It’s the quarterfinals. Coach is on the sidelines, and before me: the end zone. There’s a crowd, and a rush fills my ears. I can hear them cheering. They’re stomping in the stands – or is that my pencil tapping on the lecture-hall desk? I hear chatting from the referees – no, moderators. My legs burn. Have I been running across a field, or just bouncing them anxiously against my chair? Plays and strategies run through my head. So many ways to answer one question. Should I tackle? Where’s the logical fallacy? How do we best gain yards?

And is that Fox on the sidelines? It makes sense he’d be at a football game. But we’re not at a football game, are we? The paper in front of me indicates no. It’s a case, a moral dilemma based on real-world problems. Also in front of me, a question – the one we’re competing with the team across from us to answer for the judges. And in the air, a bigger question:

What is interim Principal Alex Fox doing at an Ethics Bowl tournament?

Football and Ethics Bowl are, respectively, the most and least important competitive activities at EHS in the eyes of almost anyone you’ll ask. The priority of one over the other is clear, not only in the way students lose their minds for one and have a more muted support for the other, but also in the way administrators muster all their spirit for football while remaining pretty much unaware of Ethics Bowl’s existence. 

I’m the kind of student that does just fine at EHS. I sculpt and glue in the art room, write and snap photos for publications and pin paper onto bulletin boards for honor societies. But I’m not the kind of student that gets a sideline congratulation from administrators after an accomplishment. I’m not part of groups that are deemed worthy of their time. If you look at the trophies and jerseys framed in the cafeteria and hallways, you’ll be able to tell pretty quickly what EHS is all about. 

But on Jan. 25, during the quarterfinals of the sectional competition, as myself and the rest of Edwardsville’s No. 1-seeded Team Orange faced Marion High School, Fox walked through the door. A grateful laugh circled the room, and my team exchanged grins. He’d stay all the way throughout the finals, as Team Orange narrowly defeated Edwardsville’s No. 3-seeded Team Silver. And he’d congratulate us personally as the trophy was handed over.

When all 7 feet of Fox ducked through that doorframe, it was satisfying and jolting. Satisfying, because it was our fourth match of the day, and I could feel Team Orange losing steam around me. All exhausted – sweating through our matching maroon suits – we needed someone to make us feel appreciated, someone to perform for. Fox lightened the mood.

Jolting, because I’d never felt support like that before. Is that how athletes feel all the time? Like there’s someone big and important rooting for them? It’s a feeling all students should get to experience, no matter what they spend their time doing. 

Theater performers work as hard as art students, who work as hard as publications students, who work as hard as Science Olympiad contestants, who work as hard as instrumentalists, who work as hard as football players and track runners. It’s discouraging to the others to see one get all the love. It’s more discouraging still to see one get most of the funds.

Fox received a standing ovation from the staff when it was announced he was staying on as principal for several more years. Why? Perhaps because he makes people feel like someone is paying attention. He shouldn’t be the only administrator hopping from one student event to the next. All the powerful people who claim to take a vested interest in the development of their students should make the effort to go out and observe how they are performing in their activities.

And not only did Fox observe the match, he engaged with it – asking our coach Kirk Schlueter questions about the competition structure and complementing our style of argument. When we returned to school, he congratulated our win over the intercom along with the cheer and dance teams’ recent successes.

Among the artistic and academic groups I participate in, it’s a sad running joke that we’ll never take priority over sports. If Fox sets a standard wherein administrators feel obliged to acknowledge the successes of all students, athletes or not, it would be a massive win to the clubs who have never felt backed by something bigger than themselves. 

Ethics Bowl will never have an indelible tradition like Friday Night Lights. But a generous administrator showing up to a few matches – that’s only moral.