Over the past decade or so, I would estimate Mike Wellman, our staff writer, has written at least a million words, giving readers a sense of what makes Des Moines Public Schools a special place. From visiting dignitaries to school fields trips to Special Olympics competitions to artistic performances and so much more, Mike – with pen and notepad in hand – seemed to be everywhere around the school district. And even though DMPS may be the largest school district in Iowa, Mike saw every student and every staff member as an individual. While it’s easy in any large organization to get blinded by policy and bureaucracy, he always wrote from a human perspective. Today is Mike’s last day with DMPS. Tomorrow his retirement begins. It’s our pleasure to share some closing words from him below. Mike’s eloquence and humanity will be missed. (Phil Roeder, director of communications)
I go back a long way with Des Moines Public Schools. Sixty-one years ago, I reported for afternoon kindergarten at Hubbell Elementary. For the last decade or so, it’s been my privilege to work as one of the district’s cheerleaders in the Communications Department. Staff Writer was my title, one that rang lofty to me, never mind its middling rank on the district org chart. Another way of putting it would have been Bearer of Good News.
Picture someone whose mom and dad graduated from East and Roosevelt, respectively, in the 1930s, and whose grandmother once taught at the now defunct Dunlap Elementary on the southeast side. Someone who was a 4th grader at Hubbell when President Kennedy was killed. Who later attended Windsor, where they sent him to the library when he misbehaved because his mother was the librarian there (also, at various times, at Lucas, McKinley, Monroe, Perkins, Phillips and Washington). Also Merrill, when it was still called a junior high. And who started at Roosevelt the month after the moon landing, finishing there as part of the first class of graduates with the right to vote as 18-year-olds. A guy whose own three children also graduated from Des Moines Public Schools, and whose wife is a first class first grade teacher in that same district.
That’s me.
My favorite assignment as an employee has to be covering a presidential visit to North High. Other visits there that stuck with me include the first time I witnessed the Marine JROTC observance of Veterans Day, the honorary diploma bestowed upon a former student who dropped out to enlist after Pearl Harbor was attacked and a special guest speaker; a holocaust survivor graduate who was the youngest person on Schindler’s list.
None of which is to suggest that all of the highlights were at North. Good stories happen daily at all 60+ DMPS branches because schools are inherently energetic, lively, promising and encouraging places to be. Many times I wobbled inside one of ours only to leave a short time later with a bouncier step. It’s a great shame to see them as nearly empty and idle as they’ve had to be since last spring. I’d hoped to report on their return to full strength by the time my time was up. The sooner that day safely comes, the better for us all.
Between my K-12 years as a student and this past decade+ as an employee, a quarter century’s worth of the best years of my life have been directly linked to DMPS. Full disclosure: I took the paycheck years more seriously than the report card ones.
But my two stints have some things in common.
During my Hubbell days, it wasn’t uncommon for kids to walk home for lunch. I remember doing that and hearing Mr. Clayton, the bespectacled custodian, ringing his handheld bell on the playground to summon everyone inside for afternoon classes. That was my signal to quit dawdling along the way back and high-tail it. During my working days for the district, too, I’ve enjoyed the frequent perk of going home for lunch. So have our dogs.
The week I started this job, we drove our oldest off to college. Now, I’m two+ years a grandpa. So I graduated along the way of these last 11 years. I’m about to graduate again, for the next to last time.
I think I did a good job at a great job, the best one I ever had in someone’s employ. I was always grateful for the crack at it. I’m going to miss the feeling of leaving a school with a good story to tell and rushing back to the office so I could share it ASAP.
When I got up one morning a few weeks ago, I found an email sent to me about midnight the night before. It was from a college freshman in his dorm on the eve of his first classes at Harvard, thanking me for stories I wrote about him throughout his exceptionally auspicious high school career. The gesture speaks volumes more about him than me, but it was enough to make me feel momentarily like a teacher must on a fairly regular basis. Education’s a tough racket but it offers special rewards to everyone involved, regardless of the role.
I’ve enjoyed the good fortune of teaming with Phil, Amanda, Adam, Kyle and Jon. Each of them is a pro and my work was made better by theirs. I was also fortunate that the first person I met when I reported for duty in August of 2009 was Linda Sanny, who later beat me to the retirement punch by a few years but remains a good friend.
Finally, thanks to the primary people who made what was supposed to be a two-year hitch possible: Barack Obama, Nancy Sebring, Beth Nigut, Patti Schroeder and Twyla Woods.
I think I thanked the latter four after they interviewed and hired me. I forgot to thank President Obama, though, when I had the chance that historic day at North. I did take his picture up close and shake his hand, but I wasn’t thinking at the time that if it weren’t for the stimulus money his administration came up with for the nation’s public schools in 2009, my job never would have existed. I still can’t believe they gave it to a saloonkeeper who shifted gears in his mid-50s, mid-recession. I trust the fact that two years turned out to be 11 is a reliable indication that there are no regrets on the district’s or the taxpayers’ part. I only have one:
I should have smiled for my ID badge headshot on that first day. Had I known what lay in store I surely would have.