X-Games

I can't resist putting my thoughts about the X-Games on "paper". I am a huge sports fan in every possible way. I love to compete myself, although I have no skills. I run road races, duathlons, bike rides, and will soon complete my first triathlon. I love to play basketball, soccer, lacrosse, and virtually any other sport I get the chance to play. As a teacher and coach, I can definitely see the value of sports in a young person's life. The lessons of trusting your teammates, being a trustworthy teammate, and handling winning and losing with grace are invaluable. The ability to find victory in defeat is crucial as well. (What did I do particularly well today? What did I learn today to make myself better tomorrow?)

The world of professional sports is an entirely different thing, though, and too often, youth sports seem to emulate that world. On TV we daily watch the desperate struggle to win, or to make more money than other athletes. Violence has become commonplace in professional sports, and we write it off as players' being emotional. All of us are emotional, but most of us don't get to punch somebody at work and write it off as really caring about our jobs!

This week, I've spent a lot of time watching the X-Games, and they always renew my faith in sports. Perhaps part of it is that there are very few events in the X-Games where people directly compete against others at the same time, but the sportsmanship is astounding. Simply thinking about the final night of the games on Sunday, there is plenty of fodder for optimism. I watched the Snowmobile Best Trick competition in which riders did insane things off a huge ramp with a snowmobile. Hoyer went for a trick that nobody had completed in competition previously - the double back-flip. Unfortunately, and somewhat gruesomely, he didn't complete the trick on Sunday, and instead crashed nose-first, with the 450-lb snowmobile landing on top of him. The injuries were bad, but not life-threatening. What really struck me about this situation, though, was the reaction of all his competitors, especially Heath Frisby. Frisby was also planning on trying a trick that had never been completed in competition - the front flip. Hoyer's failure greatly increased Frisby's chances of winning. Instead of celebrating his own good luck at Hoyer's failure, as many mainstream professional athletes would have done, Frisby dropped everything and sprinted for a monitor where he could see if his friend/competitor was all right. Later in the evening, when Frisby landed his front-flip, everyone in the crowd, including his competitors, went nuts. They were so excited about being witnesses to history, and so supportive of their friend's success, that nothing else mattered. In what other sport do you still see that kind of sportsmanship?

One other moment in that same broadcast of the X-Games really struck me as amazing. The games ended with the finals of the men's snowboard Superpipe, an event that Shaun White was expected to win. Not surprisingly, when it came down to White's final run of the night, he had already won the gold medal. He could have ridden straight down the center of the pipe without pulling any tricks at all and he still would have won. What did White do? He threw down the most difficult run in the history of Snowboarding! At the end of his run, when he was tired and had lost a lot of his speed, he combo-ed two tricks - one that only two people in the world can do, and one that only Shaun White can do - to finish his run. He wound up with a perfect 100, the highest score ever given in snowboarding. In the NFL, when a game is meaningless, the team sits its best players. In a similar situation, Shaun White took the biggest risk in his sport's history. I can't necessarily blame the NFL teams for this, because they have to be looking toward the future - they have a franchise to worry about. I do, however, appreciate the approach Shaun White took. This non-mainstream sport is still about the thrill and the love of the sport, not about winning championships and earning money.

In a world where sports have become a major business and fans have become jaded, the X-Games remind me of what sports are all about. A big thank you to Shaun White, Bobby Brown, and Sarah Burke for reminding me why I love sports and competition, and I can't wait for next year!

My Favorite T-Shirt

I have a t-shirt that I bought in Gatlinburg, TN when I was there for a family reunion honoring my Grandmother's 90th birthday. On the back, the shirt says, "You don't stop exploring when you get old. You get old when you stop exploring." That has become my favorite cheezy saying.

