Article Contributed on: 3/1/2006 10:28:36 AM
You read 16 books . . . what do you get?
Another day older and deeper in debt
Saint Peter don't you call me 'cause I can't go
I owe my soul to PERA.
An excellent, recent article by Tina Griego about Manual High School seems even more dramatic to me when I connect the dots with David Milstead's revelation of Colorado's per capita, hidden debt of nearly $2,800 unfunded liabilities at PERA. Since it is our children who will be paying this debt off, you can double the number and assume each current school child has accumulated a debt of $5,600 before they even graduate from high school and start borrowing for college.
All of this reminds me of a story from my management consulting days. A new school superintendent arrives as the recently severed one is cleaning out his desk. The now jobless 'super' informs the new guy that he doesn't have time to brief him but has filled out three envelopes and left them in the top desk drawer. The instructions are to open a letter whenever he encounters a truly impossible situation. After the usual honeymoon period the new superintendent is being beaten up by the board, teachers and the public, so he opens the first letter. It says, /"Install a New Computer"/. He goes to the Board, discusses the old technology and a huge consulting contract is let. Two years later, CSAP scores have not improved and the situation is once again bleak. Desperate, he consults the oracle in his desk and opens the second envelope. Envelope #2 says, "/Reorganize and Implement Performance-Based Pay/". At the next board meeting he unveils his multi-year plan to sell the teachers on a new organization structure and compensation package. Three years later he has been there five years and the situation is still FUBAR. Late one night, sitting at his desk, getting ready for an emergency board meeting and scheduled for the next day, he opens the desk drawer and, hands shaking, reaches for the last envelope. He knows this is the final advice he can expect from his predecessor, whose Alfred E. Neuman, "What, Me Worry?" smile blesses him from the oil painting now on his office wall. He rips opens the envelop. It says, "/Make-Out Three Envelopes".
/It is truly a shame that generation after generation of children are sacrificed on the altar of hubris. /