Should Kids Miss School for Sports?

A few weeks ago, I had to laugh when my daughter made mention of a friend having flown to a cheer competition. Flown? What? ‘Man,’ I thought, ‘glad Vivi isn’t into that crazy cheer stuff!’

Then, last weekend, my son mentioned a team at his soccer club heading to compete in South Carolina – an eight hour (approx.) drive from our home in Florida. I chuckled. ‘Dodged a bullet,’ I thought, suddenly thankful that my son, Lynden, made the second tier team.

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But, then, it was our turn – Lynden’s upcoming tournament requires a Friday morning game an hour away.

Yes, our time has come to live, I now realize, the life of too many young sports families in America that are asked to trade school and time at home for meaningless, not-really-that-serious sporting events.

As you read this, my son will be kicking off his soccer match. He should be in school. You don’t have to be an honor’s student to heed the message being sent by opting out of a day of school for an hour on a soccer pitch.

It’s not Lynden’s fault, though. It’s mine.

It’s the fault of each parent and every team that allows for these trades to be demanded by the organizations hosting these showcases and profiting from our complicit truancy.

To their credit, the organization hosting our tournament recognizes the precarious position that weekday competitions place on the parents and kids participating. They have provided a form letter that attempts to excuse my son’s absence. The memo reads, in part:

“We realize the importance of a player’s education and strive to accommodate the academic calendar as much as possible when planning and scheduling our annual event structure. The (tournament name) is one of the nation’s top college recruiting events that begins on a Friday (2/26) and will require the participating student-athletes to miss that day of school.”

Translation: your 13-year-old will be playing in front of college scouts and one day of missed school is a small price to pay for that potential exposure.

Huh?

I’m not on the high-horse of academic superiority. My kids have skipped plenty of Friday afternoons to miss traffic as we head on a family getaway. I mean, how big of a deal is one day of school? I get it.

There is something bigger I have an issue with. The note provides a perfect explanation of how youth sports’ – all of them – are elbowing their way between our kids and those things that will be far more valuable to their futures.

Cut out the “corporate-speak”, and the letter says:

Yes, come to our tournament, miss school and have your kid (maybe) land on the radar of a college coach that just so happens to be on Field #27 at the time you’re playing. Don’t worry that your 13 year-old doesn’t have one armpit hair to speak of, and the likelihood of that coach having the same job when it’s time for your Little Messi to go to college is minuscule.

Please, by all means, miss school and sacrifice time away from your parents and/or horsing around with your friends at recess, lunch, or walking to and from class. Playing soccer for an hour is far more important than fortifying friendships.

Yes, come to our tournament, have your folks use a P.T.O. day and spend $100 per day in expenses that would not have otherwise existed on a random Friday in March (gas, food, time, and $30 admission). Disclosure: I tried desperately not to mention the admission, but just couldn’t resist (also ridiculous).

After reading through notes like this and looking at our weekend plans, I think of numerous, youth sports induced hardships I read about.

Why are we surprised that the majority of family debts outside of mortgages, cars, and student loans are generated by kid’s activities (mostly travel related)?

Why are we surprised that kids would rather play for their schools (and friends) than these expensive, private, pay-for-play clubs?

Experts in the field have often called the pay-for-play sports model a “race to nowhere”. This references the fact that, while parents chase athletic accolades for their little ones, the reality of achieving a scholarship is far different, far more meager.

Parents (like me) are all outraged – until we find ourselves entering the same race. We do so, saying, “That’s just how it works.” If you’d try to explain such a view of normalcy to anyone not involved, they’d laugh or, at minimum, give you a funny look.

It feels easy to condemn parents at the starting line of this race – “I’m sure glad that’s not me”, or, “I would never drive eight hours and sacrifice a weekend for a lacrosse tournament!”, or, “I’d never pull my kid from school for a soccer game.”

But, then, something happens.

You find yourself, as I have today, stationed in the middle of the peloton of parents racing to nowhere – rubbing shoulders with other broke, tired, separated-from-their-spouse-and-other-children-every-weekend parents.

And, it begins to feel normal.

We get used to being full of regret, perpetually stressed out, in desperate need of some self-care, and racked with familial conflict because we should know better and, still, willingly signed up.

The race to nowhere, by definition, cannot end.

In fact, for me, I feel like it will get longer as my other household athletes age – my 8-year-old is a baller (lol). And, while the race will not stop, there must be turn-offs and aid stations that provide a respite – like school or eating a family dinner.

I’ll harbor that hope for another day. For now, I have to excuse Lynden’s absence.

So, while your son or daughter sinks into their Algebra textbook today, mine will be scoring goals (I hope). He’ll be doing so with my half-hearted blessing.

I keeping affirming to him that this is okay.

That is, very simply, just plain wrong.