I was thinking about that shirt while I was out for a run today, and it got me thinking about the year I have ahead of me. I turn 40 next week, and my kids love to remind me that I will officially be over the hill and old. Then I think about what's coming up. In March I will become a certified SCUBA diver. A week later, I will run my 4th half marathon. In June, I will compete in my first ever triathlon, then a week later, I'll be in Hawaii using that SCUBA certification for the first time. In the Fall, my daughter will start high school at the school where I teach, and my son will start middle school - big adventures for all of us. I'd be willing to bet money that my wife and I will finish our first Century ride together this fall as well. 40 sounds pretty awesome to me! If this is what it means to get old, then bring it on!

There is always something new out there to try - it doesn't have to be physical or athletic. Maybe the next year I'll start learning to speak Korean to better communicate with some of my students' families or take a class in a new area of math. I definitely plan on running the Spartan Race some day. Seemingly surrounded by writers these days, maybe I'll focus on writing that book I've always wanted to write. (No, I have no idea what it would be about.) I'm embarrassed by how many museums there are in this city which I've never visited. Maybe I'll finally learn to sail like I've always wanted - the classes are pretty cheap. I have a pretty thorough knowledge of the Southern Pennsylvania and Central Virginia sections of the Appalchian Trail; that only leaves about 2100 more miles to check out.

You don't stop exploring when you get old. You get old when you stop exploring. I resolve to NEVER get old!

Carpe Diem

It's been a long time since I wrote my last blog entry. Maybe that's why I only have two followers. :) I only write when I'm inspired by something and today I was inspired. I teach in a private, church-affiliated school, and our Friday chapel service is completely student-run each week. It's definitely the highlight of the chapel week. Today, one of my students spoke and although she didn't reveal the key fact until halfway through her talk, I knew from the beginning because I teach her. She spoke about going home from boarding school for Christmas break and getting together with her friends from her old K-8 school. They planned a reunion of a big group of friends and at the last minute realized they had not invited one girl they had known. They decided that, although they liked her and were friends with her, she would make the reunion awkward if she were there. (Admit it, you can think of exactly the person in your past who fits that description.) In the end, they decided not to invite her, because they could always invite her to a Spring Break reunion later. Two weeks later, they got the news that the girl they had not invited had died in a car accident. There would be no opportunity for a Spring Break reunion.

There are so many ways you could go emotionally in that situation, especially as a teenager - some of the most emotionally tumultuous years of life. I can say from experience that I would not react well. Listening to this student speak today, I was drawn back to the late 80s, when I was a teenager in high school. Throughout my youth, my best friends were my friends in the church youth group, even though I did not go to school with any of them. We had a very tight group that had been close friends since earliest memories, despite the fact that our ages ranged across several years. I was one of the younger ones in the group, so I was still in high school when many had gone off to college. Although we didn't stay in touch as well as we should have, there was still a tight connection. I still have vivid memories of the day I learned that one of our group had been killed in a car accident. She was already in college and was coming back from a service trip when the driver of the car fell asleep. I had attended a number of funerals by that point in my life, but this was the first time I had mourned somebody around my own age who had been a friend of mine.

The student who spoke today took such a mature and optimistic approach to the tragedy. (This seems like a good moment to throw out my mantra - TEENAGERS ARE AWESOME!) She spoke about taking advantage of the opportunities we have every day to enjoy life and to touch the lives of those around us. She put off inviting her old friend to the reunion and permanently missed the chance to do so. Rather than dwelling on that missed opportunity, she has used this tragedy to motivate herself and others not to miss those chances in the future. Every single day, we need to recognize, appreciate, and act on all the opportunities we have. Life is truly awesome and we waste so much of it being negative or apathetic. Even if we live to be 100 years old, we still have so many opportunities to fill that life with awesomeness that we pass up for no particular reason. The speaker today encouraged all of us to take advantage of those opportunities and to appreciate even the little things that we get to experience and enjoy every day.

