-graders are evaluated mostly on their ability to construct an effective narrative that answers the prompt. Here's a good response:
"My perfect day at school would include my favorite subjects only, my favorite lunch and dessert in the cafeteria and recess all afternoon."
Follow this with three paragraphs, using each of those three ideas as topic sentences. Summarize with a fifth paragraph.
Be assured, this can be challenging for a fourth-grader. The point here is that teachers spend plenty of time preparing kids for testing using this format. The idea that "describe the perfect day at school" is a defective prompt that explains poor results is just scoring very high on my baloney meter. Bad weather is a more viable explanation.
Those who wring their hands in the name of building children's self-esteem are going to be crying over the devastating effects of these bad results, and that's a shame. Children get good self-esteem from the work and challenge that produces genuine accomplishment.
Parents can help in very meaningful ways. The Chapel Hill district's Web site has a wealth of information on it to help both kids and parents deal with all sorts of testing issues - everything from testing anxiety to building vocabulary. There's no substitute for sitting down with your child's classroom teacher early in the year and making sure you're working together to support your child.
When I was a fourth-grader, I wrote to my grandparents regularly. They were schoolteachers and many of my letters were returned in a sea of red ink. The day I got one through without a mistake was one that filled me with pride.
Both Orange County school districts have programs in one form or another to encourage children to read outside of school-assigned material, keep a personal journal and write to a pen pal. Parents who really want to see that achievement gap close should be working hard now - in the summer - to take advantage of any and all programs offered through the local recreation departments, libraries and camp programs.
What needs wringing are the necks of the State Board of Education and those in the so-called testing division at the Department of Public Instruction.
Last year, they couldn't compile the math results properly. Result? Toss the test.EThis year, for whatever reason, the writing test results seem askew. Result? Toss the test.
Must we wait for history and science to go down the chute before we look for a better tossing target? One "expert" suggested that students didn't know what to do with this year's added time for completing the test, so they perhaps just kept writing to fill the time.
How would the students possibly see this as "extra" time? They've never taken the test before. They were either uniformly ill-prepared or the DPI doesn't know what it's doing in test-norming and/or design. My money's on the latter.
"What will kill you with the public's confidence is mistakes. Mistakes are more likely when you have overworked staff or understaffed [testing] departments," said Jim Watts, vice president of the Southern Regional Education Board. His organization was involved in the state's audits of its testing procedures.
Watts is right about the mistakes ruining your credibility. He's right about overworked staff being more prone to them. Problem is, when kids make similar mistakes, they don't get to throw their hands in the air, blame the test and toss the results. They get to repeat a grade or go to summer school. Does DPI lose its summer vacation over this one?

Momma told me about days like this
Originally published in:Chapel Hill Herald
Wednesday, July 24, 2002
Edition: Final
Page: 4
JEAN BOLDUC Columnist
Indeed, my mother cautioned about believing the criticism one receives and to be equally cautious about any praise that might trickle in, too.
Last week, I had a lot to say about the ill-fated test results from North Carolina's writing test. Our state's fourth-graders were wrongly prompted, state officials said, so the test had to be thrown out.
In defense of state officials, I have to point out that writing test scores have steadily climbed over the last five years or so. A drop of a percentage point or two from year to year is not something that would be worthy of notice but a statewide plunge in the double digits meant that something was certainly wrong with the test itself.
Last week I poo-poo'd the notion that the prompt was really the problem.
More likely, I thought, was the evaluation process on the other end of the equation. Overworked staff at DPI had perhaps not read the test thoroughly, I thought, or perhaps they had problems norming the results. After all, they botched the results of the math tests last year.
I prattled on to say that fourth-graders needed only to write a story that met certain conditions and then went on to describe what I thought would be a sample of a good response.
My sample response was flat out wrong, however, and an Orange County fifth-grade teacher was nice enough (and thankfully gentle) to take the time to straighten me out.
"You, too, a journalist and writer, would have failed the 4th Grade writing test," wrote Elizabeth Quick, a teacher at Grady Brown Elementary School.
"To answer as you did, listing several things that would describe an ideal school day, following with three paragraphs explaining the ideals, and summarizing with the fifth paragraph is NOT an example of narrative writing - which is what students in 4th grade are expected to write to successfully pass the test.
"The example you provided in your column is clarification, or explanatory writing, which is a writing form taught in 5th grade, and tested in middle school. In clarification writing, students are to respond to a prompt by listing several ways or reasons, explaining each reason in the subsequent paragraphs, and concluding with a fifth paragraph summarizing their total response."
Narrative writing, said Quick, is simply writing a story - with a beginning, middle and end. It can be made up or drawn on from personal experience, but it must be a story and not an explanation.
Although Quick was careful to warn me that she is "not an expert" in standardized testing, her explanation was very helpful in leading me to understand that the real failure was, in fact, in the prompt itself.
To remind, the prompt for this year's test was to ask students to describe an ideal or perfect day at school. That seems easy enough, but the use of a term like "perfect" or "ideal" compels the test-taker to make his or her argument for why the day described meets that criterion.
Instead, students should have written a once-upon-a-time sort of story, describing a hypothetical event as though it had actually happened. That's a pretty tough assignment for a young writer without some further instruction to either describe a day that's already happened or take the reader into a make-believe world.
With Quick's explanation, it all seems clear - bad prompt. The kids at Grady Brown are sure in good hands, no matter what the state's test says. Thanks to my snoopy nature, I learned that Quick's background is in university administration and continuing education. Her switch to teaching elementary school came only recently after she earned another graduate degree and her teaching certificate.
During our subsequent correspondence, we found agreement that the state should make minor modifications in the prompts that are known to work. This would also assure parents that test results are as close to an "apples to apples" comparison from year to year.
And speaking of apples, a shiny red one to Ms. Quick - a friendly, helpful and enlightening person who helped one opinion writer out of the darkness this week.

Kolbinsky, Bateman should resign
Originally published in:Chapel Hill Herald
Wednesday, July 31, 2002
Edition: Final
Page: 4
JEAN BOLDUC Columnist
The Chapel Hill Herald recently incorrectly reported the salary of Orange County Schools Superintendent Randy Bridges. As soon as the newspaper learned of this error, it corrected it prominently in a story.
Journalists are in the fact reporting business. It can be a difficult one because of the sometimes subtle nature of our language. Heck, some high achievers don't even know the definition of "is."
In contrast, the deliberate deception and media manipulation perpetrated by school board members David Kolbinsky and Bob Bateman cannot be fixed so easily. For the sake of the board's integrity, the two should resign their seats and allow appointed members from the community to participate in selecting Bridges' replacement.
On Saturday, July 20, the school board met in closed session to discuss the possibility of making a counteroffer to Bridges, who had received a job offer from the Rock Hill, S.C., school district.
Six of the board's seven members attended. Board Chairwoman Dana Thompson made arrangements to talk with Bateman via telephone to receive his opinions on the discussion. He was vacationing in South Carolina.
It's important to note here that Thompson wasn't required to do this, but did so in an effort to present Bridges with a unanimous counteroffer - an important gesture of confidence.
Thompson opened the meeting by passing out a document reviewing Bridges' current compensation package with Orange County. In rounded numbers, his state salary base is $81,000, local supplement is $34,000, non-taxable travel allowance is $7,500 and a 6 percent annuity.
After the document was passed around, the board members discussed their options at trying to close the gap between Bridges' current package and the $135,000 package offered by Rock Hill.
As five members talked through the issues, David Kolbinsky sat silently reading the newspaper.
After reaching agreement that the board wanted to make a counteroffer, Thompson phoned Bateman. She reviewed all the particulars of Bridges' current compensation and the Rock Hill offer.
Though Bateman was unwilling to fully match the Rock Hill offer, he said more than once that he wanted to keep Bridges in Orange County. Upon her return, Thompson conveyed Bateman's comments and the board began discussing specific numbers to use in a counteroffer. They settled on a specific amount - one that Kolbinsky suggested.
Before closing the session, at the request of board member Susan Halkiotis, Thompson reviewed the counteroffer one last time, polling each member for agreement. Among the six present, the agreement was unanimous.
Thompson admonished the board to keep this information absolutely confidential until the regularly scheduled board meeting on the following Tuesday, July 23. All agreed.
Bateman and Kolbinsky then turned right around and talked to a Chapel Hill Herald reporter about negotiations to keep Bridges.
They failed to correct the misreported compensation of $90,000, effectively confirming it. Based on a falsity, they built an argument of outrage and contempt for any attempt to match Rock Hill's offer.
Kolbinsky called the process "tawdry." Bateman said that only Enron executives would get a 50 percent raise and we've all seen what happened to them.
Interesting analogy.
Knowing that they had both agreed to a counteroffer and knowing that the gap between Bridges' current compensation and Rock Hill's was less than $15,000 (not $45,000) the two crowed like Heckle and Jeckle (the two inseparable cartoon magpies from CBS Cartoon Theater) about how such a small district could not possibly afford such a lavish salary increase.
As board members, it was their responsibility to clarify the facts of Bridges' compensation package and then clam up about what might or might not happen next.
The district is now faced with the responsibility of conducting a selection process to choose a replacement for Bridges, who tendered his resignation during last week's board meeting.
And here's where the rubber meets the road. Kolbinsky and Bateman have committed a serious ethical breech on two fronts. First, they've flagrantly violated the confidence and respect that their colleagues and employees need and deserve to properly conduct themselves on confidential matters.
More importantly, they have, through the press, deceived the public in an effort to remove the superintendent by conveying "outrage" at a mythically gigantic salary increase.
The school board may make decisions that I don't agree with, but I expect them to be forthright about simple issues of fact when they are communicating with those who elected them. Granted, they weren't under oath, but they did swear an oath when they took office - one that they have egregiously violated.
We, the community, are the stockholders here. It's our responsibility to hold our elected officials accountable and this task is not limited to action at the ballot box.
Kolbinsky and Bateman will both be off this board during most of the tenure of the new superintendent, but the integrity of the board demands that this vivid ethical breech be dealt with severely. Along with openly, formally requesting their resignations, the board should vote on a resolution that puts in the record a formal reprimand for each of them.
It is only one step toward attempting to restore the board's integrity. More may be necessary.
Finally, I hope that any resolution that is passed by the board includes, for the record, an apology to Randy Bridges, who deserved none of this and conducted himself throughout with the dignity and respect that has so eluded two of his bosses.

