Cobb County School leaders: Let Chris walk

The Cobb County School Board has decided that our friend, Allatoona High School senior Chris Alderidge, who sustained two strokes at the age of 4, and had a brain tumor removed four years later, and has an Individualized Educational Plan because of a learning disability, should not be allowed to walk with his graduating class because he failed the science portion of the graduation test.

Chris has earned the necessary credits to graduate. He took, and passed all the courses that the state of Georgia requires to graduate. And he understands that to truly earn the diploma, he has to take science exam again over the summer to improve his science score by five points, and plans to do just that. I won’t editorialize on that.

Neither the state of Georgia (which by the way has no problem with allowing students such as Chris to walk with his graduating class) nor Cobb County is governed by the phrase, “What Would Jesus Do?”

What’s interesting though, on this Election Day, is that just about every candidate would claim that they follow What Would Jesus Do creed, either because they say they are believers, or at least think it is a kind, caring, smart way to treat others.

So what would Jesus do?

I can’t say with certainty. Here’s what I do know. He wouldn’t worry about things like a “slippery slope.” He wouldn’t worry about breaking a rule or shaking up the status quo to show mercy and grace.

Ceremonies, by and large, mean nothing to me. But they mean something to Chris and his parents.

Will the hundreds of other graduates (or more likely parents) really feel cheated if Chris gets to walk with his class?  I guess some might.  I’d tell those people to get over yourself and enjoy your day and don’t worry that Chris and his family get to enjoy it to.

Chris was told about 10 days ago that he wouldn't be able to walk with his class. Chris was told, in school. His mom wasn't called. Chris, the hardworking student with a big smile who had overcome every other obstacle in his educational life, was told. Well done, guys.

 

Chris should walk Friday with his class. Every administrator and counselor who thought otherwise should also personally apologize to Chris and his family. 

I have a word for those who hurt they heart of the children, or teens, just because they can: Bullies.

Here's to the C Students...

It's graduation time all over the country, and because most won't say it, I will: Here’s to all the C students!

To the ones who tried their best and still got Cs, to the ones who know they could have tried harder, and got Cs.

What’s there to say about those who could have done more homework but didn’t, who could have studied an extra couple of hours a week, but for whatever reason, chose not to?

These are the kids, and the parents, we refuse to celebrate or honor. Instead, we label them as lazy – both the kid and the parents. 

Evidence seems to be on society’s side on this too. How else do you explain how a smart child, from a stable home, would put forth so little (outward) effort in making good grades? Or how would a parent allow their child to waste their evenings on Facebook or playing videos instead of preparing for that test?

How can we possibly catch up with China if we allow this to go on.

We can’t figure out how this could happen – from the student or the parent – except to call it pure laziness.

Hmmm. Now who’s being lazy?

To not be able to find a better explanation, and thus settle for the easy explanation of laziness, requires no imagination, no inquisitive thought, no introspective examination. Still, we go with that.

That deserves an F.

Because what else might be true about this child?

In fact, what might be the truest thing of all about him or her?

What if her heart hurt so badly, so often, that she escaped into a cocoon of safety every afternoon that didn’t include a math book? Blessed are they that mourn, for they shall be comforted.

What if his private world looked nothing like the public one? Or what if -- even only in his adolescent head -- the world just looked too weird and troublesome to understand? Blessed are the poor in spirit, for they shall inherit the kingdom.

What if there is a war raging at home? Or even if the war was just inside the kid’s mind and emotions? Blessed are the peacemakers, for they shall be called the children of God.

What if they are eaten up with insecurities and are not assertive or bold enough to stand up for himself, and campaign for a better grade? Blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the earth.

What if their best friend is hurting and they pay too much attention to that and not enough attention to physics? Blessed are the merciful, for they shall obtain mercy.

What about the kids who have no excuses, live in a good little world, and their only hope lies in the mercy and goodness and grace of God? Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God.

To all the teachers out there who see these kids and offer a merciful heart (not an "A") you too shall obtain mercy. And for showing it to a kid, probably an extra helping of it.

Those teachers who didn’t, well, you guys can do the math, right?

Truth is, sometimes the answer is as simple as laziness. I don't think it's usually that clear cut though.

Regardless, this is what I know to be true of every C student in the world:

-- They are loved by the Lover of our Souls as much as any A student.

  

--They are often uniquely able to see the hurt in others rather than the shortcomings.

--They are positioned to be keenly aware that God’s love for them is not based on their performance. They will need to be guided in this, but they are likely to cling to this truth quicker than those who are convinced they can perform their way into acceptance.

-- They will not be recognized for any of these things, at least not on a stage, or on a bumper sticker, or on Facebook, by their mom who is “blessed” because Susie once again made honor roll.

