Monkey Business

July 23, 2013

During the summer weeks, "From the Director" will bring to you some of our favorite entries from previous years. Today's blog first appeared Aug. 24, 2012.

I hesitate to assert that my wife and I are hikers, but we certainly are avid walkers. Walking is a routine of our daily life; and it’s a highlight when we travel. Walking is the means by which we absorb the sights, sounds and smells of each locale, while faster modes of tourism pass us by.

One of my wife’s delights as we travel is to discover monkeys in the wild; so sometimes monkey sighting has been the goal of walks, for example, in Costa Rica and Panama. This has made us familiar with howler monkeys; and I’m sorry to say, it’s caused me to see parallels between howler monkeys and modern media.

The growls of the howler monkeys send messages through the treetops. One howler begins, and others forward the message for miles. I’ve been told by locals (I’m no expert) that the monkey culture doesn’t reward creativity and that there’s an expectation that the message at the end of the line is the same as it began.

Sort of like forwarding an email, photo or video; or sharing a posting on Facebook. Or like the wire services’ distribution of news through traditional media. It’s rare that anyone vets the information; and retractions or corrections are even rarer.

I read in Barbara Kingsolver’s novel The Lacuna that the most important thing about a story, and about a person, is what you don’t know, which gets to the heart of the weakness of much of modern media. Yes, because of the volume of information in today’s 24/7/365 “news” cycle with thousands of channels and the universal access to reporting news through social media, we’re likely to get most of the facts, eventually; but the salient and true facts are likely to be lost in the rush and the clutter.

Set at a time before television, Kingsolver’s protagonist in The Lacuna writes in 1946: “The newsmen leap on anything . . . The radio is the root of the evil, their rule is: No silence, ever. When anything happens, the commentator has to speak without a moment’s pause for gathering wisdom. Falsehood and inanity are preferable to silence. You can’t imagine the effect of this. The talkers are rising above the thinkers.”

However real that observation would have been then, it’s clear today that cable television, talk radio and the Internet have raised the talking-without-thinking effect to heights that would have been unimaginable in the 1940s.

One Thing

March 11, 2016

One of Michigan’s finest athletic directors is Plainwell’s Dave Price, who recently encouraged me with a school newspaper article about a student who epitomizes school sports, Plainwell High School senior Jessica Nyberg. She participates for the Trojans in swimming & diving, basketball and soccer.

Trojan Torch staff writer Jordan Raglon featured Jessica in an article on Feb. 17, citing how much teammates and coaches value her companionship and leadership. The author cited her accomplishments in all three sports, but what caught my attention was this statement by Jessica: “If there was one thing sports has taught me, it’s that everyone matters.”

I can’t think of a better theme for school sports, or a better mission for educational athletics.

At its best, school sports teaches that teamwork works. That substitutes who practice with peak performance push the starters to even higher levels of performance, and turn some starters into stars.

At its best, school sports finds room for every student, regardless of ability or disability, to be a part of the team so long as the student meets the standards of eligibility, decorum, discipline and dedication the school and team demand.

At its best, school sports understands that “everyone matters” means that no student is above the rules, and that failure to apply rules to one student devalues other students who have complied with the rules.

With the attitude that “everyone matters,” teams tend to come together, discrimination tends to end, and fair play advances.