This face is all I have, worn and lived in, the lines below my eyes are like old friends. . .
and when cracks appear, they suit me fine--like a good ol' dog, you won't hear me whine . . .
I can't believe the reflection on the wall who used to be the fairest of them all . . .
With reverence toward the incomparable Willie Nelson who penned those words, I focus today on a topic seldom discussed outside our homes yet so vital to our self esteem: our faces. As we self inventory, whether we admit it or not, our focus typically centers on the face, our most precious and our most changing identity. Regardless of what age we are at the moment, our faces portray a change, even though we often do not want to face those changes.
Funny how my perspective has altered as I edge closer to 60 . . . the ol' dog mentioned previously has begun to view life at a much more comfortable, relaxed pace, one that has allowed me to truly get off the treadmill and begin enjoying the life I have lived. The photos I occasionally see of this kid who wore tiger pajamas, who played with his trains at Christmas, and who enjoyed building model cars from kits all show a smiling, carefree-looking boy. The Vitalis my dad put in my hair and the goofy ties I wore every Sunday reflect a kid who had no cares in the world . . . the face was innocent.
Following those elementary years came the junior high/high school saga. The beginning of zits, the excitement of having girls pay attention, the highs and lows of sports, the challenge of harder classes, the decisions that seemed so easy to make yet carried such harsh consequences, the desire to fit in no matter what it took to do so . . . the innocent face began to change, but it still retained a freshness that reflected optimism . . . the world was in front of me.
The college years: drinking; studying; feverishly watching The Unknown Comic and Gene, Gene, The Dancing Machine on The Gong Show; hanging out in bars (and liking it!); looking for love; discovering independence; growing my hair long . . . the innocence was being challenged and oftentimes buried because the adult was peeking through . . . a new face was emerging . . . this close to changing from a kid into a man.
The working world slapped me whether I wanted it to or not. Getting a steady paycheck, teaching and coaching kids, emerging as a role model, being watched by parents and others--all contributed to a maturity I had avoided for so long. The responsible face had arrived . . . time to grow up and morph into my parents . . . but I didn't want to do that, so I kept hanging on to those college experiences on weekends . . . until that got to be old news . . . the face was still smiling, but something was missing.
What was missing was companionship--friends were still many, but part of me had grown tired of my lifestyle. Running had always been part of my existence since those middle school years, but now I found it to be a refuge. Training for marathons and other races was my outlet . . . I loved it, but it merely occupied my time. Dating had been going on for several years, but my insecurity about wanting to settle down had prevented me from getting overly serious, oftentimes to my own detriment. Not sure about what I wanted, I did know it was time to change . . . my face no longer hid what I wanted.
Soon, marriage followed by two daughters entered my life--everything changed. No longer was I the centerpiece; in fact, my life became somewhat secondary as I tried to make sense of the obligations, the challenges, and the goals of being a husband and a dad . . . responsibility was my main focus, raising kids to be successful; maintaining a marriage that featured two working adults with limited together-time due to work schedules; seeking success financially, academically, athletically, socially, personally . . . all contributing to a tired face that knew that pressure was mounting, knowing that I had a family to care for, knowing that I had better not screw up because the consequences would be devastating . . . the pressures of adulthood had smacked me.
The kids were raised, mistakes were made where sometimes I just called myself a dumbass, lessons were taught and learned, the little girls who had melted my heart from day 1 were now adults and had branched out on their own to different parts of the country, my career unfolded as well as I could have ever hoped . . . and then it ended. Retirement, which had previously been reserved for old people, now was part of my life. The wrinkles had been creeping in for many years, but now I noticed them more than ever. The wrinkled brow, the bags beneath the eyes, the crooked lines beside the eyes . . . never really noticed them that much but now, without a doubt, they are there.
The journey--I hope--is far from complete, but the world looks different to me these days. No longer is it something I want to conquer, but it is something I want to appreciate. Memories of my childhood, my maturation, my family, my career, and my students all seem a bit more vivid these days. In my den hang pictures of accomplishments, friends, family--their power lingers. The face today . . . experienced, a bit jaded, wise, celebrated . . . the lines and wrinkles? I welcome them because I have worked hard to get them, and they all mean something to me . . . when I look in the mirror, I don't see old age; instead, I see much life to live, to experience . . . I see a bright future, one I don't want to miss!
What do you do with a memory?
You can't hold back the sands of time . . .
Can't erase the things I saw . . .
What do you do with old regrets? Hold them close enough to not forget.
In yet another song, Willie has nailed it . . . and so have I!
mag.gunther@gmail.com
Monday, March 30, 2015
Thursday, March 19, 2015
Enjoy the Ride
Life can easily spoil us--successes, good health, loyal friends. "Spoiled," in my world, translates to "taking for granted." While I had been part of the Dover High School athletic scene for twenty years, I found myself falling into an envious trap, one that found me expecting all our teams, regardless of sport, to win. Why? We are convinced that winning is what we do. At the risk of sounding overly arrogant, that was my mindset--I was spoiled. We didn't hope to win; we expected to win. As I neared my career's end, I periodically took inventory of what was going on around me, what I needed to savor before it ended. My appreciation for what I had experienced was cemented in a belief in our kids, our athletes, and that has never changed. However, I also have come to a conclusion regarding our community and our athletic leaders--we love to win, but I realize just how spoiled we have become. When others from neighboring communities shout various barbs at us because of our persistent winning, I have a stark realization of why they do it: we are spoiled, make no mistake.
For twenty-one years, I have sat in the stands and watched the magic of Dan Ifft on the football field. Yes, Dover has always fielded strong teams, but they have never seen a consistent year-in, year-out performance as has been demonstrated by this man. Under his guidance, we have realized--some grudgingly, of course, as the comparisons to various eras have revealed--that we are watching a man with a knack and competitive zeal that is unequaled in these parts. While his excellent, loyal staff has remained remarkably stable, the one constant has been Dan--he runs the show. Many will tell you that they don't understand him, they don't agree with his philosophy, they think he's arrogant--whatever. Dan is a winner, but he is also a courageous man, one who in the midst of success abandoned his running game philosophy and adapted to a new approach, all because he recognized that to reach higher goals a shift in his beliefs was necessary. Anyone who has ever coached should be able to attest that deserting a personal philosophy is a serious case of humble pie--I always keep that in mind when I hear Dan described in critical terms. Through it all, he and his teams have remained disciplined, tough, and humble--that is him to a tee. He is a man of principle, and he has led his football program to heights never before reached in Dover--say what you want, I treasure this man's contributions to our community.
Brenda Wherley is a godsend to us; in truth, over the years, Dover has had a few remarkable swimmers (John Hoopingarner comes to mind); however, never before has this community seen a swimming juggernaut like the Dover boys' and girls' teams. Brenda is fiercely devoted to the sport; pushing kids to excel is her nature, and her athletes love her because they know that she is not seeking personal glory--her motivation is those kids. Face it, when Dover swimming is mentioned, Brenda's face is what surfaces. I have watched her from a distance because my knowledge of competitive swimming is nil; what I have seen is someone who has an innate drive to succeed, to take others to the level she demands. She and her trustful sidekick coach have been together for many years, and they share the same drive. Looking for excellence is her personality; as a person, no one is finer--she does her job, she interacts freely with her peers, and she maintains an enviable respect from her swimmers and co-workers. She understands how to win--disciplined, tough, and humble. As a swimming coach, she has led her program to heights never before reached in Dover--say what you want, I treasure this woman's contributions to our community.