So here’s to all those kids who have so much good in them, so much hurt around them or so much confusion in their world. 

Because good or bad grades? They are both temporary. 

What is not temporary: The infinite value of knowing Christ Jesus. Compared to that, it’s all rubbish. 

(reprinted from a blog I wrote two years ago)

Springsteen Coming to Atlanta...My (current) top 10

Any true Springsteen fan knows that whenever he or she comes up with a top 10 list, a couple of things are certain. First, it won't be the same as it was six months ago, or maybe even six days ago. It has everything to do with the mood you are in when compiling the list.

Secondly, you'll tend to agree with about 75 percent of those who call you an idiot for leaving off their favorite song. I've compiled this list probably a dozen times. This time, I'm not looking at I-Tunes or album catalogs to remind me of ones that I might miss. I'm just going to spit out 10, with a sentence of why I chose it. In no certain order, today's top 10 is:

-- Trapped: Almost always makes my list, regardless of mood.
-- No Surrender: The live version from the '75-'85 is preferred. I've loved it too long and too consistently for it not to be on the list.
-- The Ghost of Tom Joad: With Morello. My friend Clay gives me a hard time for seeing Bruce with him during the Ghost of Tom Joad tour, in an intimate setting, and being utterly unimpressed. He's right to give me a hard time. But I do like the rocker version better.
-- Land of Hope and Dreams: Beautiful, powerful and hopeful.
-- Lost in the Flood: Live version. I've heard it live once or twice. Memorable.
-- One Step Up: One of five amazing songs on Tunnel of Love. Who'd have thunk it at the time?
-- Badlands: Too fun to sing along with to not have on the list.
-- Tenth Avenue Freeze Out: See above.
-- Bobby Jean: Never made a top 10 list for me. But it stirs something in me every time.
-- Born to Run: Tried really hard to leave it off, but seeing it live time after time makes it a must.

And there you go. For me to list the obvious omissions would be cheap. I left them off because of right now, this minute, they aren't my favorites (even though three of them would be on my all-time top 10 list.)

What say you?

Heavenly Audience for John Lynch, Shelley Hendrix and Craig Bowler...And me and you

Bob Goff, author of Love Does, posted Saturday, "Everything seemed lost, but the angels were leaning over the rails - because they knew what would happen next..."

I love that image, and I believe it happens, maybe not to that extent, all the time, and we are the ones being watched, celebrated and playfully loved. I suppose the angels do this, but I believe for certain Jesus does, and probably gathers others -- angels, saints, earthly relatives -- and says, "Guys, get over here and watch this! Craig Bowler is about to outdo himself this Sunday." Or "Shelley Hendrix is about to extend grace in an all new way."  Or perhaps, "Hey our guy John Lynch, yeah, the one we love so much in Phoenix and whose body is failing him lately, he's about to say the funniest thing he's ever said. And that's saying something!"

And we are enjoyed.

We have a heavenly audience celebrating us at our best.

And even better: When we are at our worst, no one on that side of eternity is watching, because there is no condemnation on that side. Not from our relatives who preceded us. Not by the saints. And certainly not by Jesus, who took the condemnation to the cross on a Friday, and arose on Sunday, clean from all our junk.

Thank you Jesus.

That Awkward Father-Son Masters Moment

I was ticked off when Kevin Stadler walked off the 18th hole of Augusta National on Sunday, and instead of embracing his father, golfer Craig Stadler, who was waiting just off the green, he sailed right past him, seemingly too upset that he'd bogeyed the 18th hole of the Masters.

Had Kevin parred it, he'd have finished in a tie for seventh. Instead, he finished in a tie for eighth. Big deal, right? To my judgmental eye, Kevin had blown it, in front of CBS' national audience. CBS obviously had expected something of a special father/son moment as its cameras followed Kevin and caught the awkward, wince-inducing blow-off of his dad, who had finished his round earlier. It was the first time a father and son had played the Masters in the same year.

But when given the benefit of a little time, I'm usually far less judgmental than what my initial instinct might be.

Almost every time, I'm brought back to this point:  How would I like it if my worst moment of the year, the month or even the week was caught on camera for others to see?

I'd be embarrassed; that's how I'd feel. Every single week, I'd be devastated if me at my worst was suddenly broadcast to a large, unforgiving, judgmental audience.

I don't know Kevin Stadler. I'd never heard of him before Sunday. I have met Craig Stadler a few times during the early '90s when I covered the Masters for a few years. I remember the elder Stadler to be generous and kind. I imagine the apple didn't fall too far from the tree, but again, I don't know.

I do know that I won't look back at Kevin Stadler's 10 seconds of post-Masters fame with disgust anymore. Instead, I'll choose to offer grace. I know I'll be needing some in return any minute now.