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.
Volleyball Faceoff
July 14, 2015
The 96th Annual Summer Meeting of the National Federation of State High School Associations overlapped dates and shared hotels, restaurants and sidewalks with the USA Volleyball 2015 Girls Junior National Championships during late June and early July in New Orleans.
This mega-tournament drew fields of 24 to 72 teams in each of 30 divisions, with each of the approximately 1,000 teams paying from $650 to $900, providing an attractive payday for USAV. In addition, this was a dreaded “stay and play” tournament that required teams to book rooms at the designated hotels that provided kickbacks to the organizers.
USAV raked in the dollars which the parents I spoke to seemed only mildly distressed to pay because they had bought into the fantasy that this sort of extravagance is necessary to help their daughter reach the “next level.”
Next level? Some of these parents couldn’t even find the next court for their daughter’s match among the 80 courts on which competition was held, and missed parts of matches they had paid hundreds of dollars in club and travel expenses to attend. This was about quantity of teams, much more than quality of experience.
And what, after all, is the next level for a girl playing on an “Under 13 Team” ... Under 14?
If the “next level” means college volleyball, then parents haven’t been told of the lottery-like odds they face. Making any college team that offers any financial aid based on volleyball skill is a mere fantasy for almost every girl and it’s a futile strategy for those parents to fund their daughter’s college education.
In sharp contrast, I’m reassured that we’ve got it right in school-based volleyball, where the focus is on scholarship in high school, not athletic scholarships to college; on learning in many practices more than competing in many tournaments; on local events, not national travel; where MHSAA tournaments are free to enter, and matches are conducted one at a time on the arena’s one and only court, with the school’s student section cheering the team on.