Now THAT is someone you can build a school district around. This whole coronaworld has been a challenge for leaders in every corner of life, with some rising to the challenge and others running from it. But despite whispers that snow days may be a thing of the past as schools lean on remote technology during these crazy times, my guy Dr. Zywicki just gets it. He isn't going to let some god forsaken virus and the rise of Zoom classes rob his students, and let's be honest teachers who probably love snow days even more than the kids, of the magic that comes with a snow day.
I'm not just talking the glorious feeling you got when you heard your school's name on the local radio station (Or for the younger people out there, watched it on TV or read it on the internet). I'm talking all the magic that comes with a snow day. Watching all the weather reports the night before, seeing a dusting of white on the road before you went to bed, hearing the plow in the middle of the night, and of course that sweet release of finding out you had nothing to do but ride sleds, throw snowballs, and eat grilled cheese with hot cocoa that hit so differently on a snow day that they tasted like they were made by the gods themselves.
Sure there was the chance that you went to sleep with a 100% chance of a blizzard then woke up to roads as black as Old Man Winter's heart, which hurt more than the chill of when even snowflake made its way down your shirt, and all the homework you bailed on the night before was due in a few hours. But that was the chance we took of dreaming of a day of wintry freedom as well as a free lesson about being prepared for life to throw you a 12-to-6 curveball straight out of Clayton Kershaw's repertoire (Regular Season Kershaw obviously).
Robbing these students of the miracle of a snow day after all they have been robbed of this year would be criminal. Hell, if I lived in the neighboring town to Dr. Zywicki's school district, I'd pull some shady zoning shenanigans to get my kids in a school that still has snow days like Adam Banks' parents did to keep him on the Hawks. Trying to keep your kids focused on the computer while learning virtually is hard enough right now. I can't imagine how worthless it would be when there is 6 inches of fresh powder outside their windows that packs PERFECTLY for both snowball fights and sleigh riding (relax, I call it sleigh riding even though others call it sledding). Every student would rather be playing in the snow than learning a couple of lessons they will not need to use again in life after they take a test about it, every parent would rather have that kid outside burning off youthful energy while they try to get work done instead of in their hair, and every teacher would much rather catch up on Netflix and their liquor cabinet than hopping on a Zoom call with a bunch of kids who don't want to be there. This is truly a win/win/win proposition.
Which is why this Dr. Zywicki needs to be nominated for the highest honor a civilian can achieve in the U.S. of A, The Medal of Freedom. I don't know if some schlub blogger can actually nominate someone for that or what. But he has my vote, which again I don't know if I can actually cast here. But if you can't, I think the least we could do for Dr. Zywicki's heroic actions is to give him a raise as well as Chaps' Purple Heart since he never seems to wear it anyway.