The Waiver Process

August 21, 2015

Last school year, over the course of 12 meetings, the MHSAA Executive Committee received 467 requests from member schools to waive either a minimum standard for student eligibility or a maximum limitation on competition. Three hundred sixty-two of these requests for waiver were approved. That’s 78 percent.

This was a typical year – neither a record high nor record low in the number of requests, or of waivers approved.

Under the MHSAA Constitution, to at least some degree, every Handbook regulation may be waived by the Executive Committee. However, it is an abuse of authority if there is not  a compelling reason for the waiver – that is, a clear case where the rule works an undue hardship (not just any hardship) on a student or school, or the rule fails to perform its intended purpose in the particular and unique circumstances documented.

There are times when school administrators will disagree with an Executive Committee determination, and more times when parents will disagree – and sometimes the difference of opinion leads to unjustified attacks on the MHSAA or individuals. This is unfortunate, but inevitable when critics see their situation alone and not in the context of past and future precedent.

Nevertheless, in recent years, fewer than one in 400 waiver requests that is not approved has been appealed to the full MHSAA Representative Council. I believe this reflects not only that the Executive Committee has been getting the decisions right, but also that those who are making the requests have felt well heard and served.

We work hard to create that atmosphere, even in the presence of emotional, invested parents who are advocating for their children. From a real live receptionist who greets every telephone caller, to our associate director who helps administrators prepare each request to the Executive Committee, we strive to present every request for waiver in its best factual light and every rule involved in its complete educational and historical context.

Tools of Thought

July 13, 2018

(This blog first appeared on MHSAA.com on May 11, 2012.)


I am famous at home and office for my lack of keyboarding skills. The only “C” grade I received in high school was a summer school course in what was then called “typing.” At Dartmouth I paid a woman who worked at the dining hall to type my college papers. In an early job at the University of Wisconsin I typed the play-by-play of Badger football and basketball games with a clumsy “hunt-and-peck” approach.

Today, with the same lack of style, I pound out dozens of emails daily, hammering the keys like my first manual typewriter required four decades ago.

But for any document of great length or importance, I do as I’ve always done: take up pencil (my software) and legal pad (my hardware). There is no question that, for me, the nature of the equipment I’m using for writing affects the nature of the thinking.

With his eyesight failing late in his life, Freidrich Nietzsche bought his first typewriter, changing from pen and paper to the new technology of the 1800s. According to a 2008 article in Atlantic Monthly by Nichols Carr, a friend wrote to Nietzsche in a letter that, since adapting to the telegraphic style, Nietzsche’s terse prose had become even tighter. To which Nietzsche replied: “You are right, our writing equipment takes part in the forming of our thoughts.”

Which makes one wonder where all today’s tweeting and texting may take us.