An Excuse to Get Together

March 15, 2013

I recently heard a veteran teacher tell the story of years ago when she was leading a church youth group which was meeting regularly to prepare a play.  The group met frequently for many months.

Eventually, one of the church members, and parent of one of the youth, asked when the group would be performing their production.  The teacher/leader responded, “That’s not the point.  The play is just an excuse for getting together.” 

Hearing this story resonated with me as I thought back to my years as a high school student who participated in sports, drama and choral music, and as I thought about my two sons who did the same in middle school and high school, and as I thought about my too-brief time as a teacher/coach.  The contests, concerts and dramatic performances for the public were almost entirely beside the point.

What was more important by far was getting together with other students to work together on projects outside the classroom.  To do positive things, creative things.  To experiment under controlled conditions.  To develop a team spirit.

This is why it is especially important that schools maintain broad and deep extracurricular options for students.  Important particularly that they not only maintain but grow subvarsity programs where the emphasis is more likely to keep focused on practice more than games, and teaching and learning more than winning and recordkeeping.

Making a Statement

June 17, 2015

Amid the horrific destruction of Baghdad, the conductor of the Iraqi National Symphony Orchestra, Karim Wasfi, is making a statement. Mr. Wasfi has been carrying a chair and his beloved cello to the exact locations where violence occurs, very shortly after it occurs, and he plays.

With the roar of car bombs still ringing in ears and rubble still smoking, Wasfi plays. He told National Public Radio: “The other side chose to turn every element, every aspect of life in Iraq into a battle zone. I chose to turn every corner of Iraq into a spot for civility, beauty and compassion.”

The response of this single citizen to the catastrophic chaos in his city and country is especially powerful because of the beauty of his music amidst the brutality of civil war; but neither his gift nor the jolting juxtaposition should cause us to miss the message that our response to overwhelming problems could be and should be like his, even if less newsworthy from the perspective of a national radio broadcast. For example ...

  • We can wring our hands in despair that the Earth’s increasingly polluted air, land and waters are so far gone and the problem is of such great scale that nothing we could ever do will change things; or, we can choose to turn every corner of our little slice of the physical world into a less polluted place. We can make a statement.


  • We can weep over the slaughter of elephants, the leveling of mountains or the razing of forests or jungles by crooks or corporations that cannot see the consequences of their reckless avarice; or, we can choose to make our neighborhoods spots of beauty, conservation and sustainability. A statement.


  • We can cry ourselves to sleep over humanity’s inhumanity to those who look, dress or worship differently; or, we can choose to make our little community a welcoming place for refugees where long-suffering and persecuted people can feel safe and hopeful. A statement.


  • And we can become frustrated that the values of school sports are so regularly undermined by the excesses of youth, college, professional and international sports that it feels hopeless to hang onto what we believe; or, we can choose to devote ourselves to maintaining our little niche of the sports world as a more principled place ... where scholarship, sportsmanship, safety and a sensible scope are recognizable and reliable core values. A statement.


The great conductor carrying his chair and cello to the rubble is real. It’s also a metaphor which reminds the rest of us of other daunting problems and the opportunity each individual person has to make a meaningful response – a clear statement – where we live, work and play.