CCHS / HN: The Bottom Line

Typically the bottom line refers to a company’s overall profitability. Whether or not Holy Name’s ‘Save the Money, Save the Name’ debate continues to aim at impacting the Allentown Diocese’s bottom line, as individual Catholics we each have a bottom line to answer to that transcends the in-fighting developing on either side of Reading, PA’s Schuylkill River.

What would Jesus do?

It seems that Christians are fond of throwing this catch phrase around when the answer is clear and on their side. Murder is bad. Larceny is bad. Abuse is bad. Jesus would never approve of these things, so it’s easy for us to also agree because these are obvious crimes against others not to mention punishable by law.

But what about the HN argument against becoming Berks Catholic? WWJD?

Forget the issue about money. Forget the need for new uniforms and signage. Forget about the donors who don’t want to tithe or support Berks Catholic. Forget about badmouthing HN supporters. Forget about blaming the diocese for making this decision, poor execution and communication of it.

WWJD?

God is our ultimate judge. When our judgment day arrives and we’re standing in front of the pearly gates, is God going to care that we preserved Holy Name’s moniker to save a few thousand dollars? Or will we be judged on making sacrifices for the continuation of Catholic education, teaching children that compromise is painful at times but survivable, and, most importantly, to love, support and understand one another? God is neither a HN or CCHS fan (shocking, I know); He is a fan of humanity.

WWJD? What would you do?

(Update: Last Thursday members of both CCHS and HN student governments met at HN. I’m proud of both groups for setting aside their differences and fears in an effort to create unity and peace as both schools merge and move forward as Berks Catholic. For the full story, check out the Reading Eagle online.)

Hope in Tragedy

I'll keep today's post brief. My heart aches for the individuals and families in Japan and around the Pacific who were affected by the tsunami--so much destruction, so much devastation. May they get the help they need and may they see light through the darkness enveloping their world right now.

I'm a firm believer in the notion that everything happens for a reason. The good and bad in life deepen our understanding of existence and offer us important opportunities to grow intellectually, emotionally and spiritually. A friend forwarded the link below and I wanted to share it in case others might find solace in it. "Everything Happens for a Reason."

Finding hope amid tragedy is like looking for a needle in a haystack. It's virtually impossible unless we remain determined and motivated by even the slightest iota of a positive outlook. Sharing hope through one's words or actions--no matter how big or small--is contagious. May we each find the "good" in every day and when we're lost in our own tragedies, may we be blessed with an angel or a friend who can be our beacon.

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By: Me (Andrea Kohalmi) - Rainbow over Kuhio Beach / Waikiki, O'ahu, HI (November 2010). The tsunami washed onto this beach early this morning. Thankfully, no one was injured here. Natural catastrophes like this serve as a reminder of what's important. Democrats, Republicans, men, women, rich, poor--none of this matters on days like today. We're all human. We're all equal. Life is precious.

A Tear (CCHS & Life on a Personal Note)

(Taking a break today from the Berks Catholic posts to reflect on a more personal aspect of it.)

Death is a part of life. We all know that. We all expect that.

Death comes in many ways. From the end of an era to the passing of someone close to you, it closes one chapter in your life and begins another. Having lost many friends and family and survived life’s unexpected and tasking challenges so far, two of the most important lessons I’ve learned are that time doesn’t necessarily heal the pain and one can never forget. Then again, these aren’t always bad things.

After about a week or two, news of my cherished high school’s closure finally sunk in over the past couple of days. Today I found out that the individual dreams and aspirations of several old friends of mine came to an end. And, this afternoon the last of my childhood pets passed away.

When trying to offer solace, I often find myself saying, “It could be worse.” Applying that logic to my own circumstances, my thoughts can easily conjure a hundred more desperate and sad scenarios. After all, it’s only a school and a pet. I could’ve lost my home and a person, right?

You see, my alma mater and dog (Lexie) are tied together, symbolically anyway. My family got Lexie when I was in high school (yes, she had a very nice, super-long life). The point is that within one week I’ve lost two important pieces of my past. Figuratively, high school is a place where we transition from childhood to adulthood; literally, the building is our home away from home during our teen years. Whether we like it or not, the CCHS teachers and administration were very much a part of our extended families. Lexie was a member of my family and the spoiled baby at that. Just like school provided us an escape from our personal troubles at home, Lexie was my family’s silent therapist as she would always be willing to console and play with us.

