In Flint, Harbaugh continues to evolve the student-athlete experience

FLINT, Mich. -- Jim Harbaugh is one of the most interesting, innovative, and, depending on who you ask, polarizing coaches in college football.

Earlier this week, he was in the national media for his comments on the nation's abortion divide, an argument that both sides passionately disagree on, which created a divisive dialogue across the country.

It's not the first time the eighth-year Michigan coach split a room with one of his statements or actions, albeit the most controversial topic he's touched on.

You can scream that Harbaugh is a football coach all you want. In an era where everyone is encouraged to have an opinion on anything, it would contradict everything to fault him for voicing his opinion, right or wrong.

However, we can all agree that Harbaugh isn't going to be the spokesperson who engineers impactful change in the abortion crisis.

Still, there's nothing wrong with him having an opinion on the matter and sharing it, no matter how right or wrong that statement may be. In the grand scheme of things, Harbaugh's view makes, quite literally, zero difference in the situation's outcome.

Maybe you love what he said. Maybe you hate it. The good news is that Jim Harbaugh is a football coach and not a politician, so this is likely the end of it or one of the few times we'll have to hear about it.

So as we often do, we move on. Maybe we don't sweep it under the rug and forget, but we get back to where Harbaugh makes the most significant difference: his football program.

During Michigan's six-hour stop in Flint, Mich., on the first leg of the program's "Our State" team trip, Harbaugh said nothing about the topic.

Thursday was about the program. Most importantly, it was about the program's education of Flint and its impact on the community.

In a city riddled with crime and government neglect, Michigan football brought an estimated 122 people on four coach buses to the Boys And Girls Club of Greater Flint on Thursday morning.

During their stop, the program split into three groups. One group stuck around at the Boys And Girls Club to paint a mural from scratch alongside 60 students. Another group went to Flint's International Academy, where 60 more students worked next to players and coaches on a beautification project.

Meanwhile, a select group of 15 players, primarily seniors, Harbaugh, and several other program staff members, went to the Genesee County Jail to pack lunches, hand them out, and converse with inmates as a part of the I.G.N.I.T.E. program founded by County Sheriff Christopher Swanson.

When Michigan's program arrived at the jail, they started in the bullpen, where they saw dozens of shoulder-to-shoulder inmates waiting for booking.

The media followed the program throughout the visit.

They went to the kitchen from the bullpen, where quarterback Cade McNamara, alongside defensive tackle Mazi Smith, defensive end Taylor Upshaw, and tight end Alan Selzer, led a crew of Wolverines in a lunch-packing assembly line.

Towards the end, Harbaugh jumped in to help.

"Do I need gloves?"

"You have to wash your hands, coach."

"OK!"

After packing enough lunches to feed a floor of inmates, Michigan's group and the media split up.

Upshaw and Selzer went to a cell block on the jail's fourth floor. They handed a styrofoam lunchbox to each inmate, shook their hand, and wished them well.

That could've been it. A few quick pictures of Michigan football players packing and handing out lunches would've been enough, but the experience opened many eyes to what happened next.

(The jail asked the media to remove inmates' faces from photos)

After McNamara, Smith, and senior two-way player Mike Sainristil handed out lunches through the doors of cells on the opposite side of the floor, they came back to join Upshaw and Selzer.

Rather than giving them the meals and leaving, the group of seniors stuck around for the entirety of the inmates' lunch period.

They went around the room, to each table, and had conversations with many of the inmates.

Some inmates wanted to talk their ears off, while others wanted to eat and return to their cells. By the time they were there for 15 minutes, every inmate seemed engaged and interested in what the Wolverines had to say.

"F--- Ohio," one inmate said with a smile as McNamara walked away.

I learned that every day isn't like this when you're an inmate. It almost felt like a show to some of them, like they were the puppets for the photos to make these footballers look good to the public eye.

"I have an M.B.A., you know?" one inmate said initially. "I went to grad school, just like you."