I came to Dover over twenty years ago because I was going to have the opportunity to teach at a larger school than Strasburg, to confront a challenge that I welcomed, and to coach with Bobby Von Kaenel, a friend and opponent for a large part of my life. Something told me that this was an opportune moment in my career--nothing has ever changed that belief. Interestingly, Bobby and I had not always gotten along that well. I remembered one time when we were coaching against each other in a year when his team was strong and mine wasn't--I felt he had run up the score in an attempt to get a kid a record of some kind. As a result, for a few weeks, I was not enamored by him. In time, however, my poutiness subsided, and I realized that what we shared was an intense love of basketball and a fierce drive to win--in short, we were far more similar than I would have ever guessed. Over the past twenty-plus years, he has led our boys' teams to heights never before attained in Dover. I always understood one crucial point: Bobby was the boss, the leader, the one who steered the ship. My role was second fiddle, one I loved to play because it allowed me to stay behind the scenes and teach my players. During that time, he had various other assistants contribute, all effective and extremely competent men. In sum, our staff was largely intact for all those years. What I learned, though, is that the public Bobby--the occasional ranting and raving coach--is not the real Bobby. The real guy is the one who loves to work with kids, who continues to stay in constant touch with so many former players, the one those former players turn to for periodic advice, and the one who will drop everything to assist them. Like all of us, of course, he has his detractors--occupational hazard, believe me. Know this, however: He understands how to win--disciplined, tough, and humble--say what you want, I treasure this man's contributions to our community.
If you read carefully, you will see that four mantras are repeated in each description:
*All are disciplined, tough, and humble;
*All have maintained loyal and long-standing staffs;
*All have led their programs to heights never before reached in Dover.
*Longevity + Stability = Success . . . and I have to guess that much of the dislike of Dover from others is triggered by the above-described formula.
I write these words not to bestow additional praise on these three outstanding coaches; no, my point is this: We here in Dover are living in a gilded age. For the past two decades, we have had the tremendous fortune to watch three future Hall of Fame coaches work their trade at the same time at the same school. They win, they lead, they demand excellence, and we expect it. Trust me, the pressure to continue excelling takes its toll, but these three have endured. It is no secret that these individuals are inching closer to their careers ending--this era is not going to last forever, but, for right now, we have them--they are ours to watch, to enjoy, and, most importantly, to appreciate.
A time will come when we will look back and say, "You remember those coaches? Wow, what memories." Folks, enjoy what we have right now; yea, we're spoiled, spoiled rotten . . . enjoy the ride, my friends.
For twenty-one years, I have sat in the stands and watched the magic of Dan Ifft on the football field. Yes, Dover has always fielded strong teams, but they have never seen a consistent year-in, year-out performance as has been demonstrated by this man. Under his guidance, we have realized--some grudgingly, of course, as the comparisons to various eras have revealed--that we are watching a man with a knack and competitive zeal that is unequaled in these parts. While his excellent, loyal staff has remained remarkably stable, the one constant has been Dan--he runs the show. Many will tell you that they don't understand him, they don't agree with his philosophy, they think he's arrogant--whatever. Dan is a winner, but he is also a courageous man, one who in the midst of success abandoned his running game philosophy and adapted to a new approach, all because he recognized that to reach higher goals a shift in his beliefs was necessary. Anyone who has ever coached should be able to attest that deserting a personal philosophy is a serious case of humble pie--I always keep that in mind when I hear Dan described in critical terms. Through it all, he and his teams have remained disciplined, tough, and humble--that is him to a tee. He is a man of principle, and he has led his football program to heights never before reached in Dover--say what you want, I treasure this man's contributions to our community.
Brenda Wherley is a godsend to us; in truth, over the years, Dover has had a few remarkable swimmers (John Hoopingarner comes to mind); however, never before has this community seen a swimming juggernaut like the Dover boys' and girls' teams. Brenda is fiercely devoted to the sport; pushing kids to excel is her nature, and her athletes love her because they know that she is not seeking personal glory--her motivation is those kids. Face it, when Dover swimming is mentioned, Brenda's face is what surfaces. I have watched her from a distance because my knowledge of competitive swimming is nil; what I have seen is someone who has an innate drive to succeed, to take others to the level she demands. She and her trustful sidekick coach have been together for many years, and they share the same drive. Looking for excellence is her personality; as a person, no one is finer--she does her job, she interacts freely with her peers, and she maintains an enviable respect from her swimmers and co-workers. She understands how to win--disciplined, tough, and humble. As a swimming coach, she has led her program to heights never before reached in Dover--say what you want, I treasure this woman's contributions to our community.
I came to Dover over twenty years ago because I was going to have the opportunity to teach at a larger school than Strasburg, to confront a challenge that I welcomed, and to coach with Bobby Von Kaenel, a friend and opponent for a large part of my life. Something told me that this was an opportune moment in my career--nothing has ever changed that belief. Interestingly, Bobby and I had not always gotten along that well. I remembered one time when we were coaching against each other in a year when his team was strong and mine wasn't--I felt he had run up the score in an attempt to get a kid a record of some kind. As a result, for a few weeks, I was not enamored by him. In time, however, my poutiness subsided, and I realized that what we shared was an intense love of basketball and a fierce drive to win--in short, we were far more similar than I would have ever guessed. Over the past twenty-plus years, he has led our boys' teams to heights never before attained in Dover. I always understood one crucial point: Bobby was the boss, the leader, the one who steered the ship. My role was second fiddle, one I loved to play because it allowed me to stay behind the scenes and teach my players. During that time, he had various other assistants contribute, all effective and extremely competent men. In sum, our staff was largely intact for all those years. What I learned, though, is that the public Bobby--the occasional ranting and raving coach--is not the real Bobby. The real guy is the one who loves to work with kids, who continues to stay in constant touch with so many former players, the one those former players turn to for periodic advice, and the one who will drop everything to assist them. Like all of us, of course, he has his detractors--occupational hazard, believe me. Know this, however: He understands how to win--disciplined, tough, and humble--say what you want, I treasure this man's contributions to our community.
If you read carefully, you will see that four mantras are repeated in each description:
*All are disciplined, tough, and humble;
*All have maintained loyal and long-standing staffs;
*All have led their programs to heights never before reached in Dover.
*Longevity + Stability = Success . . . and I have to guess that much of the dislike of Dover from others is triggered by the above-described formula.
I write these words not to bestow additional praise on these three outstanding coaches; no, my point is this: We here in Dover are living in a gilded age. For the past two decades, we have had the tremendous fortune to watch three future Hall of Fame coaches work their trade at the same time at the same school. They win, they lead, they demand excellence, and we expect it. Trust me, the pressure to continue excelling takes its toll, but these three have endured. It is no secret that these individuals are inching closer to their careers ending--this era is not going to last forever, but, for right now, we have them--they are ours to watch, to enjoy, and, most importantly, to appreciate.
A time will come when we will look back and say, "You remember those coaches? Wow, what memories." Folks, enjoy what we have right now; yea, we're spoiled, spoiled rotten . . . enjoy the ride, my friends.
Wednesday, March 18, 2015
Enjoy the Ride
Life can easily spoil us--successes, good health, loyal friends. "Spoiled," in my world, translates to "taking for granted." While I had been part of the Dover High School athletic scene for twenty years, I found myself falling into an envious trap, one that found me expecting all our teams, regardless of sport, to win. Why? We are Dover--winning is what we do. At the risk of sounding overly arrogant, that was my mindset--I was spoiled. We didn't hope to win; we expected to win. As I neared my career's end, I periodically took inventory of what was going on around me, what I needed to savor before it ended. My appreciation for what I had experienced was cemented in a belief in our kids, our athletes, and that has never changed. However, I also have come to a conclusion regarding our community and our athletic leaders--we love to win, but I realize just how spoiled we have become. When others from neighboring communities shout various barbs at us because of our persistent winning, I have a stark realization of why they do it: we are spoiled, make no mistake.
