Garfield Re-2 Superintendent Reflects on Pride and People as Schools Wrap Up

The air in a high school hallway in June has a specific weight to it. It smells of floor wax, stale coffee, and the nervous sweat of final exams. You hear the screech of sneakers on polished concrete, the rustle of papers being packed into overstuffed backpacks, and the low hum of a community holding its breath, waiting for the bell to ring on another chapter.

Garfield Re-2 is feeling that energy.

As the school year wraps up, Superintendent (whoever holds the title this year, the column doesn’t specify a name, just "I") is taking a moment to look back. Not with a critical eye at the budget spreadsheets or the standardized test scores, but with something warmer. Pride.

"This time of year always carries a special energy in our schools," the superintendent writes. "Hallways are filled with countdowns, classrooms are wrapping up final projects, and campuses are alive with field days, concerts, art displays, awards ceremonies and the excitement that comes with finishing another chapter and preparing for the next."

It’s a nice sentiment. It’s the kind of thing you say when you want to remind the taxpayers that their money is going somewhere tangible. And it is. The district is celebrating nearly 300 graduates from Rifle High School and Coal Ridge High School. For Coal Ridge, this class is believed to be the largest in the school’s history. That’s a milestone. That’s a significant cohort of kids. That’s a lot of future voters, future workers, future neighbors.

But here’s the thing though: the column is less about the metrics and more about the people. The superintendent notes that the strength of Garfield Re-2 lies not in a single program or initiative, but in the people. It’s a subtle shift from the usual "look at our new STEM lab" narrative. This is about the shared commitment from the cafeteria line to the bus stop. It’s about staff and families showing up consistently.

"We have learned so much about this amazing district," the superintendent says. "I have had the opportunity to visit classrooms, attend performances and competitions, celebrate student accomplishments, meet with staff and families, and experience firsthand the pride that exists across our schools and communities."

It’s a first-year review. A check-in. And the verdict is positive. The focus is on the "deep level of care people have for one another." That’s a lot of abstraction for a budget-conscious community, but it’s the glue that holds a rural district together when the weather turns bad or the funding gets tight.

The transition isn’t just for the seniors heading to college, the military, or the workforce. It’s for the kindergarteners finishing their first year. It’s for the fifth graders preparing for middle school. It’s for the eighth graders eyeing high school. Every building is a site of these small, critical next steps.

And then there’s the quiet honor roll. The column highlights 21 retirees. Twenty-one people who have dedicated their careers to serving students, families, and colleagues. Together, they represent 424 years of service. That’s not just a number. It’s over four centuries of chalk dust, lesson plans, and parent-teacher conferences. It’s a reflection of the institutional memory that still walks the halls, even if they’ve retired.

The superintendent wraps it up by noting that graduates carry with them experiences, relationships, and lessons built throughout their years in Re-2. It’s a nice sentiment. It’s the kind of thing you say when you want to remind the community that the work is done, the kids are ready, and the adults did their job.

Outside the school gates, the sun is setting over the Rockies. The buses are emptying. The hallways are quieting down. For a few weeks, the countdowns will be gone. The final projects will be graded. And the community will wait for the next bell to ring.