Why Utley’s Slide Matters to Youth Baseball

My older boy was playing a game last week in Fairfax County with his high school JV team.  This being his first experience with this level of baseball, it’s been quite the education for him.  For rather than play in the JV division, his team is playing other varsity teams, meaning big, strong kids with pitchers hurling well north of 80mph.

Gus has struggled a bit at the plate, as has almost every player, but he’s held his own.  And his team was holding a 3-1 lead going into the 7th inning of a well-contested battle.  Gus was catching, and our new pitcher was struggling badly.  He had already given up a run, had walked four batters, and they had the bases loaded with no one out.
When the count went to 3-2, we awaited the inevitable.  Our pitcher went into his stretch, came set, and…

THONK

…the lights went out.

10pm.  Nite-nite for this particular field.

The 7th inning ceases to exist, and we win 3-1.

As the gossamer batter threw his shadowy helmet to the ground in frustration, all of us parents looked at each other with a guilty grimace.

“That’s not a good ending for anybody,” said Joe, one of Gus’s former youth travel coaches, whose son is also on the team.

I am reminded of this given the ugly events that happened last night with Chase Utley breaking the leg of Ruben Tejada in the NLDS Game 2 between the Dodgers and my beloved Mets.  While the event wounded my not-so-inner Mets fan, it and the reaction to it hurt CoachN more.

Here’s what I posted on Facebook in an open letter to MLB:

Dear MLB.com you, and the umpires you employ, decided to show baseball-loving kids around the country that, so long as you think you can get away with it, it is okay to try and hurt a defenseless player because the play is so important.

I heard the talking heads on MLB Network talk about how catchers are now protected, so why not middle-infielders? THEY ARE PROTECTED! THERE IS A RULE! It just takes the minimal courage involved in simply doing your job.

This is made far worse by the fact that it was Chase Utley, a Hall of Fame-caliber ballplayer with a history of playing dirty. I’m not going to sugarcoat that. Hard-nosed is fine, it is great. But Utley has crossed that line multiple times, and your cringing from the proper course of action is an open encouragement for hyper-competitive players and coaches to think that somehow this is acceptable because, after all, the Dodgers won in the end.

Youth baseball, particularly at the travel level, is plagued by the “Winning is the Only Thing” mentality. It is a significant reason why participation in travel baseball is down across the country, as parents are increasingly wary of putting their children in a system where their values and priorities for their kids, such as fair play, respect for teammates and opponents, and that the competition is as important as the result, are subverted by a concept of the game that prioritizes results over process or even the rules themselves.

Your umpires, and then the subsequent confused, half-hearted, finger-pointing “defense” of what happened by Joe Torre only serves to reinforce this notion.

As a Mets fan, I was okay with losing last night. Not only did we already win one, the Mets have given me a thrilling season win-or lose. What you and your umpires have done by cowering away from upholding the rules damages the game in ways well beyond this game or this series, or even the Major Leagues itself.

As a father, a youth coach, and a fan, I am disgusted by everything that has happened during and after that play. You should be ashamed. I will certainly be addressing this with my players, as hopefully at least someone can learn the right lesson from this event.

With greatly diminished respect,
Scott Nathanson
Manager/Head Coach
CoachN’s FUNdamentals

Utley has now been suspended two games for the illegal slide.  As one Twitter poster noted, “I wonder if Tejada can appeal his broken leg?”  Of course, Utley has appealed, like a true bully refusing to admit he’s done anything wrong.

For while my son’s victory came with a bit of embarrassment to his team, Utley and the reaction by his Dodger teammates and Major League Baseball has embarrassed the game.

Making Mandela Meaningful to American Kids through Sport(s)

Sport has the power to unite people in a way that little else can. It can create hope where once there was only despair. It breaks down racial barriers. It laughs in the face of discrimination. Sport speaks to people in a language they can understand. – Nelson Mandela

I’ll get back to my baseball tale soon, but I simply must take the time out to honor the passing of what, as you might gather from this blog, is a personal hero.  Nelson Mandela was such a remarkable man in so many ways, and his journey from nonviolence to armed struggle and back to nonviolence, particularly because the road back was one taken while in captivity, is one of the most remarkable personal tales ever told—and it was told on a global stage.

But while most of us grownups remember Sun City, Biko, and the shantytowns built all over college campuses in the 80’s divestment movement, our kids have lived in a world where South Africa has been a non-issue on the American news stage.  Apartheid is history, and not one most schools teach to elementary and middle schoolers.  So on the day of his passing, I struggled to think about how to make this amazing man connect to my suburban white kids.

And then I remembered the quote from above, and the story of the 1995 rugby world cup that was captured in the movie Invictus, staring Morgan Freeman and Mandella.  I quickly scanned Netflix to see if it was streaming, but, alas, no dice.  Instead, I got even luckier, as the ESPN 30 for 30 documentary The 16th Man was ready to roll, and it is also available in its entirely on YouTube as embedded below.

We boys watched this just a couple of hours ago, and both pronounced it, “Very cool!”  I really can’t imagine a better hour spent with my kids today than watching this.  Much like the movie Lincoln gave you a measure of the full man by taking a small slice out if his life, The 16th Man gives you a sense of this pivotal moment in both South African and world history, and the enormity of his courage and his strategic thinking to bring a nation together that seemed virtually certain to be torn asunder by hatred, violence, and revenge.  I cannot imagine actors doing a better job in relating the personal and emotional journey that the South African rugby team went on than the players did themselves.

