Independence Day
July 9, 2014
The No. 1 focus of my volunteer time and charitable giving is the Refugee Development Center which exists to support in our community those who have been displaced from their native countries by bigotry, hatred and violence.
Two years ago, RDC started a soccer team – called “Newcomers” – for the elementary school aged children of one of the neighborhoods in which our refugees have settled. As I’ve written here before, it took most of a full season for this team to score its first goal, longer for it to earn a tie and still longer to win a game.
After the earliest few practices it was apparent that none on the team had much playing experience. Many of the players had only recently escaped persecution where playing games would have had no place. It was also apparent at the outset that the players had little experience with the dynamics of teamwork, and language differences added to the difficulties.
After several lopsided losses, some of the Newcomers complained that “they needed some Americans on the team.” But our patient coaches had just the right response. They said, “You are Americans.”
Indeed; these Newcomers are as American as I am. Ours is, in fact, a nation of newcomers which, in spite of some serious slights and several significant sins, has welcomed all the world’s people.
As my wife and I travel to other countries, we hear their citizens talk with admiration about the opportunity and stability of “America,” which they seem to prefer to call us rather than the “United States.”
The 20-year-old student from South Korea/Philippines/China whom we are hosting in our home for two years is amazed at the diversity of skin color and dress she sees in our town. She is amazed that she could attend a church of a different denomination in our community almost every week of the year; and she is equally amazed at the openness of government and media and the tolerance America has for different opinions on any topic.
The America that I celebrate on this Independence Day is the one that strives to be independent of tyranny, bigotry, intolerance and hatred and, because it sees its connection to humanity everywhere, remains a nation whose arms are open wide to the world.
Sportsmanship in our Bones
January 3, 2013
When my younger son was playing soccer – he was seven or eight years old at the time – he tumbled out of bounds and down a little hill. When he climbed back up the slope to the soccer pitch he was covered in burrs.
As he began to delicately remove the prickly burrs, play resumed – except that one player on the opposing team, the player marking my son, stopped to assist my son in removing the prickers. And he continued to help my son until all the burrs were removed. Only then did the two of them rejoin the game, together.
Observing this profoundly shaped my belief that sportsmanship is not dead. It’s not out of date and it’s not out of style. Good sporting behavior is in our bones, in our DNA.
Even before they can pronounce the word, and long before they can define it, kids know what sportsmanship is.
Change the rules in the middle of a game with six, seven or eight year olds – any card game, board game or sports game – and they’ll shout, “Hey, that’s not fair!” We must assure that natural instinct is still demonstrative when they are 16, 17 and 18 year olds.