In Good Faith

The university whose ring I wear on my right hand, whose diploma I hang on my wall, whose hat can be seen in many pictures, had a student-athlete, football player Sam Ukwuachu, convicted today of a 2013 sexual assault of a former Baylor student-athlete, Jane Doe.

This case came to light a few days ago, when rumors of why exactly Ukwuachu had been "soft-spended" from the football team following his transfer from Boise State started coming to light. Today, Texas Monthly ran a story on the background of this case, as well as the university and athletic department's responses to the case at the local (campus) level.

These responses, if Texas Monthly's reporting is true, are unacceptable.

But after the school’s investigation (so insufficient, according to the court, that the judge sustained a motion from the prosecution to restrict the defense from referencing it during the trial), Baylor took no action to discipline Ukwuachu, even while charges were still pending. From Baylor’s brief investigation, to its failure to consider disciplinary action, to its defensive coordinator’s statements this summer about the player’s expected return, the school’s idea of how to respond to serious rape allegations is seriously out of step with that of the courts.

How can I in good conscience throw my support behind a university that seemingly cared not about someone who so direly needed care?

One of Baylor Football's favorite things to tout is how this is a university (and an athletic program) of second chances. That forgiveness and help are Christian values, and how a good environment and support from strong coaches can change someone's life. These are admirable traits, taken at face value, and there have been proven success stories from this program.

In the shadow of second chances, however, can be found the possibility for deep shame. When does a second chance become an excuse to keep a talented player, rather than an attempt to help a human being?

When does athletics trump the human mission of the school...and when does the "Christian" mission of the school create problems when dealing with crimes of a sexual nature?

It keeps coming back to this: What if Jane Doe had been me? How can I feel comfortable in recommending my friends, the young women I know and love, go to a university that has shown what appears to be only a passing interest in treating potential victims of horrible crimes with respect?

I went to Baylor. I love Baylor, the institution, the professors I had, the education I received, the traditions I passed down, the family I gained. I also understand Baylor - and what the good and the bad of the religious mission can be.

However: Even if you, in your misguided ivory towers, think that a young woman (or man) who is reporting an assault of a sexual nature somehow "sinned" in the crime committed against them - even if you don't believe their tale until it is proven in court - even though "innocent until proven guilty" is the technical law of the land - how can you in any good faith force a victim, even an alleged one, to share classes, to share rooms, with the accused? How can you put that burden on them - that they must bend themselves and their injured selves to your will, when they are hurting - is not the Christian mission one of healing?

There should not be a cherry-picking of forgiveness away from aiding those who are hurting.

I know that there is more still to be seen in this case - but by being silent, statements are said.

Tightropes

I long for the safe spotlight - holding an audience in the palm of my hand, anonymously. I would have killed for solos in college, for that brief moment when I got to step outside of the group and prove myself, but only for a second, a brief minute, before being absorbed back into the warm comfort of a larger group. 

Wind ensembles (and orchestras) hold both some of my best and worst memories. Competition is what kept me in music, and what drew me to sports, and what keeps you alive can also kill you. I'm seven years removed from my first All-State selection, and the pride I have in that accomplishment still sits hot in my chest some days, both warming me and warning me. 

I'm older now, obviously. I'm not "the best band director in the state of Texas," as a journal from my senior year of high school amusingly posits for my future. I've lived through mental breakdown, instrumental burnout, pain and sorrow and also joy. I graduated with a very expensive degree with a major that doesn't exist outside of that narrow world of music. I've played flute maybe ten time since I graduated. It doesn't mean that music doesn't still live inside me. 

These days, the most use I get out of my degree is putting together playlists and judging the hell out of anthem singers. 

I miss performing, especially on days when the mundane world is a little to close (and then I want to slap myself, because how artsy-pretentious is that, the "mundane world," if I were my own editor I'd cut that in a hot second.) I miss the way that music gets inside the bones, can create life from ink and paper. Most of all, I miss that precipice, being balanced on that point where you're both inside and outside, selfishly wringing the music for your own meaning while trying to let the audience have theirs. 

It's hard to get this back to sports, particularly now that I've stopped typing this to conduct music at my desk multiple times. Where does it connect? That competitiveness - everyone working both together and for themselves. You thought really great music came together through pure collaboration? No more than a good team is made of up truly selfless individuals. That's the dirty side of both music and sports - to be the best, you have to be a degree of selfish. 

It's that balancing point I was talking about - that's where the best happens. You walk the tightrope, multiple tightropes, and sometimes you fall off. Sometimes you get back on the same rope. Sometimes you find a new one. 

Sometimes you end up sitting ten stories up listening to yourself from seven years ago and wondering where this tightrope goes.