A 7’ Tall Tuba Player
October 11, 2016
In countless school and community gatherings all across Michigan, and in more printed pieces than I can remember, I have advocated for students to attempt to sample all of the diverse activities that a comprehensive high school has to offer ... both athletic and non-athletic activities. It is this variety that highlighted my own school experience and enriched that of my two sons.
Because of my outspoken advocacy for speech and debate and music and drama, I have been asked why I do not advocate that the Michigan High School Athletic Association serve and support those activities in the way it does sports.
The first and foremost reason is that those school programs are already well served by existing organizations in Michigan. But more fundamentally, I resist expansion of MHSAA authority to those activities because it would undermine the essential eligibility rules we must have for competitive athletic programs. I have seen this pressure in other states, but sports has regulatory needs that speech and debate and music and drama do not.
While the profile of some of these programs in some of our member schools is as high as any sports program in those schools, the competitive pressures are still different. No one is recruiting tuba players from one school to another. Debaters are not often subject to undue influence. Meanwhile, sports programs are under intense pressures that lead to athletic-motivated and athletic-related transfers, undue influence and other unsavory behaviors.
As I recently explained this rationale to my colleagues in neighboring states, all but one of which is an athletics-only organization like the MHSAA, one of my counterparts chipped in: "Well, we did once have a tuba player be recruited by and transfer to another school in our state. But he was seven feet tall and, in addition to playing in the band, he was the basketball team's highest scorer and most prolific rebounder."
Long-Term Effects?
November 4, 2014
A recent report of NBC News has raised concern for the possibility that prolonged exposure to one of the latest versions of artificial turf might contribute to the chances that a person will contract some forms of cancer. This came as cruel irony to many who have raised funds for and installed the latest facilities that were intended to be much healthier both for participants and our environment.
It is reported that the millions of old tires that have been diverted from landfills and then ground up and spread to soften artificial playing surfaces may release elements that contribute to disease for those who spend enough time on those surfaces. Touted to be softer and protect participants from joint injuries and concussions, and advertised to promote a healthier environment by recycling old tires and avoiding the need to constantly fertilize and water natural grass fields, it’s now being suggested that this artificial product may be the less healthy alternative for participants and the environment.
As of this writing, the health benefits of current generation artificial turf are well documented, while the health risks are unproven – there is anecdotal evidence, for example, that soccer goalies who have spent many hours per week for many years diving and rolling on the new turf may have ingested unhealthy levels of the tiny black rubber pellets that give the artificial turf its soft “natural” feel.
Nevertheless, this situation is a humbling reminder of how difficult it is to assess all of the unintended consequences in the future of our actions in the present. How might a product that solves many obvious problems be anticipated to have a link to a hidden illness many years later? How might a person who plays a single sport many hours each day all year long anticipate the overuse injuries or other illnesses that such an obsession or devotion might cause?
The questions being raised about the long-term effects of long-term interaction with today’s artificial turf remind us once again to seek moderation in how much we do of any one thing and to seek humility when we think we’ve accomplished something. One seldom can be certain of what is good for us and what is not; and sometimes even the long view of things is not long enough to know.