School Overload
January 29, 2016
I don’t know how school administrators and local boards of education do it. Every year, pressure increases on them to improve student performance in core subjects, while every year, lawmakers and government agencies try to make schools the place to solve, or at least respond to, more of society’s problems.
Expanding definitions of disabilities have required expanding public school responses. School employees now must be trained to respond to a myriad of student allergies. Schools have been made the place to address drug abuse, bullying, sexting, drunk driving, sudden cardiac arrest, seat belt use and much more.
This would be okay – in fact, it would be really good because it would solidify that the local school is the center of each and every community. But if schools are not given the resources to both improve student academic performance and address every threat to student health and safety, then no more should be asked of schools.
Right now our Michigan Legislature has dozens of bills that would make new demands on local schools. Most of these bills, on their own and in a vacuum, would be good – like the requirement that schools provide curriculum and professional development in warning signs for suicide and depression, and the requirement that students be certified in CPR before they graduate high school.
But until schools are given more time and money to perform current mandates, it’s time for legislators to put new bills in their back pockets and for government agencies to back off.
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?