Be smart: Follow nurse's orders
Originally published in:Chapel Hill Herald
Wednesday, August 07, 2002
Edition: Final
Page: 4
Jean Bolduc Columnist
Waiting my turn in the hair chop shop, I picked up a magazine and started reading about the many tips that nurses have for keeping yourself healthy. The magazine touted these as "things your doctor won't tell you," but that turned out to be hype.
The story should have started out with "get a tube of common sense cream and apply it liberally" because much of what was included didn't require much more than everyday knowledge. Still, there were some interesting strategies for enlisting the insights that nurses have, and I thought some of them were pretty darned clever.
Some examples - if you're blessed to have friends who are nurses ask them what doctor they go to for routine, primary care. If you're not lucky enough to have an R.N. as a next-door neighbor, ask the nurse at your child's school or one who goes to your church.
Nurses, with their specialized knowledge and "insider information," are pretty savvy consumers of healthcare services. It's like asking your mechanic which kind of car his wife drives.
Recently, I participated in the digital mammography study at UNC's new Women's Hospital. This entitled me to a regular mammogram and a digital one. This meant two squishes for me, but also gave me the chance to participate in some research that may save someone from the ravages of advanced breast cancer. What's one more squeeze compared to that?
While there, I asked the nurses all sorts of questions - some medical, some not. It's the nature of writers, I suppose - we ask too many questions, we interview everyone. I sometimes think it's not a skill, it's a way of life.
Anyway, I asked the nurses at UNC if they were still getting their own mammograms despite the controversy generated by a recent re-examination of data that evaluates the test's effect on mortality rates. The two or three I asked all said yes, emphatically. My doctor said she still recommends them, too.
And this is where the common sense thing comes in. I'll take my little quiz-your-friends research over that headline every time.
It seems to me that each time I'm at UNC Hospitals, I get a chance to sign an extra document and have something or other that I'm doing be used again for the benefit of educating a new doctor. That's a great thing and I'm almost always happy to do it, but the story I read suggested that you might want to avoid any major surgery in the month of July.
That's when all the new interns are setting up their schedules and there can be an added layer of confusion, the story said. Admittedly, I haven't scheduled any major surgery in July, but I still think that surviving heart surgery should depend on a little more than having good scheduling software.
Among the best suggestions I read were things I already do and my doctor embraces. I ask questions. I write them down in advance so I won't forget them. UNC Family Practice now makes it possible for me to e-mail my doctor - something I try to do only sparingly, but I use that to ask more questions or to clarify things that came up during my visit. I don't e-mail to say, "I can't raise my left arm any higher than this ..."
My own doctor treats me like the captain of my healthcare team. She'll ask me what I think "we" should do about this or that, and then we discuss options. This is a style that suits me because I do read a lot on medical issues that affect me and I do ask a lot of questions.
I think it suits her because she lives in Carrboro, the most co-op oriented town on the planet Earth, and what she really does is take a cooperative approach. Maybe it's just her style, too.
Whatever the reason, style and bedside manner are very important. Some people want to chat with and have a rapport with their doctors. Some want to cut right to the chase - strictly business. Whatever style you like, you should be sure you're a good fit with your doctor and should not hesitate to keep shopping and interviewing prospective doctors until you find the right fit.
This is fairly easy to say in our community with a wealth of medical practitioners around. It's an embarrassment of riches, you might say. For those in more rural settings who have only a few primary care physicians around it can be a challenge if you don't like what's on the menu.
We're so unlikely to complain to our doctors about anything to do with the services we get from them. With other doctors (not UNC Family Practice) I've often thought of sending a bill to the office manager for making me wait so long - especially if I'm in one of those darling paper outfits and the office is 41 degrees.
I used to think they only came in to see me because the sound of my teeth chattering was distracting everyone in the hallway. At UNC, they can have a delay here and there, but they'll come and let me know. I like that.
And when the nurse comes in, I ask her where she's from, how she got interested in nursing and who her family doctor is ...

Kolbinsky should pony up or resign
Originally published in:Chapel Hill Herald
Wednesday, August 14, 2002
Edition: Final
Page: 4
Jean Bolduc Columnist
Two weeks ago I said that Orange County school board members David Kolbinsky and Bob Bateman should resign after their effort to spin a controversy out of a misreported salary level of the parting superintendent.
After that column Kolbinsky sent me an e-mail. "I think it took many of us by surprise that he was compensated so well," he said.
In response, I asked him if he was saying that he didn't know how much money the superintendent made. I received no reply. And this is where Kolbinsky has been so clever in his political life - his Clinton-esque parsing and obfuscation.
His statement not only suggests that he didn't know, but that "others" didn't as well, yet it names no one and offers the escape valve of "I think." He's entitled to his opinion.
So much for personal accountability.
As much as they love to wave the flag of frugality in the name of saving taxpayers' dollars, Bateman and Kolbinsky are more concerned with the perks of their office. This spring, Bateman attended the national school board association meeting in New Orleans. We, the taxpayers, paid about a thousand dollars for this, despite the fact that Bateman was expected at the time to have only days left in his term as a school board member.
There's no existing school board policy to stop departing members from attending this annual conference, just the common sense notion that in a year of conspicuous budget crisis, the money would have been better spent on classroom supplies.
Kolbinsky and his wife were scheduled to go as well, but his construction accident prevented him from attending. He has yet to repay the Orange County Schools for his wife's nonrefundable plane ticket. It's silly to think that she would attend without him, but he's due to pay for her ticket regardless.
Don't hold your breath for the money, dear taxpayer. The line forms at the left to receive what's due you from Kolbinsky. Specifically, it forms at 200 S. Cameron St. in Hillsborough - the Orange County tax office.
Kolbinsky made a small payment on his past due taxes last week. He paid $200 toward the balance of his 1999 property tax on his home. He still owes the balance of taxes for that year and all of his taxes for 2000 and 2001. There are currently three tax liens on the property.
Taxes for this year are due next month, but are not past due until Jan. 5. That will be another $1,152 due from Kolbinsky on his real estate.
And then there are his cars - three of them - all with unpaid taxes and two of them with their registrations blocked by the tax office. This should mean that Kolbinsky cannot renew his registration.
All totaled, Kolbinsky owes over $3,400 in back taxes, going back to 1999. In checking the records of all sitting board members, I found that Deloris Simpson also owes over $700 in taxes and interest, due last year. Simpson should get out her checkbook and get right with the tax office, too. The rest of the board has a clean slate.
Nonpayment of taxes is one of the few reasons that a school board member can be removed from office. It falls under what the state calls "disreputable conduct."
The procedure for removal begins with a letter of complaint to the state board of education. If a preliminary review determines that there may be a basis for removal, a letter is sent from the state school board to the chair of the local board, notifying him or her that a complaint has been filed and must be investigated. The local school board conducts this investigation and then there's a hearing at which the accused member can explain himself. The colleagues of the accused then act as judge and jury and vote on removal.
Obviously, an investigation wouldn't take very long. These are all public records and are easily verified. An "investigation" of the nonpayment of taxes should take about five minutes.
No, the question here will be whether it's worthwhile to take the trouble to remove a guy who's already headed for the back door.
The answer is a resounding yes. If our various policies and standards somehow don't apply to people who have only a few months in office, then surely departing seniors will feel free to vandalize the two high schools every spring and get a pass for paying for the damages.
If Kolbinsky remains, he will participate in a search for the district's new leader. He has no legitimate seat at that table.
I don't expect any of the board members to be flawless. We all experience failures. Many of us go through times of unemployment and financial hardship. Our character and personal integrity provide most of us with the compass to guide us through such turbulence.
Kolbinsky's character should demand that he at least spare the taxpayers the additional distraction and expense of investigating what he knows to be a fact. He should at least have the decency to resign immediately and allow the remaining board members to appoint a replacement to serve through December.
A similar problem drove Chapel Hill Town Council member Joe Herzenberg from office. Realizing a recall effort was gaining momentum, Herzenberg resigned.
After all, if everyone acted as Kolbinsky has, there'd be no money to pay for Bateman's trip to New Orleans.

