Crisis Coaching
June 14, 2013
On the highway outside my office window last week, there was a traffic accident that involved two 2012 graduates of a mid-Michigan high school. One was killed, the other appears to be recovering from serious injuries. The young men had been on their way to work.
The next morning’s newspaper coverage – in the news section, not the sports pages – revolved around the boys’ high school football coach. He told the reporter about his former players’ character and their dreams, and what a difficult day he had spent with their families. Later, local television stations made this coach their go-to person for updates.
This plays out so often: a family faces a crisis, and a coach is quickly on the scene. The best part of coaching – close and even lifelong relationships with players – becomes the toughest – being physically present when those players or their families need support.
It has played out so often in my experience that I can’t imagine what is lost in our schools as interscholastic coaching positions are farmed out to volunteers, or programs are eliminated altogether. I can’t imagine what is lost in the lives of students, and many of their families.
The richest part of coaching is relationships, which are often most revealed during the worst circumstances.
See What You Say
July 31, 2012
Edward Morgan Forster is an English novelist who died as I was graduating as an English major at Dartmouth College in 1970.
Like many creative writers, E. M Forster traveled the world; and of his six novels (each of which was made into a film), it is A Passage to India, written in 1924, that was most popular.
He also wrote many short stories, plays, film scripts, essays, literary criticism, two biographies and even a libretto. He was, to say the least, a prolific writer.
The secret of his productivity is probably the genius and tortured soul which drives so many great authors. However, there is one quote from E. M. Forster that may be especially revealing. He said: “How do I know what I think until I see what I say?” He was a writer in order to be a better thinker.
I have neither genius nor a tortured soul; but what has driven me to write throughout my administrative career – and what has kept me blogging twice a week for three full years as of today – is that I cannot be sure what I know – or what I believe and will stand behind – until I can see it in writing and know that it will be read by others. That’s when I begin to know what I really think.