When people talk about Centralia High School, their minds often go to the storied traditions of the Orphans and the Annies, the pride that fills the gym on a Friday night, or the accomplishments of alumni who have carried that pride far and wide. But just across the parking lot, in a place known simply as the Annex, another kind of tradition has been built over the past 15 years—one rooted in compassion, resilience, and a belief that every student deserves a chance to find success. At the center of it all is Principal Travis Cameron.

Cameron has spent his entire professional life in special education, beginning as a teacher in the mid-1990s and moving steadily into administrative roles. Since 2010, he has served not only as Principal of the Annex but also as Director of Special Education for the entire district. “You’ve got to build your team to make everybody successful,” he says, and it’s clear that his leadership has always been about collective strength rather than the spotlight.

The Annex exists because Centralia recognized that students with behavioral or emotional disabilities needed a place where their individual needs could be met with structure, patience, and dignity. Before the Annex, students were sent miles away to outside programs. Cameron recalls that at one point, Centralia was sending more than 20 students to Bronson Education Center. “We knew there had to be a better way,” he says. The district decided to invest in its own facility—an investment that has paid off in ways that can’t always be measured in dollars.

Today, about 65 students are served daily at the Annex. Some are Centralia residents. Others come from group homes or partner districts under the umbrella of the Kaskaskia Special Education District. The needs vary widely—emotional disabilities, autism spectrum diagnoses, developmental delays—but the approach is consistent: individualized attention, rigorous accountability, and a commitment to growth.

The staff, numbering more than 40 for those 65 students, includes teachers certified in emotional disabilities, classroom aides, a full-time social worker, a nurse, custodial support, cooks, and even four security personnel. It’s a ratio that reflects the intensity of the work. “If one person’s not doing their job, it shows,” Cameron explains. “And it does.” But the energy in the building is far from punitive—it is restorative, hopeful, and designed to meet kids where they are.

Central to the program is a five-level system that helps students track their progress. Level One begins with a highly structured environment, but by Level Five, students may transition back to the main campus and into traditional classes. Some embrace that chance eagerly. Others find comfort in the smaller, safer environment of the Annex and choose to stay. Either way, the system creates opportunity. And through it all, students are never cut off from the wider school community. “You can be on the football team, be a cheerleader, go to prom, join robotics,” Cameron says. “Anything a student at the main campus can do, you can do—so long as you’re meeting expectations.”

For Cameron, the work has always been about inclusion, not separation. He bristles when people refer to Annex students as “the bad kids.” “We’ve got just as many challenges here as in any other building,” he insists. The difference is that the Annex is structured to address those challenges head-on, to teach life skills, and to give students tools they may not have received elsewhere—whether it’s how to manage conflict, how to look someone in the eye with confidence, or even how to balance a checkbook.

Though born and raised in the small town of Bluford, Cameron has called Centralia home for nearly three decades. His daughters even graduated as proud Orphans, making the connection to this community deeply personal. And while he plans to retire in 2029, alongside Superintendent Dr. Chuck Lane and longtime administrator Dr. ReidMary Shipley, his imprint on Centralia will last far beyond that date.

What stands out most about Cameron is his humility. Ask him about the success of the Annex, and he will point not to himself but to his secretary, who has been with him since the building opened, or to the teachers who pursue additional training on autism, or to the aides who provide daily structure and encouragement to students who need it most. “It takes everybody,” he says simply.

That spirit of teamwork, so familiar in a community that values basketball as much as farming, runs through every word he speaks. “Your high school career is not just about going to class and going home every day,” Cameron says. “Find something to do—sports, clubs, organizations. It makes your high school career so much more fun.”

For the students at the Annex, finding something to do begins with finding themselves. Under Travis Cameron’s steady leadership, the Annex is more than a building across the parking lot—it is a bridge back into community, a place where every young person has the chance to be seen, supported, and reminded that they belong.