For the record - what is and isn't public
Originally published in:Chapel Hill Herald
Wednesday, August 21, 2002
Edition: Final
Page: 4
Jean Bolduc Columnist
Last week Orange County school board member Bob Bateman wrote a letter to the editor decrying my reporting of the facts of a closed school board meeting.
Bateman has never disputed that what I reported was accurate, just that it came from a session that was properly held in secret and that he felt those proceedings were to always remain unknown to the public.
With all due respect to the former chairman of the school board, he either does know better or he darn well should. Under North Carolina public meeting law, school boards can meet in secret for only certain limited reasons.
They can meet with their attorney to discuss pending legal matters like negotiations over the purchase of property or developments in a lawsuit. They can meet to discuss personnel matters, like hiring, firing or retaining an employee. Once the matter is resolved, the board members may discuss what happened and the meeting's minutes are public records.
If the meeting involves student records, the proceedings must be kept confidential so as to protect the student's ongoing right to privacy.
Bateman surely knows all of this, but would like very much to redirect the debate over his conduct in misleading the public about the superintendent's salary. Bateman and board member David Kolbinsky would like for this debate to appear to swirl around their being persecuted for their beliefs.
In his response to the revelation that he had not paid his Orange County property taxes since the previous millennium, Kolbinsky said that he was under personal attack and that my reporting his debt was essentially a smear campaign, designed to embarrass him.
It's the politics of personal destruction, Kolbinsky said. He went on to blame his unfortunate accident while on the job for his negligence in paying his due to the county. His accident was in March of this year. I cannot fathom how that explains his nonpayment of county taxes back to 1999.
Last week, he made a $2,000 payment toward his debt to the county, which exceeded $3,400. It's good to hear he's paid some of it, but nearly a third of the debt remains and Kolbinsky is unapologetic about owing any of it. "I'm not an accountant by nature," Kolbinsky said.
Since my column last week, Kolbinsky has written to me, complaining about my reporting on matters that he deems strictly personal. "Your attempts at the character assassination of Bob and myself, make you look small, embittered, hysterical, mean-spirited and lacking a sense of propriety," writes Kolbinsky. "Jean, this is really not your fight."
The payment of one's taxes is decidedly not a personal matter. I wasn't checking on his phone bill or his credit rating. I wasn't writing about Kolbinsky's family or his lifestyle choices. I didn't quiz his neighbors about his comings and goings.
Instead, I was checking to see (as any citizen has the right to do) whether one of the people who decides how to spend millions in local tax dollars was paying his own share.
I checked Kolbinsky's tax records via the Internet. To make sure I had my facts right, I called the tax office, identifying myself as a reporter. I specifically asked that I not be given any information that was not on the public record. As a result, some of my questions went unanswered.
Board member Delores Simpson also owes taxes due last year. In trying to defend his own behavior, Kolbinsky has pointed in Simpson's direction, claiming that if he must resign, she should also.
Indeed, if Simpson insists that her nonpayment is her own business and none of the taxpayers' concern, then I'll agree with Kolbinsky - she should resign, too. To have one elected official openly contemptuous of his civil responsibilities is shameful. To have two would be a disaster.
According the Harry Wilson, the staff attorney for the State Board of Education, the last 20 years have brought several instances where complaints about local school board members have reached the state board of education. The only case that has produced a finding by the state board of "immoral or disreputable conduct" (the standard for removal of a board member) was one in which a school board member who was an insurance agent used his position on the board to get into faculty meetings to solicit sales.
In the other cases, according to Wilson, the matter was referred to the local school board for investigation and action. Every case has its own unique facts, but persistent nonpayment of taxes may meet the state's standard for removal, he said.
If nonpayment of taxes is insufficient, the school board is welcome to read some of my e-mail. This month I have received pages and pages of vicious and potentially libelous gossip from David Kolbinsky, all about his colleagues on the school board, their personal behavior and their morality or lack thereof. Some of the language is clearly meant to intimidate and malign, most of it is just plain tawdry. It is utterly chilling that an elected official would conduct himself this way. His apology to one colleague during public comment at Monday night's meeting is irrefutable evidence of this outrageous and conspicuously disreputable conduct.
Like a cornered child, caught in a lie, Kolbinsky has spewed this venom as though it would make him appear innocent in contrast.
It doesn't, and the dog didn't eat his tax bill, either. It's time for him to go.

The Kolbinsky chronicle continues
Originally published in:Chapel Hill Herald
Wednesday, August 28, 2002
Edition: Final
Page: 4
Jean Bolduc Columnist
So what does it matter when people pay their taxes as long as they're paid eventually?
Orange County school board member David Kolbinsky's well-documented financial troubles led him to lag behind in fulfilling his obligation to pay his property taxes. Kolbinsky boldly declared he wasn't even particularly embarrassed to participate in multimillion-dollar decisions while knowing that his own fair share would wait until he was good and ready to pay it.
As yet, he owes only last year's taxes.
Kolbinsky's dismissive attitude toward this bill being overdue was part of yet another disingenuous representation on his part - more disreputable conduct.
In an interview with The Chapel Hill Herald for a story that ran on Aug. 15, he said that his tax bill had slipped his notice.
"I heard from the tax office earlier this week, and they said that the accounts were past due and I needed to take care of them," Kolbinsky said. "I went down to the tax office and asked them what do I have to do? They told me and that's what I'll do."
That's baloney. Kolbinsky was well aware of his tax situation and has been in touch with the tax collector several times this year.
In March of this year, Kolbinsky paid $350 on his account. In July, he paid $142.13. On Aug. 6 (before my column mentioned his past due debt) he paid $200. All of these payments were credited toward his 1999 taxes.
It may be technically accurate that the tax office called Kolbinsky and told him what to do, but they've been talking to him regularly and he should have said as much.
Kolbinsky also said in his interview that he'd be current in his accounts by Aug. 16. He did not fulfill that promise. His past due amount at press time was $1,456.32. Those are all back taxes.
One wonders how long Kolbinsky had to wait for an ambulance when he was injured earlier this year. Imagine the 911 operator saying, "We knew when we decided to have a big county that the money would be tight."
Sorry you have to wait while we scrape up the money to send help to you. Sorry if your house is on fire. Sorry if you need the police. Sorry if you need a hepatitis shot or a rabies alert. No health department until we can hold a bake sale.
Fortunately, the county operates under a non-Kolbinsky standard. I talked last week with Jo Roberson with Orange County's tax office. She enlightened me about the things that residents can do to get their taxes paid on time and avoid falling behind - things like making monthly payments in advance, which many homeowners do through escrow accounts.
"We're not in the real estate business," Roberson said. The county doesn't want to foreclose on property - the county (on behalf of all of us) wants those tax dollars. "We try to work with folks who are in difficulty," Roberson said, "but we do have some people who use the tax office as a loan agency."
Roberson wasn't suggesting that this was true of the Kolbinskys, but she said that people try everything to scam the tax man, and Orange County has to stay on top of folks to get them to pay their due.
When a taxpayer tells the tax collector that he needs some time, they try to give it to him, but first, they do some research. If it turns out that the individual pays on time most years, they'll cut him some slack. If this is an annual excuse, they take a more stern approach - as well they should.
It's the tax collector's job to treat each taxpayer fairly, but not necessarily equally. Someone with few assets who has suffered a sudden illness or job loss deserves more consideration than someone with oodles of assets and a sloppy payment record.
Roberson encourages taxpayers to contact the tax office as soon as they know there may be a problem so that they can offer assistance in working out a payment plan.
And why is all this so important? According to Roberson, Orange County ranked second in North Carolina last year in its collection of due taxes. This effort on the part of our under-appreciated tax office translates directly to our quality of life.
It affects our bond rating. It pays for our teachers' local supplements. These are things that directly and immediately benefit all of us - even the Kolbinskys among us who speak of our tax office with contempt instead of appreciation for the often thankless job that they do.
Roberson mentioned, with all humility, that she and her co-workers take their positions as role models quite seriously.
"We pay our [taxes] on time," she said. "We don't like it any more than anyone else, but the law says we must, so we do. When you choose to work in a public venue, you're under more scrutiny."
She said that the county hopes to introduce a bank draft program to help taxpayers make regular payments in advance - a big help to senior citizens and others on fixed incomes who need to budget payments and remember to make them regularly. Those of us over 40 appreciate the ability to have a reminder of some sort and a bank statement is pretty reliable.
Even though it comes from a journalist, the next most reviled class of worker, I'll gladly declare my own appreciation for our tax collectors on Cameron Street.E Happy Labor Day to Roberson and all her colleagues. Y'all deserve the day off, a fine picnic and a pat on the back from all of us.

Grab your umbrella and vote
Originally published in:Chapel Hill Herald
Wednesday, September 04, 2002
Edition: Final
Page: 4
Jean Bolduc Columnist
During the great drought of 2002 it has been the little things that you notice and appreciate. A free glass of water with your dinner used to be part of the table setting, like a knife or a fork. Now, it's a decision - am I really going to drink it? If not, it's wasteful to ask for a glass of it ... maybe we should share.
At the beginning of last week, the forecast promised an afternoon of rain. Not enough to erase our near-desperate conditions, but every single drop helps, I thought. If it helps when I shut off the tap while brushing, then an afternoon of spotty showers is nearly a miracle.
The days passed last week and the conditions improved - it rained more and more. Our high temperatures were nearly 30 degrees lower than they had been the week before. I would never have thought that week of rain and apparent gloom could bring such a feeling of relief and exhilaration, but it did just that. When I heard that there was potential for a tropical storm to linger off the South Carolina coast for a few days, I cheered aloud.
Certainly, none of us wants the severe stuff - not another Floyd or its consequences. Instead, I'm just rooting for a sustained system that can be enough rain to re-saturate the soil, feed the living systems that we depend on and restore our sense of balance.
And we've been off balance for quite some time, where all of our sustaining systems are concerned.
This time last year, we were ending the summer of our obsessions with Gary Condit and his role in the late Chandra Levy's disappearance. Then, suddenly, we learned important and ugly lessons about freedom and vigilance.
Now, we are a year away from the raw wound of the September attacks. It has rained some. We have cried more than we knew was possible. The trade center site is cleared, leaving a gaping hole. How will we fill that void? Should we try?
The September attacks taught me to view a pristine late-summer sky with a sense of wonder and dread. When it is so perfectly clear, there is a beauty and a simultaneous vulnerability. We just have to accept it, each supports the other.
And so it is with freedom itself. Protecting our right to speak, to criticize our government and to change our government completely means that we live in a free society. Free societies are vulnerable places where citizens can come and go with no papers to present, no ability to clearly dem-onstrate our innocent intentions.
Now we are a nation in need of the courage of her convictions. For the last 30 or so years (since the end of our involvement in Vietnam and the Watergate scandal) our involvement with and trust of government has been in an ever-worsening drought.
As a nation, we lacked the spirit and the will to give unselfishly of ourselves to make the community better. We didn't believe that the simple act of voting, for example, had anything to do with keeping the nation safe and free. We didn't realize that knowing our next-door neighbors was an anti-terrorism tactic.
Now, we know better. Now, we see that there's a direct relationship between exercising our rights and keeping them. We are the government. Developing and supporting good leadership is our job - no one else's.
So even if you think that it's only the equivalent of shutting off the water while you brush, go out next Tuesday and vote. Who you choose to represent you on the school board, in the county government, in Raleigh and in Washington matters less than the act of choosing.
And take an umbrella - it might rain.