I'm sure the similarities between today's chapel speaker and my own high school experience are pretty clear, but there's more. I attended my friend's funeral in high school, at the church where we had all spent so many happy hours together. While most funerals have one or two speakers who deliver a message about the deceased's life, this funeral was different, and far more meaningful and moving. Instead of a speaker, they played a recording over the church's sound system. Less than a year before, my friend had delivered the message at the funeral of a friend of hers. She spoke about the fact that this tragedy made her realize that every day could be the last. She resolved never to miss an opportunity to let the people around her know how much they meant to her or to make a difference in other people's lives, because every interaction she has with somebody could be her last. Most importantly, she followed through on that resolution. After that day, her life was a mission to make things better for those around her. Less than a year later, her time came, and she was the speaker at her own funeral.

Today's chapel speech reminded me of that day, 20 years ago. While there is no other way to describe the accidental death of a teenager in a car wreck other than as a tragedy, this student has found the meaning behind the tragedy. What a gift to realize at the age of 18 how awesome life is and how many opportunities we have to reach out to those around us! I get wrapped up in my own issues and stresses and lose track of the amazing privileges I have and the wonderful people who surround me every day. Today Tyler reminded me of Carrie, and of how lucky I am, and I really needed that. In January people tend to focus on what is wrong with their lives. New Year's Resolutions are all about fixing things. When you think about it, though, so much is right in our lives. If you are still looking for a New Year's Resolution, how about resolving to appreciate all the awesome little moments and people you encounter every day? Maybe if we all resolve to do that, we won't need tragedies to remind us of how great we have it.

In case I haven't said it enough yet - TEENAGERS ARE AWESOME - and I get to learn from them every single day!

New Perspective

A month or so ago, some television channel ran a marathon of old episodes of My So-Called Life. When I'm up late working and there's nothing good on TV for background noise, I'll turn on an episode on the DVR. It is definitely interesting to go back to a show that you loved as a teenager now that you have 20 years of perspective. My first thought each time I watch is that the show really was THAT good! It is definitely one of the best-written shows ever on television, and the acting is actually really good too - especially considering that they were almost all unknown kids at the time. As a parent and a high school teacher, I feel like I'm more qualified than most to judge the authenticity of a show about teenagers, and they did a terrific job.

I recognized my truly new perspective while watching the show last night. I was a teenage boy when the show came out, so I don't think anybody will be surprised that I was totally in love with Angela Chase back then. Now I'm watching the show as the parent of a daughter not far from Angela's age. Last night I watched the pilot in which Angela dyes her hair that awesome dark red. This past summer, my daughter dyed her hair blue. Sometimes Angela has trouble finding her place in school because she thinks about things and feels things at a deeper level than most of her classmates - again, just like my daughter. Watching this show from the perspective of a parent is possibly even more awesome than watching it from the perspective of a teenager. At the end of the pilot last night, after struggling through her desire to rebel and be independent, Angela finally breaks down and falls crying into the safety of her mother's arms. It was a perfect portrayal of the struggles of a young teenager, wanting freedom but needing safety at the same time. My first thought  - Wow! That just completely made her mother's year! Watching the show as a teenager, I had no idea how difficult all of this was for her parents  - trying to find the right balance of letting Angela figure out who she is without giving her too much rope. Sometimes they mess up, sometimes they hit the balance perfectly. At the same time they have their own struggles and issues to deal with. They are not perfect, but overall they do a pretty darned good job and have raised a pretty awesome daughter. I had no idea that you could watch this as a show about the struggles of parenting a teenager as opposed to just a show about the struggles of being a teenager, but it's a brand new show this way, and equally awesome!

Jump to 4:30 for the final scene. Any parent will appreciate the look on Mrs. Chase's face when Angela starts to apologize.

