Troublesome Transfers
September 8, 2011
The athletic eligibility transfer regulation adopted by MHSAA member schools, which states that all transfer students are ineligible for approximately one semester unless the student’s situation meets one of 15 stated exceptions, is an imperfect tool. It’s a wide and generally effective net that nevertheless catches some student transfers it should not and misses some transfers it should catch.
To release those students who should not have been snared there is a procedure by which schools may request a waiver from the MHSAA Executive Committee. During the 2010-11 school year, 320 requests to waive the transfer regulation were made by schools, and 219 waivers were approved by the Executive Committee.
The most troublesome aspect of the transfer regulation is that it does not stop or penalize all transfers that are primarily for athletic reasons. If a student is eligible under one of the stated exceptions, that student is immediately eligible regardless of the motivation behind the change of schools.
If, however, a student changes schools and that student’s circumstances do not meet one of the 15 stated exceptions that would provide immediate eligibility, there is a provision by which the school which lost the student may challenge that the change was primarily for athletic reasons. If that school alleges that this was an athletic-motivated transfer and documents its allegations on a timely basis, the MHSAA is authorized to investigate. If the MHSAA agrees, the student is ineligible for an additional semester.
The school which lost the student has the keys in its pocket. By rule, only that school can start the process.
The mere presence of this provision has discouraged many athletic-motivated transfers; and the more it is utilized, the more it will discourage these most troublesome transfers.
Swimming Lessons
January 19, 2016
I found a place between Christmas and New Year’s Day that was out of Internet reach. For four days and three nights I spent most of the days in the water looking downward into an ocean of coral canyons surrounded by swarms of colorful fish, and much of the nights on the open deck of a catamaran looking up at a nearly full moon moving between stars and swirling clouds. Here is some of what I learned from experiences, rather than from Google, on those days.
First, flying fish really do fly, on average, about the length of a football field.
Second, sea urchins have an edible element, if the spiny critters are smoked in a fire of coconuts and palm fronds and then soaked in saltwater, and if you are either desperately marooned on some remote island or just trying to be nice to the local residents you just met who believe the urchin's slimy, salty core is a delicacy that hospitality requires be shared and graciousness demands be appreciated.
And, more relevant to the work we share that I tried unsuccessfully to tune out for these four days, I learned ...
What you see in the ocean is distorted until you put on your goggles and get beneath the surface of the water. Getting beneath the surface of things is necessary for clear vision.
What you see first is likely to be the flashy fish, while the greater significance is observed more slowly in what appears to be their inanimate habitats, which turn out to be alive with movement if you wait and watch for it. Patience is necessary for clear vision.
The wavy six-inch line of purple coral was really the lips of a large clam that actually separate a fraction of an inch every minute or so to take in the nourishment of the sea. The brown stump below it was really a sea cucumber that actually moves an inch or two a day to vacuum the ocean floor. I saw none of this until I got beneath the surface, and waited.