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Thanks to Annette Werner for sharing the following testimony:
Annette Werner
Recent Developments
Public Hearing
June 25, 2012
4 years ago today, the Board voted to close Schenley High School.
But there is unfinished business.
EPR reported recently that the percentage of asbestos in the Schenley plaster is only .25 - .5%.
Under EPA guidelines, plaster is "Asbestos Containing Material" ("ACM") subject to regulation only if it contains 1% or more asbestos. As a result, if the EPR report is true, work involving plaster at Schenley can be done without costly asbestos abatement contractors present.
What are the practical implications of these developments? For one, if the EPR report is correct, the vote to close Schenley was based on inaccurate information about the level of asbestos, the risks, and the costs of maintenance. That vote should be revisited.
Another implication is that PPS has paid for, and most likely continues to pay for, unnecessary abatement contractors. Those practices need to be reviewed.
Other implications involve the proposed sale of the building. How likely is it that PPS will get the best price for the building, if in connection with Schenley potential buyers have mainly heard "asbestos, asbestos, asbestos"? Marketing efforts made so far need to be reconsidered.
And finally, as I pointed out previously, the Schenley athletic facilities are free of asbestos. Due to 6-12 school configurations, students in the East End face a serious shortage of practice space that could be greatly eased by retaining the Schenley building and at this time making at least the athletic facilities available for students. As a matter of equity, for how long can we leave high school students at Milliones with facilities that are obviously inferior to those at Allderdice, Brashear and Carrick? New pool and gym complexes cost $20M or more.
As for the rest of the building, eventually it will become necessary to spend money renovating an East End High School. Peabody's last benefit from major renovation was reportedly done more than 30 years ago. When the time comes to renovate an East End high School, the best decision may well be to sell Peabody and renovate Schenley. Why not preserve this option and let future Board members and East End families make the decision for themselves, while in the meantime allowing students to benefit from the Schenley sports facilities? The pros and cons of a sale of the Schenley building at this time need to be clearly laid out for review and input by the public and discussion by the Board.
ATTACHMENT- Why might we want to preserve the Schenley option?
What have we gained? Time is needed for evaluation. There is a real question as to whether even a majority of the students who started at Sci Tech in grade 9 will graduate from Sci Tech next year. Many, many students have left the school. How many IB diplomas were earned at Obama this year? Typical at Schenley before the program was moved was 20+ a year. Is achievement for Hill feeder students at Milliones any better than it was for Hill feeder students at Schenley? Will efforts to get a handle on problems at Milliones be successful? Would students behave better if they were happier? Could initiatives to reduce achievement disparities have been carried out under the Schenley umbrella?
What have we lost?
The only PPS high school with 100% enrollment. Hill feeder students have lost a diverse school environment and many of the sports and activities they enjoyed at Schenley.
See also "Why we fight for Schenley," dated June 25, 2008, below.
It's a unique meeting place of cultures where high school doesn't seem like high school
By Jake Oresick
Last fall, the superintendent's office stepped on a hornet's nest when it proposed the end of historic Schenley High School. While I won't address the achievement gap
or renovation costs -- wonks on both sides have debated these to death -- I'd like to explain, or try to, the zealotry with which we're dealing.
Jake Oresick graduated from Schenley High School in 2001 and
lives in Highland Park (jake.oresick@gmail.com).
I'd like to explain the indignation and the ire and general outrage. I'd like to rationalize the deluge of phone calls and e-mails to board members. I'd like to tell
observers -- those uninvolved, unsympathetic budgeteers thinking, What are these people on? -- why this high school matters and why we will not quit. I will try to quantify all we're losing.
Of course, there are tangible losses if we pull the plug on Schenley: an impossibly diverse student body; an innovative, energized faculty that corresponds to that diversity;
a world-class ballet co-op and a legendary theatre program under one triangular roof. It's also the flagship institution of the Pittsburgh Public School district, nestled in the city's research corridor of universities, hospitals and libraries. But all of
the protests, the op-eds and the unchecked emotion is about more than that.
It's about the tolerance cultivated when an Israeli-born born history instructor presents a cogent, calculated rationale for Palestinian statehood. It's about the social
barriers collapsed when a senior class elects a mentally handicapped student prom queen. It's about the accident of young people connecting -- the popular with the petrified, gays with gangsters, Cranberry Township with the Crawford Square projects -- and
never ever being the same again.
The collective Schenley tantrum incurred by the board of education was certainly about Superintendent Mark Roosevelt and reform, but it was also about identity: the
sense of self and belonging and shared success from Schenley's improbable experiment.
To outsiders flummoxed by our devotion, you have my sympathies. We're a dynamic, impassioned and at-times excruciating group. But we love our school. When unwitting
alumni discover each other -- in Carson Street bars or frenetic New York subway cars -- we greet like family, like we're long-lost members of some cosmic fraternity. It's all really kind of bizarre, and wonderful.
To Schenley students, parents and alumni, I remind you that we're not normal. It's true: Most people don't like high school. Most people didn't like it at the time,they
don't like thinking about it now, and they certainly don't gush to disinterested college classmates and co-workers (or the Post-Gazette's editorial audience). Gene Kelly Awards, state basketball titles and a catalog of famous grads aren't subjects by which
everyone is spellbound.
But there's a lot about our alma mater we want everyone to understand.
Whether or not this is the end, we want people to realize that Schenley is exceptional for having defied every traditional paradigm. It transformed the racial chasms
of the post-Brown era into a veritable model of socio-economic and cultural fusion. It nurtured and exalted the arts at a time when other school districts eliminated them.
But its most remarkable trait, and the biggest reason for the visceral response to its demise, was the way people treated each other. For all of the high school horror
stories about gangs and gossip, the Mean Girls cafeteria scene was an anomaly to us. Tina Fey's tongue-in-cheek critique of cliquish cruelty and social divisions -- burnouts, band geeks, hip jocks and burgeoning debs at strictly separate lunch tables -- was
the teen how-to movie we forgot to see. We all just sort of sat together.
It's a high school, but it's not just a high school, and we're throwing a fit because we feel misled. We're fighting back like Spartans at Thermopylae because we resent
the district's if-it-ain't-broke-break-it approach to its most unique institution. We're shouting at no one over all we're losing.
That's a school that, for all its faults, offers an oddly familial environment -- a buffer between parents and hormones and the other atrocities of adolescence -- and
a wonderfully eclectic peer group who genuinely care for each other. A place where people from different neighborhoods, religious backgrounds, economic strata and, in many cases, different continents, live and learn and figure out life together.
That, really, is all we're losing.