Digging deeper, it’s important to note that I’m not just living in the past or dreaming of better days gone by—because they certainly weren’t better. I love my family and life today. The thing is that seven years ago my husband and I made a decision for our new family that physically severed the ties to our pasts.

When we moved to California, we left behind our individual families, our friends, the home we created as well as our childhood homes, the familiarity of our hometown, and all the places that meant something to us—Gring’s Mill and Lausch Parks where we used to go for walks and just muse about life and music, CCHS Stadium (the place where we fell in love over football season ’93), Berkshire Mall (the only place we could really go to hang out when we were teens), Arby’s @ Fairgrounds (Jeff’s 1st job), Boscov’s East (my 1st job), the list is endless.
California was a fresh start and was a dream come true since we finally got out of Reading—something we always wanted. Seven years later (and it didn’t even take this long to figure it out), Reading had everything we wanted for our family (except viable jobs for us—a big issue, yes). Most importantly, it was an inextricable part of our joint histories.

As I’m constantly reminded by native Californians, what’s not to like here? Quite frankly, nothing! It’s breathtakingly beautiful, there are hiking trails a-plenty, wine country is in our backyard, and within a few hours you can be in the desert, mountains, or ocean. Though our “new” friends are few; they’re wonderful. Our life is everything we always dreamt of, but it’s not home. Why? Because our families are “home.” And home isn’t here; it’s 3,000 miles eastward.

Living so far away we’ve missed the most important days of our family and friends’ lives—graduations, weddings, births, baptisms, funerals, family reunions, class reunions, holidays, and just hanging out with them—going to a concert or two, having a glass of wine over a great conversation, and offering a physical shoulder to cry on when it’s needed most. As our parents get older and siblings lives’ evolve, we’re not there to help them. Our children are growing up fast and their grandparents, aunts, uncles, and cousins are missing out on valuable time with them.

With CCHS’ closure in a matter of months and Lexie gone, two important pieces of my childhood history will have died. Yes, life will go on; it always does. And great memories help me cope. And yet, even if just for one moment, I’d love to walk the halls of Central and hug Lexie one last time to say goodbye to them and to an era.

Cherish every second of today for tomorrow it may be too late…

(It's a) Holy Shame

A civil war is brewing in the Catholic school community between my high school alma mater and its arch-rival-yet-soon-to-be-new-home. Three thousand miles away from the action, I’m just now starting to catch up with the storm that’s overshadowed my hometown for the past couple of months.

Here are the basic facts as I understand them:

• The Allentown Diocese decided to close Reading Central Catholic High School (CCHS in Reading, PA).
• Said group also decided to merge CCHS with Holy Name High School (the Catholic school across the Schuylkill River) which has a better, more modern facility to continue to provide a secondary Catholic education for CCHS students and others in Berks County.
• Holy Name (HN) parents and alumni have banded together to create the ‘Save the Money / Save the Name’ campaign. Their premise is that changing the school’s name to reflect the merger is a money sink requiring excess funds to provide new stationery, uniforms, and signage and that it will hurt the institution financially by requiring them to rebrand, which existing donors may not support.

The first two points are a horrible consequence of low enrollment, a maintenance-nightmare of a building from 1941, and a sign of the times. The third is a tad more complicated.

I get the HN family’s passion about retaining the school name; we are all passionate about the things we care about most especially our homes and families. I can’t imagine any school or business wanting to change their identity after 50 years. However, tying this rationale to money seems to be more of a guise in assuming that the diocese only cares about the bottom line. Since the diocese wouldn’t agree to keep the school’s name just because these parents want them to, ‘Save the Money, Save the Name’ supporters are threatening to withhold church tithing and financial support of Berks Catholic.

With the influx of additional tuition from the new students, help from the diocese, and perhaps the addition of a fundraiser or two, the funds to update the school’s name can easily be attained. Money problem solved for the transition, now what about this issue of rebranding?

