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.
Friday Night Football
September 23, 2016
There continues to be among high school athletic administrators a great gnashing of teeth over encroachment of televised college football on the Friday night turf that long tradition reserves for high school football games. Little by little and year by year, college games drift to all times of the day and all days of the week, and Friday night is no longer hallowed ground for the high school game alone.
The Friday night intercollegiate fare remains mostly irrelevant games by second tier teams, but televised nonetheless because of the overabundance of production entities and networks seeking live sports events. But high school leadership is right to be on guard.
Known to very few people is a million dollar offer in the 1970s by then NCAA Executive Director Walter Byers to the National Federation of State High School Associations if it would not oppose televised college football games on Friday nights. Clifford Fagan, then executive director of the National Federation, declined the offer from his good friend; and the mutual respect these two men enjoyed brought an end to the negotiation.
Then, as now, the National Football League was prohibited by law (part of its anti-trust exception) from televising games on Friday nights and Saturdays from mid-September through mid-December where the broadcast would conflict with a live high school or college game. Under Byers, and until the NCAA lost control of intercollegiate football broadcasting as a result of a legal challenge by what was then called the College Football Association, college football leadership voluntarily gave high school football the same deference on Friday nights that the NFL did under federal law.
Today, major college football is such a ravenous revenue beast that it will schedule play at any time on any day in any location, televising every game – on college conference-controlled networks if the matchup is not attractive enough for national or even regional broadcasts. The Friday night high school football tradition can expect to be trampled as college football swarms and grunts around the feed trough like hungry hogs.