A year later: Ich bin ein New Yorker
Originally published in:Chapel Hill Herald
Wednesday, September 11, 2002
Edition: Final
Page: 4
Jean Bolduc Columnist
Last year on this day, I started my morning out in its ordinary routine. A little after 9, I sat at my computer and opened my browser to The Herald-Sun's Web page.
It was there that I saw the shocking photo of one of the trade center buildings with thick, black smoke billowing out. I burst out of my seat and ran to the television, where I remained, it seemed, for a week.
During those first days, watching the journalism field transform itself was simply amazing.
Reporters who the day before were interviewing janitors to ask if they'd seen Gary Condit throw away a piece of trash were now a few blocks from the Trade Center talking to people who were dazed, confused and injured.
No, not just injured. Some were bleeding, everyone was crying and reporters were soon among those weeping. Some barely able to complete interviews, there were images of New York City officials of every stripe hugging reporters, softening their voices whenever they spoke of those in the twin towers.
They reported haltingly that there were few casualties turning up in area hospitals.
After watching all the coverage, all the time, it seemed, my interest didn't fade. I wasn't in the hurry to "get back to normal" that I expected.
To be sure, as the months passed, my sense of immediacy changed. I wanted to read stories instead of watching reporters clamor for immediate details, I was more interested in reading more thoughtful stories that had taken days to develop.
The field that I love so much, that of finding and reporting facts, was helping the country to understand an act of war on a scale that was unprecedented in our history.
The layer of baloney among politicians was refreshingly stripped away for a time, too. I watched as Sen. Orrin Hatch of Utah spoke on the very day, Sept. 11, declaring unabashedly that this attack was the work of Osama bin Laden.
His demise, Hatch said, was the only acceptable outcome to respond to this attack. Our president's now famous "dead or alive" comments echoed that sentiment.
As days turned into weeks, however, Chapel Hill found its own way to "return to normal," but it was, instead, the normal of political correctness.
"God Bless America, woe to our enemies" read the banner at the Top of the Hill, yet someone found that offensive. No, wait, someone worried that someone else might find it offensive, and so the controversy over sign sizes began.
Yet we all knew it was what Scott Maitland said, not how big he said it. In fussing over a banner's excessive size during a time of war, our town looked small and cowardly. This same community that invited a black eye from the General Assembly just one year later by having the unmitigated gall to require incoming freshmen to read a book about the Quran.
Imagine ... a university requiring reading. Outrageous! Almost as daring as taking the chance of offending an enemy.
I have no patience for anyone trying to sell a T-shirt or a key ring with the twin towers on it. To that end, I'm not sure that some of the network programming that calls itself "commemorative" isn't really an excuse to re-run (with advertising) some of the most horrifying sequences of murder and mayhem ever recorded.
But looking back and stopping to thank our own firefighters, police and rescue workers for the work they do and the risks they take every day isn't maudlin.
It's respectful of those we lost and those who protect us still.
I'm not only "OK with that," I demand it. I want the country to have trouble getting through this day, this terrible day.
I want to know that we are not so cynical and so in love with the pop culture nonsense of "closure" that we skim over the vast and profound fracture in our nation's storied history.
Our history book has a handful of days that are "before and after" dates. They define us. They changed us forever.
There was the day we declared independence from England - a date that established our nation and declared a war. There were the first shots at Lexington and Concord and those at Fort Sumter.
We were one kind of nation before the Emancipation Proclamation and a different one the day after.
Dec. 7, 1941, was, in fact, a date that very much lives in infamy, just as President Roosevelt predicted it would. The murders of presidents Lincoln and Kennedy came at such delicate times in our nation's story that many still wonder how dramatically our history might have lurched in another direction had each of them lived.
Instead, two President Johnsons led a shocked and grieving nation into turbulent times. And with the resignation of Richard Nixon came the age of cynicism that broke our hearts and caused us to realize that many are called to power for power itself.
In each of these cases, our country can be described as being one way before and another way after.
Our post-Sept. 11 world is one in which, if we forget everything else, we should remember what those passengers on Flight 93 did before charging the hijackers and taking over the plane, an action that resulted in their own deaths.
Thanks to their cell phones, they knew of the attacks in New York and at the Pentagon, but before attempting to rush the hijackers, they took what they knew to be the only moral step to make the decision to pre-emptively strike down their would-be killers.
Before taking down the plane that we now know would likely have crashed into the U.S. Capitol, the passengers voted.

Every vote counts ... and another thing
Originally published in:Chapel Hill Herald
Wednesday, September 18, 2002
Edition: Final
Page: 4
Jean Bolduc Columnist
Every vote counts ... and another thing
When I see a celebrity on television talking about having a medical test done and what the results mean, it makes my skin crawl. Honestly, I really don't want to hear that "everyone should get this test because it saved my [fill in body part]."
Similarly, in politics, I don't really need Rosie O'Donnell to tell me how to vote.
As much as I like Rosie, she should stay out of that stuff and, instead, urge Americans of every political stripe to be sure they get out and do the voting, not just the complaining.
Being "famous" doesn't make any of us better, smarter or deserving of any special consideration.
In fact, in the matter of voting, we Americans want to be treated as close to anonymously as possible. Who we are and how we vote is as private a matter as we have in our civic lives.
I say this despite what happened to me on Sept. 10. I went inside to get the job done for which I'd come. I walked in with a married couple - people I certainly didn't know.
They went to the two guys who do the first part of the "check in" process.
"You can have any ballot you want, so long as it's Republican," said the first wiseguy.
Neither of the two marrieds got the joke. No really, they said, we're Democrats.
After a shrug, they handed over the Democratic ballot.
My turn next. "Jean Bolduc," I said.
Wiseguy number one verified the spelling. "Jean Bolduc, Democrat," he said to his colleague to the right - literally and otherwise, I expect.
"Democrat?!" asked his helper, obviously disappointed.
"Yes," he said.
I took my ballots, stepped to the next check-in area and said hello to my neighbor, who has volunteered at the polls for the past decade at least.
After voting, I put my ballots in the box and was walking over to get my "I voted" sticker when I heard this lady give her name at the check-in desk.
"Rolland Wrenn," she said. "W-R-E-N-N"
I walked up behind her and put my arm around her. "This lady is one of the great columnists from The Herald-Sun newspaper," I said.
She straightened up and turned around to look at me, smiling. "Do I know you?" she asked.
"Yes, ma'am," I said. "I'm Jean Bolduc. It's great to finally meet you."
Rolland gushed for a moment about how great it was to meet me, too, and how very much she enjoys reading my columns.
I thanked her and returned the compliment.
And then, the light dawned for the two wiseguys.
"Oh, that's it. You're that FAMOUS writer for the newspaper," said one of the two, absolutely dripping with sarcasm.
Without hesitation, Rolland and I, still standing arm in arm, each pointed to the other and said "She is" in unison. It was so hilarious, I nearly fell down.
He looked directly at me, squinting, then pointing accusingly and said "No, you ... YOU'RE that very famous writer I've been hearing so very much about."
I walked over to the heckler, who is Bob Bateman's cousin Carey Bateman, smiled, put on my sunglasses and said, "Oh, yes, I'm sure you have, and it's obviously time for me to go now."
Later in the day, I heard accounts from others that were similar and worse.
He asked one woman if she was married to a former elected official of a Democratic persuasion. He asked this while looking at the voter registration list, knowing the answer to his own question.
When she confirmed that yes, she was his wife, Carey Bateman said, "Oh ... I feel sorry for you." She didn't get the joke either.
I called the Board of Elections to see if I was being overly sensitive about this - it turns out, I'm not. Bateman's comments were completely out of bounds.
"I don't get the joke either," Director Carolyn Thomas told me. "We won't tolerate anything like that. I wish you had called me right that very minute," she said. She would have yanked him out of there immediately, she said.
"I promise you he won't be working another election in this county," Thomas said. Then, she thanked me for letting her know.
Precinct workers are trained to understand the things they can and cannot say during this check-in process.
The "cannot" list includes any commentary about party affiliation. The First Amendment doesn't apply in the voting process itself, except as it relates to the voter's expression on that ballot.
Whether it's specifically prohibited, an ounce of common sense would instruct most of us that the polling place is not the appropriate location to strike up an argument with a stranger.
Given the South's history, it's not surprising that most people are very sensitive about the issue of what happens in the precinct.
It's no time to allow any room for doubt about who's got a right to be there and how they choose to affiliate themselves.
I don't want to ever dread going to a polling place. I think that the act of going out to vote is among the most satisfying in all of civic life. Even if the Heckle and Jeckle crowd spoil that, I can still vote thanks to the "One Stop" option available at the Carrboro Town Hall, the Board of Elections office in Hillsborough and the Morehead Planetarium. This allows voters to drop by at their convenience in the two weeks preceding an election.
I'll find a way to get the job done, but I prefer my precinct - apparently home to famous writers.
Cheaters frequently prosper, apparently
Originally published in:Chapel Hill Herald
Wednesday, September 25, 2002
Edition: Final
Page: 4
Jean Bolduc Columnist
Recently on the "Today" show, Matt Lauer made a joking response when someone asked him what he scored on the SAT. Lauer said that he didn't remember, but he was pretty sure it was the same as the guy who sat next to him.
Lauer and his colleagues laughed, of course, because cheating your way to a college degree is in many ways a laughable, lazy, pathetic thing to do. Why stop at fudging on a paper here and there? Go ahead and print the degree from your computer and sign it yourself. It would be worth as much.
I have nothing but sympathy for the professors at UNC and other universities around the country who are stuck with the job of catching students who would clip a paragraph or two, rewrite it slightly, then claim to have attempted paraphrasing the author.
A few years ago, a friend called me, absolutely furious about a teacher's comments on a paper her daughter had written.
At my friend's request, I went over to her house to read the paper. I knew the daughter, then a high school junior, and was familiar with her writing skills. She'd written an article for a newsletter I was editing at the time.
The paper she'd written was about a classic piece of literature. It was clearly written by a scholar and not by this English student. To her credit, this Orange High School teacher read the first few pages and stopped. She wrote a note on the page that said she found the scholarship interesting, but it was clearly not the student's work, so she'd stopped reading.
Her instructions were, I thought, generous. She said that if this student was ready to write something of her own and submit it, she'd be willing to read it and give her a grade.
Not wishing to offend my friend and giving the student the benefit of the doubt, I asked her questions about the paper. I asked her to describe for me, in her own words, the issues discussed in the introductory section of the paper. In other words, I asked her to paraphrase herself.
She couldn't do it. She couldn't come anywhere close to doing it. She was clueless about what the paper's main argument was or who the characters were that she was writing about.
She deserved an F for the course. This was no accident. This was a kid who found some article written on this literature and just typed it up and called it her own.
I told my friend that, in my opinion, her daughter had surrendered to the temptation of lifting someone else's work. Though she had promised to abide by my objective opinion, she appealed the matter at the school.
I don't blame her for that in a way. Parents can't be expected to be objective, but they ought to realize the opportunity that is presented by such a situation. It's a chance to teach morality for its own sake.
Your personal integrity is all you really have in securing a good education. Expanding your mind and your thinking is one of the few things that you can do in life that can never be erased or revoked.
You can throw opportunities away with both hands, however. That is exactly what these "students" do when they steal the work of others and represent it as their own. People who might never knock over a convenience store seem to think nothing of lifting a page or two from a scholar who has put in 15 years of research.
I'm thrilled that the professors now have the technological equivalent of the 7-Eleven security camera to catch them and throw them out. Let 'em flip burgers and sweep up instead of diminishing the value of a college degree by cheating their way to graduation day.

