Opportunity Lost
October 25, 2013
This fall as I conducted Update meetings around our state, I met one-on-one with potential candidates for an administrative position the MHSAA has posted in anticipation of Assistant Director Randy Allen’s retirement in early 2014.
This is a part of the slow, personal process we have cultivated during the past 20 years that I credit for gathering our current collection of committed administrators that are excellent in so many ways and a pleasure to work with day-in and day-out.
We last used this process a decade ago in leading us to hire Assistant Directors Mark Uyl and Kathy Westdorp; and realizing that I had not conducted a series of one-on-one discussions in ten years, I have been lamenting great opportunities lost; for these conversations are beneficial in two important ways:
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First, we learn about the lives of many terrific men and women; and I’m forever closer to them as human beings, whether or not they get the job the MHSAA has open.
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Second, we learn of the hopes and fears these experienced people have for educational athletics; and I’m constantly putting their ideas into action at the MHSAA, whether or not they are ever employed at the MHSAA.
But I now lament a huge opportunity lost. Had I taken the time to visit with a colleague after every Update meeting I’ve conducted over the past 28 years, that would have provided more than 200 opportunities to learn about the lives and ideas of these people – the MHSAA’s richest resource.
I read recently that a vibrant organization is one that is always hiring, whether or not there is a job opening. That is, the organization is always interviewing its best people – always learning about them and from them, and is able to tap this resource promptly when opportunities arise.
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.