By Douglas R. Wermedal, PhD

Executive Director

It's chicken breast and rice pilaf season. All around the state, end-of-the-year banquets of one sort or another are convening to recognize the year’s accomplishments and celebrate graduating students and retiring/departing staff. Most education professionals have been to enough banquet-type events to have a minor stress reaction upon seeing a plated chicken breast in the company of a rice side dish. Although the celebrations are certainly legit, there does seem to be a fairly narrow poultry/rice universal menu for these events.

I recently attended one such event and came away with some lasting impressions of what makes a South Dakota education so worthwhile. ASBSD's Celebration of Academic Excellence invites the top 1% of seniors from across the state to be recognized for their academic achievement. This year marked the 34th anniversary of this event and drew 440 students, parents and school officials to Pierre for the celebration.

The recognition is simple but elegant in its simplicity. A top state leader—this year it was Lt. Governor Larry Rhoden—offers remarks which recognize the students’ efforts and encourages them to see the connections between their academic success and support from their families and schools. Next, each student’s name and the school they represent is formally announced, and they are presented with a pin from the ASBSD president denoting their academic excellence, then they receive a greeting from the Secretary of Education and finally a certificate and a professional photo of them with the Lt. Governor. ASBSD sends these pictures to the students' schools and local media outlets to ensure the recognition can be widely shared.

From my seat at the head table I could readily survey the room. The crowd was varied just like you hope it would be. Some families in their Sunday best, some families in jeans and seed corn caps, but both equally proud of their student. Some families, punctual, there the moment the banquet hall doors opened and vying for what they perceived to be prime seating; some families, tardy, arriving with the banquet entrée, but both equally proud of their student. Some families boisterously celebrating when their student’s name was read, some families clapping sedately but with broad smiles revealing that it was their kid walking across the stage.

Lt. Gov. Larry Rhoden speaks at the Celebration of Academic Excellence lunch in Pierre April 29th.

Lt. Governor Rhoden’s persona is affable, approachable, and authentic, and that shone through in his brief speech. I watched as the families reacted non-verbally as Lt. Governor Rhoden reflected warmly on the role Mom and Dad played in each students’ achievement. At one table, I saw a daughter lean her head on Dad’s shoulder. At another table a son enthusiastically gave his parents two thumbs up. I certainly saw many parents lifting glasses and dabbing at their eyes. Perhaps my favorite reaction was from one of the front tables where a little brother who had probably been dragged to a lot of these events in his life, stuck his tongue out at his older sister as her name was read. It was a well-timed gesture (and sustained I might add) which drew laughs from the table and Big Sister had to look away to stop from giggling before she met the Lt. Governor.

Education is a powerful family convener. However, that family is configured, and at whatever level the student’s academic success is achieved. For most families this is not the top 1%, presumably the way the math works, 99% of the families do not have this experience.

From my seat, I could see the families where both parents were not present. I could see the families where only grandparents were present, and a handful of kids who flew solo. Of course, not attending does not mean family support was absent in the students’ life, but the reality of many kids’ lives is family support is not always there. Schools in partnership with families are future-making machines, and I was proud—I am proud—of South Dakota’s education system which makes that possible for all students.

These were my thoughts as I polished off my chicken cordon bleu and rice.

By Jessica Filler

Director of Policy and Legal Services

Title IX is only 37 words long, but the scuttle surrounding this federal act is increasing day-by-day. The new regulations that released April 19—the same day as Taylor Swift’s new album—are set to take effect August 1, 2024.

ASBSD Council of School Attorneys (COSA) members are school attorneys who represent school districts across the South Dakota. The chances are high that your school attorney is a member of COSA or is on the COSA Board. Current board members include Jane Farrell, President; Brett Arenz, Vice-President; and Directors Rodney Freeman, Sam Kerr, Rory King, Tyler Coverdale and Gerry Kaufman, as well as myself and ASBSD Executive Director Dr. Douglas Wermedal.

You have [hopefully] seen emails announcing our monthly school law webinars, which are presented by a COSA member and are recorded for anyone who cannot watch them live. Last fall, we hosted an in-person school law seminar in Chamberlain, and we hope to do it again this fall. ASBSD COSA is currently working on offering training for all employees at an affordable cost, ranging from Title IX (since the new regulations require training for all employees), as well as other employment training offerings such as 504, IDEA, and other employment matters. So, watch for Title IX training offerings through ASBSD/COSA.

Although Taylor Swift’s new album is called The Tortured Poets Department, hopefully ASBSD’s COSA can help schools not feel so ‘tortured’ in learning about and complying with all sorts of evolving regulations.

By Holly Nagel

Chief Financial Advisor and Director of Protective Trust Services

While the school year is coming to a close, activity at school buildings doesn't stop.

Daily routines take a change from the structured school schedule to a chaotic schedules of summer school, hallway and classroom closures, staff moving rooms and the new smells of chemicals used for cleaning, gluing new carpet, and stripping floors.

Heavy boxes, fresh wax and lawn maintenance all contribute to higher risk for employee injury. How do you combat the issue? Communication is key.

The following items will help prevent injury to staff and visitors:

• Be transparent on where exposures exist.

• Develop a system for prioritizing maintenance concerns.

• Have a documented approach.

• Consider what tasks are unrealistic given available resources.

• Hold micro safety meetings on highly pertinent topics.

