One Community at a Time
July 24, 2012
In the northwest corner of Michigan’s Lower Peninsula there is a group of volunteers who are focusing on the character-building potential of youth and high school sports. They are teaching the principles and recognizing the people that make character education happen frequently and by design, rather than only rarely and by accident.
The group is known as Beyond The Scoreboard. It draws on resources from Character Counts, Positive Coaching Alliance and others; and it delivers character education through inexpensive workshops for athletes, coaches, officials, sports leaders and spectators.
Beyond The Scoreboard also conducts a Champions of Character Awards Dinner, the 8th Annual held June 11, 2012 in Petoskey. I’ve attended most and was the speaker in 2011. This year’s speaker was my counterpart with the Arizona Interscholastic Association, Commissioner Harold Slemmer.
At an event like this there are many moments that uplift the best of youth and school sports. Here are two from this year’s banquet:
-
When East Jordan High School runner Luke Hawley was thanking those who helped him be the kind of person who would be honored as the high school male athlete, he thanked many people, including the maintenance person who prepared the high school track. I had never before heard a high school student-athlete include a groundskeeper in his support group. And it told me a lot about this young man. He’s likely to be a good employee, spouse and parent someday.
-
When a member of the Petoskey High School football team was introducing his coach, Kerry VanOrman, who was being honored as the high school coach, he said the first thing Coach VanOrman would say to every player he greeted was a question about something other than sports; and he would be the same way to every player, no matter how skilled. He’s coaching more than a sport; he’s coaching kids. Helping them become better people.
After a single banquet, an attentive person could develop a game plan for character building for an entire season. Imagine all that’s been shared to improve youth and school sports after eight years! Congratulations to founder Jack Taylor, Executive Director Ron Goodman and all board members and volunteers.
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.