Safe at home - finding value in small towns

The oldest team sport in our country and perhaps the most American of any sport is that of baseball.

The American language is peppered with slang, terms and word usage with origins traceable to the game originally referred to as rounders.

Whether someone is into sports or not, nearly everyone knows what a “home plate” is. Home plate is where progress, or scoring, is made. Teams batting will take turns with each player hoping for the chance to be able leave home and get on base, but hoping even more to be able to make it back to home.

As many a broadcaster has excitedly shouted, “He’s rounding third, sprinting for home. The long throw - the slide - and he’s safe!” while the crowd cheers on the event. The arriving at home of the player before the ball could catch up to him had rendered him safe and all that he has done will now count for something.

Those two words, safe and home, are arguably two of the most considered and aspired for concepts when people plan out their lives or consider their e◊orts when building a life for themselves and their family.For my part, as I have entered my 60s, I often think about the safety and future of my own family, especially the prospects for my nine grandchildren.

As an avid reader of newspapers, and watcher of news programs, it seems that too much of the news and events of the day are centered around the chaos and violence dotting the American landscape. In the past few days I’ve read of marauding youths attacking innocent bystanders, cities going bankrupt, declining religious a◊liation, shootings, kidnappings, and how American schools are spending more and more and accomplishing less and less.

Remembering my own childhood in the ’50s and ’60s, it seemed that things were a lot calmer in those days. We lived on a busy street in Monett, Mo., but we rarely locked our doors or worried about things like robbery, kidnapping or violence. The street gangs I associated with involved bicycles, squirt guns and theoccasional water balloon.

After reading the lurid headlines and watching some of the depressing news programs, I can’t help but feel blessed that I grew up in a small town that everyone could call home, and I am even more appreciative today of being able to live and work in a small town such as this little corner of northwest Arkansas.

That there are bad things happening around our nation is true enough, but with the good things that are so commonplace in many small towns such as Pea Ridge, the future of our republic still has a chance to be a bright one.

Mark Twain once remarked that there are “lies, then d* lies, and then there are statistics.” Doing some research over several days, I read many “stats” explaining why the crime rate was the way it was.

While some were more convincing than others, I think the reports together would bear out a fact that most of us would a◊rm.

Crime in small towns occurs much less often than in larger cities, both in sheer numbers as well as per capita. Some even rate the rural or small town crime rate at 80 percent less thanin metropolitan areas.

As far as I was concerned, being home meant being safe. Home with a family that loved and appreciated me, in a community that fostered pride and cooperation, attending a school where any student who wanted to be a part of something had the chance to participate.

Kids growing up in large cities often live with a constant fear of impending danger. Conversely, kids in the smaller settings don’t have that and having less stress helps lead to a brighter outlook on what they hope to do or accomplish. It is no coincidence that most corporate CEOs went to small schools while most of the prison population in America’s lock-ups are products of large school environments. The worst and most underachieving schools in the nation reside in the largest cities.

Large schools are really more about exclusion than about inclusion. Schools the size of Pea Ridge can and do have up to 50 percent of their students involved in some activity beyond the academic while urban schools can’t come even close to that kind of percentage. For example, ahigh school football team usually carries no more than 90 players. Anyone wanting to play at a small school will get the chance, but if you attend a high school with 3,000 students, most will not get that chance. As a result, many big school students never develop a pride or love for their school or their community. Citizens without these traits have a great deal to do with what many call a crisis of apathy.

Anonymity is the curse of bigness. Anonymity for youths looking for support and acceptance often leads them into associations with undesirable groups with criminal proclivities, when that may be the only avenue they see open to them.

Small communities need everyone to contribute, so anonymity is a rare commodity.

In towns such as our own, any school age child who wants to play a team sport has nearly unlimited opportunity. They will get to play and work with classmates they already know and they will likely get community support and encouragement unheard of in cities where kids play on YMCA or Boys Club teams.

Not to denigrate the fi nework the YMCS and Boys Club do, developing community pride and loyalty in youth sports is hard to do when a player’s team is radically di◊erent from season to season.

Whether folks admit it or not, the great majority of people do want to matter.

They want to be in a place they can take pride in and in a place where they can feel safe. If America is to survive the challenges that threaten this country, the solutions will come from people who have developed a pride in themselves, their peers and their communities. They will have the moorings of a people who can call somewhere home, can relate to others what being and feeling safe are, and have the education and experience to make a difference.

Wouldn’t it be great for all Americans that all could someday be “safe at home”?◊◊◊

Editor’s note: John McGee is an award-winning columnist and sports writer. He is the art teacher at Pea Ridge elementary schools, coaches elementary track and writes a regular sports column for The Times. He can be contacted through The Times at [email protected].