I let the conversations be private, but these inmates' tone and cadence told the story.

They were skeptical at first of these 21-to-24-year-olds coming and playing volunteer.

But, in the end, there was respect, enjoyment, and fulfillment.

There was a purpose.

Those representatives of the program could've easily walked away and carried on. But they stayed, had tough conversations, and both sides got something out of it.

Following the lunch, the coaches & players followed Swanson and his team to his office's conference room, where Swanson spoke about I.G.N.I.T.E.

According to the mission statement, the program is "eliminating generational incarceration through education by restoring value, hope, and purpose to our inmate population."

Swanson told the team that nine-out-of-ten inmates have a 5th-to-6th grade reading level, and nine out of ten are addicted or co-addicted.

Thanks to I.G.N.I.T.E., inmates go to school two hours a day with a laid-out process that prepares them for graduation. Some get G.E.D.s, others certificates; regardless, when the inmates graduate, they get caps and gowns. For a moment, they're celebrated and have a sense of purpose.

And it works because, according to Swanson, within 90 days, most inmates increase their reading levels and math skills by a grade.

For context, if an inmate is booked for five years and enters with a 5th-grade reading level that goes up one grade every 90 days, that's four grades per year. By the time that inmate's sentence is over, he'll be reading at a college level or beyond after entering at the same level as an elementary school student.

At Genesee County Jail, they believe second chances exist when you want one, and someone is willing to give it to you. In a country where incarceration is as backward and corrupt as any industry, Swanson is giving inmates hope.

"We have inmates who have never been told 'good job,' and we put them in a cap and gown," Swanson said to the team. "Harvard graduates have come in to work with inmates before. Mayoral candidates came in from the city hall and made the inmates feel like they matter."

Johnell Allen is an I.G.N.I.T.E. ambassador who served 30 years in the Genesee County Jail from 1990 to 2020 for second-degree homicide.

He met Swanson while serving his time. The two connected and helped each other. Swanson showed Allen what his life could be like after prison. In contrast, Allen showed Swanson what he could do with his power to make incarceration a transformative experience during and after.

"What we've been able to do is unite everybody and have an education. Because, if we put everybody's blood here, what color is it? We can't tell who's who," Allen said to the team. "At I.G.N.I.T.E., we try to make that work. I want to treat you better than I treat myself. I.G.N.I.T.E. has changed the mindset."

According to Swanson, the program is hitting states around the country and growing by the day.

Once Swanson and Allen finished speaking, Harbaugh invited them to be honorary captains at a game this fall.

Allen, a lifelong Wolverine fan, cried and accepted the invitation.

To the Sheriff, Harbaugh and his team's presence was immeasurable.

"We have the data to prove it. We have the objective stats and the subjective stories. So when (Michigan) comes here, and you know they take world trips, they said they're going to start in Flint at the Genesee County Jail ... man ... I did my part, and that's the greatest validation," the Sheriff said. "As a leader, you want to be validated that you're on the right path, making an impact, and changing lives. Then a guy like Harbaugh comes in, and his players who have never met me, and says that. Today is a win for this office."

From start to finish, it was something I had never seen before.

Because who the hell brings their football team to prison two weeks before fall camp?

Harbaugh does.

And who puts on gloves to pack the lunches alongside his players? Pushes a cart around the jail to hand out lunches? Who asks for a towel and spray, gets on his knees, and cleans a jail cell without prompt?

Harbaugh does.

His opinions sometimes split rooms, and his quirkiness often makes you scratch your head. He's not your typical dude. He is exactly who he is, for better or worse.

When it comes to the annual team trip, whether it's Rome, South Africa, or Flint, Harbaugh is transforming the student-athlete experience. He's taking his team places they'd never go if it wasn't for Michigan football, whether it's the Eiffel Tower or the fourth floor of a prison.

We'll all have an opinion on Jim Harbaugh, the public speaker, but Jim Harbaugh, the football coach, continues to do things wildly different than his peers.

And his team loves him for it.

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