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.
Push “Pause”
January 24, 2014
No student has the right to participate in the voluntary competitive interscholastic athletic program sponsored and conducted at an MHSAA member school. In practical application, this means that all students are assumed to be ineligible for participation until they have earned the privilege of participation.
Students do this by demonstrating that they have met every prerequisite condition for participation which, at minimum, are the eligibility rules of Regulation I (for high schools) and Regulation III (for junior high/middle schools). A student must be eligible under every Section of Regulation I or Regulation III before he or she competes in a scrimmage or contest.
For example, every student who is new to a high school is presumed to be ineligible for interscholastic athletics. School administration must be certain that each student’s circumstances comply with one of the 15 automatic exceptions to the transfer rule’s requirement that new students must sit out approximately one semester.
If one of the exceptions explicitly applies, the student becomes eligible, provided he or she complies with all aspects of all other Sections of Regulation I: enrollment, age, physical exam, previous and current academic records, amateur and awards, etc.
That’s why we teach at in-service meetings for coaches and administrators, “If in doubt, sit ‘em out.” Wait for as much information as possible before entering any student into a scrimmage or contest. Very often a week or two pause before play will avoid a season of forfeits and a school year of frustration.