We get the Sunday New York Times delivered every week (which accounts for the higher-than-usual number of stories from the Times that I link on Sundays…), and I read most of it, but I usually run out of steam before I get to the Magazine, unless the cover story really grabs me. This week was one of those times, with their profile of Michael Oher. I’m bothered by this particular story, in a way that’s a little hard to explain, so I’m going to babble about it here a bit, and see where that leads.
On the surface, it’s a really heartwarming story. Michael Oher is a poor black kid from the slums of Memphis, and the article tells about how a series of people went out of their way to help him. He was admitted to a good Christian school in the suburbs, and basically adopted by a well-off white family, who worked overtime to help him make up for his lack of education. They even got him a private tutor, and now he’s a sophomore in college.
He’s also a 6’5″, 330 lb highly-regarded left tackle. And that’s pretty much where I start to have a problem with this.
(Continued below the fold…)
Don’t get me wrong– the story is great. Oher’s parents were casualties of drugs, and his past is more or less lost– he won’t talk much about it, and the records are sketchy. The staff at Briarcrest Christian School took a big chance by letting him enroll. The Tuohy family’s actions in taking him in look like the very best of Christian charity– Sean Tuohy arranged for him to get free lunches, and Leigh Anne Tuohy started buying him clothes after seeing him walking through the snow in shorts and a T-shirt because those were the only things he owned. They took him into their own home after finding out that he was more or less homeless, sleeping over at different classmates’ houses, and carrying his belongings in trash bags. They’re a wonderful counter to the notion that born-again white folks in the South are all ignorant rednecks.
And yet, I can’t shake the feeling that had this appeared on the sports pages of the Times, it might’ve had a very different slant. Oher carried a D average into his senior year of high school, and the Tuohys hired a private tutor to help him get A’s and B’s. When his GPA was still below NCAA requirements, they arranged for him to wipe out a bunch of bad grades through correspondence courses at BYU (leading to my favorite quote from the article: “‘The Mormons may be going to hell,’ Sean says. ‘But they really are nice people.'”), to get him eligible to play at Ole Miss. The courses he used for this purpose sound a little dodgy, and the NCAA investigated, but eventually cleared him, after some badgering by Sean Tuohy.
Were this story to turn up in the Sports section, you might expect it to be yet another tale of academic abuses by the athletic department. It’s got all the usual hallmarks– the sudden change from D student to Honor Roll in the crucial last year of high school, the dodgy prep courses, the wealthy booster smoothing the way. If you look at the photo credits for the article, you’ll even find that Michael Oher’s high-school coach is now an assistant at Mississippi, another classic sketchy recruiting move.
And yet, in the Magazine, and the book the article is based on, it’s presented as a straight-up heart-warming human-interest story. It’s a touching story about a kid who caught a break from some nice folks, and who just happens to be a football prodigy.
I don’t mean to minimize what the people who helped Michael Oher out did. Even if they did personally benefit from helping him, or stand to benefit from it down the road, they did a great thing for him, and deserve to be commended for it.
But I can’t help wondering how many kids there are out there in Michael Oher’s situation who aren’t future NFL prospects, and whether anybody is picking them up while they trudge through the snow in shorts. How many people are bending the rules to give a scrawny 5’4″ girl a spot at an exclusive Christian academy? How many kids are out there mired in poverty and squalor, who won’t get the same shot that Michael Oher got, because their talents are less visible? What about the kids who could’ve been great musicians, or mathematicians, or doctors, but weren’t noticed?
Michael Oher has been given a rare shot to make a good life for himself, through the generosity of others, because he has prodigious athletic gifts that will make some team a whole lot of money. It’s great to see him get that shot, and I hope he makes the most of it.
It’s presented as an uplfting human interest story, and there’s certainly plenty of uplifting material. And Michael Oher was certainly lifted up. At the same time, though, we should spare a thought for the kids who are left behind.
To be fair, I doubt his athletic prowess was a factor in his being offered help, although I’m sure it’s helped him a lot recently.
To be fair, I doubt his athletic prowess was a factor in his being offered help
See, my problem is that I have a hard time believing that.
This is exactly the problem I have with Harry Potter type stories. What do you suppose it says to kids who are in situations like Harry’s with the Durseleys, or much worse, who *don’t* get rescued? It says they don’t deserve to that’s what. Hate rescue scenarious. Hate hate hate.
MKK
Chad, I had very similar reactions to yours…
I was rather distressed by the BYU correspondence “courses” that could be used to replace high school classwork, when they don’t seem to be equivalent at all. That’s pretty bogus, and if I were on an admissions committee, I wouldn’t be very happy about it.
But more generally, the article begs the really big question. Why should a guy who is universally seen as having great athletic potential forced to do stuff he’s obviously not good at in order to get into college just in order to play football? This is a classic case of a guy who should be playing “minor league” football out of high school for a couple of years before getting drafted by the NFL. The Christians who helped him out should be commended in helping him get his life back on track, and preparing him as much as possible for his much-brighter future. But Ole Miss? Colleges should be about college, not about NFL-prep. College sports are great, but they shouldn’t be the only track into a professional career for athletes.
And bigTom, although the article suggests that most of the help he got was because of his athletic potential. He might have gotten some help by virtue of his being a poor soul who needed help, but most of the attention he got, that allowed other people to help him, was due to lobbying by coaches…
I don’t think Tuohy saw a multi-million dollar football star; it really seems to me he just saw a hungry kid. (And I should add, I’m not the type to give the Tuohys of the world much credit. A $10,000 couch is a fucking abomination.)
It does seem, though, that he wouldn’t have got squat from anyone but the Tuohys if he hadn’t been gifted.
