Setting a Precedent for Change

I was thinking about the demise of discrimination, when I heard the Don't Ask, Don't Tell law had been repealed.  Whether you agree with the decision or not, there can be no argument that proponents of the plan to end the law fervently believe they've struck a blow to an unjust and discriminatory practice.

Even Lady Gaga took to the Twitter waves to exult her tears and pride.

While critics of the decision to allow free speech on the matter of sexual orientation in the military are no doubt perturbed today, these persons can take solace in the fact that discrimination is alive and well in seemingly progressive towns like Menlo Park, California.

Or maybe it's just good old fashioned Cover Your Behind politics.

Earlier this month, the 5 – 1, denying a Menlo Park eight-year-old girl the opportunity to play on a boy's basketball team in the city's youth league.  The commission's excuse:  it didn't want to set a "negative precedent."

And what precedent is that exactly?

That girls aren't as capable as boys at shooting a jump shot?  That girls are more likely to be injured because of their gender?  That girls are inferior athletically?

These absurdities are benign compared to the precedent the commission was really protecting:  of course she should be allowed to play, but I don't want to take the fall if something goes wrong.

The commission is in place first and foremost to protect the interest of the city, not its citizens.  If the little girl plays and she gets hurt, guess who takes the blame and pain in the pocketbook?  The city and your tax dollars, that's who. 

It's just too risky for the city to allow this girl or any other to do what should seem obvious to most rational adults:  If the girl wants to play and her parents are willing to sign a waiver, let her play!

Why are we holding her back?  Why are we setting a precedent for discrimination?  Aren't we supposed to be trying to teach our kids the exact opposite idea?

Like the little girl's parents said, "."

When I was five, my parents signed me up for tee ball even though the approved age was six.  I loved baseball and was good at it, so my otherwise law-abiding parents saw it OK to bend the rules. 

Had I been hurt playing with the older boys, I can't imagine my parents giving a second thought to suing the city.  About the same age, I fell out of a bunk bed at a department store and had to go to the emergency hospital.  These days there'd be a half dozen lawyers following us to the hospital.  Back then my parents were just thankful that the emergency room fee wasn't too severe.

I have a four year old boy now and he's a pretty good ballplayer.  My wife and I have considered signing him up for tee ball, but the rules say boys and girls must be between the ages of five and a half and six by April 30, 2011 in order to be eligible.  My son can hit a fast pitch overhand baseball from 30 feet away today, but he can't play tee ball until 2012.

Some will say, so what?  Don't rush him.  You don't want him to get hurt, do you?

I get it, and to tell you the truth, I'm not sure we'd risk it since our son is a bit on the small size even for kids his own age.  But here's the thing:  he should be allowed to play if we and he want to, provided we accept the risks.

On basketball courts or in barracks, the precedent we should be setting is one of tolerance for each of our unique qualities and characteristics.  Discrimination is a social construct that still needs to change.