Reading the Feb.19 Marshall Independent article about the final Marshall gymnastics meet was heartbreaking. Not just as a parent, but as someone who has watched these girls work tirelessly to build something meaningful.

Gymnastics was not a failing program. It was not declining. It was not stagnant.

It was growing.

This was a young team — mostly seventh and eighth graders. A program that was clearly rebuilding from the ground up. And what did they do? They improved every single meet. Their top four scores came in the final four competitions of the season. They posted a season-best 118.9 at sections — eight points higher than their first meet.

That is not a program in decline. That is a program gaining momentum.

Yet it is the lone varsity sport being cut.

The district has cited $1.8 million in reductions for the 2026-27 school year. I  understand that hard financial decisions must be made when a referendum fails. No one is pretending that budgets are simple.

But when you look at the athletic budget, it raises difficult questions.

Other sports continue to receive substantial allocations — equipment budgets, tournament travel budgets, contracted services, capital outlay — while gymnastics, one of the lowest roster-cost programs with limited equipment replacement needs compared to field sports, was eliminated entirely.

Why was gymnastics the only varsity sport cut?

Why was a program filled almost entirely with middle school athletes — athletes who represent the future of the program — not given the opportunity to grow into upperclass leaders?

Gymnastics is not just another sport. It is discipline. It is strength. It is mental resilience. It is hours in the gym when no one is watching. It is girls learning to fall and get back up — literally and figuratively.

These athletes were building something special.

And instead of being supported at the very moment they were flourishing, the door was closed.

For the seventh graders who just got their first taste of varsity competition.
For the eighth graders who were dreaming of being captains.
For the underclassmen who improved meet after meet.
For the upperclassman who led them.

We tell our students that hard work pays off. That commitment matters. That growth matters.

What message are we sending when the program that shows clear progress is the one eliminated?

This is not about anger for the sake of anger. It is about fairness. It is about transparency. It is about asking whether every alternative was truly explored before ending a program that was on the rise.

If budgets demand sacrifice, then those decisions should be equitable and clearly justified — especially when they affect young athletes who have poured their hearts into representing their school.

These girls deserved better.

— Jennifer DeRuyter is a Marshall resident