I think what makes this great for kids is that, at its center, this is a classic underdog sports story with a magical ending.  But the sport here transcends sports, and shows Mandela in a relatable and heroic light that is both true and resonant for today’s kids.

As we discussed it, my little guy immediately made the connection between Mandela and Rosa parks, and we also started an interesting discussion about the current flap over the name “Redskins” for Mandela took one of the most hated single symbols of the apartheid era, the Springbok of the national rugby team, and wore it on his head and his heart, even in the most uncomfortable of circumstances.

I’m so glad I had the chance to share that moment with my kids, and hope that Mandela’s spirit smiled a bit in knowing that his wisdom will continue to make a difference in children around the world who may not have even heard of him until today.

Rest well, Madiba, the epitome of a life well lived.

Jason Collins: The New 42

He’s not a fresh faced California kid with soft hands and cleats with wings. He’s a journeyman center who has probably played with half the players in the NBA.

But our kids need to understand that this is their Jackie Robinson moment.

I went to see 42 on Saturday and will have my review of it soon (a very good film overall), but I just wanted to urge each and every one of you out there to have your sons and daughters read and live through our very own 42 moment.

Jason Collins has become the first active player in professional team sports to declare openly that he is gay. This moment opens up endless opportunities to discuss differences, prejudice, and understanding with your kids. As Jackie Robinson’s journey showed the importance that sports had on the concept of race, I believe we are seeing something of equal importance here. As unlike the overwhelming horror of Syria, for example, something like this gives us a space that is easier to access with our kids as it is right where we live, both literally and figuratively.

And, luckily, Collins himself has written a fantastic piece for Sports Illustrated talking about who he is and why he is coming out now. He parallels with the civil rights movement with passages like this:

My maternal grandmother was apprehensive about my plans to come out. She grew up in rural Louisiana and witnessed the horrors of segregation. During the civil rights movement she saw great bravery play out amid the ugliest aspects of humanity. She worries that I am opening myself up to prejudice and hatred. I explained to her that in a way, my coming out is preemptive. I shouldn’t have to live under the threat of being outed. The announcement should be mine to make, not TMZ’s.

The hardest part of this is the realization that my entire family will be affected. But my relatives have told me repeatedly that as long as I’m happy, they’re there for me. I watch as my brother and friends from college start their own families. Changing diapers is a lot of work, but children bring so much joy. I’m crazy about my nieces and nephew, and I can’t wait to start a family of my own.

The fact that Collins has a long career already is, in some ways, an advantage. He doesn’t need to prove that he can play and coexist with straight men—he’s already done it. The fact that he has a straight twin brother who also plays in the NBA helps to dispel the myths that “it’s just at choice.”

Thank you for your bravery, Jason. Now please read, share, teach, and learn, and let’s all make the most out of this piece of living social history.

My Other Son

After birthing him from just an inkling of passion, it’s finally time to send him out into the world.

You’ve poured your soul into his development.  You remember arranging the playdates, a tinge of nervousness over whether he’d be liked, but still tucked away in the safety of your own control.  Even when he wasn’t quite right, it was always up to you to help fix it—to be his gentle guide toward completion.

But now you and are simultaneously so very proud and so absolutely terrified when it’s finally time to send him off, beyond the tentacles of your adoring care, into the arms of those charged with helping him become part of the larger world.  They can’t love him like you do.  See him like you do.  He’s so much a part of you that any issues, any hiccups, any failures can’t help but feel like a stain directly on your soul.

And yet, with that flutter in the belly that whisks your myriad insecurities with the intoxicating liquor of hope, you let go…

…and press the send button.

It’s funny that, even though I’ve sent more pitch letters to agents than I’d care to admit, it was only with today’s effort that I recognized the incredible emotional similarities between writing and parenting.

As checked my letter for the umpteen millionth time, the image of my doing that disgusting thing that all parents do—licking my fingers to get that smudge off my son’s face before school—darted through my mind.  As I noted the positive reaction that my “beta testing” group of 9 to 15-year-olds had to my manuscript, I was awash in memories of the G-men toddling with preschool friends while the parents passive-aggressively compared developmental statistics.

And the groaning strain in the pit of my stomach that leapt forth as soon as I clicked send?  Well, I have that same feeling just about each and every time Gus or Gunnar step to the plate.  Each ball that whirs toward them, each time they step gently forward and coil their hands in preparation to swing, the countless pitches I have thrown to them in the back yard circle around my gut like a whirlwind of abject fear and impossible optimism.

The biggest difference in sending AJ, the hero of The Adventures of…MightyDove!, off as compared to my other two boys (other than his non-living status, that is) is the fact that that Gus and Gunnar went off to a wonderful public school system where the experts are paid to help make the most out of their skills.  My other son doesn’t live in that socialist wonderland.  Instead, he faces the harsh reality of the marketplace.  No agent is compelled to take AJ in and help him grow up.  The boy of my brain has to earn his way into school even before trying to earn the grades to make him a success in life.

Dear Mr. Nathanson,

Thank you for your query. I’m sorry, but I have to pass on this one. While I appreciate the opportunity to consider your work, I don’t feel I connected enough with the material here to be the right agent for it. Please keep in mind that this business often comes down to personal taste, and another agent may feel differently about your project.