• Help ensure your property remains protected as well.

• Secure the property assets you can when hail and wind are forecast.

• Consider a routine inspection process to identify vulnerable areas.
  
  
• Park vehicles in the most protected areas possible, be it a garage or alongside a protective barrier.

• Be aware of surroundings when doing lawn care and using other equipment. Watch for people, buildings and other vehicles. Students, cars and buses are still active in the area.

• Perform preventative maintenance checks on equipment, playgrounds and playing fields.

• Ensure staff, including seasonal, have the proper training to promote awareness to equipment use and safety.

ASBPT has online training available to member districts. If you have any questions or would like additional information, contact Holly Nagel (hnagel@asbsd.org) or Heidi Jennings (Heidi.jennings@asbsd.org).

In Issue 9 of South Dakota School Boards: Highlights and Insights, ASBSD Past President Lisa Snedeker's home town was misstated. Snedeker is from Kalamazoo, Michigan. We apologize for the error.

You can find the article here.

By Douglas R. Wermedal, PhD

Executive Director

I was a member of my middle school marching band. I should not have been. Barely adequate as a trumpet player, I could not play proficiently even when seated upright in a non-moving chair. I spent nearly half the time in band class just pushing the valves on my trumpet. Pretending I knew what was going on in the music, while not pushing enough air to make any sound at all. You can get away with that in a large brass section.

Our band teacher was a guy named Mr. Feuerhelm. He was a good teacher. I was a bad band student. I did not practice, did not look at the music outside of class, only occupying the last chair of the trumpet section because my mom who was a piano teacher wanted me in the band. Mr. Feuerhelm ran an entertaining classroom about once a week his baton, a chalkboard eraser or sheet music would get tossed in frustration, sometimes all three simultaneously. I may not have been the only bad band student in his classroom.

Eventually my mouth got too big for the trumpet. (It’s a thing it happens). The musical term for the size of your lips in relationship to the mouthpiece of the instrument is the “embouchure”. Any way my lips simply got too big for the average trumpet mouthpiece, so I got moved to trombone where my largish mouth matched the mouthpiece more comfortably.

If I was passable as a trumpet player, I was breathtakingly bad as a trombonist and about two weeks of this experiment was all the Mr. Feuerhelm could stand. Next it was on to the low brass of a baritone which as an instrument that is essentially a not fully grown tuba -- this is where I was to spend the remainder of my junior high band career.

With hard work and perseverance, I eventually became nearly average at playing the baritone. Besides the instrument fitting my big, fat mouth better, the music for baritone was simpler than was typical trumpet music. With the trumpet section hogging all the best melodies; the baritones, trombones and tubas were left to grind away at music with generous helpings of easy-to-play whole notes. There was no doubt that baritone better matched my musical skills, and interest. The baritone demanded very little of me, which was exactly what I wanted to give, but then I had to learn to march with the darn thing.

The band had been working a song by the rock group Chicago song titled “25 or 6 to 4” for an upcoming parade. It was a song you would occasionally hear on the radio, so it was moderately cool to rehearse it and listen to our command of the music progress from chaos toward recognizable as the popular tune on the radio. Of course, this recognizability relied heavily on the band being completely stationary and having all the sheet music right in front of us, generally not the conditions experienced by a marching band.

Freed from the confines of the band room and released into the wilderness of the middle school parking lot, we began to form up ranks for marching practice. The entire percussion section looked dramatically overmatched by the size of their instruments. Some shoulders were barely wide enough to support the harness their drums would hang from. I was certain that the base drummer was outweighed by his instrument by a good 50 pounds. I had my own issues in trying to march and play at the same time. I could get the steps right, or I could get the music right. Getting both right was going to require God’s gracious intervention.

But the toughest lot was the fate of the tuba section; scrawny middle schoolers looked like they were being ingested by giant brass anacondas. I did not see how they could complete the parade route, and indeed a couple of them did not. Casualties were the heaviest in the tuba battalion.

Our first attempts at marching were spasmodic and clumsy, woodwinds, brass and percussion milling about like a confused ameba. To get it right we practiced before school, and during band class, and after school. We practiced in the near dark, the drizzling rain, and the cold spring winds and little by little we got better. Eventually the music improved too, and the tune was again recognizable. We would be ready before our big debut at the parade.

Parade day dawned cold and cloudy. We were excused after fifth period to get ready for the parade. We all donned our new band uniforms for the first time. A fuzzy feathered plume topped our glossy vinyl band helmets. Helmets on and plumes perched atop our headwear, we all looked reminiscent of Dr. Suess characters. The Marching Junior High Sneetches from Albert Lea’s beaches.

The morning’s gray clouds broke, and we stepped out of the band room to a glorious sunny fall homecoming afternoon. We “25-or-6-to-4ed” down Fountain Street toward the lake at the center of town and tried to stay in step with the cadence while also secretly scanning the crowd for family and friends gleefully waving and lining the parade route.

It was after the third time through our one-song catalog and toward the end of the route when I noticed a disturbance in our parade formation. The lines had become snaky and irregular, anyone without an instrument in their face was shouting things like “look out” and “eww gross”. Ahead of us a Clydesdale parade entry had done what Clydesdales do toward the end of parades and the band was marching straight into it. To this day I cannot hear the “25 or 6 to 4” without checking the bottom of my shoe.