Choosing a high school in this region has become a walk through the buffet line, children and their parents studying the options with a chess champion's concentration. Magnet school? Private school? Agri-Science? Marine sciences? Regular old high school?

The choices, in addition to the public high school in your town: New London Science and Technology Magnet School, the Marine Science High School of Southeastern Connecticut in Groton, Grasso Tech, Ledyard High School's Agri-Science program, Norwich Tech, St. Bernard, the Williams School, Academy of the Holy Family, St. Thomas More, Arts at the Capitol Theater Magnet School in Willimantic, and Three Rivers Middle College High School.

It's a competition.

And I fear New London is going to lose.

And it bothers me deeply.

I've never made this a secret: The greatest educational experience of my life has been covering sports at New London High School. Getting to know the kids and coaches turned a myopic, sheltered twentysomething into a more aware and tolerant soul. I've made lifelong friendships with kids who, just by being who they are, opened another world to me.

So this comes from somebody who has told their stories and covered the games for the last 25 years and wants to tell them for 25 more.

I don't trust this evolving, all-magnet plan for New London schools. Frankly, I don't see the "new" high school as much of an option, given the aforementioned choices.

I've asked friends, teachers and administrators in the past two weeks about the new plan that would place sixth graders in the same building — sometimes on the same floor — as high school kids. Their opinions are unanimous: No way.

If this all-magnet plan is based on attracting suburban kids to New London schools to succeed, let me ask this:

The parents of Little Jenny Sixth Grader from Old Lyme are going to send her to New London to share the same space with high school kids?

I'm sorry. It's just not going to happen. We're all aware of how New London and its people are stereotyped already. There are many, many armchair cultural jurists in this region who believe themselves superior to anyone and anything in New London. Draw your own conclusions as to why. Just know how many such people exist.

I wouldn't be thrilled sending my kid to any high school that lumps 11-year-olds with 18-year-olds. Add the vagaries of New London to the equation and how do you not assume abject failure?

I mean, what do sixth graders and 12th graders have in common?

Sixth grader: "I built a sand castle on the beach this weekend!"

Twelfth grader: "I did a keg stand!"

I asked an old friend, a former teacher and coach in the region who has become an educational consultant, about it the other day. He said that 6-12 plans could work, but would "require great leadership."

That's not New London education's best quality.

Think about how the scorecard would read:

How many Central Office executives send their children to New London schools? None.

How many have experience running a building? None.

How many are invested enough to live in New London? Not enough.

And so what would make anyone think they own the skill sets necessary to run a system of this magnitude?

The educational consultant, familiar with the rhythms of New London schools, said, "New London has good leaders in its buildings. But it has a Swiss Cheese Central Office staff. Their lack of experience in running their own buildings is a major issue."

I get that the magnet plans have been altered because of declining funds. But sixth graders and 12th graders in the same school isn't the answer.

New London schools offer plenty. Kids learn diversity through real-life experience, not from a textbook. There's a hallowed athletic program that has united generations. And there are dedicated staffers who care about the kids in ways that never make the papers.

But until city leadership puts their egos aside and hires better personnel — people who truly understand the needs of the kids come first — the future of New London schools is swirling the bowl.

It saddens me deeply.

The kids mean too much.

This is the opinion of Day sports columnist Mike DiMauro