Looking back on history, bullies have always been a
nuisance. From the guys who killed Jesus to some German cartographer who
decided the Northern Hemisphere is more important and should therefore be on
the top of the map. If you close your eyes and think of the Earth you picture
North America on top, don’t you? Well, is it really? Or, when satellites send
pictures back, do we flip them around because they’re upside down? North and
South don’t mean anything in space.
But it does make a difference down here. And if your
continent has always been portrayed as the bottom half, that can certainly have
an influence on the way you see the world. I mean, we’re talking about
generations and generations of people led to believe that their land is beneath
the Land of Opportunity. But is it? Or have they simply been oppressed into believing
that they are the developing world. Just like here in the Roaring Fork valley,
where we all know that ‘down valley’ implies much more than the slope of the
ground.
If there’s one thing that really gets my goat, it’s a bully.
(Just in case you’re not familiar with the phrase, it means to rile someone up;
to get one’s attention. Like the time my godfather drove over with a billy goat
in the back of his truck to leave it in my dad’s kitchen as a birthday
present/prank. Needless to say, his goat was gotten.)
Bullies don’t seem to last in Carbondale. This community is
open and accessible, but if a bully doesn’t leave of his own accord the old-timers
get together and form a posse to run him out of town –just kidding! (Sort of.) Carbondale
is definitely a juxt-a-pose town, but it’s all about connection. Just go to a
parade; you’ll see a cowboy standing next to a punk, and a hippy sharing his candy
with a veteran. Everyone fits in, and there’s a true sense of security that
isn’t found everywhere in the world. We’re lucky; we’re the real deal when it
comes to community, which is why I’m having a hard time with Colorado Rocky Mountain
School wanting to close their campus.
After a generous start with the donation of a local ranch,
and with a mission to give “our students the skills, confidence, and knowledge
to be successful in life and to contribute to their communities”* I have to
wonder why they are petitioning Garfield County to vacate pedestrian and
bicycle access on County Road 106. CRMS claims it is simply to reassure parents
that their children will be safe, but the children are safe— safer than in places
with fences, guards, and gates I would say.
I do not understand why CRMS keeps building up their campus
on, and around, a county road if they don’t want the county to be allowed on
campus. Or why they think tuition dollars should take precedence over a public
right-of-way (not to mention the safety of younger children who ride their
bikes through CRMS to get to the Community School and avoid the traffic on
Highway 133.)
Honestly, I don’t think CRMS students have anything to fear by
bumping into us on their campus; the Boo Radleys of unincorporated Garfield
County riding our bikes by moonlight. I’m the kind of person who likes to call
a spade a goddamn shovel, and this land belongs to the people of Garfield
County. I mean, if the commissioners are gonna start giving away acres of land
sign me up!
Closing the campus sends a message of privilege, not
participation to the community. Besides, all those extra eyes and ears are an
added measure of security; trust me— there are some real Nosy-Rosies around here!
This expedited petition by the school’s board of directors feels more like a
grab for lunch money than an act of stewardship.
In the past, it seems, the one with the money got to draw
the map, but this map’s already been drawn. We all live here because we feel
safe and secure enough to be ourselves. And because we look out for our
neighbors from all walks of life, which is exactly what it takes to be a community.
*http://www.crms.org/about/
