Calling for a Common Sense Calendar
September 3, 2013
Finally today, at long last, all the schools of Michigan may legally allow their students to return to their classrooms.
For months, almost every day, I have driven twice daily past a sign in front of a public school proclaiming, “Have a Safe Summer! See you September 3rd.” Almost every drive-by made my blood boil. What a waste of facilities. What a waste of brains!
For all of the bluster about new color-coded grading systems for schools and common core curriculum and countywide consolidation of districts’ support services, Michigan’s children continue to suffer from backward thinking on the most basic matter: the calendar.
As long as public schools are penalized if they start classes days or weeks earlier than today – when their private school competition begins – public schools will be unfairly handicapped in appealing to parents, and public school students will be at a distinct disadvantage in learning.
Michigan’s regressive law that penalizes public schools for demanding earlier or longer academic school days and years is worse than merely being contrary to common sense; it’s in opposition to the best interests of our children. Most of them are more than ready for school by mid to late August, and many of them really needed to be in school long before today.
In An Instant
August 4, 2015
The icebergs that enter the harbors along Newfoundland’s north shore started to form thousands of years ago. They broke from ice flows 10 times their size and then got caught in a current that carried them on a 1,000-mile, two-year journey to “Iceberg Alley.” Some of them drift into harbors and, with seven-eighths of their mass below the surface, they get grounded. Eventually they break apart and disappear.
My wife and I “discovered” one of these grounded ‘bergs near the shore of cozy little Coffee Cove. After a 15-minute hike, we got closer to this sparkling monster than third base is to home plate. We each snapped dozens of pictures.
Just as we were turning to begin our hike back to “civilization,” we heard what we thought was a loud gunshot. But what actually occurred was a portion of the iceberg breaking off and falling into the water.
What we had taken pictures of moments earlier no longer existed as it had at that time. In an instant, the iceberg had changed, without respect for the thousands of years in the making and the hundreds of miles of traveling.
A few days after we returned to Michigan, Rich Tompkins died, apparently healthy, just after waterskiing. Death came without respect for the miles Rich had traveled to serve student-athletes and coaches, and without regard to all the victories his teams had earned and MHSAA championships they had won.
I last saw Rich on Valentine’s Day at the first-ever Fremont High School Hall of Fame induction banquet where Rich and many of his athletes were honored. The pictures taken that night are of people and circumstances that can never be reassembled.
We need to more fully appreciate the miracle of such moments. They can be gone in an instant.