Good councilors gone

It was with sadness that the news of two Standish Councilors’ resignations hit our desks here at the paper this week. Gene Nesbitt and Gerry Spencer, two devoted townspeople who had devoted many hours to the people of Standish, had to leave the council for health and family reasons. Sad to see you go.

For those who know Gerry, he is a big guy with an equally big heart. And that came through more than once in his time on council. One particular fight he attempted and lost was trying to get tax relief, based on the Maine Circuit Breaker program and a similar Yarmouth program, that would have brought needed tax relief to elderly fixed income property owners who are faced with rising property taxes and no way to pay them except by selling their family homes. He saw the need and did what he could to ease their pain. It failed, but in the mere act of trying, he succeeded.

Here’s praying that your health quickly improves, Gerry.

Gene Nesbitt, too, was a councilor with passion. He was a very sincere and thoughtful man who took the point position on arsenic a few years ago as well as public safety. He was a staunch advocate for citizen safety and he saw his seat on the Standish council as a way to improve the lives of others. And he did.

This reporter remembers Gene and his lengthy explanations of almost everything, on the council bench and in phone interviews. He’d explain things well. And, for reporters, that’s all we can ask for in a councilor.

But Gene was no politician. In Standish, he sought to better the lives of others because he was motivated to make the town better. But Standish’s loss is Mansfield, Connecticut’s gain. “Nesbitt for Mansfield Town Council, 2006.”

Wishing for open officials

Unlike the previously referred to Gene Nesbitt in Standish, who would explain things to reporters as best he could without hesitation, results of a school story in Windham this week has led us to the conclusion that some school administrators in Windham are reluctant to give out any information about school matters, even on issues that end up to be pretty silly.

In a page one story, we read that a boy ran for and was elected Homecoming Queen. But he, along with a committee of event organizers and advisors, decided to switch the title from “King and Queen” to the more genderless “Monarch.” The title change makes sense, and since the boy was part of the committee that switched the name, no harm and no foul was committed against the “boy who would be queen.”

But administrators were quick to clamp down on the story. Rumors abounded that the boy was voted queen and that the school had changed it to monarch to please conservative parents vocalizing objections. If administrators had been the ones to institute the name change, a cover-up would be understandable, especially in this age of gender tension. But the name change came from the boy himself, so why the reluctance to tell the public what happened? Administrators should know that rumors grow when the truth doesn’t shine. We were asking for the truth. And the truth, eventually gained through other sources, ended up being both understandable and disarming. And the truth made the school’s entrenched reluctance to talk a little silly.

To his credit, Superintendent Sandy Prince tried to get us some information and he tried consulting with the high school principal. However, Principal Deb McAfee, was unwilling to share any news about how the title “monarchs” came to be, citing privacy concerns. What privacy concerns? She was also unwilling to give the names of the kids elected to the Homecoming Court in the other classes. Where’s the harm? What’s so secretive about a Homecoming ballot? Their reluctance to talk about these matters seems a little silly.

There is a Right to Know law in Maine. There is the freedom of speech and freedom of the press. Public schools are public. What happens there is of public concern. And school officials are in the employ of the public. Newspapers are a good way to get local information, and if the school is loath to talk to reporters about matters of public concern, especially ones where rumors can be effectively quelled, then Windham is in a sad way.

When my birthday comes around again, I know what I’m going to ask for. First, of course, will be a 1960s vintage Volkswagen (hippie) Bus. But my second wish, since I’ll deserve one by then, will be public officials who tell the public what is going on without hesitation. Open, just like Gene Nesbitt was.