For twenty-one years, I have sat in the stands and watched the magic of Dan Ifft on the football field. Yes, Dover has always fielded strong teams, but they have never seen a consistent year-in, year-out performance as has been demonstrated by this man. Under his guidance, we have realized--some grudgingly, of course, as the comparisons to various eras have revealed--that we are watching a man with a knack and competitive zeal that is unequaled in these parts. While his excellent, loyal staff has remained remarkably stable, the one constant has been Dan--he runs the show. Many will tell you that they don't understand him, they don't agree with his philosophy, they think he's arrogant--whatever. Dan is a winner, but he is also a courageous man, one who in the midst of success abandoned his running game philosophy and adapted to a new approach, all because he recognized that to reach higher goals a shift in his beliefs was necessary. Anyone who has ever coached should be able to attest that deserting a personal philosophy is a serious case of humble pie--I always keep that in mind when I hear Dan described in critical terms. Through it all, he and his teams have remained disciplined, tough, and humble--that is him to a tee. He is a man of principle, and he has led his football program to heights never before reached in Dover--say what you want, I treasure this man's contributions to our community.
Brenda Wherley is a godsend to us; in truth, over the years, Dover has had a few remarkable swimmers (John Hoopingarner comes to mind); however, never before has this community seen a swimming juggernaut like the Dover boys' and girls' teams. Brenda is fiercely devoted to the sport; pushing kids to excel is her nature, and her athletes love her because they know that she is not seeking personal glory--her motivation is those kids. Face it, when Dover swimming is mentioned, Brenda's face is what surfaces. I have watched her from a distance because my knowledge of competitive swimming is nil; what I have seen is someone who has an innate drive to succeed, to take others to the level she demands. She and her trustful sidekick coach have been together for many years, and they share the same drive. Looking for excellence is her personality; as a person, no one is finer--she does her job, she interacts freely with her peers, and she maintains an enviable respect from her swimmers and co-workers. She understands how to win--disciplined, tough, and humble. As a swimming coach, she has led her program to heights never before reached in Dover--say what you want, I treasure this woman's contributions to our community.
I came to Dover over twenty years ago because I was going to have the opportunity to teach at a larger school than Strasburg, to confront a challenge that I welcomed, and to coach with Bobby Von Kaenel, a friend and opponent for a large part of my life. Something told me that this was an opportune moment in my career--nothing has ever changed that belief. Interestingly, Bobby and I had not always gotten along that well. I remembered one time when we were coaching against each other in a year when his team was strong and mine wasn't--I felt he had run up the score in an attempt to get a kid a record of some kind. As a result, for a few weeks, I was not enamored by him. In time, however, my poutiness subsided, and I realized that what we shared was an intense love of basketball and a fierce drive to win--in short, we were far more similar than I would have ever guessed. Over the past twenty-plus years, he has led our boys' teams to heights never before attained in Dover. I always understood one crucial point: Bobby was the boss, the leader, the one who steered the ship. My role was second fiddle, one I loved to play because it allowed me to stay behind the scenes and teach my players. During that time, he had various other assistants contribute, all effective and extremely competent men. In sum, our staff was largely intact for all those years. What I learned, though, is that the public Bobby--the occasional ranting and raving coach--is not the real Bobby. The real guy is the one who loves to work with kids, who continues to stay in constant touch with so many former players, the one those former players turn to for periodic advice, and the one who will drop everything to assist them. Like all of us, of course, he has his detractors--occupational hazard, believe me. Know this, however: He understands how to win--disciplined, tough, and humble--say what you want, I treasure this man's contributions to our community.
If you read carefully, you will see that four mantras are repeated in each description:
*All are disciplined, tough, and humble;
*All have maintained loyal and long-standing staffs;
*All have led their programs to heights never before reached in Dover.
*Longevity + Stability = Success . . . and I have to guess that much of the dislike of Dover from others is triggered by the above-described formula.
I write these words not to bestow additional praise on these three outstanding coaches; no, my point is this: We here in Dover are living in a gilded age. For the past two decades, we have had the tremendous fortune to watch three future Hall of Fame coaches work their trade at the same time at the same school. They win, they lead, they demand excellence, and we expect it. Trust me, the pressure to continue excelling takes its toll, but these three have endured. It is no secret that these individuals are inching closer to their careers ending--this era is not going to last forever, but, for right now, we have them--they are ours to watch, to enjoy, and, most importantly, to appreciate.
A time will come when we will look back and say, "You remember those coaches? Wow, what memories." Folks, enjoy what we have right now; yea, we're spoiled, spoiled rotten . . . enjoy the ride, my friends.
For twenty-one years, I have sat in the stands and watched the magic of Dan Ifft on the football field. Yes, Dover has always fielded strong teams, but they have never seen a consistent year-in, year-out performance as has been demonstrated by this man. Under his guidance, we have realized--some grudgingly, of course, as the comparisons to various eras have revealed--that we are watching a man with a knack and competitive zeal that is unequaled in these parts. While his excellent, loyal staff has remained remarkably stable, the one constant has been Dan--he runs the show. Many will tell you that they don't understand him, they don't agree with his philosophy, they think he's arrogant--whatever. Dan is a winner, but he is also a courageous man, one who in the midst of success abandoned his running game philosophy and adapted to a new approach, all because he recognized that to reach higher goals a shift in his beliefs was necessary. Anyone who has ever coached should be able to attest that deserting a personal philosophy is a serious case of humble pie--I always keep that in mind when I hear Dan described in critical terms. Through it all, he and his teams have remained disciplined, tough, and humble--that is him to a tee. He is a man of principle, and he has led his football program to heights never before reached in Dover--say what you want, I treasure this man's contributions to our community.
Brenda Wherley is a godsend to us; in truth, over the years, Dover has had a few remarkable swimmers (John Hoopingarner comes to mind); however, never before has this community seen a swimming juggernaut like the Dover boys' and girls' teams. Brenda is fiercely devoted to the sport; pushing kids to excel is her nature, and her athletes love her because they know that she is not seeking personal glory--her motivation is those kids. Face it, when Dover swimming is mentioned, Brenda's face is what surfaces. I have watched her from a distance because my knowledge of competitive swimming is nil; what I have seen is someone who has an innate drive to succeed, to take others to the level she demands. She and her trustful sidekick coach have been together for many years, and they share the same drive. Looking for excellence is her personality; as a person, no one is finer--she does her job, she interacts freely with her peers, and she maintains an enviable respect from her swimmers and co-workers. She understands how to win--disciplined, tough, and humble. As a swimming coach, she has led her program to heights never before reached in Dover--say what you want, I treasure this woman's contributions to our community.
I came to Dover over twenty years ago because I was going to have the opportunity to teach at a larger school than Strasburg, to confront a challenge that I welcomed, and to coach with Bobby Von Kaenel, a friend and opponent for a large part of my life. Something told me that this was an opportune moment in my career--nothing has ever changed that belief. Interestingly, Bobby and I had not always gotten along that well. I remembered one time when we were coaching against each other in a year when his team was strong and mine wasn't--I felt he had run up the score in an attempt to get a kid a record of some kind. As a result, for a few weeks, I was not enamored by him. In time, however, my poutiness subsided, and I realized that what we shared was an intense love of basketball and a fierce drive to win--in short, we were far more similar than I would have ever guessed. Over the past twenty-plus years, he has led our boys' teams to heights never before attained in Dover. I always understood one crucial point: Bobby was the boss, the leader, the one who steered the ship. My role was second fiddle, one I loved to play because it allowed me to stay behind the scenes and teach my players. During that time, he had various other assistants contribute, all effective and extremely competent men. In sum, our staff was largely intact for all those years. What I learned, though, is that the public Bobby--the occasional ranting and raving coach--is not the real Bobby. The real guy is the one who loves to work with kids, who continues to stay in constant touch with so many former players, the one those former players turn to for periodic advice, and the one who will drop everything to assist them. Like all of us, of course, he has his detractors--occupational hazard, believe me. Know this, however: He understands how to win--disciplined, tough, and humble--say what you want, I treasure this man's contributions to our community.
