Is a Future Possible?

September 8, 2011

While interviewing candidates for a staff position, we posed the question:  “What will school sports look like a generation from now?”  And we followed up with:  “What will the MHSAA need to do to be of relevant service in that future?”

In a follow-up interview with one of the leading candidates, when I invited questions, that candidate turned the tables and asked me what I thought school sports and the MHSAA would look like in 10 or 20 years.

These exchanges, and all that has been changing as school districts chop away at school budgets and programs, has me wondering if a future is possible for school sports.  But the answer is almost certainly “Yes.” 

School sports have survived two World Wars, the Korean War and Vietnam, as well as the Great Depression and multiple recessions.  School sports has existed before and after interstates and the Internet, before and after suburban sprawl and space exploration, before and after television and Twitter, before and after . . . well, you get the point.

Will school sports change?  Certainly.  But if history is a good indicator, it will change more slowly than the society around it.  And many people will cherish that gap.

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.