
Flathead High School speech coach wins Assistant Coach of the Year
Mar. 7—Flathead High School's Scott O'Donnell was selected as Assistant Coach of the Year for the Montana West District of the National Speech and Debate Association.
He will be up for the National Assistant Coach of the Year, which will be awarded during the national speech and debate tournament in June.
Scott O'Donnell said the award means a lot and is validation that the work he's doing is making an impact.
"It's one of those of those things as a teacher you don't always know if you're doing good for kids. As a coach, it's proof I did something for a community I care about. It's really an honor. There are so many coaches out there who deserve it and put in so much time and effort," he said.
Nominated by fellow Flathead speech and debate coach, teaching colleague and father, Sean O'Donnell described him as an enthusiastic coach.
"Like many coaches, Scott brings enthusiasm to every practice and tournament and deeply believes in speech and debate. However, his greatest strength is his recognition that we do speech and debate not for trophies, but for the way it changes lives every single day," Sean O'Donnell stated in the nomination letter.
A 2020 Flathead graduate, Scott O'Donnell coaches the same short prep events he competed in as a student — extemporaneous speaking and impromptu speaking — for the junior varsity squad. It is his first year coaching at Flathead and he previously coached the Hellgate High School team for three years while attending college.
"These are the events I have the most experience in and I want to pass on that knowledge to the next generation of competitors," he said.
Sean O'Donnell noted his special skillset in drawing out the talent of "highly independent" albeit "rascally boys."
"Beyond competitive success, one of Scott's cornerstone beliefs is that speech and debate will help competitors become better people," Sean O'Donnell said.
"Scott's special talent is that he is able to corral these students to be within the guideposts of good behavior, while still allowing them the independence to find joy in the activity. Both at Flathead and at Hellgate, he has developed the relationships to help those students grow and mature, a gift that will help them for years to come," he noted.
Scott was also described as an innovator who thinks outside the box when helping individual students find success.
"There is no question that Scott O'Donnell's students have had a tremendous amount of success. In his first three years at Hellgate High School, he took a nearly non-existent short prep squad and made it one of the more competitive squads in the state. For the past two years, Maxime Diaz has consistently been a finalist in extemporaneous speaking and was a 2024 NSDA (National Speech and Debate Association) qualifier in extemporaneous speaking. This year, the two students from Flathead that Scott worked with the most extensively were respectively the highest-placing finalists in extemporaneous and impromptu speaking at state.
"Although a young coach, he is already making his mark on the competitive success of his squads," Sean O'Donnell said.
Reporter Hilary Matheson may be reached at 758-4431 or hmatheson@dailyinterlake.com.
Hashtags

Try Our AI Features
Explore what Daily8 AI can do for you:
Comments
No comments yet...
Related Articles


Hamilton Spectator
4 days ago
- Hamilton Spectator
Fire damages Cheakamus Centre Longhouse, programs relocated
Education programs hosted at the Cheakamus Centre Longhouse will be moved to outdoor cabins this month, as the June 4 roof fire continues to be investigated. Though not related to the current Dryden Creek wildfire, another fire has had an impact on local programming. On June 4, the Cheakamus Centre Longhouse was damaged in an internal fire, leaving the roof damaged on the inside. There were no injuries. The centre, which is owned by the North Vancouver School District, hosts overnight field and cultural Indigenous education, to foster values such as community building and land stewardship for both children and adults. It is based in Paradise Valley on 165 hectares of ecological reserve belonging to the Sḵwx̱wú7mesh Úxwumixw (Squamish Nation). When fire broke out, students on the property were moved to the muster point and then into outdoor school cabins instead of the longhouse, where the program would have otherwise continued. 'At that time, there weren't any students in the [Longhouse],' Chloe Scott, communications manager at North Vancouver School District, told The Squamish Chief. 'They did have a student group attending programming [on site] from one of the North Vancouver school district elementary schools, and so all students were taken to the muster point and then moved over to the outdoor school cabins so their programming could continue, but not at the Longhouse site for sure.' Currently, the fire's cause is under investigation and remains unknown. 'There is a fire that burns in the middle of the Longhouse,' Scott said. 'We believe it was a spark that ignited, but we can't say for certain.' Scott confirmed that the Centre's Longhouse will remain closed for programming until the end of this month, and that school groups that were booked in for those specific programs are being accommodated elsewhere, such as the Cheakamus Environmental Learning Centre. Regarding the evacuation itself, Scott said that everyone handled it with 'utmost professionalism,' including the students. 'It was an experience for them, but everyone was in really good care. There were a number of staff members who really stepped up to make sure that everything ran well, and that the disruption was kept at a minimum,' she said. The Cheakamus Centre, which was established in 1969 and formerly known as the North Vancouver Outdoor School, has always been a place of learning for the Chʼiyáḵmesh people who have passed on their knowledge from the site. Its programs include nature-based and outdoor activities aligned with the BC curriculum, alongside numerous retreats and workshops. Folks can find more information or sign up for the centre's newsletter on its website. Ina Pace is The Squamish Chief's Local Journalism Initiative (LJI) Reporter. This reporting was produced through the LJI, which supports original civic journalism across Canada. Error! Sorry, there was an error processing your request. There was a problem with the recaptcha. Please try again. You may unsubscribe at any time. By signing up, you agree to our terms of use and privacy policy . This site is protected by reCAPTCHA and the Google privacy policy and terms of service apply. Want more of the latest from us? Sign up for more at our newsletter page .