If you read carefully, you will see that four mantras are repeated in each description:
*All are disciplined, tough, and humble;
*All have maintained loyal and long-standing staffs;
*All have led their programs to heights never before reached in Dover.
*Longevity + Stability = Success . . . and I have to guess that much of the dislike of Dover from others is triggered by the above-described formula.
I write these words not to bestow additional praise on these three outstanding coaches; no, my point is this: We here in Dover are living in a gilded age. For the past two decades, we have had the tremendous fortune to watch three future Hall of Fame coaches work their trade at the same time at the same school. They win, they lead, they demand excellence, and we expect it. Trust me, the pressure to continue excelling takes its toll, but these three have endured. It is no secret that these individuals are inching closer to their careers ending--this era is not going to last forever, but, for right now, we have them--they are ours to watch, to enjoy, and, most importantly, to appreciate.
A time will come when we will look back and say, "You remember those coaches? Wow, what memories." Folks, enjoy what we have right now; yea, we're spoiled, spoiled rotten . . . enjoy the ride, my friends.
Tuesday, March 10, 2015
What Scares Us?
The Core, The Testing, The Results, The Pressure, The Answer.
I begin today by presenting two proposals (rather lengthy, I'm afraid):
1. Parents should remain neutral regarding the Common Core and its related testing because their fears do nothing to advance any changes in education.
2. The test results should not be shared with any parents or students for two years because the data should only be used for teaching and curriculum alterations.
As anyone who has written proposals knows, a simple formula must be followed: A should do B because of C (D/E/F . . .). I have made my points. Now, before my name is disgraced or I am subject to ridicule, please allow me the courtesy to explain my logic--not my emotion, my logic!
I realize I may tick a few people off with my thoughts today . . . good--if it makes the readers think and not simply hop on the Common Core = Bad bandwagon without fully digesting and understanding its purpose, then I will have accomplished my objective. As I have written many times, intelligent people examine all sides of issues before voicing opinions; bandwagon jumpers follow the crowd and often go with the loudest voice in the room. Please consider my voice to be an informed, reasonable perspective. I must add that my perspective accounts for high school topics only; I have no experience or expertise dealing with the elementary standards, so before the elementary folks get riled up, they need to write their own blog and explain their reasoning.
What scares us about the Core? Is it the legislative-provoked testing OR is it the actual Core? Please understand that the two are not the same. The Core is a set of standards; the tests are part of an evaluation tool that does not yet count in student evaluations--please make sure when discussing that we realize that the Core is not all-inclusive.
The Core, in its barest form, is a set of consistent standards that allow for kids regardless of where they go to school to be learning certain fundamental concepts. Like the human body, the Core is the center of learning. To expound that analogy, anyone with a back issue is first told to build up their core, their stomach muscles. Without strength and stability in that area, the back muscles are forced to work overtime. Translated, without a strong Core of learning, students will not be able to advance their learning to the degree expected of a high school graduate. In short, students will become stuck: if they have not mastered certain fundamentals and learned certain concepts, their futures become limited.
Let's not kid ourselves: We keep thinking kids today are not as well prepared as we were . . . how wrong we are. In any school in America, certain realities exist: A certain number of kids will be the A/B students, a certain number will be the D/F students, and the bulk will be the C students--that is right: the greatest cluster is in the middle, which is why it is called "average." The majority of our population consists of average people, but the leaders--the shakers and the movers--are oftentimes the overachieving upper level students. As my beloved junior high school principal Neil Compton once told me in talking about those kids who struggle academically, "Every play has to have someone pull the curtain--we can't all memorize the lines." That breakdown of student achievement has been present for as long as schools have existed.
My point is that regardless of what is taught and what is tested, percentages indicate that the same breakdown is going to occur: top, bottom, with a middle cluster. Certainly, at the outset, until kids and teachers are entirely comfortable with the Core standards and the testing, performance is going to suffer--that is obvious, isn't it? Maybe not . . . time for a quick history lesson and a peek behind the imaginary curtain. Currently, we have the OGT (Ohio Graduation Tests); students throughout the state do quite well on those tests. Ever wonder why? Check the grading scales, my friends--the state adjusts the grading scales, but, for the most part, a score of approximately 55% passes. You read that right. When the results are reviewed, what educators learn are that a certain number excel, a bunch are in the middle, and a few do not pass. When the grading scale is lowered, the results are certain to pass those kids at the bottom. They pass--wonderful. In short, the numbers reflect intellectual growth, don't they? But what if the grading scale is raised . . . now what? Maybe we are not so content with our numbers . . . and, from my seat, that is exactly where part of the fear creeps into the picture.
A few years ago I served on a well-run, equal-representation committee that examined Dover High School's Grading Scale. Sparing the reader the details, I, as a member on the committee, recommended that the Board of Education lower our grading scale. As stated, I will confess to voting in favor of it within the committee, but I will also admit to being opposed to the concept. What I saw was this: if we lowered the grading scale, more kids would experience success, therefore maybe accelerating their self esteem. I understood the argument, but the idea of lowering a scale troubled me. That hesitation then is resurfacing today.
We want our kids to be successful, make no mistake. So, again, I ask: What scares us about the Core and testing? Are we afraid that kids are not as advanced as we parents expect? Standardized testing humbles us, make no mistake. The ACT and SAT, for example, oftentimes frustrate those "A" students who do not score well because those tests set a high standard that many kids simply are not prepared to face their reality. From my experience as a college professor, I am quite comfortable saying that many of my students who supposedly were "A" students in high schools really fit more into the "C" (average) territory. In short, please understand that grade inflation has become a major issue, and, as a result, we fear that our kids--if pressed to perform on concept mastery--may fail or, at the least, be proven to not be as advanced as we might think. So, while their self-esteem may be bumped because they benefitted from a lax grade scale (and the dreaded "extra credit"), odds are that self-esteem may be shattered at one point in the future.
Is that what clusters of parents are fearing . . . that their children will not be as successful as those parents would expect, thus lowering their kids' self-esteem? That is part of the issue, but again please allow me to explain a point. Back in the day, I feared my parents ever fighting a battle on my behalf; I knew what I was responsible for learning, and, yes, I feared having to face my parents when I did not succeed. However, I knew it was my fault. In today's world, parents have somehow gotten the idea that they frequently need to fight on behalf of their children. Granted, when problems persist, maybe intervention is a viable solution, but let me stress that most kids absolutely dread their parents fighting their battles. Kids often have to live with the silent ridicule presented by fellow students when parents step to the forefront. It is a rare child who is proud of his or her parents fighting the fight . . . talk about a self esteem issue that can result! Academics are merely a part of the whole growing up challenge; a larger part is the development of the self. When parents intervene, realize that kids can become dependent on someone else (parent!) fighting their fights for them. In the long run, who suffers the most: the kid whose parent decided to take an arbitrary stand or the kid who learned his strengths and weaknesses? Parents, take a break--your kids will appreciate it. If we are going to take a stand and forbid our kids from taking a test, for example, that merely establishes baseline data so administrators and teachers can begin tweaking the test so that it ultimately is fair and truly reflective of the standards, what are we really running from--fear of failure? What are we truly teaching our kids?
