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.
Fixing Things
October 6, 2011
Leaders of schools and school sports have rarely been asked to do more with less than is demanded of them today. Their plight has brought back to my memory that many years ago, a pastor from North Carolina, Stephen M. Crotts, told this story – one that I’ve kept in my files, and in my heart, ever since. He said:
I started my ministry in Charlotte County, Virginia. And there was a deacon in the church there named Harvey Milton who ran a seed and feed store in Drakes Branch. Harvey and his wife Margaret sort of adopted me and helped me along during those first tentative years of the ministry.
I remember one day after I’d been there nearly three years. I was struggling with trying to do too much, trying to keep everybody happy, trying to fix all the hurts.
I stopped by to see Harvey at his business and found him hunched over the back door replacing a broken hinge.
“What are you doing?” I politely inquired.
“Well, Stephen,” Harvey intoned, “there are four kinds of broken things in this world. There are those things that are broken that if you just leave them alone they’ll fix themselves. Then there are those things that are broken that are none of my business. It’s up to somebody else to fix it. Then there are those things that are broken that only God can fix. And finally, there are those things that are broken that can be fixed and it’s my job to do it. And this door is one of them. And that’s what I’m doing . . . fixing this door.”
Stephen finished by saying this: “When urgent calls, opportunities, pressure, criticism and thoughts of all I could be doing come, those words help me sort my duty.”
Perhaps those words will help you too.