Risking the loss of hair power
Originally published in:Chapel Hill Herald
Wednesday, October 02, 2002
Edition: Final
Page: 4
Jean Bolduc ColumnistI put myself in the hands of an expert with sharp scissors this week and got a new look. It's short - really short.
Rosie O'Donnell and an old friend got me thinking about it, actually. O'Donnell quit her show and has recently stirred up all kinds of controversy and fuss over the fact that she used bad language in her stand-up comedy act and insisted on editorial control of the magazine that bears her name.
Then, the haircut. O'Donnell doesn't have an enviable body, but she does have thick, healthy hair and plenty of it. She not only cut it short ... she cut it dramatically short. Heck, I'll bet that's a No. 3 clipper they used to do one side of it.
I gasped when I first saw it, but quickly decided that I liked it. Not only because it flattered her face, but because she turned 40, quit her show, cut off her hair and ... well ... went a little nuts.
I admire that. I appreciate the nerve it takes to leave the known for the possible. I have a lot of appreciation for being willing to see yourself in a different way - to put your self-esteem on the line.
The other night I was Instant Messaging over the Internet with an old friend who is now in another state. I haven't seen him in a couple of years now and we were catching up on people and places - family news and gossip.
He told me that he had run into someone here in North Carolina who either of us would cross the street to avoid. The creep didn't recognize my friend, though, because my friend had shaved his head.
Wow, I responded. What made you do that?!
It was easy, he told me. He did it because his sister was going through chemotherapy for ovarian cancer. She was losing her hair, so to make her feel better, he gave up his voluntarily.
Apparently families and friends of cancer patients often do this sort of thing. I saw a story about a high school swimmer who got cancer and his teammates shaved their heads in solidarity. They even picked up a second or two, they said.
I hope my friend's dome has a flattering shape. That's a lot of hats to buy if it turns out you have a big dent on top or something.
Still, for we of the XX composition, our hair is a big deal. I've always admired Annie Lennox, the singer from Eurythmics, for keeping her hair so very short and dressing in men's suits. Though she seems to eschew the standards for female beauty, she never seems to look unfeminine. It helps to be gorgeous.
For the rest of us, there's the need for height. We tease, we spray, we hang our heads upside-down then flip back and preen. To be left with those few strands just hanging there ... it's just unthinkable.
But now it's October. It's breast cancer awareness month and I'm reminded of those thousands of women who are picking out scarves and hats and wigs, to retain their sense of dignity and beauty as they take on the fight to save their own lives.
For all of us, controlling the way we look is a way of keeping our hands on the wheel - staying in charge of ourselves. For cancer patients, that's more than a morale booster, it a part of defeating your opponent - the disease. You have to fight cancer with every tool in the bag. You have to be committed.
And in that regard, the beauty of the scissors is their lack of ambiguity. Once she started cutting, I was in for the whole ride. It's good to shake things up, I guess.
But, it will grow back ... right?

Talking to the police, and listening
Originally published in:Chapel Hill Herald
Wednesday, October 09, 2002
Edition: Final
Page: 4
Jean Bolduc Columnist
Last week, I got a delightful and unexpected call from none other than Carolyn Hutchison, Carrboro's police chief. She called to comment on my column from last week and to catch up - it's been a while since we last spoke.
I used to talk to Chief Hutchison from time to time when I covered the town of Carrboro. I complimented her on the fact that I haven't seen her name in the paper much lately. Her town has been pretty quiet from a crime perspective.
It's funny that when things go wrong, the police chief gets the blame, but I'll bet nobody's offering to double her salary when things are quiet. Hutchison is easy to talk to and we share an irreverent sense of humor. It occurs to me that the job of a police chief is so often more one of communications than chasing a bad guy through a parking lot.
This kind of communication - that of relationship building - is something that Hutchison seems to do very well. It translates well in her job, both in how she deals with her staff and how she works with the community.
Since late last week, I've been listening with care to the many press briefings given by Chief Charles Moose, the head of the Montgomery County, Md., Police Department. The recent sniper attacks there have put the chief in the very frustrating position of giving press conferences with precious little to tell that's specific or soothing.
Moose has been head of his department just a year and half, but his more than 20 years of experience as a cop is serving him well this past week. He's smart enough to know that, especially in a crisis like the one he's facing, hearing from the police is important to calm the nerves of the community.
As he spoke Monday afternoon about the shooting of a 13-year-old boy, Moose became emotional, describing all of the sniper's victims as innocent, but that the shooting of this child was simply over the line. "Personal" was the term he used to describe this particular attack, and tears streamed down his cheek as he expressed resolve to bring to justice the shooter(s).
I feel sure that Chief Moose's community is squarely behind him. If he says "Jump," they'll only ask how high.
In contrast, I couldn't help but think of the remarkably disconnected communications delivered by Durham's City Manager Marcia Conner. When she announced the ill-fated selection of a police chief some weeks ago, I couldn't help but notice that she did so while standing at a podium - before an empty auditorium.
She made a formal announcement, reading a statement and taking no questions - a one-way valve. This only grew worse and more disconnected as the revelations regarding her choice came forward. Rather than sitting down with reporters, Conner became less and less available.
Also last week came Durham Mayor Bill Bell who said that he no longer could sit quietly and watch the violent crime numbers get worse and worse while Conner breaks another promise - that of an early deadline for her renewed search.
Durham officials are caught in a terrible cycle in how they talk to the community. Conner even resorted to a pathetic display of finger-pointing.
"The police can't do it all," she was quoted as saying. The media, she said, should say to criminals "you're not wanted in our city and our neighborhoods."
Surely, if the crime statistics should turn around in Durham, The Herald-Sun will get no credit for the reversal. Indeed, when citizens are urged to support anti-crime legislation, the money typically is slated for police departments, not newsrooms.
But just for the record, everyone I know at The Herald-Sun is against crime and in favor of public officials accounting for how they do their jobs. Maybe that's the rub.

Just in from the coast - oh, my tired arms
Originally published in:Chapel Hill Herald
Wednesday, October 16, 2002
Edition: Final
Page: 4
Jean Bolduc Columnist
I spent a few days in Los Angeles on business last week. From this experience, I have determined that I am an ordinary American.
I'm part of that massive number of people who exist somewhere in the middle of the bell curve - the huddled masses. Maybe it's all that standing in line when you travel. It gives you time to think about what you're doing and how you fit in.
I enjoyed talking to the people in line. I was in lines in Baltimore, Nashville, Los Angeles and Durham, of course, as I waited to leave. People talk about the same things in these situations. They avoid controversy. They talk about sports teams. They talk about the weather. They talk about the line.
That's a study in human behavior all itself. Maybe we should treat our family members during the holidays as though we were standing in line with them. Steer clear of touchy subjects - politics and religion. Talk about the food. Talk about the football game.
I flew Southwest Airlines this time. I wanted to try the airline because I've heard so many good things about them. As far as I can tell, it's all true.
I was impressed with how Southwest responded to the troubles that Midway Airlines had. When local workers were laid off, Southwest promptly held a job fair here in the Triangle ... trying to snatch up some good people they said.
They must have snatched up all the good ones we had. Flying Southwest Airlines is just plain fun.
On one of my flights, I heard three things I don't remember ever hearing on an airplane before - singing, irreverent humor and applause.
Taking our seats on the flight leaving Raleigh-Durham, the attendant said we could sit anywhere - "just like church," she said. There were comments about the seats being almost as uncomfortable as pews. The flight attendant didn't argue.
At one point, a flight attendant made an announcement about the seat belt sign remaining on and why that had to be done. Moments later, the pilot made a nearly identical announcement. The attendant then came back with "and now, back to your regularly scheduled programming ..." I think that's a polite way of saying "Uh - duh."
Coming into Baltimore, the announcement came that we were landing about 35 minutes ahead of our scheduled arrival. When the passengers didn't really react, the attendant tried again.
"Once again, let me point out that we are arriving here in Baltimore 35 minutes AHEAD of our scheduled arrival time," she said, emphatically. We laughed, then applauded.
"That's more like it," she said. "And if you fly with us again sometime soon, remember that you don't get to complain if we're 35 minutes late, because we're entitled to do that now." We booed.
How quickly an audience can turn on you!
As we taxied to the gate, another attendant sang for us to the tune of "This Old Man Came Rolling Home." It went something like this:
Thanks for flying
With Southwest
We think flying is the best
It's a lot more fun and faster than the bus
Marry one of us and you'll fly free.
Now, I'm sure I missed a verse in there somewhere, but the point remains. The experience on the plane, as at the gate, checking ID and anywhere that gave me contact with a Southwest employee reminded me of the most important thing in a successful business - the people. Clearly, Southwest has a culture of fun at every level. They all smile, they joke with passengers, and they're determined to make flying fun again.
I'm old enough to remember when it was fun to fly somewhere - almost anywhere, really. The butterflies I get before flying used to be about the excitement of the trip itself - not anxiety over flying. It's good to know that can come back again.