This testing is a pain in the butt, I agree, but they are roll-out tests, meaning that they are a starting point. Let the tests unfold, let the growing pains emerge, and then let's get these tests where they are meaningful tools from which we can learn. Please do not be so naïve as to think that all testing is going away . . . it is not. Examine the real world: doctors, lawyers, teachers, technicians, hair stylists, vocationally educated students, as mere examples, must all take exit exams to prove their competency. Why not "regular" students? The Core's creed is to prepare students for college and to prepare those students not interested or qualified to attend college for the work world they are about to enter. The more fight that parents and anti-groups present, the more I hear "protect these poor kids from these bad adults because they want to hurt you!" What I wish I was hearing was this: "Take the tests, do what is expected, and let's see where all this leads."
My final point is simple: Forget sharing the first two years of results with parents--it accomplishes nothing to share the results. As I indicated, use the information for data and evidence, tweak the tests, make improvements, so that by the third year the tests are ready to go, the students will have had a few years of exposure to the standards, and the data will be an honest reflection of kids' progress, just one part of the whole puzzle.
What will we find in three years? Probably a select few will be at the top, a certain few will be at the bottom, and a large cluster will be in the middle . . . sound familiar?
mag.gunther@gmail.com
guntherm@roadrunner.com
I begin today by presenting two proposals (rather lengthy, I'm afraid):
1. Parents should remain neutral regarding the Common Core and its related testing because their fears do nothing to advance any changes in education.
2. The test results should not be shared with any parents or students for two years because the data should only be used for teaching and curriculum alterations.
As anyone who has written proposals knows, a simple formula must be followed: A should do B because of C (D/E/F . . .). I have made my points. Now, before my name is disgraced or I am subject to ridicule, please allow me the courtesy to explain my logic--not my emotion, my logic!
I realize I may tick a few people off with my thoughts today . . . good--if it makes the readers think and not simply hop on the Common Core = Bad bandwagon without fully digesting and understanding its purpose, then I will have accomplished my objective. As I have written many times, intelligent people examine all sides of issues before voicing opinions; bandwagon jumpers follow the crowd and often go with the loudest voice in the room. Please consider my voice to be an informed, reasonable perspective. I must add that my perspective accounts for high school topics only; I have no experience or expertise dealing with the elementary standards, so before the elementary folks get riled up, they need to write their own blog and explain their reasoning.
What scares us about the Core? Is it the legislative-provoked testing OR is it the actual Core? Please understand that the two are not the same. The Core is a set of standards; the tests are part of an evaluation tool that does not yet count in student evaluations--please make sure when discussing that we realize that the Core is not all-inclusive.
The Core, in its barest form, is a set of consistent standards that allow for kids regardless of where they go to school to be learning certain fundamental concepts. Like the human body, the Core is the center of learning. To expound that analogy, anyone with a back issue is first told to build up their core, their stomach muscles. Without strength and stability in that area, the back muscles are forced to work overtime. Translated, without a strong Core of learning, students will not be able to advance their learning to the degree expected of a high school graduate. In short, students will become stuck: if they have not mastered certain fundamentals and learned certain concepts, their futures become limited.
Let's not kid ourselves: We keep thinking kids today are not as well prepared as we were . . . how wrong we are. In any school in America, certain realities exist: A certain number of kids will be the A/B students, a certain number will be the D/F students, and the bulk will be the C students--that is right: the greatest cluster is in the middle, which is why it is called "average." The majority of our population consists of average people, but the leaders--the shakers and the movers--are oftentimes the overachieving upper level students. As my beloved junior high school principal Neil Compton once told me in talking about those kids who struggle academically, "Every play has to have someone pull the curtain--we can't all memorize the lines." That breakdown of student achievement has been present for as long as schools have existed.
My point is that regardless of what is taught and what is tested, percentages indicate that the same breakdown is going to occur: top, bottom, with a middle cluster. Certainly, at the outset, until kids and teachers are entirely comfortable with the Core standards and the testing, performance is going to suffer--that is obvious, isn't it? Maybe not . . . time for a quick history lesson and a peek behind the imaginary curtain. Currently, we have the OGT (Ohio Graduation Tests); students throughout the state do quite well on those tests. Ever wonder why? Check the grading scales, my friends--the state adjusts the grading scales, but, for the most part, a score of approximately 55% passes. You read that right. When the results are reviewed, what educators learn are that a certain number excel, a bunch are in the middle, and a few do not pass. When the grading scale is lowered, the results are certain to pass those kids at the bottom. They pass--wonderful. In short, the numbers reflect intellectual growth, don't they? But what if the grading scale is raised . . . now what? Maybe we are not so content with our numbers . . . and, from my seat, that is exactly where part of the fear creeps into the picture.
A few years ago I served on a well-run, equal-representation committee that examined Dover High School's Grading Scale. Sparing the reader the details, I, as a member on the committee, recommended that the Board of Education lower our grading scale. As stated, I will confess to voting in favor of it within the committee, but I will also admit to being opposed to the concept. What I saw was this: if we lowered the grading scale, more kids would experience success, therefore maybe accelerating their self esteem. I understood the argument, but the idea of lowering a scale troubled me. That hesitation then is resurfacing today.
We want our kids to be successful, make no mistake. So, again, I ask: What scares us about the Core and testing? Are we afraid that kids are not as advanced as we parents expect? Standardized testing humbles us, make no mistake. The ACT and SAT, for example, oftentimes frustrate those "A" students who do not score well because those tests set a high standard that many kids simply are not prepared to face their reality. From my experience as a college professor, I am quite comfortable saying that many of my students who supposedly were "A" students in high schools really fit more into the "C" (average) territory. In short, please understand that grade inflation has become a major issue, and, as a result, we fear that our kids--if pressed to perform on concept mastery--may fail or, at the least, be proven to not be as advanced as we might think. So, while their self-esteem may be bumped because they benefitted from a lax grade scale (and the dreaded "extra credit"), odds are that self-esteem may be shattered at one point in the future.
Is that what clusters of parents are fearing . . . that their children will not be as successful as those parents would expect, thus lowering their kids' self-esteem? That is part of the issue, but again please allow me to explain a point. Back in the day, I feared my parents ever fighting a battle on my behalf; I knew what I was responsible for learning, and, yes, I feared having to face my parents when I did not succeed. However, I knew it was my fault. In today's world, parents have somehow gotten the idea that they frequently need to fight on behalf of their children. Granted, when problems persist, maybe intervention is a viable solution, but let me stress that most kids absolutely dread their parents fighting their battles. Kids often have to live with the silent ridicule presented by fellow students when parents step to the forefront. It is a rare child who is proud of his or her parents fighting the fight . . . talk about a self esteem issue that can result! Academics are merely a part of the whole growing up challenge; a larger part is the development of the self. When parents intervene, realize that kids can become dependent on someone else (parent!) fighting their fights for them. In the long run, who suffers the most: the kid whose parent decided to take an arbitrary stand or the kid who learned his strengths and weaknesses? Parents, take a break--your kids will appreciate it. If we are going to take a stand and forbid our kids from taking a test, for example, that merely establishes baseline data so administrators and teachers can begin tweaking the test so that it ultimately is fair and truly reflective of the standards, what are we really running from--fear of failure? What are we truly teaching our kids?
