This small town at the junction of the Penobscot and Piscataquis rivers has weathered a number of blows during its 177-year history. But some Howland residents say the loss of the high school that serves it and seven other communities would almost certainly be the knockout punch.

“It’s the only thing that will kill us,” said SAD 31 resident Vanessa Bruce, who is spearheading a fight to keep Penobscot Valley High School open in the wake of the state’s refusal to pay for a new building.

Instead, the district has been told to study sending its 234 high school students to Mattanawcook Academy in Lincoln, 10 miles north on I-95.

The situation in SAD 31 has fanned the flames of a long-running debate about what size schools should be. The controversy, which has led to the closing of hundreds of small Maine schools since the 19th century, has been sparked by a renewed push by state education officials to consolidate even bigger schools in light of tighter resources and dwindling population. Emotions run particularly high in rural areas, where the local school often provides the last shred of pride and identity many towns possess.

The State Board of Education knocked SAD 31 for a loop last month when it told the district it would not pay for its proposed $9.6 million building. Under the school funding law, the state would have contributed all but about $200,000 to the project, a reflection of the property poverty that afflicts SAD 31 towns and many other rural communities as their woods economy declines.

The decision was based on a recommendation by Commissioner of Education J. Duke Albanese.

He cited a recently completed consultants’ report saying the school’s population could decline to fewer than 200 students within a decade, probably accompanied by a reduction in state funding.

The report, authored by two retired Maine school superintendents, also said the school’s programs are inadequate for noncollege-bound students to meet the state’s Learning Results in science and math, and the district lacks the revenue to make changes or support a new facility.

The report also cited the school’s low Maine Educational Assessment scores, including the fact that more than half the students have not met standards in math for the past three years.

Little-known law

At a meeting of the State Board of Education on Jan. 15 in Augusta, 250 residents – more than the school’s enrollment – gathered to get the bad news. Jean Gulliver, the state board’s chairwoman, referred to a little-known 1977 law stipulating that the board may approve a secondary school construction project for fewer than 300 pupils only if it has determined that the school is going to have an adequate educational program.

“We have determined that it isn’t,” she said.

The only loophole is extreme geographic isolation.

The last time the law was exercised “isn’t even in anybody’s memory,” Gulliver said during an interview. In her 10 years on the board, she said, “we haven’t had a request to build that small a high school.”

Maine has 35 high schools with fewer than 300 students. Only four applied for scarce state funds to build major capital construction projects in 2001, and they were rated way down on the list of 92 applications. Therefore, they did not come under the same kind of scrutiny as SAD 31. The four were Machias High School, rated No. 30; Ashland High School, 42; Narraguagus High School in Harrington, 53; and Greenville High School, 74. Only 11 applications made the “priority list.”

Each request for construction funds is reviewed on a case by case basis, Gulliver said. But every small school that makes it to the state’s priority list will be subject to the same in-depth analysis as PVHS, she said.

“This isn’t just about size. It’s about the quality of the program [at PVHS],” said Gulliver, referring to the report’s finding that PVHS’ per-student cost is $862 above the state average of $6,640 per student. “And they still don’t have a quality program,” she said.

Discussions of school closings and consolidation aren’t going to be unusual, according to Albanese. “What’s happening at PVHS is tied to a facility, but the same conversation for different reasons will happen all over Maine and a host of other states that are facing declining enrollments and limited resources,” he said.

For example, the East Millinocket school committee is exploring sending Schenck High School’s 220 students to Stearns High School in neighboring Millinocket next fall in the wake of the Great Northern Paper Inc. bankruptcy.

The state will continue to encourage consolidation, according to state board member Jim Rier. Discussions are under way to set up financial incentives for school systems that apply for state building aid after devising a consolidation plan.

That’s the same kind of carrot on a stick devised in 1957 in the Sinclair Act, which encouraged communities to create school districts. But back then the law said that schools had to have at least 300 students in grades nine through 12 to form a district.

