By Joanne Peterson

The Beacon

Annika climbs on the school bus, toting a pink backpack loaded with the necessities a 1st grader needs at Garwood Elementary in Rathdrum, Idaho.

I stand in the rain at the end of the driveway, waving. I have forgotten to ask whether she has a friend on the bus, someone to sit with.

As I watch, she plops her backpack onto a front seat and then sits down, alone. Her small hand appears behind the rain-wet window, returning my wave.

During my Edmonds childhood, I walked to school every year until 9th grade. Then we Edmonds kids joined students from Alderwood Manor, Esperance and other elementary schools to attend the new Lynnwood Junior High. I started the day riding a yellow bus as it wound its way through the wet forested darkness of Woodway Park before it climbed the hill to Lynnwood.

The next year, as sophomores, we Edmonds kids resumed walking to school. Edmonds High was located in the building now reincarnated as the Edmonds Center For The Arts.

I loved that old building and was none too happy when part way through our senior year a new Edmonds High School building went up at the current Edmonds-Woodway High School location, and we moved into it.

The building featured totally outdoor hallways with exterior classroom doors. Who thought of THAT? Students were perpetually cold and damp.

The current Edmonds-Woodway High School building, which replaced the new building of my senior year, is at least 20 times more attractive and functional.

My preference, though, would be that each state provide half a dozen school designs from which every district could choose, with freedom to modify the plans to fit the needs and esthetic preferences of each school board and neighborhood but not the freedom to create a distinctive (and expensive) new plan. Just think of the tax dollars that could go toward lowering class sizes, buying teaching materials, or funding music and art programs!

I doubt whether Idaho districts have much money to build new schools. If Annika and her family stay on their five acres in Rathdrum, shell be riding that big yellow bus from 1st grade at Garwood Elementary through her senior year at Lakeland High School, quite likely spending those years in the existing buildings.

Its 3 p.m. and Annika rushes in the back door. She flings her backpack on the floor and runs toward me for a hug. When finally I unwrap my arms and turn her loose, she heads for a snack.

Then she picks up her backpack and lugs it to the kitchen table, unloading her lunchbox and assorted papers from her day at school. My 1st grade granddaughter begins her homework.