Different Treatment

February 25, 2014

In a perfect world we would treat every transfer student in the exact same way. We would declare every transfer student from anywhere to anywhere eligible immediately. Or we would declare every transfer student from anywhere to anywhere ineligible for a period of time that applied identically to everyone; there would be no exceptions for any student.

But educators who have been conducting interscholastic programs in every state across the country have determined that “one size doesn’t fit all.” One single rule, with no exceptions, doesn’t work. It’s either too lenient in some cases or it’s too limiting in others.

So every state high school association has developed a general policy – that students who are new to a school are not immediately eligible for interscholastic athletics; and every state high school association in the country has made exceptions to that general rule for certain students and modified the period of ineligibility for other students.

Different treatment for different students is inherent in every state association’s transfer rule. Different treatment is not only reasonable; it’s inescapable.

It is not unfair to treat some students differently than others. Very often it’s the only way to promote and protect fairness in school-sponsored sports.

Making a Statement

June 17, 2015

Amid the horrific destruction of Baghdad, the conductor of the Iraqi National Symphony Orchestra, Karim Wasfi, is making a statement. Mr. Wasfi has been carrying a chair and his beloved cello to the exact locations where violence occurs, very shortly after it occurs, and he plays.

With the roar of car bombs still ringing in ears and rubble still smoking, Wasfi plays. He told National Public Radio: “The other side chose to turn every element, every aspect of life in Iraq into a battle zone. I chose to turn every corner of Iraq into a spot for civility, beauty and compassion.”

The response of this single citizen to the catastrophic chaos in his city and country is especially powerful because of the beauty of his music amidst the brutality of civil war; but neither his gift nor the jolting juxtaposition should cause us to miss the message that our response to overwhelming problems could be and should be like his, even if less newsworthy from the perspective of a national radio broadcast. For example ...

  • We can wring our hands in despair that the Earth’s increasingly polluted air, land and waters are so far gone and the problem is of such great scale that nothing we could ever do will change things; or, we can choose to turn every corner of our little slice of the physical world into a less polluted place. We can make a statement.

  • We can weep over the slaughter of elephants, the leveling of mountains or the razing of forests or jungles by crooks or corporations that cannot see the consequences of their reckless avarice; or, we can choose to make our neighborhoods spots of beauty, conservation and sustainability. A statement.

  • We can cry ourselves to sleep over humanity’s inhumanity to those who look, dress or worship differently; or, we can choose to make our little community a welcoming place for refugees where long-suffering and persecuted people can feel safe and hopeful. A statement.

  • And we can become frustrated that the values of school sports are so regularly undermined by the excesses of youth, college, professional and international sports that it feels hopeless to hang onto what we believe; or, we can choose to devote ourselves to maintaining our little niche of the sports world as a more principled place ... where scholarship, sportsmanship, safety and a sensible scope are recognizable and reliable core values. A statement.

The great conductor carrying his chair and cello to the rubble is real. It’s also a metaphor which reminds the rest of us of other daunting problems and the opportunity each individual person has to make a meaningful response – a clear statement – where we live, work and play.