Club Ed?

I know. I shouldn’t let it get to me.

Most of you know that I last lived in Greensboro and my mom calls it home still. When I visit her at her downtown condominium, I invariably stroll the Elm Street sidewalks and stop at one of the many newspaper stands to pick up whatever is free--Auto Trader, Apartment Finder, Boomer. They have it all.

Last Sunday, I found myself reading Carolina Journal. I think it is a spin-off of the right-leaning Rhino Times. I wish I had never seen the Carolina Journal. I wish in particular I had not read an article in the Education section by writer, David N. Bass, Associate Editor. Here’s the title that caught my eye:

“GOP Budget Plan Would Close Plush ‘Club Ed’ Training Center.”

To what NC “training center” was Mr. Bass referring, I wondered. I’ve been in the professional learning business for quite sometime but I’d never encountered such a place, especially in my home state.

As you may infer, “Club Ed” is a not-so-obvious reference to Club Med of jet-set fame. I soon learned, however, that the writer was describing the North Carolina Center for the Advancement of Teaching, NCCAT, the same facility where as a SERVE program director, I annually convened the Southeastern State Teachers of the Year Advisory Committee.

So I’ve been to the Cullowhee, NC facility many times. In my ignorance, however, I never realized that my sans-TV, single-bulb-lamp, twin-bed, bring-your-own-linens accommodations were as elegant as they now seem to be. It is true, however, that each room had its own bathroom--with a shower. The extravagance. The horror.

The other thing you should know is that NCCAT, brainchild of Governor James B. Hunt, serves the professional development needs of over 5,000 teachers annually. Typically delivered in five-day sessions, the learning focuses on artistic, cultural, and historical topics including among others pottery, global warming, and holistic health.

As it turns out, some members of the NC General Assembly want to cut from the budget what Mr. Bass calls “lavish accommodations” featuring “rambling stone buildings, and finely manicured landscaping [that] could be mistaken for a upscale mountain retreat.”

Mr. Bass writes that NCCAT boasts “an idyllic lake, nature trails, and gardens complete with picnic tables, benches, and fountains.” It has a “computer lab, indoor amphitheater, library, a health and wellness facility, and an extensive art collection.” Meals are also served “in a multilevel dining room that looks out on the gently rolling Appalachian Mountains.”

Well, that’s true. In fact, all these things are all true. The other thing I remember is that the teachers from Alabama, Florida, Georgia, Mississippi, and South Carolina were all envious of what North Carolina had in NCCAT. North Carolina has been the envy of southeastern states in more ways than one. But I fear we may be poised to experience a self-inflicted wound, recovery from which will be long in the making.

What, I would ask Mr. Bass, do our public school teachers deserve? Would pup tents and beef jerky be the sort of reward for the work we ritualistically implore high school students to take up in the cause of common schooling for a democratic society? What exactly is your vision of public education and professional learning, Mr. Bass?

Folks, I could go on and on with this topic. But I cannot apologize for valuing our public school teachers and suggesting that eliminating funding for NCCAT is so ill-advised, it is not even funny. NCCAT is symbolic of all that is good, decent, and frankly, sane, about recognizing teaching and teachers as the economic driver of our economy that it is.

Whether you are a business person or an educator, you should be concerned about this ill-advised proposal from where-ever it comes. Speak up or sit down. There’s no in between. “Club Ed,” no, but it should be and we should be standing in line to fund it.