Reunion Reflections

July 23, 2015

Summer is a popular time for high school reunions, and those reunions are a popular time for reliving the accomplishments of high school sports teams of many years ago. Because I played on a winless football team during my junior year of high school, I don’t always take pleasure in such conversations.
However, I have the greatest discomfort when I sense that those reveling in past glory may have peaked in high school. There can be nothing worse, for them or for society.
While on-the-field or court exploits may become exaggerated over time, we may underestimate the intangible benefits that high school sports participation has provided.
Last month the Journal of Leadership & Organizational Studies published new research that links varsity high school athletic participation to future leadership. It suggests that such participation may (it’s not certain) nurture adults who have more self-confidence and self-respect, which are (certainly) linked to leadership.
The research also suggests a link to improved work habits as an employee and to greater philanthropy.
The researcher is Kevin Kniffin of Cornell University who continues to contribute plain talk and practical ideas to the role of extracurricular activities in secondary school education.
This type of research, and the tsunami of F-1 and J-1 visa students from Asian countries for the well-rounded “western” style education, should add to the dissuasion of those who suggest we jettison these “distractions” from junior high/middle schools and high schools.
While some “high school heroes” never were as great as they now think they were, the programs they engaged in may be even greater.

Making a Statement

June 17, 2015

Amid the horrific destruction of Baghdad, the conductor of the Iraqi National Symphony Orchestra, Karim Wasfi, is making a statement. Mr. Wasfi has been carrying a chair and his beloved cello to the exact locations where violence occurs, very shortly after it occurs, and he plays.

With the roar of car bombs still ringing in ears and rubble still smoking, Wasfi plays. He told National Public Radio: “The other side chose to turn every element, every aspect of life in Iraq into a battle zone. I chose to turn every corner of Iraq into a spot for civility, beauty and compassion.”

The response of this single citizen to the catastrophic chaos in his city and country is especially powerful because of the beauty of his music amidst the brutality of civil war; but neither his gift nor the jolting juxtaposition should cause us to miss the message that our response to overwhelming problems could be and should be like his, even if less newsworthy from the perspective of a national radio broadcast. For example ...

  • We can wring our hands in despair that the Earth’s increasingly polluted air, land and waters are so far gone and the problem is of such great scale that nothing we could ever do will change things; or, we can choose to turn every corner of our little slice of the physical world into a less polluted place. We can make a statement.

  • We can weep over the slaughter of elephants, the leveling of mountains or the razing of forests or jungles by crooks or corporations that cannot see the consequences of their reckless avarice; or, we can choose to make our neighborhoods spots of beauty, conservation and sustainability. A statement.

  • We can cry ourselves to sleep over humanity’s inhumanity to those who look, dress or worship differently; or, we can choose to make our little community a welcoming place for refugees where long-suffering and persecuted people can feel safe and hopeful. A statement.

  • And we can become frustrated that the values of school sports are so regularly undermined by the excesses of youth, college, professional and international sports that it feels hopeless to hang onto what we believe; or, we can choose to devote ourselves to maintaining our little niche of the sports world as a more principled place ... where scholarship, sportsmanship, safety and a sensible scope are recognizable and reliable core values. A statement.

The great conductor carrying his chair and cello to the rubble is real. It’s also a metaphor which reminds the rest of us of other daunting problems and the opportunity each individual person has to make a meaningful response – a clear statement – where we live, work and play.