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.

The Work I Want

December 22, 2015

I am long past the point of working because I have to. I work because I want to.

  • Because I’m lucky to work with co-workers I enjoy and a board I care about and whose members care about me.
  • Because I’m blessed to have work with a mission beyond the bottom line;
  • Because I see needs that I feel qualified to fill very well;
  • And, I’m equally certain, because I have needs that this work fulfills.

On some days or for some tasks, my passion is not great; but on most days and for most responsibilities I have, my passion is as great as ever. And it has never been greater for what I care about most. And that is to hold school sports accountable to ...

  • Pursue programs, policies and procedures that emphasize local opportunities for large numbers of students in a healthy, respectful, educational environment; and
  • Resist pressures to copy the elitism and commercialism of non-school programs.

There are more than enough people advocating that “anything goes.” My voice argues, “Not so fast.” I would much rather see school sports tackle a half-dozen difficult health and safety issues than spend a half-minute debating national travel and tournaments. The former needs all the passion we can generate; the latter has nothing whatsoever to do with the moral imperatives of school sports, and wastes our precious time.