Not the Critic
February 22, 2014
It is predictable; and it’s petty, not profound. Almost without exception, when a rule is enforced in one situation, the MHSAA will be criticized for not pursuing a similar penalty in other cases.
Of course, the critic is apt to draw parallels where they don’t exist. The critic is likely to assume facts that are not correct, and likely to call for the MHSAA to apply rules that the critic misunderstands, and to assess penalties that are in no one’s authority to impose. The critic can be unbothered by truth, accuracy and accountability. We cannot.
To be honest, MHSAA staff members have often been frustrated that the rules as they are written have no way to stop a particular transfer, or that people will not give testimony to enable a finding of undue influence. The reality is that rules cannot be written to stop everything bad without interfering with very much that is not bad.
And it is equally true that many people who have condemning information do not have the courage to share that information. And that some school administrators are too busy to get involved in such messiness. And that other school administrators are only too happy to have a malcontent athlete or parent move to another school.
Even at risk of irritating member school colleagues, the MHSAA ignores no allegations of violations by its member schools, their personnel or their students, even though we know that very many will be without merit – sometimes an innocent misunderstanding, other times a personal vendetta. And we know there may be just as many situations going unnoticed by or unreported to MHSAA staff.
And we also know that even when we do our job and we get it right – which is almost all the time – we may still be criticized by those who either have a personal agenda or do not have all the facts.
What is also true but unknown to the critic is the frequency with which MHSAA staff works proactively with schools to avoid problems, and how often MHSAA staff works privately with schools which self-report and quickly penalize their own constituents. A high percentage of violations have little publicity because we are intentional in efforts to keep a low profile for the unsavory side of educational athletics, and to keep the spotlight on the achievements of young people.
Towns Without Schools
September 18, 2015
"I forget the names of towns without rivers" is the opening line of a poem by Richard Hugo published in 1984, and recited by my fly fisherman son as he guided me on the Muskegon River last month.
My son thinks about rivers, while I think about schools. And my mind quickly converted the poetic line to, "I forget the names of towns without schools." I do. And I don't think I'm alone in this sentiment.
As I drive the length and width of Michigan's two peninsulas, I pass through many towns where school buildings have been converted to other uses or, more often, sit idle, surrounded by under-used commercial areas and vacant housing. I tend to forget the names of those towns.
Schools have been the anchor to, and given identity to, small towns throughout Michigan, and to the neighborhoods of larger towns. As schools have consolidated during the past two generations, many of the towns that lost their schools have also lost their identity and much of their vitality. The school consolidation movement that stripped towns and neighborhoods of their "brand" was supposed to improve access to broader and deeper curriculum choices for students and reduce the financial costs of delivering world-class education to local classrooms.
That's admirable. But of course, that thinking preceded the Internet which now allows students attending schools of any size in any place to receive any subject available in any other place in our state, nation or the world, and to do so without students being bused hither and yon and at much lower overhead compared to past delivery systems.
If we want to rejuvenate our state, returning schools to the center of small towns and neighborhoods will be central to our strategy. Both the technology and the teaching are available to do so in every corner of our state. It's the money spent on transporting children that's wasted; not the money on teaching those children in neighborhood facilities.