A brand represents who or what someone is at their core and how the world sees them. Hershey. Tiffany’s. The Home Depot. These are international brands. Changing their name would impact how they are viewed and the products they sell. But Holy Name? The Hill School and The French Schools it is not. Holy Name is a school in a Philly suburb that is on the crux of merging with another Catholic school in order to guarantee that secondary Catholic education can continue in Reading, PA. Though Holy Name provides a well-respected and well-rounded education, it is by no means exclusive and the majority of its students are there because it was a natural progression from their feeder schools.

By blending two school cultures, students, and communities, Berks Catholic is going to be a new and improved high school. It’s time to update its image and reflect a unified front to the local community, who I’m sure is just adding this debacle to the list of everything that’s wrong with the Catholic Church today (now there’s a brand that could use some rebranding). If donors and alumni can’t understand and support this decision to rebrand, well, then I think their actions to withhold money from the school speak volumes about who they are as individuals and not true alumni.

This isn’t a matter of having a handful of random students sign up at Holy Name. An entire school is transferring. They won’t be HN or CCHS anymore. A new moniker reflects change, compromise, and the merging of two well-established schools. [By the way, the current HN facility was opened in 1964 to serve the children in the western half of Reading, while CCHS continued to educate those from the eastern half in their original building from 1941. The point of this mini-history lesson is that prior to HN’s opening, all of these students were CCHS students. Fifty years later no one seems to remember that we used to be one—ONE—school. There was no us vs. them issue. Keeping either name today inevitably isolates one group.]

The debate and war of words waged by the HN parents and alumni is like watching the Charlie Sheen train wreck. They’re fighting hard for their side today and turning a blind eye to the future. I’m wary and confused as to why they don’t see that:

1. Standing up for their cause, as they say, is just showing the local community that the town’s Catholics are unforgiving, unaccepting, and unwilling to help the community as a whole. There are a couple hundred students without a home after June who are suddenly expected to give up their identity and assume that of their rival’s. (Imagine the Phillies merging with the Giants and having to become the new Giants. Would all Phillies Phans suddenly/willingly want to root for them?) These students are losing their classrooms, teachers, and everything they signed up for when they decided to become CCHS students and pay for a CCHS-branded education. They could have taken the more affordable way out and attended Reading High, Exeter, or Daniel Boone from the get go, but their parents chose to pay tuition instead during a time when every penny counts in our households.

2. The HN “forum” to keep the name is sending layers of other messages, not the least of which is that they don’t care about what CCHS students—not the parents, alumni, institution, or diocese—the STUDENTS, aka children, are having to cope with because of the merger. Honestly, if I was a current CCHS student watching the Holy Namers’ protest, wild horses couldn’t drag me to go to school there in the fall. Why, you ask? Perhaps because I would assume that if the parents and alumni are fighting this hard against accepting a simple name change to reflect a new identity that the Holy Name student population will be none too kind or accommodating to us when we get there. Being forced to switch schools would leave anyone feeling anxious, especially teenagers who already have to deal with the drama and social upheavals typical of their age group. No one’s expecting this to be a smooth transition, but instead of a welcome mat at their school, the HN forum just slammed the front door on already worried and unsettled CCHS students. And, to point #3…

3. “Save the Money.” If CCHS students end up not transferring to Berks Catholic or whatever it will end up being called, saving a few dollars on rebranding today will mean nothing in the long term when the enrollment they’re anticipating never materializes and they too will end up having to close their doors at some point in the future. The decision to close CCHS was based on money, but money shouldn’t be the primary focus of the merged schools in this phase of the transition. Topping the list of everything that needs to be worked out are the psychological ramifications, coping process, and emotional and logistical fallout for students on both sides. The decisions about the name, the changeover, new signage and stationery will naturally evolve from there.

I get that Holy Namers identify themselves as such and want to keep it that way, but all of the Central Catholic students, alumni, parents, faculty, and administration are part of the CCHS brand. Just because the diocese closed the school doesn’t mean that the brand will “POOF” instantly vanish when the students cross the threshold into the HN building. There has to be a new name and a new brand to identify a new, unified student body and a united HN-CCHS. The building doesn’t define a school; the students do. This will also be true in the new, blended school. The sooner everyone gets over the name game and starts investing energy and time in making the merger a positive experience for the students, the better off we will be.

