“What Can I Do?”
October 16, 2015
One of the very first chapters that educators wrote on the fundamentals of school-sponsored, student-centered sports described the bad of single-sport specialization and the benefits of multi-sport participation. And the basic policies of educational athletics have flowed for decades from that philosophy.
Sadly, every reasonable restraint that educators placed on school sports was eventually exploited by non-school youth sports organizations and commercial promoters which have seen the world quite differently and have filled almost every gap in school sports programs with alternative or additional programs that started sooner, traveled further, competed longer and ended later than educators believed was healthy for youth and adolescents and compatible with their academic obligations.
Recently (and as reported in this space on Sept. 15, 2015), there has been a chorus of concerns from many different corners echoing the voices of educators who had just about given up on this issue. Suddenly, early single-sport specialization by youth is being attacked from many directions as being injurious for youth, and the multi-sport experience (aka, “balanced participation”) is being advanced as the healthy prescription.
Now I’m being asked by interscholastic athletic administrators: “Yes, I hear the chatter, and I see the evidence and anecdotes; but what can I do?” Well, one idea is to follow the lead of St. Joseph High School Athletic Director, Kevin Guzzo.
Last school year Kevin started the “Iron Bears Club” to recognize and reward the school’s three-sport athletes. And last month Kevin made the multi-sport imperative a central theme in his annual report to the St. Joseph Board of Education.
Little steps in a local community? Perhaps. But multiply Kevin’s efforts by 500 or more schools in Michigan? It could be a sea change. And it would be good for kids.
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.