Shipwrecked

One of the highlights of my year at work is the Burch trip. We take the entire ninth grade out for a 5-day backpacking experience on the Appalachian Trail, led by instructors from Outward Bound. I love watching our students tackle the challenges they face on the trail and experience an environment completely unlike what many of them are used to. One faculty member accompanies each group of 10-12 students, and the experience has been completely different with the different groups of kids I have accompanied. Some years I am very impressed by them, and other years I am disappointed. Even in the disappointing years, though, there are always a few kids that stand out from the group as exceptional.

The Outward Bound instructors are very good at challenging the group just beyond their comfort zones. They have a huge bag of tricks from which to draw and adjust their plan on the fly as they learn what the current group can handle. So far, my favorite challenge they've given the group is the Shipwreck. We roped off a small part of the campsite and told the group that their ship had capsized. As they swam to the closest island, they were only able to grab three bags of gear. We set out the gear in bags for them to choose before we started. The groups of 10 chose a bag with three sleeping bags, another with a single headlamp so that they could see to use the bathroom during the night, and the "mystery bag". If they had chosen dinner, they would have also had to choose the stove to cook it, so they correctly assumed the mystery bag had food that didn't need cooking in it. The group all agreed at the end of the trip that shipwreck was the best night of the trip, as they had to really work together to get through the night.

Why am I thinking about this right now? The kids are out on Burch right now. I wasn't able to go this year because I committed our family to hosting an exchange student this week instead, but I can't help but think about the trip this week. Tonight I am thinking about the shipwreck. If some calamity happened to my home, what would be the three things I would grab on my way out of the house? The true answer is too easy. I would get my family out. Really - what else matters? But that answer is too easy, so let's make a "no living things" rule. If some calamity happened to your home and you could only grab three things on the way out, with everything else sure to be destroyed, what three things would you grab (other than living things)? It's a tough question, and one that can definitely induce some guilt. Once you choose your three, look back at them and think about what that says about you.

What are my three? Even as I type this, I'm not sure. I'll give it a try, though. This is just a rough draft.

1) My laptop. So much is on my laptop - everything that has to do with my work, all of my photos, a lot of my day-to-day entertainment. It seems like a minor thing, but computers really have become the link between the individual and the world.

2) My dad's picture. I only have one (he died over 30 years ago), and right now it's not even on the wall because it recently fell and the frame broke and I haven't gotten around to replacing the frame, but I think I'd want that one momento.

3) As much as I could possibly grab related to the piano. If I could get the piano itself out, I would. If not, I would grab an armload of sheet music, assuming that I could use pianos in the practice rooms at school. The piano is the easiest way for me to tap into and express whatever emotions I've been bottling up inside, and I think if I had some kind of calamity in which I lost all but three things I owned, I would need that outlet to get me through.

Once you put those three things in writing, you have to start thinking about what you left out. The one glaring omission seems to be anything family-related. I haven't rescued my kids' baby books or the cake topper from our wedding (which we still proudly display). Since the assumption at the beginning was that living things were safe, I hope it is not too damning that I did not rescue any of those things. We should still have plenty of years to create new memories.

What are your three? Do you see a theme? Are they all work-related? Family-related? Selfish (like mine)? What does that mean? Are you brave enough to respond with your three things in the comments section below? With what should I replace one of the items on my list of three?

What could possibly be next?

Before you commit any time to reading this blog entry, let me warn you that this one is a downer. If you're not up for that right now, then move on to something else. I've said before that this blog is a good place to put down my conflicting thoughts to help myself sort through them, and this is one of those cases. I've been complaining for the past couple of days about how awful they have been and all the terrible things that keep happening, and then tonight I got hit by a massive dose of perspective.

