Cutting Kids

September 25, 2012

As an athlete, I dreaded the days.  Even when I was a returning starter, I approached with anxiety the page taped to the locker room door that would indicate who made the high school basketball team (and, by omission, who didn’t).

As a coach, I refused to do it.  I wasn’t even tempted to cut anybody from my squads.  But I was lucky.  I coached football and golf, and the outdoor practice venues gave us enough room for almost limitless opportunities.

As a parent, I’ve cried over it.  Watching my older son be cut from a non-school basketball program for junior high boys (he switched to wrestling in high school and had a fine career).  Watching my younger son be cut four times from the travel soccer team (he made it on the fifth try and started for his high school freshman and junior varsity soccer teams during the two years after that).

At no time have I been more deeply troubled and saddened than watching the world of sports, to which I devote my working life, say, “No thank you” to my sons, to whom I dedicated my entire life.

As an administrator, I grieve over the process every year.  I listen to complaints of parents.  I watch them go from allies to enemies of high school sports.

Why would we limit squad sizes for outdoor sports?

Why would we cut freshmen who haven’t even matured yet and have only a little idea what they might like or be good at?

Why would we not find room for a senior who has been on the team for three years and continues to have a good attitude and work ethic?

Why would we turn away eligible boys and girls who would rather work and sweat after school than cruise and loiter?

Why do we persist in shutting out and turning against us the parents who would be our advocates today and the students who would be our advocates in the future?

The Pencil Tale

May 25, 2018

I’ve learned to create at the computer keyboard, but my favorite writing experience continues to be by pencil (with eraser), legal pad and a pot of hot coffee. Thus, I’ve enjoyed this anonymous parable of the pencil.

An old pencil maker took his newest pencil aside, just before he was about to pack him into a box. Imagining the little fellow as a person, he recalled a few things about the pencil.

“There are five things you need to know,” he said to his pencil, “before I send you out into the world. Always remember these five things – never forget them – and you will become the best pencil you can be!

“The first thing is to remember that you will be able to do many great things, but only if you put yourself in someone else’s hands.

“From time to time you will experience a painful sharpening, but remember that this will make you a better pencil.

“Also, keep in mind that you will be able to correct any mistakes you might make along the way.

“And the most important part of you is what’s on the inside.

“And remember this, as well, upon every surface that you are used, you must leave your mark. No matter what else happens, you must continue to write.”