Boston Globe
4 days ago
- Boston Globe
Why Pride Month will always matter
Advertisement We loved each other behind closed doors, initially planning our future without ever saying the word 'boyfriend' publicly. That's what you do when growing up gay in a world that teaches you to hide. Get Starting Point A guide through the most important stories of the morning, delivered Monday through Friday. Enter Email Sign Up And then one day, I found Scott. Lifeless, at the bottom of a pool. The autopsy called it an accidental drowning. But for me, his death left behind more questions than answers. He was 27. I was 26. I came out in a Facebook post later that day. Not because I was ready, but because I couldn't pretend anymore. I couldn't grieve for my boyfriend when I couldn't call him that. I couldn't live in a closet that had just turned into a tomb. Even then, some people seemed more focused on my being gay than the fact that the love of my life had died. One of Scott's relatives told me to my face — just days after his death — that 'homosexuality isn't natural.' I was barely functioning and suddenly being forced to defend my existence in the middle of overwhelming grief. Advertisement As Scott's obituary was being written, I was at first listed only as 'his friend' but asked his family to change that to 'partner.' I'm deeply grateful they did. That I had to advocate for myself says everything about the quiet, exhausting grief queer people carry. We're not just mourning the person, we're mourning the silence we were forced to live in. That's the cost of shame. That's the price of hiding. And that's why Pride Month still matters. I n the years that followed, I tried to outrun the pain. I worked obsessively to build a business from scratch, convincing myself that if I achieved enough, performed enough, I'd finally feel worthy. But I was building coping mechanisms, not success. Eventually, I lost it all. I went bankrupt. Underneath the rubble of my business wasn't just financial failure — it was the little boy who never believed he was enough. Who learned early that being himself was something to hide or somehow overcome with professional accomplishments. We don't talk enough about what the closet does to people. I went to an all-boys Catholic high school, where I didn't build any lasting friendships. No one was overtly cruel to me — people were actually pretty kind. Yet I kept a safe distance, afraid that if I let anyone too close, they'd see through the version of myself I had learned to perform. I wasn't bullied but I was invisible. Advertisement In the draft of our senior yearbook, I was voted 'Biggest Non-Conformist.' I was so ashamed I begged the editor to take it out (he did). I thought they were mocking me, calling me the weird gay guy. Now, I see that they weren't insulting me. They were acknowledging that I was different — they were giving me a compliment. I just wasn't ready to accept that being different could be a good thing. I walked the hallways feeling a few layers removed from everyone else — constantly putting on an act, never fully present. That experience rewired how I moved through the world. Later, I became someone who always went the extra mile for bosses, for boyfriends, for friends who didn't always reciprocate. I chased wealth and admiration as if they were the antidote to the thing I was too ashamed to say out loud. The distance between myself and others didn't just cause me to miss out on teenage romance. I missed out on myself. Participants cheer at the start of the Boston Pride Parade in 2019. Craig F. Walker/Globe Staff Today, when I see politicians banning books, erasing history about the gay rights movement, and calling education about LGBTQ+ topics 'grooming,' I don't just see a political strategy. I see the infliction of damage. Let's talk about grooming, then. Because I was groomed, too — to be straight. I was groomed by every TV show that told me boys only marry girls. By every classroom that pretended people like me didn't exist. By every adult who said, 'You'll meet a nice girl someday,' before I had the chance to discover who I was. That's grooming. It's just the kind we've normalized. What grooms kids into shame is erasure. It's growing up not seeing yourself represented in books. It's being told, through silence or scorn, that who you are, and who you love, is inappropriate. That your family is 'too political.' That your hand holding and kisses should be kept private or at least 'not shoved in our faces.' Advertisement When we talk to children about families that have two moms, or two dads, or one parent, or chosen family — it's