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After 38 years, Perigo ponders educational changes and readies for retirement
Most of the seniors who'll turn their tassels Saturday hadn't been born yet when Linton-Stockton High School guidance counselor Mike Perigo began work at their school 18 years ago.
Soon enough, there will be more time for the experienced educator to take the road trips in the Model A and Model T cars he's restored.
Still, as he readies to retire, Perigo ponders the changes he's seen over 38 years of teaching.
Thinking back, he can't help wondering whether the education system he once knew might have become history, akin to his classic cars.
"I think public education has changed forever, from the way that we knew it," he suggested. "I don't think it will ever go back to the way it was."
Still, the decision to retire wasn't easy. An oversized button on his office table reads "I'm not old. I'm a recycled teenager," after all.
He helped those kids, and knew their dreams. Education became his life, as does for to so many teachers.
Still, he knows the fun -- and the joy -- is fading.
"I didn't think this day would come," he said. "This is really such a big part of my life, and it was difficult saying it was time to go. We have a lot of good kids here."
Looking forward, Perigo wonders what kind of world those students will face.
"The Department of Education and the legislature has done their best to take the fun out of teaching for everybody, both the students and the teachers," he said. "The pressure on all of them is tremendous."
These days, it's all about the tests. Facing work which seemed to become less about education and more about administration -- as well as a culture which seemed to sometimes vilify teachers -- Perigo joined the ranks of retirees.
He's not alone. Superintendent Nick Karazsia successfully sought permission to hire a new guidance counselor immediately if a viable candidate arises.
That's because 15 vacancies exist statewide -- a sign, Perigo said, of widespread dissatisfaction with a job that barely resembles the work he once did.
"The job I set out to do when I became a guidance counselor has become less and less about guidance and more and more administrative, thanks to the state Department of Education and all this testing we have to do," he said.
"Now, you can't imagine the number of tests and the amount of tests we have to do throughout the year."
Most of those tests, he added, come close to commencement, when he's usually working hardest to find scholarships and schools, or vocational training to help his charges find their futures.
Perigo's concerned changing classes, coupled with time and money becoming increasingly strained, mean many students fall through the cracks.
"If a student here is not academically gifted, or if they're not taking courses in our three vocational programs -- if they're in the middle, essentially -- then they're out of luck," he suggested.
"You wind up doing everything, but not nearly as well as it could be done."
The counselor also disagrees with changes to the state curriculum which require students to take four years of mathematics in high school. Three years are needed as "Core 40" requirements, plus one elective math class, are the current norm.
"A lot of students don't get through those three years of math, and probably don't need to," he opined.
"We still need the services an average person provides," he explained. "There are people out there who work every day to make the quality of our lives better, and they don't have a college degree."
A substantial segment of the student body -- the ones who won't join the military or go to college -- gets neglected.
Workers who collect garbage, trim trees or serve food in restaurants are crucial, he said, and the state's changing emphasis and reduced school funding means students who may never attend college.
"The schools that are hurt the most are the small schools," he suggested sadly.
"When we lose a teacher, we may lose a class. Schools like Bloomington North or Carmel might lose a teacher, but they don't lose a course. We've lost five positions over the past four years, and we haven't replaced any of them."
Perhaps as early as the 1960s, Linton, Shakamak and the schools which compose White River Valley should have consolidated, Perigo suggested.
"There should have been one school built, north of here, maybe on Lone Tree Road," he said. "There would have been around a thousand students, a good size to get what they need."
He understands why small towns resisted that change.
"These little towns didn't want to lose their schools, because if they did that, they're afraid they'd lose their identities," he said. "But as a result, the kids in Linton have struggled to get everything they need."
Eventually, he knows things will change. He believes consolidation's inevitable locally.
For now, though, there's the classic cars, his wife Susan, and his family: His daughter Britney Lynn and her husband Aaron are teachers, just as he was. His son Seth's a banker in New Whiteland, along with his wife Brooke Misner. His other daughter Brianne Jerrells works for Greene County Economic Development, while her husband Tom's a Linton policeman.
Between them, and the grandkids, he knows he can stay busy.
"I will miss the kids tremendously. I will miss the people I work with tremendously," he said. "But I won't miss all these changes."
Then again, he ponders coming back somehow -- a part-time job in education. He knows there's a world of difference between a job and a vocation.
"My kids think I can work on antique cars all the time," he laughed. "But I like working. I like being around people."