Neither side is happy with this decision, but it’s not fair and supportive of student morale that one side loses itself completely while the other retains its name, facility, and brand. The Save the Name campaign is divisive, hurtful, biased, and worst of all has completely lost sight of everything that’s important—the well-being of our children. All our children.

Resource:
Reading Eagle

Saying Goodbye

In a few short months silence will echo permanently in its three floors of winding hallways. The once bustling corridors of students pushing their way to class—some begrudgingly, others enthusiastically—will be mere memories haunting the emptiness. A history we thought would live on for our children and our children’s children will come to an end.

Reading Central Catholic High School (CCHS) in Reading, PA isn’t just any school. Most are built for the specific purpose of educating students. As such, certain elements and conveniences are built in and modernized for the faculty and pupils. But half of CCHS is a historic landmark. It had a history long before any student ever set foot onto its property. (But that’s a story for another day.)

After years of dwindling enrollment, this private school succumbed to the recession and its inevitable fate was sealed by the Allentown Diocese. While I understand the decision to merge CCHS with (its arch-rival) Holy Name (HN) from a business perspective, there has been a vehemently vocal push from some members of the HN community (and less vocal but staunch CCHSers) to reject becoming a unified school under the Berks Catholic title and remain “Holy Name.” True, this is a generic union of two schools with long, fascinating histories. However, what these “good” Catholics are forgetting is that the CCHS institution is losing everything—its building, its traditions, its memories, and more—by moving into the HN building. It’s a necessary move in order to keep secondary Catholic education alive in Berks County, but it’s one that I’m sure current CCHS students, parents and alumni are finding a difficult one to accept.

The closure of CCHS feels like a death in the family. You see, CCHS is so much more than just another school. It’s our school. It represents everyone who wandered its halls. Awkward teen-dom was survived there. The most impressionable and important years of our lives leading to adulthood were spent in its halls and classrooms. It defined who we were then and who we are today. Though with each passing year its memories are fading, CCHS will forever live on in our hearts.

Closing the school is a necessary “evil” in this economic climate and makes financial sense, but CCHS is more than a business. It’s filled with thousands of individual stories. I met my husband in Freshman Homeroom #2. I made friends and lost friends in its halls. Fates were decided. Dreams came true and some were dashed. Hearts were broken, but lifelong friendships were made. Limits were pushed; detentions served (and in some cases using a toothbrush to scrub the sacred marble staircase—more on that in another blog). Academic, athletic, and personal challenges were faced head on; we won some and lost a lot. In these four vital years, we entered as children and left as adults.

Central lives on through each of us. We may not have a spectacular one-of-a-kind building to call our home anymore or CCHS homecomings at the football field on St. Lawrence Avenue, but we carry the school’s spirit, its lessons, and its memories in our unforgettable tales and our lasting friendships.

I can’t believe I’m saying this to Catholics who are supposed to support each other and their communities. It’s time to put aside differences and understand that CCHS and HN will live on as Berks Catholic.
• Centralites: The decision has been made. The school is closing. Remember the past, but look to the future.
• Holy Namers: It’s a merger, not an acquisition. Both schools need to blend. Get used to it.

New traditions will be forged. New opportunities will come to pass. And as long as both schools’ alumni live, the wonderful memories and traditions of CCHS and HN will live on through our stories, our actions, and our efforts to preserve both identities while peacefully compromising to create a better, richer community for the future Berks Catholic students, who ultimately are our future in Reading and beyond.

We are adults. Our children learn from our actions in what we do and say. More importantly, the leaders of tomorrow learn from their parents first. Shouldn’t we set an example for our children by teaching them that compromise is a necessary way of life? In a situation like this feelings on all sides are going to get hurt and no one at the moment is going to be 100% happy with the decisions and choices that are made. But twenty years from now Berks Catholic alumni will be grateful that private, college prep education was available in their backyard and, more importantly, provided a solid, moral foundation for their lives.

The situation could be worse. Both schools could close in this economy and Catholic education—along with both CCHS and HN’s rich pasts—would be nothing more than a forgotten page in Reading’s quickly vanishing history.

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The title page of our 1996 yearbook foreshadows the state of the school today.