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Mandate Mania

January 13, 2017

In the closing days of the last session of the Michigan Legislature, our public servants introduced many bills that had no chance of passage before the year ended and the bills died. Many of those legislative initiatives were to appease local constituents, and they were merely symbolic gestures.

Introduced during this session-ending period when style points matter more than substance were two bills that caught our attention.

  • House Bill No. 6026, introduced on Nov. 9, 2016, would have required public schools to demand at least two hours of instruction concerning sexual assault and sexual harassment prior to every student’s graduation.

  • House Bill No. 6052, introduced on Nov. 29, 2016, would have required public high schools to demand at least 40 hours of instruction on “sustainability and environmental literacy.”

These are not bad things, of course; but I’m concerned about the increasing burden on our schools.

Not all opponents of these bills should be cast critically. Regardless of the importance of the issues, there is a practical limit to what public schools can be expected to do – especially after their resources have shrunk and their school year has been shortened.

Personally, I would like all schools, both public and nonpublic, to teach all children a second language in early elementary school. I would like students to be “drown-proofed” before they reach middle school.

But I want not one of those things mandated without first removing an existing mandate under which our schools are being forced to operate at this time. No entity can do a good job at some things if it’s being asked to do everything.

I wish all members of the Michigan Legislature who have a mandate in mind for our state’s schools will pause to look for an existing mandate to sunset before proposing any new requirements.

Baloney

January 27, 2015

When I was in high school and college I worked a different job each summer, usually looking for hard labor that would help prepare my body for the next football season, and each time confirming that it would not be my choice for lifetime employment. One summer I worked at a lumber yard and paper mill complex along the banks of the Wisconsin River.
Every day I ate lunch with the men who had made this their life’s work; and I grew in ways both positive and negative as I listened to their conversations and tales. We all brought our own lunch pails.
One day, one of the more veteran employees opened his lunchbox and flew into a rage. “I can’t believe it,” he exclaimed. “Baloney again! I hate baloney.”
Trying to calm him down, another worker said, “If you hate baloney so much, just ask your wife to make you something else.”
To which the complainer replied, “That won’t work. I make my own lunches,” which resulted in an uproar of laughter from the rest of us.
I thought of this incident recently as I was preparing to meet with constituents about the rules they most love to hate: policies relating to coach and player contact out of season. Those are our most criticized rules.
But it occurs to me, if we don’t like the sandwich we’re eating – out-of-season coaching rules – we should remember: we made them ourselves, and we can change them. In fact, no one is in a better position to do so than we are. And no one has a greater duty to do so than we have, if we really are in need of a new recipe.