This testing is a pain in the butt, I agree, but they are roll-out tests, meaning that they are a starting point. Let the tests unfold, let the growing pains emerge, and then let's get these tests where they are meaningful tools from which we can learn. Please do not be so naïve as to think that all testing is going away . . . it is not. Examine the real world: doctors, lawyers, teachers, technicians, hair stylists, vocationally educated students, as mere examples, must all take exit exams to prove their competency. Why not "regular" students? The Core's creed is to prepare students for college and to prepare those students not interested or qualified to attend college for the work world they are about to enter. The more fight that parents and anti-groups present, the more I hear "protect these poor kids from these bad adults because they want to hurt you!" What I wish I was hearing was this: "Take the tests, do what is expected, and let's see where all this leads."
My final point is simple: Forget sharing the first two years of results with parents--it accomplishes nothing to share the results. As I indicated, use the information for data and evidence, tweak the tests, make improvements, so that by the third year the tests are ready to go, the students will have had a few years of exposure to the standards, and the data will be an honest reflection of kids' progress, just one part of the whole puzzle.
What will we find in three years? Probably a select few will be at the top, a certain few will be at the bottom, and a large cluster will be in the middle . . . sound familiar?
mag.gunther@gmail.com
guntherm@roadrunner.com
Wednesday, March 4, 2015
Views from the Hot Seat...: What Miserable Lives We Lead!
Views from the Hot Seat...: What Miserable Lives We Lead!: My heavens, what miserable lives we lead! From streets not being plowed to our exact specifications . . . to government agencies not know...
What Miserable Lives We Lead!
My heavens, what miserable lives we lead!
From streets not being plowed to our exact specifications . . . to government agencies not knowing how to spend money the way we want . . . to school boards being set on bankrupting its local citizenry . . . to coaches trying to screw kids out of playing time . . . to schools raising educational standards attempting to make our children suffer from low self esteem . . . to town councils negotiating for free garbage cans . . . the list goes on.
Wow! I am overwhelmed with the negativity I frequently hear and usually read in our local 30 Seconds column and numerous letters to the editor . . . are we really that angry with life?
I am alarmed--and I guess somewhat amused--by what I am detecting. For whatever reason, an anger pervades many people's lives. While I clearly understand that personal issues and family disruption are serious matters that certainly can lead to a pessimistic life approach, I am finding that many are just plain ticked off at life in general. Maybe it is the result of a long winter, but the negativity I have been hearing has its roots far beyond these past few months. Rather, what I hear is more deep rooted, an anger at authority and a mistrust in practically everything.
What concerns me is that I know how being negative can have a snowball effect on attitudes. I have been in those environments and have found myself adopting the attitudes of those who complained the most. Stories could be shared, but that would merely clutter the point: Negativity breeds negativity. . . and that is not me. I try to be a half-full kind of person, seeing the brighter side of most situations. Yes, I confess to walking the line on a few matters, most notably the Browns and their persistent attempt to PO any loyal fan, and LeBron James, who wears me out with his frequent 1 on 5 mentality, but I do try to get past the negative and look at the positives. Having said that, I offer a few thoughts that are running through my mind at the moment.
It bothers me when . . .
*people complain about street plowing. It's the middle of an Ohio winter, miles and miles of roads need to be cleaned, some people won't move their cars--I have serious doubts that the workers driving the plow trucks are slacking in their responsibility; in fact, we should praise them for working ungodly hours so we can get to work or wherever we are headed.
*people are uninformed about issues, whether they be national, state, or local. As I have stated in previous blogs, when we do not read, we really have no idea what is going on . . . but, boy, do we have opinions. I have a hard time discussing something when the individual I am talking with has only an opinion with little actual knowledge except limited experience with something quasi-related.
*people criticize elected officials particularly at the local level. In this "neck of the woods," the difficulty of getting potential candidates is staggering. Most people want to criticize, but few want to "stick their necks out" and become part of the process. My hunch is that is because most people choose to be uninformed relying most heavily on what they think, not what they truly know. Also, let's face it: public officials do meet resistance from time to time--not that many people have thick enough skin to handle criticism.
*people criticize the raises that "other" people receive, as if implying that nobody but their own selves deserve raises. The American dream is predicated upon getting an education or a skill, developing that talent, and making the most of one's abilities. When that happens, why not applaud those individuals rather than allowing a jealous attitude to emerge? I have a difficult time begrudging anyone's salary particularly when the "little guy" receives a pay increase reflecting job performance and perhaps longevity--congrats is my take.
Bottom line for me is that we live in a relatively safe locale, our schools are the centers of our communities and we are quite proud of them, and our taxes--despite our protests--are much lower than practically any surrounding county. Folks, the valley certainly is not paradise, but it is our home--treasure it . . . unless our lives are so disgruntled that we just can't get past the misery!
From streets not being plowed to our exact specifications . . . to government agencies not knowing how to spend money the way we want . . . to school boards being set on bankrupting its local citizenry . . . to coaches trying to screw kids out of playing time . . . to schools raising educational standards attempting to make our children suffer from low self esteem . . . to town councils negotiating for free garbage cans . . . the list goes on.
Wow! I am overwhelmed with the negativity I frequently hear and usually read in our local 30 Seconds column and numerous letters to the editor . . . are we really that angry with life?
I am alarmed--and I guess somewhat amused--by what I am detecting. For whatever reason, an anger pervades many people's lives. While I clearly understand that personal issues and family disruption are serious matters that certainly can lead to a pessimistic life approach, I am finding that many are just plain ticked off at life in general. Maybe it is the result of a long winter, but the negativity I have been hearing has its roots far beyond these past few months. Rather, what I hear is more deep rooted, an anger at authority and a mistrust in practically everything.
What concerns me is that I know how being negative can have a snowball effect on attitudes. I have been in those environments and have found myself adopting the attitudes of those who complained the most. Stories could be shared, but that would merely clutter the point: Negativity breeds negativity. . . and that is not me. I try to be a half-full kind of person, seeing the brighter side of most situations. Yes, I confess to walking the line on a few matters, most notably the Browns and their persistent attempt to PO any loyal fan, and LeBron James, who wears me out with his frequent 1 on 5 mentality, but I do try to get past the negative and look at the positives. Having said that, I offer a few thoughts that are running through my mind at the moment.
It bothers me when . . .
*people complain about street plowing. It's the middle of an Ohio winter, miles and miles of roads need to be cleaned, some people won't move their cars--I have serious doubts that the workers driving the plow trucks are slacking in their responsibility; in fact, we should praise them for working ungodly hours so we can get to work or wherever we are headed.
*people are uninformed about issues, whether they be national, state, or local. As I have stated in previous blogs, when we do not read, we really have no idea what is going on . . . but, boy, do we have opinions. I have a hard time discussing something when the individual I am talking with has only an opinion with little actual knowledge except limited experience with something quasi-related.
*people criticize elected officials particularly at the local level. In this "neck of the woods," the difficulty of getting potential candidates is staggering. Most people want to criticize, but few want to "stick their necks out" and become part of the process. My hunch is that is because most people choose to be uninformed relying most heavily on what they think, not what they truly know. Also, let's face it: public officials do meet resistance from time to time--not that many people have thick enough skin to handle criticism.
*people criticize the raises that "other" people receive, as if implying that nobody but their own selves deserve raises. The American dream is predicated upon getting an education or a skill, developing that talent, and making the most of one's abilities. When that happens, why not applaud those individuals rather than allowing a jealous attitude to emerge? I have a difficult time begrudging anyone's salary particularly when the "little guy" receives a pay increase reflecting job performance and perhaps longevity--congrats is my take.
Bottom line for me is that we live in a relatively safe locale, our schools are the centers of our communities and we are quite proud of them, and our taxes--despite our protests--are much lower than practically any surrounding county. Folks, the valley certainly is not paradise, but it is our home--treasure it . . . unless our lives are so disgruntled that we just can't get past the misery!
