No, we're not anti-teacher or pro-Scricca

We're working hard at the News-Review to come to terms with new technologies and figure out how to best use them in news gathering and reporting. We've enhanced the Web site in some ways already, but later this year we'll be launching a completely new site ¬­-- now in development -- that will be much more powerful, more interactive, and easier and more fun to use.

Among the enhancements we've made to our existing site is the ability of site users to comment on stories. This is supposed to help get a dialogue going in the community and (I think) improve communication between readers/users and the newspaper staff.

"Experts" tell us we (at the paper) should respond to people's comments online. We haven't done that yet. Lack of time is probably one reason why not. But as reporters and editors, we don't much like the idea of getting into debates with people about the issues we cover. Reporters of course have opinions about the subjects of the stories they write. But generally, they're supposed to keep those opinions to themselves. That's tough in the community newspaper business, where newspaper editors often double as reporters. We don't have editorial departments per se, so editors can't avoid writing editorials and opinion columns. It can get tricky. We have to be very careful about not letting our opinions seep into our news reports. Most of the time, I think, we do OK.

In spite of our sensitivity to such matters and redoubling our efforts to make sure we play news items down the middle -- especially if it's something we've opined about on the commentary pages -- people are cynical. Indeed, their level of cynicism sometimes amazes me. When people are passionate about a point of view, they tend to forget that reasonable people can, in fact, disagree.

Our editorials the past two weeks -- and the comments made about them on our Web site -- illustrate this point. (Though I should point out that in the case of education coverage, the reporter, Tim Gannon, never writes editorials, and the editors never do any reporting.) We published editorials on the proposed school budget and school board candidates. In them, we disagreed with some of the opinions expressed by the teachers' union.

"This paper seems to have fallen under Scricca's spell," wrote one anonymous poster on our site.

"Is Dr. Scricca writing these editorials herself? With the half truths that have been written in these last two editorials, it seems so. She definitely has someone's ear at the News-Review," wrote another, also anonymously.

Nobody, anywhere, has anyone at the News-Review under any spell. And certainly no one but us is writing our editorials. No one but our staff ever even sees them before publication.

Can't reasonable people disagree? And can't disagreement be expressed and debate undertaken without people smearing those who express opposing points of view?

I'm afraid the mode of communication on the Internet, with the proliferation of anonymous messages like this on Web sites, has debased public discourse -- even more than the 24-hour cable "news" networks had already done with their endless, mind-numbing offerings of people shouting at one another about this or that. That, to my mind, is a very unfortunate result of this new communication technology. When people don't have to take responsibility for what they say by putting their name to it, people will say all kinds of things. That's why we don't publish anonymous letters in our newspaper. And, although our editorials are not "signed," they are written by editor Michael White or me, or, more often, by both of us in collaboration.

For the record, I think the superintendent seems earnest, hardworking and smart. She seems to be doing a pretty good job in a tough situation. That doesn't make me anti-teacher or even insensitive to their plight. My children have had some truly wonderful, amazing and dedicated teachers in the Riverhead school district. And some of them have used their classroom as a soapbox for espousing opinions about their contracts, the administration and the school board. One of them recently complained in class that my daughter's mother's newspaper was "anti-teacher." That kind of thing is just plain inappropriate. Nobody should be pulling our kids into the union-administration tug of war -- even if the kid happens to be the daughter of the newspaper publisher.

Call me idealistic, but I'd like to see the administration, teachers and parents all work together toward the common goal of giving our children the best education we possibly can, within our district's financial means. There's been way too much "politics" for way too long in the Riverhead school district -- to the point of dysfunction. And in that kind of situation, the best interests of the kids can get lost in the shuffle.

Oh, for the love of Vinny

Vinny Nasta, artist and educator who died this week in a plane crash at age 46 (see stories at riverheadnewsreview.com), is gone from this life far too soon, but he continues to teach, inspire and make people love, laugh and learn

I knew Vinny for many years, though not very well. Back when, as director of the East End Arts Council, I dealt with Vinny when he'd mount at least one exhibit of student work in our gallery every year. Deal with him but once, and you knew how deeply he cared for his pupils. They were more than pupils to Vinny. And he was more than a teacher to them.

