Springfield High School

At Springfield High School, Ethan Doyle is an honors student, a member of the baseball team, the investment club, and an elite student group known as Superintendent’s Roundtable. But perhaps his most notable accomplishment came during the spring of his sophomore year, when he assassinated more of his classmates than anybody else.

Soil coats my hands and a sun beats down on me. I've spent hours now in the September sun. My pants are covered in mud and I can feel the sunburn start to develop on my shoulders, but as I look back it all seems worth it. Over a hundred piles of turned up earth resides on damp ground. It may not look like much now, but in a decade these trees will tower over our property in a massive forest of powerful oaks.

Thanks to all who took the time to participate in the NPR Illinois Advisory Convening.  K-12 funding was the main topic the group discussed.  Listen to the unedited, raw audio to hear how it progressed.  It has been posted in two parts to make file size manageable.  View the slide show of the participants above.

If you’ve got a kid in school, chances are you’ve got a handbook with a long list of rules and expectations. But data suggests that, in many schools, enforcement may be unequal, with black students getting more disciplinary actions than white students.

“If you’re an African American male, you’re going to get targeted at Springfield High, regardless. You can be a person who’s into school; they still gonna watch you.”

Ted Harrison is proud that his son, Malik, plays football for Eastern Illinois University on a full scholarship. But ask Harrison about his son’s history of concussions, and he’s not sure he knows the exact number. He thinks the first one occurred during an afternoon practice early in Malik’s playing career at Springfield High School.

The Harrisons weren't notified by the coaching staff.

“We were alerted by Malik," Harrison says. 

A nationwide survey recently published found that Illinois school districts typically don’t mention gay, lesbian and transgender students in their anti-bullying policies.

I love to travel.  At 17, I have visited more than 40 states. I have been to Canada and Mexico, and this past summer I visited China.  One of the most exciting days of my life was the day I received my passport.

Imagine everyone could live forever - never aging, never worrying about having time to do the things we envision because we have limitless years. However, such a life is impossible. Humans are not made to last. 

I have always believed in something that few seem to grasp. Something that you wouldn’t expect. I believe in trying. Not success, not failure but simply trying. The power of trying does not make itself very apparent because there are too many people (myself included) that aren’t brave enough to step up to the challenge. When I was diagnosed with attention deficit disorder, I felt the world had dealt me a losing hand, and there was nothing that I could do. I slogged through life for the longest time, content that my fate of failure was sealed.

 It is July 31st. I am standing in an airport far away from here. I turn around for the last time and see my parents and three sisters waving goodbye with tears running down their faces. I have not cried a single tear today. I think the tears are all gone. I cried enough yesterday. I am way too excited to cry anyway. Today it is finally going to happen. I have been waiting for this moment for almost two years. I believe that this year is going to be worth it.

I was born and raised in Springfield, IL and categorize myself as an American Muslim; always have, always will. Some, however, forget I have the same basic rights, memories and needs as every American. We have all experienced the aftermath of 9/11, but as an American Muslim living in a post 9/11 world, my experiences have differed greatly.

“We’re going to drive to the football game at nine tonight,” I said to Ayumi, explaining our plans for the evening.

She cocked her head and gave me a quizzical look.

I tried again. “At nine o’clock, we will drive to the football game.”

She shook her head. Wakarimasen. I don’t understand.

I paused, rephrasing the sentence in my mind. “Tonight, at nine o’clock, we will go to the football game.”

Wakarimasu! She understood. “Oh! Okay,” Ayumi said. “I am happy!”

THIS I BELIEVE - I was only five when I came home from kindergarten with an American Youth Football League flyer, begging my parents to sign me up. They didn’t hesitate. There were never “boy” things or “girl” things in my house. There were just things. This was how it worked in my family where my father was in the kitchen cooking while my mother was in the living room screaming at the football game. Plopping down next to my mom on the couch with my over-sized Packer’s jersey seemed like the most natural thing in the world.

There are walls among us. Walls can protect us by surrounding or discourage us by dividing. There is a wall among us that not only discourages but also destroys human beings with the sole intention of division. This infamous wall runs through Texas, California, and Arizona along the Mexican border. I do not believe in this sort of division. I have been in the midst of discrimination at its worst and witnessed firsthand how beautiful it is when people come together. Therefore, I believe in walls to encompass people of every ethnicity, heritage, and culture; walls to bring outsiders in. 

For the longest time we were known to everyone as the Brady Bunch. That all changed when John Paul came along. He threw the whole thing off! Ever since I can remember, my family has been growing, and yes, I’m talking about my immediate family: the Moore family. My earliest memories of a small, normal-sized family are when it was only me, Mom, Dad, Cordelia and Jimmy, moving to Springfield from Virginia and the five of us waiting on Joey to enter our lives. It has been fourteen years since then, with Joey being followed by Josh, Maria and, lastly John Paul.

 My 17 years of life have taught me that the world is a complicated place. The cultures that exist across the globe are vastly diverse and it seems people are quicker to disagree than agree with each other. In a world littered with conflict, I believe in the power of debate as a tool to bring about change. I believe that the world cannot advance without constant questioning of our actions.  And isn’t that what we all want? To leave the world in a better state than when we entered it? I know I do. I desire a better world, one without genocide and poverty, corruption and war.

It all started innocently enough when I spotted in the newspaper that Paul McCartney was seen at a local Circle K gas station. It was then that my mom first showed me her old Beatles’ albums in honor of Paul’s bathroom stop in little Nowheresville, Illinois. I was really wondering what the big deal was with some old washed up rock star, but I tried to act interested anyways. My mom gave me an Abbey Road CD shortly afterward. It sat in my room for about two months before I bothered to even give it a listen. When I did, it changed my life.

I never text and drive. I assiduously abstain from all Chapstick-checking, hair-fixing, last-minute primping as soon as I get behind the wheel. Friends and family have informed me that I am the slowest driver in Springfield; the slowpoke crawling down Lawrence at 28 mph. 

Many teenagers strive to be normal.  The question is what does it mean to live a normal life?  Is it being on a sports team? Doing well in your classes? Having a big group of friends?  Whether it is any of these, as long as you are happy and enjoy yourself, I consider it a normal life.  Life has a tendency of making this goal difficult; for me life threw Type 1 Diabetes my way.  Every individual deals with problems differently, but I believe they can be dealt with accordingly to lead a normal life.

As the traditional Christmas day festivities come to a close, my family gears up for a unique tradition. With drinks and holiday cookies in hand, we squish around the oval hardwood table to play card games. Through the years, card games like Pan Tan and Between the Sheets have become a staple of the Fetter Family holiday activities.

Better than a text, better than a phone call and, yes, even better than a Facebook update: a letter.

I believe in community. When people think of the word community, they generally think of their neighborhoods, towns, or school districts. When further analyzed, the word community can have a massive array of meanings. Communities form for several different reasons and serve several purposes. I believe that without community, life would be simply too much to bear. Some communities form in response to disasters, such as the recent earthquake in Haiti, which devastated the entire country. It is somewhat astonishing to see Americans join together to support this cause.