Again, thanks for thinking of me for this. I wish you the best of luck finding the right representation.

So that’s the latest one.  The nice thing is that AJ seems okay with it.  His Dad, however, is a bit more put out.  But then the faint sound of metal plinking soundly upon leather reverberates in my mind.  A ball struck solidly into the outfield, my boy making his triumphant turn toward second base.  I’ve thrown a million pitches and I’ll throw a million more to Gus and Gunnar in order to hear that sound…to have that feeling…once again.

And so I take a deep breath, reach back, and ready myself for another pitch.  After all, once you put the ball in the air, you never know what might happen.

Ain’t that a chair in the head

It’s always hard when he cries.  It has been ever since he was a baby.  It’s because of those eyes.  So huge…so blue.  Oceans of glistening sorrow designed to drown a parent’s heart.

But this time was different.  And it was all over one little 6th Grade reading assignment called a “Blog Prompt.”  He was supposed to take any quote he liked from a book he’s been reading and write up a short statement about why he liked it and how it moved the conflict of the story forward.

Thanks for making my son cry, fellas.

He chose a quote from The Hobbit, with Gandalf giving Bilbo a hard time over a simple “Good Morning.”  It’s a funny scene that is used in the film as well.  He and I briefly discussed how that seemingly small aside speaks to the larger plot and relationship between the two characters.  I didn’t feel I needed to say much, as it was a yawningly easy assignment by his straight-A standards.  So I went upstairs and left him with pencil and paper to take care of business.

When I came back down a half-hour later to get dinner ready, I found an ocean roiling at the table.  He had been able to write down Gandalf’s pithy jibes, but that is where his assignment ended.  “I can’t do it!” he cried out in frustration.  “I try to think about it, but nothing comes out!  It’s all jumbled up in my head.”

He looked defeated.

Exhausted.

Broken.

Yes, broken.  For that’s truly what he was. Two days earlier as he quietly sat and read, a heavy school chair came tumbling down on his head as his buddy behind him lost control trying to take it down from his desk.

Welcome to the world of parenting a child with head trauma.

A hero in life and art

As I was collecting the shards of my heart off the floor, my mind turned instantly to, what else, pop-culture.  I remembered an interview with Christopher Reeve and his wife Dana.  After the accident that left Superman a quadriplegic, she soothed his misery by saying, “Yes, your body is broken, but it’s still you.”  His mind was intact, and in his remaining time, he went on to be a forceful advocate for spinal injury research, act and direct in a very interesting version of Rear Window, and even return to the world of Superman by taking on a recurring role in Smallville.

But this bright, funny, introspective kid of mine simply wasn’t him.  Parts of him were there, but both emotionally and intellectually, a significant part of who he is was veiled behind scrambled neurotransmitters and the fog of chemicals that release with the onset of a brain injury.  As the doctor at the SCORE concussion center at Children’s Hospital explained to me, Gus, like other kids with significant concussions, have what amounts to a “software problem.”  It’s not inflammation or a typical bruise.  A concussion is more akin to a computer getting caught in a bad loop, only, as my wife cleverly put it, there is no CTRL-ALT-DEL to reset the system.

Instead, it is the maddening process of waiting, worrying, and, for me, attempting to keep the ghosts of my past at bay.  Until he starts to improve, Gus is really not supposed to do anything to intellectually stressful.  This makes avoiding boredom a real challenge, especially when TV is supposed to be doled out in very limited doses.  So when Gus brought out a deck of cards, I thought that was a great way to pass a little time.

Best…poker…ever.

He knew Blackjack, but he had never played Poker before and was curious to learn after seeing the crew of the Enterprise-D ante up on Star Trek: The Next Generation.  So I sat there teaching him the rules, and we spilled out popcorn kernels to serve as chips.  The look of delight on his face when he successfully bluffed me for the first time was priceless—mostly because it was an expression that looked like my Gus—a glimpse of what he used to be, and, yes, I know intellectually, what he will be again.

But that intellectual awareness couldn’t stop the memory of the last time I sat at a kitchen table and taught someone Poker.  I was a few years younger than Gus is now as I sat with my Grandpa Nat, who had come to stay with us after suffering a debilitating stroke.  I slowly explained the cards, and we played most hands face-up so I could give him strategy pointers.  He seemed to enjoy it, but all I could think of was that I was teaching this game to the man—the icon—who had taught it to me.

Shut up.

So as my boy slowly and bravely reboots, I have been made painfully aware that in terms of the sheer power of the emotion, concern trumps pride, anger, and, yes, even love.  Or as I think about it, maybe worry is more like a “force multiplier” if you’ll forgive the military terminology; enhancing all of those baseline emotions with an almost uncontrollable ferocity.

And it is why as I take this hopefully short stroll in the shoes of those parents with special needs kids, my already sincere respect turns to wonder and admiration.  Two weeks of this has been positively exhausting.  And while I understand the enormous strength and scar tissue a parent can generate when caring to the needs of a child, the mere concept of having this level of anxiety as a constant partner is close to unfathomable to me at the moment.

Ah, as I’m writing this, Gus just finished that darned blog prompt on his second try (City of Ember quote this time—he listened to the audiobook).  Small headache afterwards, but no problems and no tears.  So as a return to school is looking more imminent, I guess I have only one other job to do; choose the brand of bubble wrap I will be encasing him in for the rest of his life.  I wonder if they have Nationals’ colors.  He’ll like that, I’m sure.

