Points East
AS soon as TV began flashing pictures of Byran K. Uyesugi's yearbook rifle team picture last Tuesday, Keith Amemiya faced a dilemma. High school riflery
-- does it belong?In an untimely coincidence, the Hawaii High School Athletic Association's first state air riflery championships were to be held Thursday and Friday on the Big Island -- just a few days after Uyesugi allegedly shot to death seven Xerox co-workers.
Amemiya, the HHSAA's Executive Director, had to decide whether the tournaments should go on.
"We talked about what a terrible coincidence it was," Amemiya said. "There was some thought to postponing the competition, but in the end it would be unfair to the student athletes who trained hard and had nothing to do with the unfortunate tragedy."
Regardless of where you stand on gun control issues, I think we can all agree on the general statement that guns don't belong in schools.
Whether school-sanctioned riflery teams fall into the category of guns in school is debatable. The last thing I want to do is tarnish the luster of the hard-earned championships of the athletes from St. Louis and Sacred Hearts, or besmirch the efforts of the others who gave it their best in a sport that requires discipline, coordination and long practice.
I know about the tradition of riflery in Hawaii schools, and its connection with the military and ROTC. The military skills -- including how to shoot a gun -- that students learned at Kamehameha, St. Louis, Punahou, Leilehua and other schools saved lives on battlefields and helped mold the strong reputation of soldiers from Hawaii.
But times have changed. It's been decades since high schools helped prepare young men for war.
When I attended Pearl City High in the 1970s, several of my friends were on the rifle team. They were normal boys and girls who joined for something to do, as casually as one might join the bowling team.
I never fired a rifle until I joined the Army, and looking back on it, I think I took it a little lightly.
We all know now that shooting a gun, even a non-lethal air rifle, is a lot more serious than rolling a ball down a lane. But is it more dangerous than playing a contact sport like football? Is there a correlation between Uyesugi shooting at targets in high school and allegedly at people 25 years later?
There's no easy answer for that last question.
What seems clear is that Amemiya made the right call. The tournament went off without a hitch. Perhaps that it was on a different island than the fatal shootings eased potential tension.
"I think it was unspoken that the tournament had to run smoothly and free of controversy to ensure it would continue beyond this year," he said. "I don't know if it will happen. It's a duty to talk about it."
Hawaii's only one of two states to sanction high school riflery. That's no reason to ban it.
About 10 years ago, I did a feature on a high school rifle ace for Roosevelt, Uyesugi's alma mater. The student was an immigrant from Thailand who wasn't involved in any other organized school activities. His pride in representing Roosevelt via the rifle team was evident.
I don't know what happened to that boy; I can't even remember his name. I do know he got something positive out of high school riflery, and I'd be willing to bet he hasn't shot anyone.
"Air riflery teaches safety, responsibility and respect for firearms," Amemiya said.
Maybe, in this one case, guns do belong in schools.
Or maybe it's just adding to an already out-of-control gun culture.
Dave Reardon, who covered sports in Hawaii
from 1977 to 1998, is a sportswriter at the
Gainesville Sun. E-mail reardod@gvillesun.com