All politics local, except candidates
Originally published in:Chapel Hill Herald
Wednesday, October 23, 2002
Edition: Final
Page: 4
Jean Bolduc ColumnistI
t may not be a race for dogcatcher or county commissioner, but I consider the U.S. Senate race an important one for me, my kids and our family. With great anticipation, we watched the debate between our two candidates for Senate.
The format of Saturday's debate was ill-considered and physically awkward for the candidates. Elizabeth Dole was the first to pop out from behind her lectern, a move matched by Erskine Bowles and equally awkward for him.
I kept getting up, going into the kitchen, coming back and sitting in a different place in the room. More than the movement of the candidates themselves, I had trouble following the bouncing ball of their positions - especially Dole's.
Offering her resume as a Cabinet member under presidents Reagan and Bush, Dole reminded the audience that during her tenure as transportation secretary, the government issued regulations requiring that cars be manufactured with airbags and a third brake light.
How could this be? I thought Dole was the conservative candidate - the Republican. Was she pointing out that she helped institute new federal regulations to protect consumers?
A moment later, she was talking about Bowles' trusting the federal government, while she trusts you and me. Maybe so, but she didn't trust our driving habits enough to expect us to not rear-end the guy in front of us. We needed her help to stop that.
And while we're on the topic of driving, she reached into my living room and said that she wants a sample of my son's bodily fluids. That's right, my almost 14-year-old son will be taking a driving test before too long, and Dole says that her plan calls for him to have a drug test before he can get a driver's license.
For the sake of this discussion, we should ignore that the federal government doesn't issue driver's licenses. No doubt this would all be attached to the conveyance of federal highways to develop infrastructure and provide leverage for the federal government to muck around in state affairs - just as the feds do with education dollars. But I digress.
No, more to the point, Dole said, she wants to make clear to kids - to MY kid, that "drugs aren't cool, they kill."
I like "just say no" better. At least Nancy Reagan came by that line somewhat honestly. A kid asked her what he was supposed to say when his friends pressured him to smoke dope. Her response caught on for its obvious appeal - that if you can say yes, you can say no, too. Just make the choice and be responsible for it.
Dole's drug testing idea for a driver's license is an insidious example of where politics have gone so terribly wrong. It's a position offered by a woman with no children of her own, telling me, the mother of two children, that the federal government will be responsible for making sure that my son doesn't drive while impaired by drugs.
It's not just that this position is a campaign promise with no real support, no real future, no depth of thought as to the implications that bothers me. No, it's the pure insult of such a proposal - the sheer gall of thinking that voters are so vapid that we can't think through what this would mean.
Now I should sit back and relax because the federal government will test my teen before he gets a license? In doing this testing, the government would know that on that one single day, his urine was free of illicit drugs. So what? So after this, the roads would be safer?
This would predict nothing and presumably would be a test not imposed on new residents who come to this state - new residents who may be moving in with the baggage of multiple DWI convictions in their past.
No, I don't think we need Washington to muck around in how we issue a driver's license in this state. North Carolina's graduated licensing program is a good one. If Dole had lived here the last several years, she'd know that. But she hasn't. She's been here long enough to fill out some paperwork to transfer her voter registration for technical reasons. No one has spotted the Doles moving out of the Watergate apartment they've shared for many years.
Even though her husband asked the voters to "send [him] to the White House or send [him] home to Kansas," Elizabeth and Bob Dole have stayed put at the Watergate - in the apartment adjacent to the Lewinskys. I just hope no one steps on Dole's mother as they burn rubber to leave Salisbury on Nov. 5, regardless of the election's outcome.
I was disappointed in Bowles, too. His campaign has repeatedly thrown the Social Security issue around in an effort to scare the tar out of senior citizens. As unnecessary as Dole's privatization plan is, it would not affect benefits for current Social Security recipients.
Bowles' chuckling and sighing during the debate reminded me too much of Al Gore - snooty and dismissive. He, too, has spent a lot of time in the Beltway and not enough at the local Rotary Club or church supper.
In this race, there's enough baloney coming from both sides to make a heck of a sandwich - cold comfort to us who will have to depend on the winner to represent us when it's all said and done.

