The Long View
May 8, 2012
“. . . when you start fretting the day-to-day, you lose track of the long view,” says the protagonist in Charles Frazier’s latest novel Nightwoods.
It’s easy to do. Easy to get tied up in daily concerns and controversies that cloud our ability to concentrate on long-term goals and objectives and the big themes that should be apparent in our daily activities.
Day-to-day fretting causes heartburn for investors who ignore their long-term investment strategies and goals. It sidetracks businesses which lose track of long-term goals for the sake of boosting a quarterly earnings report. It affects politicians who, while keeping an eye on polls, take their eye off their principles. It’s probably taking a toll on school administrators who feel compelled to improve students’ test scores more than to infuse students with a passion to be lifelong learners.
I’m aware of some in our work who are able to refocus on the long view by getting away from the daily grind; but I know others who find the best way to refocus on the meaning and purpose of our work is to go to an event. Just be a spectator where you’re not on duty, not responsible for anything. To observe the action and emotion and school/community spirit. To see a coach counsel a dejected player. To watch an official make a tough call with perfect mechanics and people skills.
The day-to-day fretting may not disappear, but it gets placed in a much better perspective. The long view.
Crisis Coaching
June 14, 2013
On the highway outside my office window last week, there was a traffic accident that involved two 2012 graduates of a mid-Michigan high school. One was killed, the other appears to be recovering from serious injuries. The young men had been on their way to work.
The next morning’s newspaper coverage – in the news section, not the sports pages – revolved around the boys’ high school football coach. He told the reporter about his former players’ character and their dreams, and what a difficult day he had spent with their families. Later, local television stations made this coach their go-to person for updates.
This plays out so often: a family faces a crisis, and a coach is quickly on the scene. The best part of coaching – close and even lifelong relationships with players – becomes the toughest – being physically present when those players or their families need support.
It has played out so often in my experience that I can’t imagine what is lost in our schools as interscholastic coaching positions are farmed out to volunteers, or programs are eliminated altogether. I can’t imagine what is lost in the lives of students, and many of their families.
The richest part of coaching is relationships, which are often most revealed during the worst circumstances.