Tuesday, February 24, 2015
Coaching: Thoughts and Ramblings
Parents are subjective; coaches are objective . . . therein lies the major dilemma that has confronted athletes, parents, relatives, and friends of the aforementioned for as long as anyone wishes to consider.
Commonly these days, I am asked if I miss coaching. My response is mixed: "Sometimes, yea; sometimes, nah." To establish a sense of credibility, I coached athletics for thirty-five years including freshman, junior varsity, and varsity basketball; middle school track; and junior high and varsity assistant football. In addition, I observed our two daughters participate in various sports throughout their lives. Having mentioned those points, I have experienced many situations that have allowed me to feel somewhat credible in making my observations. With that said, here we go:
*Please refer to the first sentence, first paragraph: Coaches and parents are seldom going to be on the same page. Parents have watched their kids' involvement in organized sports, perhaps before the kids even began attending school. From those experiences, those same parents oftentimes have developed a strong belief that their kids are (A) really good; (B) not being treated fairly by their coaches; or (C) average athletes. I suppose a (D), (E), or (F) could be added, but I will go with my three. Many parents are former athletes, thus inspiring their kids to emulate them if at all possible; others have never played much organized sports, yet their expertise is still sometimes shared. Somewhere in the equation, we establish that our kids' performances may have a direct connection to us--if our kids are lazy, then everyone will think we as parents are, too; likewise, if kids perform consistently well, then as parents, we will be viewed in the same positive light.
As those same kids develop, however, a whole bunch of different scenarios arise--kids center their lives around sports and make their whole identity as athletes, kids continue involvement because they realize sports can be a social magnet helping bring popularity, or kids sometimes continue simply because they love the sports they play; on the other hand, kids run from sports because they tire of the pressure exerted by parents and coaches, kids simply tire of the time commitments, or, most frequently, kids cannot accept their roles on a team. My point is as the kids grow and mature into high school athletes, so many changes can occur . . . and so often parents refuse to accept what those changes are. As a high school coach, I have had many, many confrontations with parents who have been determined to convince me that I am the reason their children have not been able to achieve the athletic success they envision. The common refrain, of course, has almost always been that "you never give him a chance." I have always tried to rationalize that statement, but, unfortunately, I have never been able to do so: I watch practice every day, I watch the kids compete against each other in drills and live competition, I watch video tape, and I observe nonverbal practice behavior on a daily basis . . . none of which the parents have been able to do. In short, my job as a coach is to remain as objective as I possibly can--I cannot be influenced if a certain kid's parents are my friends or a certain kid has a particular name. I have to be objective . . .I still recall a parent calling me on the phone accusing me of playing a certain kid--not his--because the other kid's parents were friends of mine; little did that dad realize that just a week earlier I had heard the same comment from the other kid's parent about my not playing his kid for the same reason! My question: Why would a coach deliberately sabotage a kid? Fortunately, that is not how it works. A coach's job involves many aspects, but one of them is certainly not how can I screw this kid over. I suppose I could repeat that numerous times and many will still not believe me, but my truth, again, is that a coach has many responsibilities . . . but a key one is determining who is going to provide the team the best chance to perform well . . . objectively, not subjectively.
*Coaching provides a tremendous connection with kids. Looking back, I can easily say that my greatest satisfaction in coaching has been the relationships that I have created. Kids can sometimes be frustrating, but, most frequently, they put a smile on my face. When a team is together as much as a high school sport demands, it is inevitable that a mutual respect will probably emerge--I didn't say that the relationship will always be happy, but the chances of the relationship being enduring are quite strong. Interacting with kids in ways that a typical classroom environment cannot provide allows coaches to see kids in a world unknown to most teachers . . . and from that both players and coaches know each other much more in-depth. I would not trade those relationships for anything--winning provides a wonderful feeling, and oftentimes an overripe ego, but the rapport with and memories of those kids mean far more.
*One of the hardest parts of coaching is the disciplining that often must be done. Like parents who must keep their children in line, so do coaches. While in-home discipline can often be kept within the family, coaching discipline is often played out in public and frequently discussed among the locals. Every coach has to draw a proverbial line in the sand, but that same coach realizes that each kid is different; I am convinced that many observers believe that all rules must be enforced exactly as they are written, to the letter . . . sounds good, but good luck with that. Each kid is wired differently--one may be high strung, one may be able to accept criticism, one may be threatened by any criticism, one may need an arm around his shoulder, one may need explanation away from his teammates . . . the list goes on, but my point should be clear. It is easy from a distance to say this or that should have been done, but understanding each situation and reacting accordingly is the key. Coaching is teaching, in the event that is forgotten. When we teach, we must accept that kids are not all the same, and neither are they in coaching. However, sometimes discipline must be enforced, and when that happens, most frequently the reaction will be split: some will say it was fair, some will say the kid is being picked on, and some will say that the punishment should have been more severe. Bottom line is that the coach has to make a decision, accepting that his choice is going to be met with polarized responses.
*To be a coach, one prerequisite is to have thick skin, realizing that being criticized is part of the game--deserved or not. Our society takes sports quite seriously, and, as a result, we coaches must accept that others are going to frequently have different views than we do. Over the years, I have learned to keep my thoughts guarded, to do my job the way I feel it should be done, to "keep my friends close and my enemies even closer." Coaching has cost me friendships--while it is not an everyday occurrence, I certainly have encountered people who will turn their backs to me when they see me, who will refuse to respond when I say hello, and who will simply refuse to even look at me. While today I laugh at the pettiness of those reactions, I realize that most of the time those individuals have targeted me as the cause of their kids' lack of success or their kids' lack of talent. In short, they have someone to blame; if that person happens to be me, so be it.
*The responsibility of being a coach is immense--coaches frequently become a "face" in a community, good or bad. Recognizing and accepting this is important because we become visible to a whole bunch of people, whether we realize it or not. Establishing a reputation is part of the spinoff from coaching--people notice us, providing yet another opportunity for opinions to be made. It is easy to describe coaches as arrogant, and many of us are, but the truth is that most coaches are guarded, as described previously. I have always prided myself on staying away from parents, for example, because I realize that at some point I am going to make them mad. Thus, when I walk into Buehler's or WalMart, I try my best to get what I need and get out of there--getting cornered to discuss why a kid is not playing in a basketball game is not what I envision when I enter a grocery store, but I know that it might happen. In addition, many times people just want to get to know us--they see us coaching but do not know us beyond that arena. Those conversations are quite welcomed--I have learned that coaches must appreciate their elevated roles within a school.
*A beauty of coaching is "connecting the dots"; just like someone putting together a puzzle, coaches welcome the challenge of matching their players' strengths and weaknesses, combining them into a finished product. When the pieces fit, the picture often is what we would describe as "beautiful"--we cut, paste, and refine the parts until we get the product we desire--I do really miss that, I must confess.
*Time to bring all these ramblings together: Coaching is an extremely rewarding profession that dominates a person's life. The emotional ups and downs that accompany it provide a stress that can easily age someone before his or her time; the rewards of winning and building relationships are immeasurable; the gut-wrenching stab of losing can lower one's self-esteem, make the coach question his or her priorities, and often lead to physical health issues. So, in answer to the question of "Do I miss coaching?" my response is actually quite simple: My life is much more peaceful these days because I am no longer on the emotional roller coaster of coaching; I miss the camaraderie with fellow coaches/players and the competition, but I am sleeping full nights without much interruption. When I see former players, I am greeted by handshakes and hugs . . . what those kids don't really appreciate just yet is that those gestures have made it all worthwhile . . . that was the true beauty of coaching for me.
*******
In response to inquiries, if any reader has missed my postings, the collection may be found at the following: michaelagunther.blogspot.com. Responses may also be sent to my email at mag.gunther@gmail.com or guntherm@roadrunner.com.
