By Jennifer Hiller
Advertiser Education Writer

Sometimes members of the state Board of Education just don't get it, even when they try.

At a recent committee meeting where a discussion of making surfing an official high school sport was on the table, the board went into a closed session.

The few dozen surfers and surfing advocates who had shown up to testify were shown the door.

They milled about in the hallway, fuming, waiting to be allowed back inside.

Some had flown in from Maui to testify and were nervously checking their watches to see if they had time to wait before they needed to get to the airport.

Others were just plain mad.

But most of them thought the board was conspiring (their word, not mine) with the assistant attorney general, plotting (again, their word) to come up with a way to prevent surfing from becoming an official sport.

A Department of Education spokesman got into a heated discussion with a state lawmaker and a few members of the public about whether the board should be in closed session.

People were rolling their eyes. "They do this to us every time," one person told me.

Overall, it wasn't the best public relations move for the board.

But it's one that public panels often make.

Anytime something like a legal or personnel matter is discussed, the Board of Education goes into what's called executive session. Everyone leaves, they close the doors and someone will come shoo you away if you're standing uncomfortably close to the room where they're hashing out education policy.

Certainly, they're allowed to do this under the law. State law says that boards can hold closed meetings "To consult with the board's attorney on questions and issues pertaining to the board's powers, duties, privileges, immunities and liabilities."

But they don't have to.

And in a situation like this, should they?

There was no real estate deal on the line. Or a particular employee to discuss.

For surfing-as-a-sport advocates who have been trying to figure out how to help make the sport legal and limit the state's liability risk, the closed-door session came across as a roadblock to the public's finding out how a solution could be reached.

Someone on the board could have said, "Hey everyone, we need to go into a closed session to talk to our attorney about how this can work. We're sorry for the inconvenience and we will be out as soon as possible."

But they didn't. Instead the process seemed abrupt, secretive, exclusionary.

So everyone in the audience was a bit surprised when the board actually ended up supporting the surfing measure.

The board committee voted 10-0 to draft a policy that would allow schools to form surfing teams for competition and satisfy what many advocates say is a void in public school sports.

A final vote could come as early as next month.

Although questions remain about nearly every aspect of how the new program would work, almost all board members ended up expressing support for at least some type of state-sanctioned high school surfing.

It appears that the conspiracy theories were wrong, and that the board members were not, in fact, out to get everyone who had testified at their meetings.

But opinions formed over years, even decades, die hard.

Reach Jennifer Hiller at jhiller@honoluluadvertiser.com or 525-8084.