Guns in America: Redefining Responsibility

I mean, THIS is the guy you want to hear about gun control?

And so before I turn back to my pop-culture strength (don’t think I haven’t noticed far more likes for my latest Read It and See It than for my gun control rants…), let me polish off my little suggestion on this important debate.

And so The Nerdy Blogger Dad Solutions to Gun Violence Act of 2013, as I’m sure the bill will come to be known, began with the ambitious proposal of mandating state or local police forces around the nation place two officers in every public school in the country.

Remember, it was the NRA itself that opened the door to this major initiative, and I’d have a hard time seeing even Wayne LaPierre arguing that there are any better “good guys with guns” than our own police.  But unless there’s a gun fairy that I am unaware of, we were going to need to pay these new cops.  To make this program an unfunded mandate would be unpalatable to liberals and conservatives alike.

But when we are filling these new police positions, what is it that we are paying them for?  To guard against the kind of horror we saw at Newtown, right?  Where a disturbed individual gained access to horribly destructive weapons that were legally in his mother’s collection.  If that is the case, then what we are paying for is the responsibility we have as a society for our 2nd Amendment right to bear arms.

There’s no Effing guarantee. Come on, sing it with me!

Freedom, my friends, isn’t free.

And that’s the potentially uncomfortable new prism of responsibility that I think those who support and participate in our armed society need to wrap their heads around.  The responsibilities of a gun owner don’t stop at keeping their weapons under lock-and-key.  They extend to the dangers as a whole that an armed society present as a whole.  The “legal” vs. “illegal” guns is a moot point, as virtually all the weapons in our society were produced legally and then over time through insufficient registration and background checks filtered into the black market.  It is simply yet another price we pay for our right to bear arms.

And so in order to pay for this program, I go back to the brilliant idea that my wife proposed: treat guns like we do another dangerous but legal commodity—cigarettes. For much like the smoker who may never fall ill still has to pay the taxes that go to help ameliorate the damage cigarettes do to society as a whole, so too would responsible gun owners be contributing to mitigate the larger costs of gun violence.

But guns are a different animal insofar as the fact that once a cigarette is smoked, it no longer poses a continued danger to society.  I therefore suggest not a sales tax on guns, but an annual fee on all guns owned, tiered by that weapon’s destructive capacity.  So if you want the right to have that AR-15 in your collection, you need to pay for the heavy price society has to pay when weapons of that type fall into the wrong hands.

Of course, the stickers will need to be a little smaller.

This would, of course, mean, that all gun sales and transfers, whether they be at gun shows, between brothers—you name it—would have to be reported and registered, as you need to know who has the gun to know who gets the bill.  And so I have little doubt that there are some gun owners out there that would be uncomfortable with having to tell the government which guns it has (though there really is no reasonable argument that it would be unconstitutional).  But if we have to register our cars, tell me why again we shouldn’t have to do the same for our guns?  Back to that public sentiment thing, a recent poll suggested that more than three quarters of Americans thought that gun registration was a good idea (and this one was even taken before Newtown).

Of course, this system could get gamed, but it would provide some financial disincentive for just trading guns around like playing cards, and progressively so for the most dangerous weapons available.  It would also make guns something that isn’t a “one-and-done” purchase.  Every year there would be a chance for a family to weigh to the costs and benefits of having a gun or guns in their home.

I admit that many demons will gnaw their way forth with details.  But for those who would chafe at a police mandate, I wouldn’t mind if states or localities are granted opt-out power to use the funds that would go for police instead be spent on other gun violence reduction initiatives from buy-back programs to rebates for smart gun purchases to education campaigns for gun safety. And for those who don’t like the fact that their guns are being taxed when they don’t pose a danger, I could see deductions for storing weapons at secure facilities rather than in the home.

Maybe it can work both ways.

I also admit this is NOT the ultimate solution to gun violence in America. But what we have seen with cigarettes is that by taxing them and using that money to help highlight their danger, it has provided a societal counterbalance to the “smoking is cool” notion that prevailed in previous generations.  This in turn has led to progress in curbing smoking despite the fact there are no intentions on making it illegal.

So instead this proposal is a way to reframe the conversation we are having about guns.  There are no convincing statistics that say that an increasingly armed society is increasingly safe.  Indeed, most convincing statistics say just the opposite. But if we put more cops in schools, and redefine responsible gun ownership as not just an individual responsibility, but a societal one that honesty portrays the burdens of these weapons alongside the rights, perhaps we can push past this rhetorical impasse and pull together reasonable people toward common sense solutions.

And that, to me, is the conversation worth having.

Guns in America—An Uncomfortable Proposal

Always comfortable cooking with my wise and beautiful Aunt.

A good three decades ago, my Aunt Libby was having a conversation with her teenage stepson who had anger management issues.  She told him that while he may not feel good being angry, he felt “comfortable” there.  It didn’t help him.  Indeed it hurt him.  But it was the place he felt familiar and safe.  So being angry was his default switch.  Unlike some people, he had to actually work, to move outside a place he felt comfortable, to be happy.

