Failing Boys
July 9, 2012
In the autumn of 2002, I included the following statement in a longer editorial in the MHSAA Bulletin:
“Year after year I go to league and conference scholar-athlete awards banquets and see girls outnumber boys by wide margins: 54 girls to 33 boys honored at a March event in mid-Michigan is typical of what has occurred many places over many years.
“Year after year, I attend senior honors programs and see girls outnumber boys: 147 awards to girls versus 70 awards to boys honored at a May event in mid-Michigan is typical.
“Look at these figures from the National Federation of State High School Associations:
• “68.3% of vocal music participants are girls.
• 66.4% of participants in group interpretation speech activities are girls.
• 63.3% of participants in individual speech events are girls.
• 62.7% of orchestra members are girls.
• 61% of dramatics participants are girls.”
Nothing since that time has changed my opinion that schools and society at large are expecting far too little of boys. It’s as if boys get a free pass from high expectations if they do sports and don’t do drugs. Far too little is asked of far too many of our male students.
Now add this to the story: There is a growing body of research that supports the premise that while high school sports participation is great for girls, it’s actually bad for high school boys. Bad because it leads to lower participation in non-athletic activities, lower achievement in the classroom, and lower scores on measures of personal conduct and character than their female counterparts.
Males are dropping out of high schools at higher rates and enrolling in colleges at lower rates than females. They’re abusing drugs at higher rates than females, and males are committing both violent and petty crimes at much higher rates than females. Could much of this be linked to the low expectations we have for high school students? Isn’t it time for organized advocacy on behalf of boys?
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.