My daughter is on a volleyball team. It's a high point of my day to sit on the sidelines and cheer along with a faithful cadre of parents. Today was an away game, and I chatted with the librarian from the other school. We did not let our different allegiances get in the way of our enthusiasm. She said she does not usually come to games, but immediately after this one she would be setting up the book fair. 

"What is the school like?" I asked. 

"Very good. There are ten thousand applicants each year."

"For how many openings?"

"A little over a hundred."

I was floored. Just then a point was scored, and I remembered to clap. It is thrilling to see the girls dive for a low ball, or pounce on a well executed set up. I was glad for the time we went shopping for knee pads. 

Two girls wearing pinnies stood on the side lines holding flags. Whenever there was uncertainty about whether a ball was legal, her flag flew up or down. I was impressed that she could concentrate when there was so much action. I found myself easily distracted. I never once heard one admit to the ref that she was unsure. 

Everyone seemed willing to trust the judgment of the girl doing lines. Plus there was a consensus that only the balls that landed inside were valid. Too bad, as some of the ones that bounced farther out had a lot of power. I could never hit them that hard when I was fifteen.

Lately a few people have asked me about boundaries. Their partners have made statements that seem to them to be unfair. In other cases, they ran by their own part of the conversation asking if I thought it was reasonable. 

Knowing that my ability to recreate a dialogue word for word is sketchy as best, I tried to offer impartial feedback. 

"It sounds like you stated your feelings without blame. That's fair."

"There was a lot of power in what she said, but I think it was over the line."

But most of us are playing in relationships where there are no refs. Which is problematic.