I have played soccer for thirty-three
years. During this time, several old timers like myself have tried to encourage
a non-competitive game by asking
players who must keep score to keep
it to themselves and to make the game
as fun as possible with no overeager
competitiveness. We encourage new
players to pass the ball rather than try to
dribble around opponents, which often
ends up with their being dispossessed of
the ball, to the frustration of the rest of
the team. We also try to avoid blasting
the ball at the goalkeepers and instead
use skill to get the ball into the small
goals that we have. These may seem like
minor points, even trivial, but let us take
a closer look. The culture here in the US
with its motif of ‘the American dream’
emphasizes the individual. Nowhere
is this more evident than in sports
where individuals, not teams, are given
huge incentives. It follows the model
of corporate America where the CEOs
are rewarded with huge salaries and
bonuses if the firm is succeeding, and
even if not.
I love playing soccer, especially
when there is a working together as a
team and when just, sometimes, there is
a sense of what is called ‘being in the
zone’, where there is a movement—
maybe a series of passes—that has a flow
or beauty that makes the rest of the
game worthwhile. The end result of the
movement may or may not result in a
goal being scored. For me, the feeling of
life moving through me and giving
myself up to it is enough to keep this
tired old frame returning twice a week.
It reminds us, in a satisfying way, that
we are all connected and, if we can work
as a team, learning is that much more
effective. For clarity here I must emphasize
that it is not ‘me’ that is learning, since,
at the most receptive times, ‘I’ is not
present; being in the zone is actually ‘not
being’, and therefore not getting in the
way of the movement of life’s energy.
Insight comes through the absence, not
the presence, of ‘me’. Sadly, I see mostly
the influence of the ‘me culture’ where it
is so hard for players to pass the ball,
especially the younger ones and those who have learned dribbling skills, often
at the expense of their passing skills.
Giving the ball to another player is
very difficult if you think that you are
losing something you have, and are
also losing the future possibility for the
ultimate prize and status of scoring. You
may have more confidence in yourself
than in the other players, and do not
want to risk losing the ball by passing,
and this will be your rationale. Such
persons—often with natural talent—
can ruin the fun if they are not team
players and don’t want to include others
whom they see as below them. This can
also create an atmosphere of fear, with
the less gifted making even more errors
due to the subtle and not so subtle
pressure, like comments about whom
not to pass to. Anyone who has taught
soccer will know the phenomenon
where the ‘good’ players will pass more
frequently to the other ‘good’ players,
ensuring that the weaker players will
learn slower or not at all, due to lack
of experience. Trying to change this
culture is a formidable task indeed. We
can try to mitigate the non-inclusion by
offering, for example, games where a
certain number of players in the team
have to touch the ball before a goal
can be made, even though this will be
frustrating for the more skilled players.
Hopefully, we can talk about that at the
end of the period. However, this will
not reverse the much deeper on-going
conditioning permeating the ‘me’ culture.
In the classroom this would be akin
to a teacher calling upon all the students
to either read or to respond to questions,
regardless of their academic levels. It is
frustrating to hear weak readers, or
those who stumble over their words, if
you have the idea that there is an object
to the lesson and that you are somehow
losing out if you allow for ‘weakness’.
This is just like the frustration in a game
when a player makes lots of mistakes,
when your goal is to win the game.
Having myself been taught in the
traditional mode, it is hard for me too,
at times, to pass to a player who is not
as skilled as some others. However,
something in me is also cognizant of
the fact that this player has worked hard
to create the space that allows her
to receive the ball, and I notice that
I respect that by passing. Year after year
I also notice that the ‘most improved
player’ will not be one of the so-called
‘good’ players but rather one who has
struggled to improve despite limitations.
I feel some satisfaction in having
possibly helped that growth by my extra
attention and encouragement to him or
her. I find it curious that one or two of
the more competitive older players
will rarely pass to players perceived as
weaker, and year after year they play the
same game even though they constantly
make mistakes themselves. Since these
are adults, they often take umbrage at
actual conversations about how to improve
the game by including everyone and working as a team. Though my
weekly refrain of “pass the ball for god’s
sake!” seems to go unheard, it also seems
that I can only be the change that I want
to see, for no other reason than it feels
right. I could go on about the inner
game of soccer, but let us just take this
analogy and see how it might apply
more generally in our lives.
You probably do not play soccer;
however, the psychology as seen on
the soccer field will most certainly be
affecting your life, no matter what field
you are in. Even in the protected ‘ivory
towers’ of our schools, it may be no
different from elsewhere. We are not
so far from the madding crowd as
we might think. The point is, can we
approach our educational experiment as
a team, each one equally responsible
(taking now a boating metaphor) not
only for rowing but also, far more
importantly, for setting the course and
navigating? Some questions that we
could be asking ourselves are these: Are
we gradually being sucked into the
mainstream? Are we out to win the
game, and what cost are we willing
to pay for that? Is the game less fun?
Will we appoint team leaders for their
perceived successes? Do players have
to constantly ‘perform’? Will learning
suffer in an atmosphere of fear where
the playing field is not level?
Can we have ‘state of the union’
meetings regularly with all the players involved, to ensure that all voices are
heard and everyone gets to have the
ball—or talking stick—occasionally, so
that they feel part of the team and see
that their contribution matters? It is easy
to talk about classroom management or
teaching techniques, but teachers also
unwittingly teach much more by their
actions. It is therefore incumbent upon
them to discuss and address all things
that affect them and the classrooms,
whether these be uncomfortable or not.
Do teachers feel free enough to express
both what they would love to teach and
what they might like to change, without
thinking that they may be told they
cannot play the game anymore?
There are a few young players who
have played with us for years and who
exhibit generous, gentle, skilled, intelligent
behaviour on the field. Of course,
it really has nothing to do with them;
life lives through them in this way and
has shown them that in the long run if
we share, we win—not this particular
game maybe, but the larger game of life.
It is just wisdom. I am really addressing
the human condition here, which is a
reflection of the mistaken idea that we
are all separate and need to fight others
to survive. We can only hope that the
younger players can display the wisdom
to influence the rest of us so that there
is more connection and, of course, more
fun for all in the game.