If we as a nation genuinely want progress on gun violence, I believe we have to get uncomfortable, too.  For those of us who are advocates of gun control, it’s very easy to sit down and watch John Stewart make mincemeat out of the rampant hypocrisy of political gun advocates.  It makes us feel right, justified, and like the other side is just a bunch of deluded idiots for opposing some common-sense measures to curb gun violence.  It makes us feel comfortable.

Hilarious, but helpful?

And for reactionaries like Wayne LaPierre (and note I do NOT put most gun owners in this category, but LaPierre is the public voice of the gun lobby pushing on policy), it is comfortable to fall back on the comforts of “an armed society is a polite society” and fire copies of the 2nd Amendment out of AR-15 rifles.  It’s the old, comfy sweater of the gun violence debate.

And, having been in on this debate when it flared in the 1990s, I’m having a hard time seeing how this is going to play out any differently if we all stay in our comfort zones.  For, as I said in my Newtown post, let’s face it, we who dislike guns have neither the right, nor the numbers, to impress our vision of a gun-free America on our nation. But the same holds true for those who believe an armed society is a polite society. But as long as that’s the argument we’re having, all that will happen is nothing. And nothing simply isn’t good enough.

And so, Mr. LaPierre, let’s talk about armed guards in schools.

Not exactly my idea of an inviting learning environment.

Well, I have to admit, I’m not a huge fan of that particular idea.  The notion of hiring some private security to stand guard over the school sounds militaristic.  A school is the microcosm of a community, not a place of business.  Our kids are young people wanting to feel safe, not money in the bank to be shielded by intimidating guys with assault rifles.  But, wait, isn’t there some kind of community service that provides the public protection?  Oh, yeah, right.  The police.

Those police were right out in front of my little guy’s elementary school the Monday after Newtown.  I had told both my fellas about what had happened, so Gunnar understood why the police were there.  How did he feel about it?  He thought they were “cool.”  The officer was giving all the kids high-fives and exchanging pleasant hellos with parents.  It didn’t feel like overkill to me.  It felt like a community coming together to protect its kids.

And my big guy had a similar experience with the police officer that’s assigned to his middle school.  One day in the hall, he and a friend witnessed one of the school bullies attack another student.  The kid pushed the victim against a locker, where he slammed his head and fell, apparently unconscious.  They were both a little scared to tell anyone, but bucked up the courage because there was a person whose sole purpose was to protect the kids, and one who had the legal authority to do it—the school police officer.  According to my son, the officer reacted quickly, apprehending the attacker, assessing the victim, and clearing the hallway.  Frankly, with all of the work that teachers and administrators have to do in order to keep a school running, I find it heartening and helpful that the police have resources like this committed to our kids.

Yeah, a little idyllic, but definitely better than the other guy.

And so, I propose that we mandate that each public school around the country have not one, but two police officers patrolling it at all times there are children present (this includes afterschool activities and if the school is being used for evening youth activities as well).  I say two, not just one, as given we are reacting specifically to the Newtown incident, two officers in separate portions of the school would be far more difficult for an assailant to neutralize quickly than just one might be.

From my experience, a police presence at school is something that can not only benefit the students, but the police as well.  It gives officers more of a visible and positive link with the community.  It reinforces their role as trusted protectors rather than those people who hide in the bushes and give us speeding tickets.  And given there has been historically more police presence in schools in disadvantaged neighborhoods around the nation, universalization could give the practice a little less of a stigma (and a little less fiscal pressure).

“But Scott,” you might be asking, “Even if you’re right and police in schools provide kids with more protection, how in the world is it going to solve the problem of gun violence?  Isn’t this just giving the NRA what they want—more guns?”  That’s a great point, and if the proposal ended there, I’d probably be among the first in line to protest it.  More than that, it seems entirely counter-intuitive, entirely uncomfortable to cede power to the NRA at a time when, at the moment, the forces for gun control appear to be winning the national argument.

Mike Thompson, Detroit Free Press

But in Conflict Partnership terms, sometimes you need to give up power in order to get power in return.  Because whether it is armed guards or more cops in schools, such a proposal comes with a hefty price tag.  And it’s not like building a fence or installing an alarm—this is an ongoing and significant expense.  And so the NRA, normally a “don’t tread on me” kind of gang, is calling for a pretty massive new program that, in some way or form, the government needs to be involved, as it’s providing a public service.  And in a fiscal environment where states and localities are struggling to pay even for current services, asking for such a major new commitment isn’t realistic…unless you find a way to find new money to pay for the responsibilities of our right to bear arms.

And that’s where the conversation may get a little uncomfortable for the NRA.

Next: The payment plan that puts new perspective on guns.

Guns in America—We’re Digging in the Wrong Place

“Asps. Very dangerous. You go first.”

“They’re digging in the wrong place,” Sallah and Indy said, noting that even though the Nazis have all the equipment and manpower they need to find the ark of the covenant, because they don’t know the actual location, they’d never find it no matter how much they dug.

I believe that’s exactly where we now stand with the issue of gun violence in America.

Yes, I know the statistics about guns; homicides, suicides, and accidents involving firearms dwarf incidents of self-defense.  Yes, I am moved by the heroic testimony of Gabby Giffords on Capitol Hill and the touching words of Mark and Jackie Barden, parents of Sandy Hook victim Daniel.  Yes, I am disgusted by the intransigence, bullying, and hypocrisy of Wayne LaPierre.  Indeed, I was a part of this very debate back in the 1990s, working on the international ramifications of America’s lax gun laws.