Not entirely on the topic of the post:
I read most of it, but I usually run out of steam before I get to the Magazine
This is exactly the opposite of how I read the Sunday Times. The magazine is pretty much the only reason I buy the paper anymore (well, that and the fact that I’ve been buying it at the same bookstore, and reading it over brunch at the same deli, for 10 years now…). I usually check over the book review, and sometimes make it through the Arts & Leisure section or the Week in Review, but really the magazine’s where it’s at.
As for the story about Oher, the one thing that I did note was that he was specifically forbidden from playing sports when he first got to Briarcrest. That went some way toward taking it from “talented athlete gets preferential treatment” to “heartwarming story”.
I don’t think Tuohy saw a multi-million dollar football star; it really seems to me he just saw a hungry kid. (And I should add, I’m not the type to give the Tuohys of the world much credit. A $10,000 couch is a fucking abomination.)
But the only reason he was in a position to encounter Tuohy in the first place was because the football coach lobbied for him to be allowed into Briarcrest. But you’re right, the initial connection with the Tuohys doesn’t seem to be financially motivated.
As an aside, how do you pronounce “Tuohy,” anyway?
The BYU “character” courses bothered me, but what bothered me most is the almost total lack of emotional, character, or academic growth in the piece.
Oher has his own futon, plays video games, he’s capable of being heavily coached through basic high school coursework, but is he any happier? Not to knock the happiness of a bed and warm meal, but can he read the newspaper, or read fiction, or even relate to others any better? I’m sure he can, but I see barely any evidence in the story. Heck, there’s no indication that he even loves football, he’s just trying to “make the league”.
By the end, my picture of Oher has barely changed from my initial impression of him as a closed-off automaton. We’re supposed to be happy that he’s overcome all obstacles (however dubious the academics) toward that well-paying career. It’s great that he’s come so far and that he’s so good, but the guy’s got to be more than his NFL career prospects. The story doesn’t really seem to portray any more than that. It’s an angle I never would have expected from the NYT Magazine.
how do you pronounce “Tuohy,” anyway?
I don’t know, but in my head I’m saying “TWO-y”. (Like “two-ish”.)
I too read that story in the NYTimes. And, like some others have noted, I felt ambivalent about the whole deal. The BYU courses seem like little more than gaming the system; and perhaps designed to provide that opportunity (among others?). Nothing new there. I expect that happens a lot more often than ever makes it into the news — although there have been more stories about the NCAA, high schol athletes, and quasi-credits recently. But the whole story had all the “taste” of flat beer. I do wish Michael luck. I have a feeling he is going to need it. I hope the Tuohy’s are in for the long haul.
Several people have commented on it elsewhere, many of whom seem to think that the writer wasn’t really trying for a straightforwardly heartwarming story.
After reading it myself, I think I agree. I read it more as a “well, so what does this tell you?” kind of thing. One thing you don’t mention is that the story, and it seems to do this on purpose, treats the actual person of Michael Oher as something of a cipher. He’s a blank slate for the wishes of other people.
I have not been able to stop thinking about this story. I found it absolutely fascinating.
I don’t agree that the story was “presented as a straight-up heart-warming human-interest story.” Lewis doesn’t interject his opinions, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t trying to say something more than “what a great uplifting story this is.” The discomfort you felt in reading it — about what happens to all of the kids with no obvious talent for sports or anything else — is precisely one of the points that Lewis is trying to make.
Harlan asks, “Why should a guy who is universally seen as having great athletic potential forced to do stuff he’s obviously not good at in order to get into college just in order to play football?” You’ve profoundly missed a main point of the piece. Oher’s intial academic aptitude and consequent (lack of) interest in academics is basically a function of the hard life he has been dealt with. To say that because of that he should just be allowed to go straight to the pros (or semi-pros) is really to unfairly write him off as just so much of a non-entity intellectually speaking. It is in part precisely because there is no minor football league that Oher is able to get the education he deserves, even if unwillingly at first. Perhaps there are stories of other individuals that might support your point, but I don’t think Mike Oher’s is one of them.
Rich Y, I think the closing paragraphs give an indication (not much, admittedly) that Oher has developed in the ways you describe. Given the relatively abrupt ending, I suspect that this aspect of the story was cut for length considerations.
I don’t agree that the story was “presented as a straight-up heart-warming human-interest story.” Lewis doesn’t interject his opinions, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t trying to say something more than “what a great uplifting story this is.” The discomfort you felt in reading it — about what happens to all of the kids with no obvious talent for sports or anything else — is precisely one of the points that Lewis is trying to make.
I didn’t get that from it at all. It didn’t seem like the ambivalence I felt about the story was in any way intentional on he part of the author. There wasn’t much in the way of injection of opinion, but the choice of things to present and the way those things were presented seemed very much a straight uplifting story.
If it was deliberately undercutting itself, it was too subtle for me. In particular, the utter lack of mention of any poor kids other than Oher makes me doubt that there was any intent to call them to mind.
Rich Y, I think the closing paragraphs give an indication (not much, admittedly) that Oher has developed in the ways you describe. Given the relatively abrupt ending, I suspect that this aspect of the story was cut for length considerations.
It was certainly edited for length, as it’s an excerpt from a book. It’s hard to tell whether the book has more about Oher as a person, though.
That lack was also troubling, but there are several possible reasons for it, ranging from “He’s just that boring,” to “Cut for length reasons,” to “He wouldn’t talk to the author, so the book was written around him.” Tough to say, really.
I hear Mr. Lewis on a radio show today and I have the feeling there is a lot of embellishment used in this story. A 6′ 300 lb black kid kid with a 0.6 GPA and an IQ of 80 gets in a private school? The Touhy’s see him in the snow? in Memphis? Its a great story but I don’t believe its the real story.