Lockdown Logic

June 7, 2014

There recently were two fatal shootings within a single hour in the neighborhood of the MHSAA office; and for a couple hours, the killer evaded law enforcement authorities.

We locked the MHSAA’s doors and directed staff to remain in the office during the chase and capture. That evening on the local television news we learned the details of the day’s drama. And then sidebars to the main story developed, including criticism by parents who complained they were not alerted promptly enough when their children’s schools were locked down.

Several outraged parents complained that their school didn’t notify parents of the lockdown for a whole hour. Imagine that; that schools would worry first and foremost about students’ safety and only secondarily about notifying parents!

One local school administrator confided that before instant Internet communications, it was standard operating procedure to focus first on kids’ safety. Now, administrators worry about parents showing up at school and adding to the hazards.

There is almost intentional delay in notifying parents so they won’t be incited into rushing to school, risking their own safety and that of others, and complicating efforts of school personnel to protect children and of law enforcement personnel to pursue the bad guys.

Before the Internet age, hours could lapse before parents knew of unusual events near their children’s schools. Often the notice was put in writing and sent home with children at the end of the day. Now schools are criticized for even an hour’s delay, which might be just another of the growing list of unrealistic and unfair demands on our schools.

The Best Is Yet To Come

June 17, 2014

My last posting was built on six words from the novel, No Small Mischief, a fictional memoir of life in Nova Scotia’s northernmost region. Today’s posting is launched from an 11-word passage from the same work: “Living in the past is not living up to our potential.”

How horrible it is to peak in high school. 

To remember high school as the best days of life is not such a problem, unless it is true. If, in fact, we were at our best during our high school years, then we have failed to fully develop as human beings.

I heard an athletic director close a senior student-athlete awards program recently by saying, wisely, “I hope you will visit us, but not too long or too often. You need to get on with your lives.”

The high school experience – including competitive athletics – is not the end, not the fulfillment of anything. It is, at its best, the launching pad for life.

That it can be the best days of one’s youth should not make school sports the best years of one’s life.