This will not be one of my more well-received columns. I’m fairly certain I’ve never written this before, but here goes: I think the Norwich City School Board made the right decision.

Sure, I think they and the school bungled it a bit along the way, but I believe ultimately they were right in allowing this weekend’s leadership retreat to the Adirondacks.

Truthfully, I’ve gone back and forth on how I feel about this issue a dozen times this week – and that in itself is a rarity. Having been around the block a few times, I’m usually pretty clear in deciding who I believe is right and who I think is wrong in any given situation. Not so much this week, when we learned that an apparently rushed-through leadership program’s enrollment included one of the three vandals involved in last year’s desecration of the Norwich Jewish Center.

Outrageous! This kid shouldn’t be allowed to go on any weekend field trips! Like many people, that was my initial, gut reaction. Ultimately, I’ve concluded, my gut isn’t always right.

The biggest mistake made by the Norwich school in this situation is the one that’s the root of so many community debacles over the years – a failure to communicate. I’ll not delve too far into the timeline specifics here, but for whatever reason, this leadership program that’s actually been planned for many months got a last-minute rush past the school board, and apparently never had a faculty-wide buy-in at the high school. I’m convinced that a lot of time and effort went into planning this weekend’s program aimed at both developing and nurturing student leaders, but I’m equally convinced the failure to communicate that stirred a large portion of the current controversy. How hard would it have been to get Joe Maiurano (the high school teacher, not the mayor, in case you’re confused) to give his powerpoint to the board, and in front of the public? The majority of the questions about the program’s timing and selection process could’ve been nipped in the bud right there. For the ten millionth time, people, if you’re planning something even remotely different in Chenango County, ask yourself first, “How can this come back to bite us in the ass?” Answering that simple question and avoiding the resultant pitfalls would save everyone a world of hurt.