Northern Michigan University is located in a remote afterthought of the United
States few people know exists, called the Upper Peninsula. It’s separated from
the lower half of Michigan by a 10-mile aqua-hiccup in the continent at the
confluence of Lakes Huron and Michigan. Miles of water must be crossed to reach
the Upper Peninsula, populated by “Upees” – forgotten Swedes, Danes, and the
lost, hardy Eskimo. Winter comes early to the UP. First snow flies in October.
It’s still on the ground in May. If you enjoy snow from the North Pole lashing
your face, it’s swell. Otherwise, the month of summer is beautiful.
New Trier, my high school located in a comfy northern suburb of Chicago,
boasts an impressive percentage of college-bound students. They have a trick.
It goes like this. You see your college counselor and he asks you if you’ve
thought about where you want to go to college. “Well,” I say (I’d been thinking
about this a lot), “I want to go to Harvard, Brown, or UCLA.” Good schools all,
agrees the smarmy counselor. “But, just for the hell of it, let’s add Northern
Michigan. You know,” he whispers conspiratorially. “In case Harvard doesn’t
work out.” Thus it was I, along with other dumbshits, miscreants, and assorted
New Trier losers, come September, who landed in the frozen arctic tundra of
Marquette, Michigan.
The layout of the NMU campus did not lend itself to attending class. The
freshman dorms were located about three-quarters of a mile downhill from the
classrooms. Once the gales of November began to howl off of Lake Superior, only
the most conscientious students made the life-threatening trek up Wipe-Out
Hill, aptly named for the many grisly accidents which occurred as motor
vehicles careened wildly down the sheer ice road, scattering bookish scholars
like so many frozen penguins.
I know this to be true because on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, I, whenever
physically possible, made the chancy hike up Wipe-Out Hill to my Constitutional
Law class, taught by Dr. John Smith. Dr. Smith was one of those rare profs who,
too many years later, we still remember. He insisted lazy freshmen consult an
obscure reference tomb called the Oxford English Dictionary. “Get thee,”
he’d exhort, “to the OED.” He also warned impressionable young folk
about the dangers of political labels. Liberal, Conservative, Republican,
Democratic are feel-good words, he intoned, denoting nothing but wispy vapors.
I found myself reflecting on Dr. Smith last week when reading the Supreme
Court’s decision concerning drug testing of high-school athletes.
Conservative doctrine is supposed to hold to the notion that less government
in our lives is better. Yet a conservative court has held (6-3) that student
athletes – because the sports they play are “not for the bashful” and because a
high school athlete, “[b]y choosing to go out for the team [and] voluntarily
subject themselves to a degree of regulation even higher than that imposed on
students generally…” – must submit to state sponsored drug-testing. With no
cause for suspicion whatever, our children are being stripped of their Fourth
and 14th Amendment protections (unreasonable search and seizure) because
“Minors lack some of the most fundamental rights of self-determination.”
This is a stunning decision. Yet the only criticism – and there hasn’t been
much – I’ve seen is that it’s unfair to single out student jocks for this
unfair treatment. Drug test everyone, the critics say. Way wrong!! It’s unjust
and un-American to force anyone to be drug-tested simply because they’re
underage. I’m not too crazy about drug testing in the marketplace, but at least
an adult has a choice. You don’t have to work there. A student athlete, if he
wants to play, has no such choice. What political parties really mean when they
say they don’t want government interference in their lives is they want
very much for the government to interfere, as long as it validates their
agenda: abortion, school prayer, drug testing, whatever.
I went to an end-of-year assembly this spring at my 12-year-old daughter’s
suburban school. It began with a half-hour, anti-drug, DARE yell-fest. This
anti-drug shebang was equal parts est and Hitler youth, as the blond-haired,
blue-eyed kids shouted, on cue, anti-drug slogans and sang anti-drug songs. I
believe this anti-drug thing has crossed over a dangerous line.
There’s a vague line between education and indoctrination. Any parent with
kids who can speak has been told by our stern offspring we shouldn’t smoke,
drink, take aspirin, or quaff Coca-Cola. This is the outcome of the well
intentioned DARE program. If the State asked our kids to report us, you can be
sure many would.
Daryl Strawberry, Steve Howe, and Roy Tarpley are a few of the name athletes
caught or held prisoner by drug-testing policies. Wrong as it is, this has been
accepted by our society because they’re high-profile figures who make lots of
money. High-school swimmers, left-fielders, and cross-country runners are just
kids. It’s only a tiny step to testing all the kids, the rationale being “What
the hell, we have all the equipment. Why not?” Is this what our country is
about? n
This article appears in July 7 • 1995 and July 7 • 1995 (Cover).