Yet while I am heartened that we are mining our collective souls once again now that the oft buried costs of an armed society have been so savagely exhumed, I am more convinced than ever that we are digging in the wrong place.

What convinced me of this fact was the irony of back-to-back memes that popped up on my Facebook news feed seemingly arguing with each other despite the fact that these two friends of mine aren’t at all acquainted:

To me, these two pictures paint a clear picture as to the problem—the two sides of the debate are simply, once again, talking past each other.  Indeed, Vice President Biden’s meeting with the gun lobby was by all accounts a perfunctory one at best—an honest drawing of the battle lines now that the front had shifted so suddenly, so tragically, in the direction of gun control advocates.

As one who spent 20 years lobbying and organizing on issues such as this one, I understand the temptation to press an advantage when it arises.  Spikes in gas prices help make the point for better fuel economy.  Attacks on U.S. soldiers by enemies armed with U.S. weapons make the point for a Code of Conduct on international arms sales.  Been there, done that.

But here’s the problem that my two friends’ memes demonstrate so well.  While the majority of Americans are now in favor of sensible gun control laws (including many NRA members) the majority of Americans are also in favor of placing armed security at schools (including many who don’t own guns).  And so the rhetorical and policy battle becomes not a discussion on common ground, but the two sides staking out positions that have public support, but not the support of the other side.  By focusing simply on their perception of what is right, both sides doom us to more division, more failure, and more partisanship.

In Conflict Partnership terms, this is classic “Power Over.”  You find the position of which you are at greatest advantage and attempt to leverage it to the hilt.  In electoral circumstances, I understand the need to focus on that strategy as there really is a winner and loser and the loser goes home.  But when you are trying to make real change, Power Over tends to create at best short-term gains with long-lasting negative ramifications.  Indeed it has been just this “I just need to convince enough people I’m right to shove those I believe wrong out of the way” philosophy that has Congress polling below cockroaches in popularity.

Perhaps gun control advocates are able to push their way into a significant enough majority to finally get some common-sense gun laws on the books, but I’m dubious.  What makes me far more upset, however, is that the fight we are having does nothing to bridge the gap that when you strip away lobbyists and policy makers, may not really be much of a gap at all.  Perhaps it’s really that we’re just having the wrong argument.

From the web shooter of babes

To make a real change, I believe President Obama should look to his past—his nerdy, nerdy past.  As we know, the President’s all-time favorite Super Hero is Spider Man (something we share other than going to Occidental College).  And Peter Parker’s guiding philosophy came to him from his Uncle Ben:

“With great power comes great responsibility.”

There is very little I can think of that this axiom applies to more than guns.  But the conversation we have over and over again is about “rights vs. responsibilities.”  Instead, perhaps what we need is to talk about “rights and responsibilities.”

This, to me is where we could begin our conversation anew, and actually begin it with the topic that got it started in the first place—keeping our children safe.  And it could start exactly where the NRA has its power, on security in schools.  For if the right to bear arms needs to be balanced with the responsibility we have to our children, then, yes, I find myself with the majority that say increased security is a good idea.

I also believe that if we begin digging there, where the NRA put the big, red “X”, we just might be able to begin having a very different conversation about guns in our society.  It’s one that both sides of the debate may be a little more uncomfortable with.  But in this case, uncomfortable is good.  I’ll explain about what I mean in my next post.

New Year and Newtown

Happy New Year everyone.  I know it’s been a while since I’ve posted, but that’s not for lack of writing.  Yes, most of my time has been spent trying to whip my book into enough shape that an agent might be interested, but a lot of it as spent writing endless drafts for a post about Newtown.  I mean, if there ever was an event that a blog like this should weigh in on, it’s this one.

This is actually my fifth attempt, as I often found myself arguing endlessly with…myself.  And I don’t think I’m alone in that.  So even with the operative element of blogging being to be in the moment and to write what you think, I felt a need to hold back until I had something coherent to say.  Here’s my best effort:

He was a stranger, walking into an elementary school. Carrying a large basket covered with a brown cloth so as to hide its contents, he tried the front door to find it locked.  He simply pushed a button, and within seconds a low-pitched droning indicated that the school was open for him, no questions asked.  A teacher even held the door open for him as he entered the principal’s office.

From there, he marched straight into a Kindergarten class, and placed his basket on the floor.  He uncovered its contents, and removed a black mask.   “Is this going to be scary?” a little girl asked innocently.   The man pulled the mask over his face, removed a weapon from his basket, and began…

The stranger?  Me.  The school?  My nephew’s.  The basket?  Filled with props, inclusive of a foam sword and a black Darth Vader mask for my annual rendition of “Chanukkah Wars”—the holiday story told with a Lucasian bent.  All done right around the same time that the unspeakable tragedy in Newtown was happening.

That feeling of walking in some kind of mirror universe side-by-side with a killer is something I simply have not been able to shake.  There I was, standing in front of 30 wide-eyed 5 and 6 year olds, sharing what I believe is all the best that American culture has to offer; the curiosity and openness to learn about the traditions of people who are not exactly like yourself wrapped up in the package of imaginative icons that our pop culture that has made us such a profound influence all over the world.  As the Vader mask-clad evil Lord Antiochus battled the inflatable hammer-armed Judah Maccabee, and unleashed the Death Star of the ancient world, a horde of what turned out to be very ticklish battle elephants, the kids yelled, squealed, laughed, and learned.

