Page 4 - May 18, 2017

Editorial
Time to clear the
smoke on rural
school closures
Bob Bailey is right; the province says it wants to talk to you about rural schools, but their public forums are likely to be little less than smoke and mirrors.
e Ministry of Education will host a forum in ed- ford next week to “discuss and share ideas about how to best address the unique needs and challenges that rural and remote communities face.”
Even though successive Liberal governments have been shutting down rural schools since the 1990s, the province has recently faced criticism on the issue likely because of a report which pointed out 600 schools across the province were headed for closure because of the province’s funding rules. e province disagrees. It says only 300 will close.
So, with an election just one year away, it was time
for the government to take action - they did what they could do - consult. Let’s be serious. A er a decade of tinkering with funding formulas to make sure urban ar- eas get what they need and ignoring the constant cries from rural communities losing their only school, is the province really ready to listen to what rural people have to say? We doubt it.
e suggestions the Liberals are already sending out about multiple school boards using one building and remote learning will become an election platform. And nothing will change.
Sarnia Lambton MPP Bob Bailey - usually an opti- mistic guy - doubts the province will listen and make changes. But he still wants you to go to a forum he dubs as mostly “smoke and mirrors” on the odd chance the government is actually listening. He’s right on that ac- count, too.
Go. Tell the government what it will mean to you to lose your local school. Bear witness to what the govern- ment is doing to rural Ontario. It may be the only thing we can do until Election Day.
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Page 4
The Independent
Thursday, May 18, 2017
Our Story
Students at Petrolia’s Central School on Green eld Street posed for a group photo. O cials from Petrolia Heritage believe this group likely a ended the school in 1910. The school is long gone, although a stone bearing its name is s ll
on the land where an apartment building now stands.
Petrolia Heritage Photo
ZimZam! In a ash, I return to my childhood
Heather Wright
There are a few things in life that can bring you back to childhood in an instant - a song, a root beer oat, a trip to your old school.
a tennis ball using a couple of plastic paddles. The goal of the game is to drive the ball on the string up or down a coil at the top of the pole. The rst one to make it to their end (top or bottom) wins.
thump, thump of the tennis ball hitting the paddles.
I was transported back in time this week with a glimpse of a box in a window.
Sounds simple, but it is not as easy as it looks. It requires some coordination, a lot of determination and time, the later of which we had tons of in the summers of my youth.
My brothers played occasionally as well, using the paddles like a baseball bat. Their roundhouse swings hurt more than one person and I believe sent the ball ying into the lake.
As I was out walking Janice the Dog, a black box in a store window caught my eye. We stopped and instantly I was on the shores of Lake Huron on a sunny summer afternoon with two of my best summer buddies, Renee and Carol.
Renee’s family brought the magical game from the United States when
we were in our early teens. We had
to nd a grassy spot in rocky land to plant the pole and soon we caught on to the game. Even though we knew how to play, there were usually gales of giggles as we missed the ball, got wrapped up in the string or got beaned in the head.
“ZimZam!” I said to no one in particular as I stared at the window. The store was closed so I couldn’t
I bought the ZimZam in the window and have already spent hours playing it with my children. Carol learned of the game and wants one, too. I’ll pick it up for her and drive down to relive those summer time memories which become all so fresh when I hold the ZimZam racket in my hand.
go in and buy the black box, but memories came ooding back to me as we continued down the street.
ZimZam, as my husband, Barry, will tell you, is a game without a great purpose. But oh the fun we had!
Renee, Carol and I would spend hours playing - much to the chagrin of anyone listening to the constant thump,
ZimZam is basically tetherball with
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