Walking the walk, talking the talkOriginally published in:Chapel Hill HeraldWednesday, October 30, 2002Edition: FinalPage: 4JEAN BOLDUC ColumnistAnyone in my house can tell you, I have an addiction. There never seems to run an episode of "Law & Order" that I won't be glued to when it comes on. Following a case from the invariably grisly beginning to the last bang of the judge's gavel is for me what Perry Mason was for my mother.
I take more than a little ribbing about my attachment to crime shows. My kids and their friends hate to join me in watching movies that have a murder mystery in them - apparently, I'm a little too prone to sniffing out that bad guy at the end of the first act.
In the last month, we have watched all at once grimacing and unable to look away as the Washington, D.C.-area snipers have gone about their murderous way. Some have criticized the extensive news coverage as excessive, perhaps even exploitative.
One or two pundits have suggested that the high interest in the television coverage reflects Americans seeing these events as "entertainment." These pundits are surely among the numbers of Americans who last week made the movie "Jackass" number one at the box office.
As I have watched this story with grim fascination, I continued to be impressed with UNC alumnus and Montgomery County Police Chief Charles Moose, who exuded our state's motto - to be rather than to seem. According to a story in this newspaper, the chief has both an undergraduate and doctoral degree from the Southern Part of Heaven.
When Chief Moose came out to the press conference he has so looked forward to - the "We've got our suspect(s) ... alive" announcement - he demonstrated a kind of class and dignity that was just plain moving.
Emerging from the building, the hard-nosed, cynical reporters applauded. A small, but unmistakable smile crept across Moose's face for a moment as he walked toward the podium, ahead of his colleagues. He quickly wiped the slight grin from his face and gently waved his right hand toward the reporters, indicating they should stop the display of victory.
This was no time for celebrating, he indicated with that simple, discreet gesture. He then proceeded with the expected announcement, and others came up to microphone to announce and pay respects to the shooters' victims.
As reporters inquired briefly, asking Moose what his feelings were, what his sense of relief was, what his sense of accomplishment might be, he dismissed the queries.
Moose had to be exhausted but professionally gratified that such a high-profile case had reached this stage. Working through to this point must have been one heck of a ride, professionally speaking.
This was not about him, he said. Not at all. His respect for the human toll, and the dignity and professionalism that required him to take few questions, then call it a night are the kinds of traits that we need in our society. They transcend the job you're in. They make it possible for a governor to pay tribute to a bus driver with emotion and appreciation for service and sacrifice.
Twice in two years, we have been reminded in the most horrific manner that people who go off to work and do so-called everyday jobs are not guaranteed the ride home from work. Again, we can see the need to say, "Have a good day at work or school, I love you," to our spouses and children, respectively, and to really mean it.
Forgiving inconsequential differences becomes easier with such focus. It's less about living in fear than it is the realization of life's frailty and the sometimes cruelly ironic equality of how evil can lurk and strike.
Tomorrow night, the kids in my neighborhood will try to scare me as I open my front door. They'll dress up in costumes with their faces painted with phony scars, and scream with make-believe bloodlust as they haunt my front yard in the annual spooky tradition.
It's a joyful thing, Halloween. Trick or Treat.
My English homework is 27 years lateOriginally published in:Chapel Hill HeraldWednesday, November 06, 2002Edition: FinalPage: 4JEAN BOLDUC ColumnistAnticipating the occasion of my 25th high school class reunion last year, I set up a Web site just for fun. It has turned out to be some of the best money I ever spent on the entertainment side, and much, much more.
Not long after the site was set up, America was struck right between the eyes in the terrorist attacks last fall. Dozens of my classmates posted messages on the reunion site, expressing their shock and grief. We railed and reminisced about the unstable Middle East that we studied in high school and how so little had changed while we were growing up into the next generation of worried parents.
One of our classmates lost his older brother in the World Trade Center last September. Another saw his teenage son shipped off to Kuwait to patrol the Iraqi border.
The Web site was a lot of fun during the actual reunion over last Thanksgiving, with classmates from all over the country chatting live with those who were able to attend the party in New England.
Since the party, things have gotten more quiet, but many of us are keeping in touch.
We hadn't heard much from the teachers, though. Not until last week, when I got a letter (through the "regular" mail) from one of my English teachers, Jan Glitzenstein (we called her "the Glitz").
It seems her daughter-in-law found the reunion Web site, and that led to the letter. Though the Glitz does use the Internet, she had some trouble hooking up with my e-mail at first. That's all fixed now, though.
After opening her letter, I ran to my keyboard and dashed off a message to her e-mail address, which she was kind enough to enclose. I told her that her name had come up as I corresponded with my friend Liz after so many years.
Oh, she remembered Liz just fine, she said. She recounted a harrowing tale of the two of us making her life miserable one day in her poetry class. We "sold her down the river," she said, when her boss came in to observe one day. The poem was John Donne's "A Valediction: Forbidding Mourning."
Liz and I, according to her account, basically boycotted the assignment after having been scolded for being to chatty in class the days preceding. We obeyed our correction. We sat mute as she reviewed the piece to the sound of mosquitoes in the classroom.
As I raised my hand, she called on me, but I clarified that I was just scratching my head ... nothing to offer.
I don't know what was funnier - what a great stunt that was, or the fact that she remembered it so vividly and I had totally forgotten it. Even better, she said that she'd gotten the big smackdown from her boss, that she was using material too difficult and should consider easier work for us.
And so began the downward spiral of American education. I admit it - it's my own fault.
I regaled my former teacher with the fact that I was working with my son to complete his book report on "To Kill A Mockingbird." His reading list at Cedar Ridge High School looks a lot like ours from those many years ago. That's a comfort to me.
To make it up to her, I looked up Donne's poem on the Internet. I read it carefully, thought about it with serious determination. I wrote back to "the Glitz" and offered my analysis of the poem, which is about the separation of a man from his soul at the time of their parting - his death.
It's a foolish thing to try and explain their love for each other, Donne says, for it is a love that is too complex and unfathomable, too important to reduce to so clumsy a thing as words and expressions. And the weeping and grieving so associated with mourning is a disservice to the dead, he says, as it diminishes the passion for living that the lost one enjoyed.
I read all of this and wrote my commentary back to my high school English teacher, along with my earnest request for an appealed transcript if she thought the work was worthy. I also was fascinated with how contemporary the work was as it applied to the memorial service of Senator Paul Wellstone. The important thing to remember about it was that Wellstone would have enjoyed it - even the controversy.
And so, my English teacher was kind and said that I did a good job in my review of the work. She offered to amend my transcript, which has surely been reduced to microfilm by now.
What hasn't been diminished, however, is my affection for my high school teachers. They were sending us into a cynical post-Vietnam/Watergate world. They sent us out there, heavily armed with the power of questions - the power of citizenship.
We were very lucky in those days - safe schools, a high standard of literacy and expectations for a better tomorrow. If we'd known then that they were the good old days, maybe we'd have enjoyed them more. I know that if I had it to do over again, I would have read more poetry.
A cheering crowd for good gradesOriginally published in:Chapel Hill HeraldWednesday, November 13, 2002Edition: FinalPage: 4JEAN BOLDUC ColumnistNo one begrudges the support shown for sports teams. They're an important part of school life, giving energy and pride to the whole school when they struggle with their rivals on their respective "fields of battle."
That said, if you ask most sports fans what distinguishes Carolina and Duke from the rest of the NCAA most glaringly, it would be their graduation rates, which have never been sacrificed in the name of winning a championship.
Coaches from both schools take as much pride in being educators and mentors as they do in how many trophies they possess. That's one of the reasons that we, their fans, take relentless pride in them. Their real excellence is reflected in the uncompromising academic commitment their programs represent and reward through scholarships and other awards.
Somewhere out there is a genius who came up with the idea that it would be smart to overtly scream and shout for kids who show up every day and hit the books to achieve academic excellence.
This is, at least in part, the mission of the Renaissance Club, which sponsored an academic pep rally at Cedar Ridge High School on Friday. It's the Orange County Schools' affiliate member of a national organization that partners with businesses to provide recognition and reward for students who are getting the job done in school.
Students received a certificate of recognition, as well as a coupon book that entitles them to discounts at movies, fast-food restaurants and the like. I confess, I was disappointed that I didn't see any coupons in there for the big-name bookstore chains that would seem to be a logical choice for sponsorship.
The rally recognized students who had perfect attendance through the first marking period or had a GPA of 2.5 or better.
I arrived at the gym on Friday to find cheerleaders, a band and bleachers filled with buzzing teenagers.
The band is a humble unit. They're not at full strength as I understand it, but fear not. They can (and did) knock the roof off the place with their music. I shudder to think what they'll be able to do when they double in size, and I pity the enemies of the Red Wolves on the football field when that band is playing.
And play they did. "The Star-Spangled Banner" came up early, of course. We sang and they played ... at the perfect level, in my estimate. Quiet enough that we could hear singing, loud enough that the people next to me probably couldn't make out my crackling tones.
And on we went to the greetings and speeches. They were much as we'd expect on such occasions. The bad acoustics of a gym don't lend any help to a speaker trying to whip up a crowd.
No, this was an occasion best suited to singing and dancing, and holy mackerel, did we ever get those.
The Cedar Ridge High School Gospel Chorus is a rock 'em, sock 'em, stompin'-awesome, breathtaking bunch, led by their director, Jason Thompson.
They walked to the middle of the gym floor and gathered in a circle. I don't know why, really, but I just had a feeling in watching how they carried themselves that these kids could really sing. I mean really, really sing.
Sad for us, they did only one selection, but I could have listened to them all day. In fact, I hope that they will consider this a formal request for a CD of their music. If the Orange County Schools wants to recover that $179,000 it just sent back to Raleigh, it should look into CD sales from this chorus.
Dealing with the excess profits will be the real problem, but I'm confident that we can find a home for the money.
Speaking of which, a woman sitting next to me told me that her granddaughter was on the Dance Team that performed at the event. They did a tribute performance for the many honorees and also were quite impressive.
The team was disappointed recently, the grandmother told me, because the uniforms the dancers were promised would not be paid for by the school. The money went to recycling bins instead, she was told. "And they didn't even really need them," she said. "They have plenty of them."
I have trouble imagining the spreadsheet that puts dance team uniforms and recycling bins in the same budget category. If that's the case, maybe that controversial sod for the football field could have come from the money designated for stocking the library.
Back to the Gospel Chorus. I do want to go on record about just one thing. The music they performed was religious music, about the love God gives us - that it never fails.
As much as I love and support the work of all those who protect civil liberties, let me be the first in line to urge ... do not "protect" me from hearing this or any other gospel music in a public high school.
The chorus, by its existence, is a form of religious expression supported by a public institution. It is a celebration of the First Amendment to hear them sing, not a violation of it.
Any which way, the event was a blast for us parents and, obviously, for our kids, whose school is taking on a life and personality of its own.
Go Red Wolves!
My own exclusive club - for idiotsOriginally published in:Chapel Hill HeraldWednesday, November 20, 2002Edition: FinalPage: 4JEAN BOLDUC ColumnistThe word exclusive means, of course, to exclude - to keep out. In our society, we are increasingly (and thankfully) focused on the opposite much of the time. Some would even say we are obsessed with inclusion - the practice of deliberately including through outreach and solicitation.
I've decided to start an exclusive club, a club for idiots. If you have an ounce of common sense, I'm sorry, this club is not for you. No offense, you just wouldn't feel welcome.
My marketing base is enormous, perhaps endless in fact, as eligible prospective members keep appearing in a most reliable fashion. Just a few examples for your consideration:
Making the rounds on the Internet is a story about a guy who walked into a fast-food restaurant and tried to order a half-dozen chicken nibbles (or whatever that restaurant calls them). Nobody really knows what's in them, just that they taste great.
The fresh young face behind the counter explained that he could not comply. "We only have boxes of 6, 9 or 12," he said. "No half-dozen boxes." The befuddled customer settled on six and walked away scratching his head.
My husband came home last week and told me that he had a nominee. It was the person who sent him a fax containing some important information. It was so critical in fact that she included this message at the bottom: "Please call me if you didn't get this fax."
I think he should have faxed back a blank page, documenting the phone call he didn't make. Common sense prevailed, however, and he decided to just laugh and disregard the stupidity of it. Too bad. He's excluded from the club.
A self-appointed women's rights activist was recently on a talking head "news" program on television blustering about the need for the Augusta National Golf Club to include women among its members. The club is a private one. It does not admit women as members, though they are welcome to play there at invitational tournaments and as a guest of a member.
The club should be forced to admit women, said the talking head, because excluding them is depriving them of equal access to the game of golf. As delighted as I am to take on anyone who is discriminating against women, this argument is as laughable as it is insulting.
I have played golf for the better part of 30 years. I started playing with my dad's clubs. There weren't any clubs for kids back then, and though there were women's clubs, I didn't have a set of those until I was in my twenties. I'm a member at Occoneechee Golf Club in Hillsborough - have been for years. I play too seldom, but love the game. The thing I love the very most about it is that I can play it with men and beat the tar out of some of them. The course and the game are designed to make the playing field equal for men and women golfers as well as old versus young golfers. That's an equality that golf offers that most other sports cannot come close to claiming.
Occoneechee could help me out a little by making hole No. 2 a ladies' par five, but I have no complaints. After all, the ladies' tee on No. 6 (a par four) gives me an outrageous advantage - about 100 yards. I've nearly driven the green on that hole. It evens things out over the round. Besides, one day, I'll drive the ball long enough to get on the green in two on No. 2. Goals are important.
I can't join Augusta National. That's fine with me. I come down with Tiger Woods, Karrie Webb and Annika Sorenstam on this one. It's their club, say the best golfers in the world. They can do what they want.
When the women's game is big and strong enough to bring crowds and millions of dollars to Augusta, they'll change their rules - just like they did to admit Woods, a guy who will never be admitted to my exclusive club for idiots. I doubt he's disappointed.
Icy blast, some snow (at last), brrrrrOriginally published in:Chapel Hill HeraldWednesday, December 11, 2002Edition: FinalPage: 4JEAN BOLDUC ColumnistOK, I admit it ... at first, it looked kind of fun last Wednesday - the flakes were falling and the snow desk was busy on all the local channels.
As visions of a wintry Christmas morning began dancing through my head, my husband, Rick, was slipping and sliding his way home from work. He started onto Interstate 85 but quickly noticed that the cars were stopped on the highway. He backed down the on-ramp and took the back roads home - a 45-minute adventure that normally would take less than one-third of that time. He talked to a friend from his office the next day whose equally short commute took more than three hours.
Rick was lucky. He arrived home before dark, and we paced the floor until about 5:30, when our son's school bus finally arrived - an hour and a half late, but in one piece.
As the evening wore on, we anticipated being home for a day or two of sledding and snowball fights. Maybe a downed tree here or there, but we'd been through plenty of ice before.
During the night, it sounded like thunder and more on our roof. About 7 in the morning, the next grand thump came, followed by a rolling sound and a crash outside. A maple tree hangs over our bedroom, and large limbs were breaking off, landing on the roof, rolling off and landing in a remarkably neat pile in the back yard.
Similarly, limbs and branches filled our back deck, dangled from the roof and were scattered across parts of our driveway. When we got outside to inspect the damage, we could do so only briefly, as limbs were breaking off and falling (from very high perches) every few minutes.
It's a dangerous time, after a storm like this, but it always tells a lot about your neighborhood. Rick and several of our neighbors soon were out on the street, cutting up our precious fallen trees to clear the road.
When you're cutting with a chain saw like that, you can't really hear the trees crackling and breaking all around you. You have to watch the tree you're cutting with one eye and the sky with another. My husband is an insurance executive, not a tree surgeon, but he did just fine - nothing broken, and the road got cleared.
In 1973, when I was about 15, we had a major ice storm in Connecticut. We had a bit more snow on the ground at the time and no relief on the temperature side for many, many days.
There were thousands of homes without power, and we should have been in a state of emergency, but we were not.
This was because Connecticut's governor was in New Hampshire on a ski vacation with his family. He elected not to come home and did not see fit to make an emergency declaration.
Such declarations are more than political public relations - they allow townships to declare curfews to clear the streets and prevent looting and other criminal activity.
Power companies can confiscate generators or other equipment needed to restore power and vital services.
Emergency plans of all sorts can be activated under a declared state of emergency and paid for from contingency funds instead of draining routine budgets. It could determine whether my homeowner insurance rate goes up if I file a claim to repair my gutters.
So when our governor returned to Connecticut back in '73, he found the end of his political career waiting for him. He was bounced handily in the next election.
In 1978, we were smacked with a blizzard that delivered 24 inches of snow in a day. Ella Grasso, our new governor, declared an emergency just hours into the storm, whose proportion was clear on the weather forecast.
We were cold, and many were without vital services for a day or two, but the streets were empty and power crews had all they needed to get the job done safely and quickly.
Can you say enough good things about anyone who lends a helping hand in the bitter cold during these situations? Whether it's your neighbor bringing you a bowl of warm soup or a cup of hot tea or utility workers working 12- (and more) hour shifts to bring back the juice - holy mackerel! There's an awful lot of good people out there working very, very hard to help others.
What do you want for Christmas? I want an outrageous list of miracles and wonders. I want every kid in East Durham who has been shivering for the last week to have a half-hour in a hot tub and no homework for the month of January. I want all their wishes for toys to come true. I want them to see a gentle blanket of 3 inches of snow on Christmas morning, with all of the beauty and none of the inconvenience.
Mostly, I want to continue my rediscovered appreciation for the miracle of electricity. You know what they say: Without it, we'd be watching TV by candlelight.

