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.

Why

August 5, 2016

Yesterday began my 31st year as executive director of the Michigan High School Athletic Association. When I was asked recently why I’ve served so long, I answered, “Actually, ‘why’ is the reason.”

What we do in school sports is important. How we do it is even more important. But why we do it is most important. And, to quote the last line of the last workshop speaker I heard on July 2 at the 97th Annual Meeting of the National Federation of State High School Associations, “The ‘why’ of our work is an incredible gift we’ve been given.”

The why of our work is the map that connects the dots between all that we do – all the policies, procedures and programs of competitive school-sponsored sports. The why of our work is the gravitational force that keeps what we do and how we do it grounded in the core beliefs of interscholastic athletics – healthy, amateur, local, inexpensive and inclusive programs that benefit students, schools and communities.

The why of our work sees what we do and how we do it as necessary for helping young people learn skills for life as much as skills for sports. The why of our work sees lifetime lessons available in both victory and defeat, and at both the varsity and subvarsity levels. The why of our work sees good sportsmanship not merely as an enhancement of our games but also as a precursor to citizenship in our communities.

When we begin our planning with why, then what we do and how we do it will more likely inspire and motivate others, and keep us in the game long after others have retired.

(Turns out that these ideas aren’t original. Simon Sinek lays out the “Why” premise in one of the top-viewed TED talks of all time. While the NFHS conference speaker was my inspiration, clearly Simon Sinek was his.)