Eight years later another law was passed that demanded the closure of all schools with fewer than 100 pupils and 10 teachers. That statutory combination led to the closing of dozens of small high schools.

Is bigger better?

Despite many years of research, educators still don’t agree on whether big schools are better than small schools. In fact, they don’t even agree on what constitutes big and small.

Advocates of small schools say students receive more personal attention, and they learn more, drop out less, and have a higher graduation rate. In addition, small schools enable teachers to communicate with each other more easily, and they tend to elicit more community involvement, supporters say.

But proponents of consolidation maintain larger schools are more cost-effective and provide students with a broader array of courses and better-trained teachers.

Several UM professors have entered the fray.

Economics professor Phil Trostel recently issued a report concluding that Maine’s schools and school districts are too small and cost more money to run because of duplication. Students in small schools don’t perform as well on standardized tests and aren’t exposed to a variety of classes, he said.

The study drew a heated response from education professor William Davis, who said cost shouldn’t be the only consideration. Students in smaller schools are less likely to engage in criminal activity and substance abuse and more apt to develop close personal relationships with each other and with adult role models, he said.

After comparing small, medium and large high schools in the state, education professors Gordon Donaldson and Dave Brown came up with figures that show little difference in test scores, dropout and graduation rates, higher education aspirations and cost per graduate.

But teacher salaries are lower in small schools, as is the percentage of teachers with graduate degrees, they concluded.

Instead of moving students from their schools, however, Donaldson says the state could equalize educational opportunities by giving small schools more money to purchase technology enabling them to share resources through distance learning. Extra money could also be used to increase salaries and professional opportunities for teachers.

Dozens of studies

Dozens of national studies have also looked at the problem of small vs. big. According to one recent national study, small schools are actually more cost-efficient for a number of reasons.

Their higher graduation rate eliminates long-term costs of addressing the social problems related to school dropouts, including higher rates of unemployment, crime and poor health.

Larger schools require more administration and more maintenance personnel, according to the study, which said transportation costs in consolidated schools also add up. The economic toll when a community loses a school can be significant, the study said.

Even with all the debate, no one has come up with the ideal size for a high school. Some researchers say there should be no more than 200 students, while others put the number at 500. Still others maintain schools operate most efficiently with 600-900 students.

An observation by UM researcher Trostel further complicates the issue. The optimal size of a high school will differ according to the variable being measured. Achieving cost savings might happen with one size school, while lowering the dropout rate could take another size.

“For lots of other different things that matter, the optimal size isn’t clear,” he said.

Meanwhile, educators are left with the reality that it’s sometimes hard to generalize from statistical research.

Academic achievement is all over the board when it comes to small high schools, noted Commissioner Albanese. “Some small schools do just fine. Others don’t do as well. So the verdict isn’t in yet,” he said.

Digging in

Some SAD 31 residents are digging in for a battle.

The idea of a brand new school has given way to a quest to repair the 50-year-old rambling wooden building so that, at the very least, PVHS can remain open.

Residents are rallying to the cause, hoping to raise about $4 million through penny drives, bake sales and auctions to repair the leaky roof, which has left portions of the building unusable, prompting rental of six portable units, each containing two classrooms. Mold and mildew would have to be eradicated, and a new heating system and wiring are needed.

After complaining that the consultants’ report contained omissions and inaccuracies, residents and educators are putting together a written response to give to the state board in an “attempt to expand the completeness and acknowledge the areas where we need to make changes,” said SAD 31 Superintendent Keith Cook, who recently announced his resignation effective April 15.

He contests the state’s enrollment projections, and points out that the school’s MEA scores are no worse than some other high schools in the area. In fact, on the writing portion of the test last year, just 10 high schools scored higher than PVHS, he said.

And like many small high schools, PVHS has a high graduation rate, he said. In 2001, the school had a 93 percent graduation rate, compared to the state average of 86.2.

Curriculum Coordinator Catherine Menard said the school already knew the math program needed work and was in the process of restructuring the curriculum to align it with the Learning Results.