At that very same time, kids that same age were yelling and squealing…and dying…as they were confronted by the very worst that American culture has to offer.  A society where it is easier to buy a gun than to receive adequate mental care.  Where guns are not seen as a dangerous tool, but celebrated and enshrined as something sacred.  And the pervasive danger of these guns in our society is so highly politicized that we end up ignoring the problem, much to our peril.

Click to read the USA Today article on the hundreds of children in the Chicago area alone who have been claimed by gun violence over the past few years.

This ghosting in my mind’s eye of my steps with Adam Lanza’s haunts me like a shadow dancing at the corner of my peripheral vision.  And I think that’s where we have tried to keep the dark secret of violence in our society.  It is very easy to keep it there when the violence happens in a steady, unyielding trickle.  A little girl caught in a drive-by shooting (a gun is 22 times more likely to be used in a violent crime than in self-defense).  A tragic accident with a handgun in the house (a gun in the house is responsible for the vast majority of accidental child shootings).  An abused wife meeting a violent end (an abused woman is 6 times more likely to be killed if there is a gun in the home).  It is a deadly blind spot in the American psyche.

Now, you might expect me to go on and jump in with the ocean pressing for new, tough gun control laws.  Instead, I want to tell you that when I first thought about what we could do to keep our children safe from gun violence, my first thought turned to pretty much exactly what Wayne LaPierre, chairman of the National Rifle Association, has now suggested; except my proposal was even stronger than his “armed guard in every school” idea.  I proposed that we have at least two police officers in every public should in the country, as only one makes it too easy for a madman to eliminate the children’s only line of defense.

For those of you who have read some of my posts, this might come as something of a surprise to you.  Indeed, I’ve surprised myself when I’ve found myself on the other side of the debate with many of my friends who immediately took La Pierre to task for blaming everything in society EXCEPT for guns as a cause of this tragedy. But, while I find the sentiments and tone of the NRA and La Pierre’s comments abhorrent, I cannot get over that feeling of disquieting ease that I had as a stranger gaining access with a basket of who-knows-what into my nephew’s school.  This is why as people saw LaPierre’s comments as typical NRA evasion, I saw it as an opportunity.

Here, for the first time since I can remember, the organization that was really the model for Tea Party anti-regulatory reactionary attitudes was actually suggesting a massive increase in government involvement in our society.  Much as Bill Clinton so masterfully took opposing issues and used the as a springboard for his agenda (think Welfare reform), I think those who want to see real change should take LaPierre up on his offer.  Indeed, if you believe in serious gun control, I think you may have to.  For while I am hopeful that Vice President Biden’s task force on gun violence may come up with some great ideas to tackle this issue, I am concerned that in the effort to appeal to “all sides” we end up setting up the same circle of spin we’ve been left with time and time again.  Sometimes, it’s important to know when to give up power in order to get to your goal.

Perhaps in addition to stigmatizing cigarettes as weapons like this ad from The Truth campaign, it’s time to think about guns as cigarettes–a dangerous addiction that we have no intention of making illegal.

I think this could very well be one of those times. In the great “give and take” that, when it functions correctly, makes American society work so well, I think the more police in schools should go right along with the great idea my wife put forth.  To pay for the program, we would institute an annual federal license fee on gun owners. We have tremendous precedent for such a solution.  We tax the hell out of cigarettes and put the money in for healthcare and anti-smoking programs.  If you want the right to smoke, you have the responsibility to pay for the damage smoking does to not only yourself, but to society.  If you want a gun, the same criteria should apply. Seems like a very analogous solution and a step—yes, only a step—in the right direction.

So rather than decry Mr. LaPierre’s idiotic language, I’d love to see Obama call his bluff and propose this as a part of the solution. Because, let’s face it, we who dislike guns have neither the right, nor the numbers, to impress our vision of a gun-free America on our nation. But the same holds true for those who believe an armed society is a polite society. But as long as that’s the argument we’re having, all that will happen is nothing. And nothing simply isn’t good enough.

The Agony and Joy (Hakim) of Teaching Kids History

As my musings on this blog have gone on, I’ve gotten fairly consistent feedback that while my book and movie reviews are somewhat useful, and my tips and occasional missives are okay, what folks like most are my stories.

And that makes sense, right?  I mean, everyone loves a good story.  Something that brings you inside an event.  Makes it meaningful.  Allows you to relate to it on a personal level.

So, on that note, allow me to present to you two versions of the same story.  A true story no less:

The most insightful theory I’ve seen as to how the glaciers parted to make way for homo sapiens in America.

Version 1

Watch that band of people move across the plain.  They look hungry and tired.  The tribe is small, just 20 people in all, and only six are men of hunting age.  But they are brave and their spears are sharp, so they will keep going.  They follow the tracks of a mammoth.

If they can kill the mammoth—a huge, wooly elephant—they will feast for much of the winter.

The trail of the great animal leads them to where no people have gone before.  It leads them onto a wide, grassy earth bridge that stretches between two continents.  They have come from Asia.  When they cross that bridge they will be on land that someday will be called America.  The trail of the mammoth leads them from Asia to a new world.