A Lott of intolerance, a lot to learnOriginally published in:Chapel Hill HeraldWednesday, December 18, 2002Edition: FinalPage: 4JEAN BOLDUC ColumnistWhen all is said and done, our nation and our neighborhoods should thank Senate Majority Leader Trent Lott (R-Miss.) for his contribution to race relations in the United States. If we make a quantum leap in the next few years, we owe it largely to him.
I say this not because I agree with his oft-quoted view on the merits of electing Strom Thurmond president in 1948. I say it because his bumbling effort to extract himself from inadvertently revealing his ideas on race has launched a debate on race that will tell us a great deal about the future of American politics, all of which are local.
Years ago, I stood before the Orange County Commissioners and talked about the need for a local human rights ordinance. The Klan is alive and well in Orange County, I said. And so it was. There were members sitting in the audience just a few feet away.
After the meeting, a friend asked me how I had the nerve to do such a thing - to simply acknowledge what everyone in the room knew to be true. My answer was one of confusion and quandary. What else would you do? Ignore it? Deny it?
I appreciate that intuitive response. After a local Klan rally I'd read with interest a story on a local paper's front page. It featured a stunning color photograph of a woman Klan member angrily gesturing toward the crowd. It was a great news photo and a very intimidating image. Absolutely chilling.
The only thing that could top it was the feeling I had (a paralysis, basically) when I was in the Hillsborough Wal-Mart a few days later and found myself standing right next to the very same woman, who seemed like a nice enough person without her hood.
I wish I could report that I had some clever line to deliver to her. I didn't. I was stunned to see her and intimidated by her very presence there. Those are the very local, personal effects of a system that demeans and terrorizes people.
And so when Trent Lott makes some stupid remark about all the "problems" our country could have avoided by electing a segregationist Dixiecrat, I realize that if not for the actions of local folks in small communities all across the South, he might have slipped another one through.
Another wink-wink wisecrack like so many that he and thousands of other tiny-minded rich white guys have used as "the code" for the last 30 or so years. The tacit understanding that they really know who's boss but have to take on certain appearances to make nice with the folks who somehow got the right to vote.
Blacks, women, pick your group - the candidates have to pay their dues and make it look right for them, but then the wink-wink code conveys that, after the election, they'll go back to business as usual.
As we watched Lott on Black Entertainment Television on Monday night, looking like a hostage reading a prepared statement written by his captors, I was struck by one simple fact.
Jesse Helms would never find himself in a mess like this. He wouldn't go on BET and vow his support for affirmative action and talk about how "white America didn't understand the contribution of Martin Luther King Jr." to explain his vote against the King holiday. Once again, Lott speaks for himself.
Not Helms. He'd go on there and say, hell, yes, he thinks various forms of discrimination are just fine and dandy. Take him or leave him, at least Helms knows who he is.
Lott's stammering and ineffective attempts to extricate himself are failing because he lacks the integrity to simply stand up and say what he believes. What he believes in is power and the idea that he should keep it.
Leaving Lott to be devoured by his colleagues is all he deserves, but the local, state and national debate he has accidentally launched could have lasting meaning and value. Every 2004 political race, from school board to county commissioner to president, just got much more interesting.
All I want under tree is peace, quietOriginally published in:Chapel Hill HeraldWednesday, December 25, 2002Edition: FinalPage: 4JEAN BOLDUC ColumnistI've decided that the universal Christmas wish for "Peace on Earth" has been widely misunderstood. In reality, all we really need is a couple of days of peace, all right - peace and quiet.
And whom do we turn to in the annual failed attempt at accomplishing this? Our families, often in another state.
And so, ignoring the logic of "I moved far away for a good reason" we get together over the most stress-packed couple of days available on the calendar. It's pure genius, isn't it?
As many of us fall to our knees this morning to thank the good Lord for all our blessings (read: The shopping is OVER!) perhaps a dose of reality-based, 50-cent therapy will help us along through the day, avoiding international incidents.
Harken back to those simple rules that your mother gave you when you were in elementary school. They're the best, especially around relatives, like your mother.
1. If you can't say something nice, don't say anything. I know, it may cut down on the number of things you can talk about, but everybody knows the turkey is dry. Get over it. Compliment Mom on all her effort, just as she did for you when you brought home drawings from school that made no sense. That's what love should drive you to - excessive praise.
2. What Peter says about Paul says more about Peter than Paul. Keep gossip out of the holiday and you'll avoid touchy confrontations. If you wouldn't say it to Uncle Joe's face, you probably shouldn't say it at all.
3. Keep your manners. Just because you're related doesn't mean you can't show off how polite you can be. If we treated our families like we treat strangers in an elevator, we might avoid a scene now and then.
4. Everything in moderation. A little too much of the wine and the whining will begin.
5. Let it go. Whatever your stupid cousin said, whatever you said last year that started that fight, whatever you think you should have said - let it go. Hand out cards this year that tell your family members that whatever crap they've done this year, you forgive them, and ask that they do the same.
I've come to realize that the absolute best memories I have of Christmas revolve around the rituals and the conspiracy of magic surrounding the holiday. That continues to do my heart good and is the very best part of the holiday.
I was in the hobby store at University Mall the other day, buying a chess set. My son was with me, and I didn't want him to see that I was getting it. The employee who helped me connected the dots immediately and with a minimum of words, spoken in Christmas code, we arranged for her to get another set from the back room, bring it to behind the register and not have anyone see what I was buying.
When I was a kid, my parents had a sort of mutual deal with our neighbors. If one of their kids was getting a bike for Christmas, it would be in our garage until Christmas Eve (under contract with the North Pole, of course).
It wasn't until years later that I figured out that if I wanted to know what I was getting for Christmas, I should have been be searching the Sullivans' garage, not my own.
Likewise, my father kept tons of presents in the trunk of his full-size car. There I was, driving the car around myself, not realizing that I literally held the key to sneaking a peek.
One year, I did catch a peek of what I was getting. I tiptoed into my mother's room and found in her closet a record player I had begged for. I was thrilled - for about 30 seconds. Then I started to feel just awful about having spoiled the surprise. Just remembering that feels like it was yesterday.
In longing for the things of my childhood Christmases, I find that I'm wishing for the things that cost next to nothing. Shampoo in a champagne bottle, fuzzy slippers, candy and the rituals of reading "'Twas the Night Before Christmas," followed by the tossing and turning and wishes upon wishes.
I always did wish for Peace on Earth, for less fighting, for soldiers to come home safe to their families.
This year, my nephew is one of those soldiers, serving in Saudi Arabia this Christmas Day. In Eric's honor, our turkey will be dry today and we'll wish above all other wishes that he comes home on schedule and in one piece in just a few more weeks.
Meanwhile, we'll have some pie, watch some old movies and try to kick back and relax. After all, the tax packages are in the mail and everyone's favorite Uncle (Sam) will be reminding us to keep in touch in just a day or two.
Now that's a gift I'd dearly love to return unopened.
Readers may e-mail Jean Bolduc at jean@penandinc.com or write her in care of The Chapel Hill Herald, 106 Mallette St., Chapel Hill, NC 27516.