I‘d like to share highlights of my recent meeting with
Adrian Crawford, author of “Get To Know Coaches Before Criticizing” (Dec. 8), written
in response to my article “Coaches Should Be Held To The Same Standard as
Teachers” (Nov. 30).
Once we had a chance to discuss our vantage points—Adrian
from a coaching household, an All-American who played basketball at Tulsa, Florida
State, and later as a professional in Spain, now a local minister and coach—and
mine, a professionally-trained musician with an international teaching,
performing, recording, and service career, working in one of the largest and most
respected music programs in the country—we found a great deal of overlap in our
Venn diagrams. Here are some examples.
Professional musicians and athletes share a great number of
experiences, including having more candidates than there are professional
positions, extremely high levels of competition, performance anxiety and
stress, dealing with criticism, teamwork, and exceptionally high levels of
specialized training reserved only for those talented and driven enough to
“make it.” Most musicians who grew up
playing sports (like I did) already know about this, but I think it safe to say
that many athletes are unaware. Adrian was
genuinely surprised when I told him how professional orchestra auditions work,
and yes, there are obvious factors outside the overlap—I’m not attempting to
perform with a 300-pound lineman trying to level me with millions of people
watching, just as a basketball player doesn’t have only one chance to sink a
shot from mid-court or be sent home. But
the majority of the basic experiences are shared.
Many place a premium on the academic reputation and
operation of the Academy, quoting the alarming inequity of salaries and lack of
behavioral standards as a symptom of large-scale identity problems (see The Athletic Trap: How College Sports
Corrupted the Academy, Howard L. Nixon II, Baltimore: Johns Hopkins
University Press, 2014). However some
may not be aware of the comprehensive mission to train student-athletes to be
successful outside of sports. As Adrian noted, no one sees the support the
coaches give their student-athletes off the field—just as no one sees the
support of our young musicians off the stage.
As spectators we might only get those few seconds of outburst to make a
generalization. And that brings up an
important point about how coaches are trained.
According to B. David Ridpath’s “College Coaches Behaving
Badly: Time to Enforce Some Common-Sense Standards” in Forbes, one major factor separating the Academy from athletics is
that coaches receive no formal certification.
Where academics typically have increasingly streamlined paths through
degrees, certifications, and professional experience, coaches follow more of an
apprenticeship trajectory—they play for a coach as a student-athlete, teach as
graduate assistant/trainer, become assistant coaches under a head coach, and
finally a head coach. In most cases, they
simply coach the only way they know how—as their forbears did it, and for some
that can include use of obscenities.
Adrian and I agree that you can have intensity without cursing, and I
suggest once you start down the obscenity path it’s a slippery slope to other
unacceptable coaching behaviors. While
admitting no one is perfect, I believe some certification or system to monitor
coaching behavior should probably be in place if Athletic Departments continue
to function within the Academy.
Here’s an interesting fact concerning those obscenity-laced
rants as culture. I learned recently
from an Air Force veteran and master musician that Military Training
Instructors (MTI, aka Drill Instructors) have been moving away from
obscenity-fueled training over the last seven years. In 2009 the Air Force
started a new program called “Military Training Instructor Deliberate
Development,” where mentorship and valuing trainees as individuals with
intrinsic worth became the instruction standard. Instructors became capable of intensity
without profanity, without threats of physical abuse, and without personal
verbal maltreatment.
If an entire wing of the military can implement a new way to
train soldiers more efficiently, free of obscenities, physical abuse, and other
trademark “Bad Coaching Behaviors,” then perhaps there’s hope for everything
else.
I know that over my 20+ years as a Professor, now spanning
three successful programs, I have not been perfect for every single minute. There are fortunately many more moments where
I know a huge difference has been made in the life of young people than
not. However, if I were under the insane
amount of scrutiny some coaches deal with—and had a bad day—and had it captured
on national TV and social media in front of millions of people—I would not want
people to extrapolate and somehow come to the conclusion that those seconds of
camera time defined me as a musician, teacher, or person. I believe this was the main point of Adrian’s
article, and I agree with him.
One thing I have learned above all others in my career is
that you must give respect in order to get it.
Respect your students, your staff, your workers, and most importantly
those who may not see things as you do—and let them know that you love them and
appreciate them—and anything is possible.
It’s not about manipulation, it’s about modeling best practices for your
students.
Therefore I remain convinced that obscenity-laced rants are
disrespectful, unsuitable and unsustainable as teaching tools. If they weren’t we would have tons of pedagogical
research lauding this approach as a viable way to motivate and instruct across
all levels. One of my esteemed
colleagues called this behavior a kind of willful laziness, substituting
obscenities and personal insults for real information, and it happens systematically
at every level—college, high school, even junior high. One argument regards colorful language as the
only way to get the attention of a student-athlete who knows no other method of
communication, which likely is not the fault of the current coach. However the
chance to elevate the discourse and prepare student-athletes for life after
University—from that point onward—rests squarely with that coach.
If it were up to me, there would be fines for every instance
of these tirades—on TV, heard by children behind the bench, or caught by
media. I imagine that coaches would act
a lot better after paying $10,000 for every obscenity caught by the press. By the way, that 10k is 0.2% of a 5-million
dollar salary, and just for the sake of comparison that percentage would come
to a $160 fine for me. And my opinion
has nothing to do with anyone’s ability to take intense criticism or
instruction, weakness, or being called a “liberal snowflake”—it’s about
class. Words like tradition, pride, and
excellence are rooted in class.
Will some coaches stop throwing their headsets, clipboards,
screaming obscenities, shoving student-athletes, and acting like children as a
result of this ongoing discussion?
Probably not. However, will the
continuing collaboration between Adrian and I make a difference? Could it
provide a model for people to celebrate evolved discourse between two seemingly
disparate people or points of view? That is our hope.
My program within the College of Music, as well as our
Athletic Department, Adrian’s basketball academy, and every other cognate of
Florida State University has a common mission.
We are to cultivate, train and support our students to be successful
after graduation, period. Does every gifted
student-athlete have the chops to excel academically? No. Do
people think student-athletes enjoy a status that protects them from the full
rigor of academics shared by the rest of the student body? Yes, many of them do. And do people largely misunderstand what student-athletes
do? Yes—and it goes both ways. But
here’s the thing—the coaches are doing the same thing I am—they’re trying to
prepare their students for life after FSU.
And while I still cringe when I see coaches around the country using pedagogical
approaches that are morally and ethically questionable—and I’m not alone there—I
think I’d rather start the discussion with what we have in common, just as
Adrian and I are doing. And after
becoming more familiar with what we do on our side of campus, coaches might
have some suggestions for me, just as I have for them.
I’m looking forward to learning more about how our athletes
are coached, and as I hoped, Adrian is excited about coming to watch our
percussion ensemble (which has won our version of a National Championship,
twice). That will be fun for sure, as
Adrian is a first-class guy, and I feel lucky to know him.
The good news: There
are more people out there like us who are interested in continuing this
conversation and making a difference, and I hope that what we’re doing will
inspire people with divergent beliefs or practices to sit down and discuss their
positions with respect and understanding.
You might be surprised just how much you have
in common.