Commonly these days, I am asked if I miss coaching. My response is mixed: "Sometimes, yea; sometimes, nah." To establish a sense of credibility, I coached athletics for thirty-five years including freshman, junior varsity, and varsity basketball; middle school track; and junior high and varsity assistant football. In addition, I observed our two daughters participate in various sports throughout their lives. Having mentioned those points, I have experienced many situations that have allowed me to feel somewhat credible in making my observations. With that said, here we go:
*Please refer to the first sentence, first paragraph: Coaches and parents are seldom going to be on the same page. Parents have watched their kids' involvement in organized sports, perhaps before the kids even began attending school. From those experiences, those same parents oftentimes have developed a strong belief that their kids are (A) really good; (B) not being treated fairly by their coaches; or (C) average athletes. I suppose a (D), (E), or (F) could be added, but I will go with my three. Many parents are former athletes, thus inspiring their kids to emulate them if at all possible; others have never played much organized sports, yet their expertise is still sometimes shared. Somewhere in the equation, we establish that our kids' performances may have a direct connection to us--if our kids are lazy, then everyone will think we as parents are, too; likewise, if kids perform consistently well, then as parents, we will be viewed in the same positive light.
As those same kids develop, however, a whole bunch of different scenarios arise--kids center their lives around sports and make their whole identity as athletes, kids continue involvement because they realize sports can be a social magnet helping bring popularity, or kids sometimes continue simply because they love the sports they play; on the other hand, kids run from sports because they tire of the pressure exerted by parents and coaches, kids simply tire of the time commitments, or, most frequently, kids cannot accept their roles on a team. My point is as the kids grow and mature into high school athletes, so many changes can occur . . . and so often parents refuse to accept what those changes are. As a high school coach, I have had many, many confrontations with parents who have been determined to convince me that I am the reason their children have not been able to achieve the athletic success they envision. The common refrain, of course, has almost always been that "you never give him a chance." I have always tried to rationalize that statement, but, unfortunately, I have never been able to do so: I watch practice every day, I watch the kids compete against each other in drills and live competition, I watch video tape, and I observe nonverbal practice behavior on a daily basis . . . none of which the parents have been able to do. In short, my job as a coach is to remain as objective as I possibly can--I cannot be influenced if a certain kid's parents are my friends or a certain kid has a particular name. I have to be objective . . .I still recall a parent calling me on the phone accusing me of playing a certain kid--not his--because the other kid's parents were friends of mine; little did that dad realize that just a week earlier I had heard the same comment from the other kid's parent about my not playing his kid for the same reason! My question: Why would a coach deliberately sabotage a kid? Fortunately, that is not how it works. A coach's job involves many aspects, but one of them is certainly not how can I screw this kid over. I suppose I could repeat that numerous times and many will still not believe me, but my truth, again, is that a coach has many responsibilities . . . but a key one is determining who is going to provide the team the best chance to perform well . . . objectively, not subjectively.
*Coaching provides a tremendous connection with kids. Looking back, I can easily say that my greatest satisfaction in coaching has been the relationships that I have created. Kids can sometimes be frustrating, but, most frequently, they put a smile on my face. When a team is together as much as a high school sport demands, it is inevitable that a mutual respect will probably emerge--I didn't say that the relationship will always be happy, but the chances of the relationship being enduring are quite strong. Interacting with kids in ways that a typical classroom environment cannot provide allows coaches to see kids in a world unknown to most teachers . . . and from that both players and coaches know each other much more in-depth. I would not trade those relationships for anything--winning provides a wonderful feeling, and oftentimes an overripe ego, but the rapport with and memories of those kids mean far more.
*One of the hardest parts of coaching is the disciplining that often must be done. Like parents who must keep their children in line, so do coaches. While in-home discipline can often be kept within the family, coaching discipline is often played out in public and frequently discussed among the locals. Every coach has to draw a proverbial line in the sand, but that same coach realizes that each kid is different; I am convinced that many observers believe that all rules must be enforced exactly as they are written, to the letter . . . sounds good, but good luck with that. Each kid is wired differently--one may be high strung, one may be able to accept criticism, one may be threatened by any criticism, one may need an arm around his shoulder, one may need explanation away from his teammates . . . the list goes on, but my point should be clear. It is easy from a distance to say this or that should have been done, but understanding each situation and reacting accordingly is the key. Coaching is teaching, in the event that is forgotten. When we teach, we must accept that kids are not all the same, and neither are they in coaching. However, sometimes discipline must be enforced, and when that happens, most frequently the reaction will be split: some will say it was fair, some will say the kid is being picked on, and some will say that the punishment should have been more severe. Bottom line is that the coach has to make a decision, accepting that his choice is going to be met with polarized responses.
*To be a coach, one prerequisite is to have thick skin, realizing that being criticized is part of the game--deserved or not. Our society takes sports quite seriously, and, as a result, we coaches must accept that others are going to frequently have different views than we do. Over the years, I have learned to keep my thoughts guarded, to do my job the way I feel it should be done, to "keep my friends close and my enemies even closer." Coaching has cost me friendships--while it is not an everyday occurrence, I certainly have encountered people who will turn their backs to me when they see me, who will refuse to respond when I say hello, and who will simply refuse to even look at me. While today I laugh at the pettiness of those reactions, I realize that most of the time those individuals have targeted me as the cause of their kids' lack of success or their kids' lack of talent. In short, they have someone to blame; if that person happens to be me, so be it.
*The responsibility of being a coach is immense--coaches frequently become a "face" in a community, good or bad. Recognizing and accepting this is important because we become visible to a whole bunch of people, whether we realize it or not. Establishing a reputation is part of the spinoff from coaching--people notice us, providing yet another opportunity for opinions to be made. It is easy to describe coaches as arrogant, and many of us are, but the truth is that most coaches are guarded, as described previously. I have always prided myself on staying away from parents, for example, because I realize that at some point I am going to make them mad. Thus, when I walk into Buehler's or WalMart, I try my best to get what I need and get out of there--getting cornered to discuss why a kid is not playing in a basketball game is not what I envision when I enter a grocery store, but I know that it might happen. In addition, many times people just want to get to know us--they see us coaching but do not know us beyond that arena. Those conversations are quite welcomed--I have learned that coaches must appreciate their elevated roles within a school.
*A beauty of coaching is "connecting the dots"; just like someone putting together a puzzle, coaches welcome the challenge of matching their players' strengths and weaknesses, combining them into a finished product. When the pieces fit, the picture often is what we would describe as "beautiful"--we cut, paste, and refine the parts until we get the product we desire--I do really miss that, I must confess.
*Time to bring all these ramblings together: Coaching is an extremely rewarding profession that dominates a person's life. The emotional ups and downs that accompany it provide a stress that can easily age someone before his or her time; the rewards of winning and building relationships are immeasurable; the gut-wrenching stab of losing can lower one's self-esteem, make the coach question his or her priorities, and often lead to physical health issues. So, in answer to the question of "Do I miss coaching?" my response is actually quite simple: My life is much more peaceful these days because I am no longer on the emotional roller coaster of coaching; I miss the camaraderie with fellow coaches/players and the competition, but I am sleeping full nights without much interruption. When I see former players, I am greeted by handshakes and hugs . . . what those kids don't really appreciate just yet is that those gestures have made it all worthwhile . . . that was the true beauty of coaching for me.
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In response to inquiries, if any reader has missed my postings, the collection may be found at the following: michaelagunther.blogspot.com. Responses may also be sent to my email at mag.gunther@gmail.com or guntherm@roadrunner.com.
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