Representative Governance
November 11, 2014
A man in a hot air balloon, realizing he was lost, lowered the balloon to shout to a fellow on the ground: “The wind’s blown me off course. Can you tell me where I am?”
The man on the ground replied, “Sure. You’re hovering about 90 feet over this wheat field.”
The balloonist yelled, “You must be an engineer.”
“I am,” the man replied. “How did you know?”
“Well, everything you told me is technically correct but of absolutely no use.”
The engineer retorted, “You’re an executive, right?”
“How did you know?” the balloonist responded.
“Well, you were drifting in no particular direction before you asked for my help, and you’re still lost; but now it’s my fault.”
In addition to making me chuckle, that story reminds me that the world is very likely a much richer place when it has both bird’s-eye and on-the-ground perspectives. It is certainly true that our understanding of issues and answers in school sport is better when both views are voiced.
This reasoning is the basis for inviting any representative of a member school to serve on the MHSAA’s governing body, the Representative Council. Unlike many other states, seats at the MHSAA’s table are not limited to superintendents or to principals.
Throughout most of the MHSAA’s history, there has been a nearly equal balance of superintendents, principals, athletic directors and others on the 19-member Representative Council. However, in recent years the balance has shifted decidedly toward athletic directors, as superintendents have become increasingly occupied with keeping school districts afloat financially and principals are increasingly consumed with demonstrating improving student test scores.
The MHSAA’s Constitution provides for an election system that assures good diversity of school size and location on the Representative Council. The Constitution also provides for an appointment process that is intended to improve gender and minority membership on the Council. That provision is also being used to recruit superintendents and principals back to our table. We need policymakers who see things with a wide angle view as much as we need policymakers who see the daily details of school sports up close.
In An Instant
August 4, 2015
The icebergs that enter the harbors along Newfoundland’s north shore started to form thousands of years ago. They broke from ice flows 10 times their size and then got caught in a current that carried them on a 1,000-mile, two-year journey to “Iceberg Alley.” Some of them drift into harbors and, with seven-eighths of their mass below the surface, they get grounded. Eventually they break apart and disappear.
My wife and I “discovered” one of these grounded ‘bergs near the shore of cozy little Coffee Cove. After a 15-minute hike, we got closer to this sparkling monster than third base is to home plate. We each snapped dozens of pictures.
Just as we were turning to begin our hike back to “civilization,” we heard what we thought was a loud gunshot. But what actually occurred was a portion of the iceberg breaking off and falling into the water.
What we had taken pictures of moments earlier no longer existed as it had at that time. In an instant, the iceberg had changed, without respect for the thousands of years in the making and the hundreds of miles of traveling.
A few days after we returned to Michigan, Rich Tompkins died, apparently healthy, just after waterskiing. Death came without respect for the miles Rich had traveled to serve student-athletes and coaches, and without regard to all the victories his teams had earned and MHSAA championships they had won.
I last saw Rich on Valentine’s Day at the first-ever Fremont High School Hall of Fame induction banquet where Rich and many of his athletes were honored. The pictures taken that night are of people and circumstances that can never be reassembled.
We need to more fully appreciate the miracle of such moments. They can be gone in an instant.