This week, as I read through messages posted on the wall of a Facebook group created in his memory, and interviewed students and former students of this affable, fun-loving and passionate man, I encountered the same statements over and over again. It was almost eerie, as if they were all reading from the same script -- a testament to the breadth and depth of his commitment to youth and his passion for teaching.

From the teens in Riverhead, to the college students and the alumni artists, photographers and businessmen and women across the country and across the globe, their voices were one:

He was more than a teacher to me. He was one of my best friends. He was like my big brother. He was like my father. He made me believe in myself. He encouraged me more than anyone. He made me understand that I could accomplish something. I wouldn't have gone to college if it weren't for Mr. Nasta. I wouldn't be an artist today if it weren't for Mr. Nasta. He understood me. He cared about me. He cared about everyone. He would do anything for anyone. He was always there for me. He listened. He cared. He cared. He cared.

The intensity and the depth of love and grief that poured forth this week from the young people whose lives Vinny Nasta touched over the past 17 years at Riverhead High School was one of the most startling and moving things I've ever experienced as a journalist.

Their love for this man and the pain they felt at his untimely passing united them, and "the thing Mr. Nasta loved" -- as Erika Haas, the Riverhead High School junior who started the Facebook site in his memory, put it -- technology, gave them the means by which to come together to express that love and pain.

"I thought it was only fitting," Erika answered when I asked what made her set up the Facebook site, "to use the thing Mr, Nasta loved, technology, to create a memorial to him."

She set it up Monday morning, and by time the Duchess County Sheriff's Office, later that morning, officially released the name of the pilot killed at the Old Rhinebeck Aerodrome on Sunday afternoon, the "In Loving Memory of Vincent Nasta" Facebook group had more than four dozen members. Its numbers steadily climbed throughout the day Monday and Tuesday. As I write this Wednesday morning, it's 371 people strong, and growing still. Its members are almost all Riverhead students and alumni, representing almost every graduating class between 1995 and 2010, every class touched by Vinny Nasta. While most were students in his classes, not all had that honor. You didn't have to be one of his students to be one of his kids -- another oft-repeated refrain of the people who knew Vinny best, his kids.

Vinny's room was a place of refuge as well as learning, a haven where kids who might not otherwise have found their way through adolescence could "chill with Nasty." It was a place where they could belong, share their feelings, express their fears, laugh out loud, and feel good about themselves. Vinny's room was a place where kids dared to dream, and learned to soar.

"Fly high, Nasta," wrote Riverhead alum Sean Rachubka, "fly high."

The halls of Riverhead High School will be a little darker without Vinny Nasta's bright smile and warm presence, but, as his friend and colleague Frank Yolanga wrote, "Heaven just got a little bit brighter."

Copyright 2008 Times/Review Newspapers

"What do you make?"

A News-Review reader emailed this to me yesterday. There's been some debate on our commentary pages recently about whether public school teachers are paid too much.

WHAT TEACHERS MAKE

The dinner guests were sitting around the table discussing life. One man, a CEO, decided to explain the problem with education. He argued, "What's a kid going to learn from someone who decided his best option in life was to become a teacher?" He reminded the other dinner guests what they say about teachers: "Those who can, do. Those who can't, teach." To stress his point he said to another guest; "You're a teacher, Bonnie. Be honest. What do you make?"

Bonnie, who had a reputation for honesty and frankness replied, "You Want to know what I make? (She paused for a second, then began...)
"Well, I make kids work harder than they ever thought they could.
I make a C+ feel like the Congressional Medal of Honor.
I make kids sit through 40 minutes of class time when their parents can't make them sit for 5 without an I Pod, Game Cube or movie rental...

You want to know what I make?" (She paused again and looked at each and every person at the table.)
I make kids wonder.
I make them question.
I make them criticize.
I make them apologize and mean it.
I make them have respect and take responsibility for their actions.
I teach them to write and then I make them write.
I make them read, read, read.
I make them show all their work in math.
I make my students from other countries learn everything they need to know in English while preserving their unique cultural identity.
I make my classroom a place where all my students feel safe.
I make my students stand to say the Pledge of Allegiance to the Flag, because we live in the United States of America.

Finally, I make them understand that if they use the gifts they were given, work hard, and follow their hearts, they can succeed in life. (Bonnie paused one last time and then continued.) "Then, when people try to judge me by what I make, I can hold my head up high and pay no attention because they are ignorant... You want to know what I make?
I MAKE A DIFFERENCE. What do you make?