This article highlights a small
issue that is emblematic of the general state of Baltimore public schools.
When hundreds of Maryland students came to Baltimore to compete in
regional track championships, the only facility available was the Fifth
Regiment Armory. The drill hall in this building was intended for
military exercises, not sprinters. Every runner who was quoted in the
article expressed great dissatisfaction with the facilities, citing some of
their personal worst times on the aged, slippery floor of the armory. The
improvised track pales in comparison to elite facilities like the Prince
George’s Sports & Learning Complex, one of the other facilities in the
championship hosting rotation.
I would never argue that athletic
facilities ought to be a higher priority for a school district (or a city) than
education. But there is no question that good athletic teams, and good
athletic facilities to support them, engender a sense of pride in our schools
that few things can. Our students are not proud of their schools, and our
decrepit facilities certainly contribute to this. Though we need to stay
focused on maintaining an excellent learning environment for our students,
articles like this one point out that the failing physical state of our schools
gets noticed by people other than our students. If we want to B-More, we
need to work to change this.
1 comment:
Summer, thanks for an interesting blog post. Many of my students run on Digital’s track team, and because the school does not have its own track, the team practices throughout the year in our cramped, dark hallways – hardly fertile soil for the cultivation of a track team.
I especially liked your stating that you “would never argue that athletic facilities ought to be a higher priority for a school district (or a city) than education.” I wholeheartedly agree with this assertion. Contrastingly, I concur that “there is no question that good athletic teams, and good athletic facilities to support them, engender a sense of pride in our schools that few things can.” As a teacher who loves sports and as a sports fan who happens to teach, I am torn.
Allow me to play devil’s advocate to your point that Baltimore City needs to improve its athletic facilities. Suppose the district invests money in improving the quality of its fields, gymnasiums, and equipment, only to see academic results like test scores remain level or worsen. Predictably, the cry from outside the educational world will be that Baltimore should have spent its money more wisely. I am less concerned with this reaction to this hypothetical situation than I am with the reaction from our students to it. Like me, many of my kids are avid sports fans; they can rattle off how many points LeBron James scored or how many touchdowns Joe Flacco threw this year. When I first entered the classroom, I tried to use inspirational stories from sports to motivate my students to be their best; quotations from Michael Jordan decorated my classroom. Now, four semesters later, I am beginning to rethink the effectiveness of the sports-as-life metaphor. After listening to countless students tell me that they are going to play professional football or basketball despite having grades that would not get them past the NCAA’s Clearinghouse, I have grown increasingly frustrated. Can it be that progressive, well-intentioned teachers, hoping to inspire and motivate their students to work hard by using sports analogies to which students can easily relate, have contributed to the belief of many inner-city students that the only way for them to be successful is to become a professional athlete? Especially given the solid statistics that the overwhelming percentage of high school athletes do not go pro, have we reinforced the very myth that we are trying to destroy?
High school sports are supposed to be means to greater ends: teamwork, a college scholarship and degree, a career, and even school pride, as you rightly observe. Yes, our students do need improved athletic facilities, just as they need renovated school facilities. But if sports get reduced to ends in and of themselves, then we better think hard about improving the intended and unintended messages that we send our kids. When done right, sports become vehicles by which educators can teach kids. Nonetheless, even the greatest athletes lose their skills in time, and they face years of having to support themselves and their families without the aid of a killer jump shot or a Hall of Fame arm, which is, of course, where education becomes all the more important.
Let’s make sure we don’t confuse the vehicles for the destination. The vehicle helps us get there, but it isn’t the "there" that most of us will ever get to, and it isn’t the "there" that we should shoot for.
Good stuff!
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