Preparing the Whole Person

July 8, 2013

During the summer weeks, "From the Director" will bring to you some of our favorite entries from previous years. Today's blog first appeared Feb. 15, 2011.

My hope for students is that they have the opportunity to sample the broad buffet that a comprehensive education provides. That they experience both academic and non-academic programs, and both athletic and non-athletic activities. That they are a starter in one and a substitute in another – even a star in one and a scrub in another. That they perform in both team and individual sports, in solo and ensemble, onstage and backstage. And that they experience both winning and losing in generous proportions.

Any student who feasts on most of that menu will be ready for life – ready for life’s ups and downs and all the changes the future will surely bring.

In an address to Catholic school educators in England, Pope John Paul said:

“. . . the task . . . is not simply to impart information or to provide training in skills intended to deliver some economic benefit to society; education is not and must never be considered as purely utilitarian. It is about forming the human person, equipping him or her to live life to the full . . .”

High scores on standardized tests are terrific and training in vocational skills is desirable (I sincerely wish I had scored highly and could make something with my hands). But neither will save the planet.

The best hope we have for securing this planet for the generations who follow is forming the whole human person. And that is much more likely to occur through diverse and deep curricular and extracurricular programs of full-service schools, delivered by passionate educators.

The Limitation of Rules – Part 1

September 2, 2016

From the age of 10 to 20, my position as a baseball player was catcher. Sometime during that decade I was taught to return the ball to the pitcher with authority, with a snap throw from my ear, targeting the glove-side shoulder of the pitcher.

I caught every inning of every game, including doubleheaders. In those years, there was less concern than today for protecting the arms of pitchers, and there was no thought given to the throwing arms of catchers.

Today, the shoulder of my throwing arm is shot; I cannot throw a ball overhand with any force.

But here’s the thing. I didn’t ruin my throwing arm in youth and school baseball; I wrecked it as an adult doing silly things with a tennis ball on the beach with my teenage son. We had a blast for a summer afternoon, and I’ve paid for it the rest of my life.

The point of this brief baseball bio is to demonstrate an example of the limitations of rules.

We can identify dozens of risks to student-athletes and we can promulgate an equal number of rules to help them avoid injuries in our programs; but we cannot protect them against a lack of common sense in our programs or accidents in other aspects of their lives.

Even if we implement new rules to limit the number of pitches by a player, what good is that if, after reaching the limit, the pitcher and catcher switch positions? Do we need a rule to address that coaching decision too?

Do we need rules that prohibit large students from practicing against small, or experienced players from competing against inexperienced? How would we ever monitor or enforce such rules? Where do rules leave off and common sense take over?

Even if we put players in bubble wrap for sports, what do we do about their decisions away from sports, perhaps in vehicles, with their friends and their cell phones? Where do laws and rules stop, and personal responsibility start?