They don’t realize what a big step they are taking.  They don’t know they are making history.  All they know is that they have lost the mammoth.  He has outsmarted them.  But it doesn’t matter; the new land is rich in animals and fish and berries.  They will stay.

All that happened a long time ago, when families lived in huts and caves and the bow and arrow hadn’t even been invented.  It was a time when ice blankets—called glaciers—covered much of the northern land.  We call it the Ice Age.  Some of the glaciers were more than a mile high.  Nothing man has built has been as tall.

Version 2

The Land-Bridge Theory  Between 10,000 and 100,000 years ago, much of the world was covered by glaciers, or thick sheets of ice.  As more and more of the world’s water froze, the level of the oceans dropped.  Areas that once were covered by water became dry land.  One of these areas stretched between Siberia and Alaska.  It became a bridge of land many miles wide.  The area now lies under a narrow waterway called the Bering Strait.

The land bridge may have appeared and disappeared several times.  However, many scientists believe that people first came to North America between 20,000 and 30,000 years ago.  They were hunters, possibility following the coast of Siberia as they hunted prehistoric mammals such as the woolly mammoth.  Over thousands of years, hunting bands moved over the land.  They eventually spread across North America and South America.

Almost as big and heavy as the monument itself

Pretty much the same information, right?  Right down to highlighting the word “glacier.”  So a question for you.  Which one is a text book, and which one is a story book?  Would you believe that the answer is that they are both text books?  Unfortunately for my son, his text book for his 6th Grade American Studies class is version 2, Pretence Hall’s America: History of Our Nation.

While this may sound familiar from your primary school years slaving through lip-crackingly dry passages as exemplified by #2 above, author Joy Hakim remembered that history is his-story.  She wrote version #1, and what many believe is the best primary-through-middle school textbooks on American history, Oxford’s A History of US.

I was first turned onto Joy Hakim in this interview in Wired Geek Dad (unfortunately the full interview seems to have disappeared from their site).  She is truly understands what our kids, and teachers, are up against:

Well, there was the day a son brought home a new middle school history. I knew that textbooks are rarely page-turners (although they should be), but this book was beyond dull. The writing was barely literate, the page layouts dreary. I was so enraged by it that I actually called his history teacher.

“I hate the book too,” he told me. I shook my head. How could a book so obviously flawed make it into schools? (I would find out.) Anyway, being a journalist, and caring about words and ideas, I decided to see what I could do.

As for storytelling, that’s the classic way civilizations have always passed on their ideas and information. That we have turned away from it in teaching our children has been a tragedy.

With emphasis on “story”

And while I do understand that the primary text book is only one resource a good social studies teacher uses, there is simply no getting around that it is that book that sets the tone with the kids.  That is because the kids are more than smart enough to understand that what is in that primary text book is the content that will be on the holy grail of the year here in Virginia, the lamentable, borderline contemptible state Standards of Learning (SOL) exams.  The “other stuff” may be all well and good, but they know they don’t have to remember it, because, unlike their text book, the supplements don’t have a giant red band with VIRGINIA stamped on top of it. Yet another wonderful way to suck all the joy (pardon the pun) from learning history.

One place where I actually take issue with Hakim’s point is in her notation that “the page layouts so dreary.”  Well, from the first official social studies book Gus got, the error-filled Our Virginia to this one, the layouts are colorful, and vibrant, filled with maps and sidebars.  And I think that’s about the worst idea I can think of.

Yes, when kids are early readers, highly illustrated, colorful books with big pictures and little text are the order of the day.  But these are pre-teens here.  From Harry Potter to the Hunger Games, the books these kids are devouring now have few-to-no pictures.  And yet they love these stories.  Why?  Because they are well written and exciting.  Life and death struggles that they can relate to.

The design of a textbook by its very nature separates it from the books kids love, making it different and alien.  It’s too big, too wide, too heavy.  Cumbersome to get in and out of the backpack.  It reeks of something they have to read.  And I believe that kind of tactile differentiation can have a profound impact in itself.  While Hakim’s series is smaller than the elephantine Prentice Hall tome, it still screams “I’m a school book!”  Even more than adults, that matters to kids.

This icon stew might excite some teachers, but to a kid it just means “here’s more work for ya.”

Once you head inside, the book reads like a bureaucrat with ADD and CD-ROM of clip art put the thing together.  The sidebars are these icon-laden, totally unhelpful notations on exactly where the content connects to the SOLs (yes, this is in the student edition), then adds a notation on what exact learning skill this section teaches.  Incredibly, in the very section I quoted from it actually asks the student to scan all the myriad sidebars before delving into the content as a key learning tool.  This is SO antithetical to the way actual natural reading and learning happens, a student really has no choice but to shut off from the material rather than be turned on by it.  At least with Hakim, the sidebars are interesting, related factoids that add food for thought to the main text rather than burying it in a Technicolor yawn of nonsense.

History is such an amazing tool to show kids that some of the best stories in the world are the ones we have live and are living right now, and that we are the main characters.  From critical and independent thinking, to problem solving, to civic participation, history is a genuine gift that we can pass onto our children.  And while great teachers can overcome bad textbooks, wouldn’t it be better if they were actually aided by great ones?  Especially if those tools are already at our disposal?

If this doesn’t change radically, the history we give to our children is nothing but a tale told an parrot, full of sidebars and icons, signifying nothing.