“Any school is constantly reviewing, reflecting and revising,” she said. “That’s just sound educational practice.”

Some residents are angry. They live in eight communities – Enfield, Howland, Burlington, Edinburg, Lowell, Maxfield, Passadumkeag and Seboeis Plantation, ranging in population from 1,616 to 41.

Howland Town Manager Glenna Armour said, “This area doesn’t need this last slap in the face. We don’t need to lose our high school.” She recalled the demise of major employers like Pine Tree Tannery, the South Branch Lumber Co., and Hallett’s Doors and Windows. Adding to the town’s woes is the closing of Great Northern Paper, where some residents commuted to work.

Three generations

Gathering in the office at PVHS recently were three generations of the Cloukey family, all graduates of the high school, who lamented the possible closing of the school.

Community life and school events are inextricably linked, said Patty Cloukey, 42, a member of the PVHS Class of 1979.

“At prom time the whole town shows up and sets up bleachers on the parking lot. At homecoming, people park their cars the night before so they get a good view of the game,” said the West Enfield mother whose three sons all graduated from PVHS.

“We love the kids and do everything we can to support them,” said her father-in-law, Carl Cloukey, 66, a West Enfield resident who graduated from PVHS in 1955.

“If this school is shut down, the community and the town are going to possibly just disappear. … Everyone will be basically forced to go their own way,” said Patty Cloukey’s youngest son, Justin, a freshman at UM.

“It’s totally untrue that the education at PVHS isn’t up to par,” he said. In fact, much of the material in his chemistry, psychology and biology classes in Orono turned out to be “reviews of what I got here,” he said.

Down the hall, science teacher Nancy Burgoyne said PVHS turns out plenty of high-achieving students like Justin. Some have gone on to colleges like Colby, Annapolis and Rensselaer Polytechnic Institute.

“A small school system has served both my sons really well,” said the teacher. After graduating from PVHS, one went to Harvard and the University of Pennsylvania, while the younger son is at UM, thinking about becoming a doctor.

All the proof

There may be no conclusive scientific evidence linking small schools to student achievement, but Burgoyne said she has all the proof she needs.

“The opportunities are here,” said the teacher, who’s been at the school for 31 years. “It’s sad we think we have to be big to be better. Do we have 10 science offerings and four languages? No. But with technology tools, can’t we find ways to bring the information in without moving the kids out?”

As students milled about in the busy computer lab, technology teacher Paulette Clapp said PVHS plays an important part in the lives of adults as well as young people.

Residents often arrive at 6:30 a.m. seeking help from teachers with tax forms, bookkeeping, and writing resumes, she said.

“The school is the hub of our community,” said Clapp, who has been at PVHS for 30 years.

Down the hall, math teacher Gerald Hutchinson was writing equations on the blackboard and trying to keep PVHS’ uncertain future “on the back shelf.”

“Outside of class, it’s all teachers think about,” said Hutchinson, who’s been at PVHS for 32 years. “In the teachers room that’s the discussion. We don’t know whether we’ll be here another year or whether we should start looking for another job.”

In the cafeteria PVHS freshman Rocky Lachance said he’s worried about attending Mattanawcook.

“We’ll be ostracized,” he said between bites of a chicken burger. “A lot of little freshmen won’t survive in a big tank. We won’t be treated the same.”

Freshman Philip Bowers said students are bound to miss out on athletic opportunities at Mattanawcook.

“A lot of us won’t make the basketball team,” he said.

Jennifer Plourde, also a freshman, said academics will suffer. “Classes are better when they’re smaller,” she said.

Besides, Plourde added, “the people in Lincoln don’t want us there” any more than Howland wants to be there.

Sitting in the same school he attended almost 50 years ago, Carl Cloukey said the district should look at “every avenue” to keep PVHS open, whether repairing the old facility or building a smaller version of what had been originally planned.

“We had a big dream. Maybe we shouldn’t have dreamed so big,” he said.