not about sex. It's about visibility. It's about the kid with two dads seeing themselves in a book and thinking, I belong here. It's about giving every child the gift of empathy, not confusion. I didn't get that growing up. I don't believe Scott did either. And that's why Pride is as important as ever. It is not just a parade or a party. It's a protest. It's a memorial. It's a lifeline. It's for the ones who came out late. For the ones who never got to come out at all. For the queer kids in classrooms across the country who are being told their truth is inappropriate or wrong or bad. And for the adults who still carry the consequences of their silence. Today, I'm proud to say I'm happily married to an incredible man. But it took 10 years of therapy and a lot of trauma to finally get here. I'm 36, and I still feel emotionally underdeveloped in some ways. That's the damage shame can do. My husband didn't come out to his family until he was 29. He was 34 when we started dating; I was his first boyfriend. We're both learning how to love out loud. We're unlearning the kinds of choices you make for survival. Advertisement So when someone rolls their eyes and says, 'Why do we still need Pride?' this is what I want to say: Because silence kills. Because shame ruins lives. Because being gay is a gift but only if the world lets you unwrap it. And because I loved a man who never felt fully safe being himself, in a world still learning how to accept people like us. Rest in peace, Scott. A.J. MacQuarrie is a growth strategist and sales leader who helps others navigate growth with purpose. He lives in the Boston area with his husband and their two dogs. Send comments to magazine@


Newsweek
13-06-2025
- Newsweek
Staff Accepts Dogs—Realize They Have Puppy Shelter 'Didn't Mean to Send'
Based on facts, either observed and verified firsthand by the reporter, or reported and verified from knowledgeable sources. Newsweek AI is in beta. Translations may contain inaccuracies—please refer to the original content. A Chicago shelter welcomed in a transfer of puppies from Memphis, but what they discovered was an extra dog among that bunch that didn't belong. Scott runs the Instagram account @4evertails and volunteers at local animal shelters across Chicago. He uses his social media to show off the available dogs in need of forever homes. And his recent day with Pimiento quickly melted hearts. Pimiento, a 4-month-old pit bull mix, lived in a shelter in West Memphis. However, he somehow managed to get "scooped into the wrong squad," the caption on Scott's June 9 Instagram video said. That squad was a litter of puppies that was being transferred to One Tail at a Time, an animal rescue based in Chicago. During Pimiento's day with Scott, the two went out for a walk in the city, where people came up to pet the pup. He made sure people knew Pimiento was available for adoption. Scott showed off the dog's unique stature—short and long, with front paws that bow out. He even snapped pictures of the pup to give him a better shot at adoption, as good photos can help pets get adopted faster and attract potential adopters to shelters, an article from PetFinder states. "[The shelter] had said they would take him back, but One Tail is an incredible organization, and any dog that comes under their care, they will do everything to get adopted," Scott told Newsweek. The Memphis shelter "didn't mean to send" Pimiento along with the puppies, but as it turned out, everything happens for a reason; he has been adopted and is officially off the market. Screenshots from a June 9 Instagram video of a shelter volunteer taking out a 4-month-old puppy after the dog was accidentally transferred to that location. Screenshots from a June 9 Instagram video of a shelter volunteer taking out a 4-month-old puppy after the dog was accidentally transferred to that location. @4evertails/Instagram The Instagram video of Pimiento quickly became a hit, bringing in over 123,000 views and 8,758 likes as of Friday. People fell in love with this pup, calling him the "cutest dog." "I would carry him everywhere. He's amazing," wrote one viewer, to which Scott replied he was doing that on their walk: "His little legs could only get him so far." Another added: "Love his sitting pose, such a cutie pie." A third person commented: "I love the flippers." One Tail at a Time even chimed in: "The sweetest and silliest little guy! Thanks for showing him off." Do you have funny and adorable videos or pictures of your pet you want to share? Send them to life@ with some details about your best friend, and they could appear in our Pet of the Week lineup.