First, the backstory. This weekend was originally going to be a triumphant weekend for Deb and I as we were going to complete our first century ride together. For the non-cyclists out there, a century ride is a 100-mile organized group ride. Deb has been battling a foot injury all fall, which has hopefully been diagnosed correctly for the first time this week, but she had to drop out of the ride weeks ago. Instead I left Saturday afternoon to drive out to the town where the ride started Sunday morning to do my first century on my own. As I left campus, I noticed a group of kids playing together in the front fields - a pretty standard EHS sight and one of the big reasons we live here. While at dinner in Front Royal, VA, I get a call from Deb telling me how Mark had gone out to play with those kids right after I left and had ended up falling awkwardly on his hand and injuring it. She took him the the school doctor/next-door neighbor who showed her how to splint it and told her to call our doctor in the morning. By morning it was so swollen that Deb took him to the ER to get it x-rayed. Luckily it's a bad sprain, not a break, but he's in a pretty serious splint for a while. At every rest stop on the bike ride, I checked in to see what progress had been made in his diagnosis. So at this point, we have Deb out with an injured foot and Mark in a splint with an injured hand.

I, at least, had a terrific bike ride. The weather was cool and comfortable and the tomato sandwiches were delicious. Around mile 80 I started thinking about what I wanted to post as my triumphant post-ride Facebook status. By mile 85 I had settled on a picture of my cyclocomputer showing the >100 mile distance with a caption of "Take THAT, bucket list!" At mile 86.2, I hear a pop, and then a metallic clank-clank-clank-clank. I immediately hit my brakes to see what happened and the guy who had been drafting off of me rode by yelling, "Broken spoke!" Yep - with less than 14 miles to go, I had broken a spoke. I knew there was a mechanic stationed at mile 91.8, so I used one of the twist ties attaching my number to my bike to MacGyver a temporary fix and rode on cautiously. The mechanic told me I had the choice of stopping there and paying a few dollars to replace the spoke later, or finish the ride on my crippled bike and then spend a few hundred dollars replacing the wheel. So, my first century ride ended after 92 miles, and I got a ride in a car back to the finish.

So now we have injuries to Deb, Mark, Josephine (my bike), and my ego. I spent all of Monday grumpy. I ended my soccer practice early that afternoon so that I could get home and go help coach Mark's first soccer practice (which he would be watching from the sideline). I get home at 5:45. Deb has planned a party at 6:00 in honor of the German exchange student we are currently hosting. Strangely enough, Deb is not there. I find my 13-year-old daughter, Layne, in the kitchen preparing for the party. She is in the middle of making sandwiches and in a very calm state of near-panic (yes, that made sense in my mind) as she tries to get the entire party ready in 15 minutes. I ask how I can help, and she puts me to work. Soon one of her friends arrives, and Layne puts her to work too. The one bright spot in this whole weekend was watching Layne take charge. She really has the kind of leadership skills I don't have. She stayed calm, prioritized the work, delegated responsibilities to others, trusted them to do their jobs well, and got things done efficiently. In those 15 minutes, she made enough sandwiches to feed the guests, prepared decorative serving bowls of finger foods and snacks, and even prepared an apple pie and got it baking in the oven. This just confirms two things I keep saying on this blog - Teenagers are Awesome! and My Daughter is One of My Favorite People in the World! In the end, the party started at 6:00 and Deb got home at 6:15. Such is DC traffic! Because of Layne, though, the party was a success. I, personally, was ridiculously stressed out by the whole situation, but Layne took it in stride and just got the job done.

So, with all this going on, I am of course responding in the most mature of all possible ways - by whining on my Facebook status. An old friend from high school posts a response which helps me think about perspective - that there are millions of people out there with real problems who would dream of having the problems I have. Still today, though, I find myself whining about all the problems of the last few days. Then tonight, the phone rang and perspective was on the other end of the line. The mother of one of my advisee's was calling to let me know that the older brother of a friend of his had been found dead in his college dorm room this afternoon. She wanted me to know so that I could check up on her son/my advisee as he handled this news. Long story short - he and his classmates who knew the boy are handling it very well. They are shaken but doing a very good job of supporting each other. Have I mentioned lately that Teenagers are Awesome! Now that I've checked in on them, I get to start trying to process the news myself.

I have to be very careful what I say here because there are so many privacy laws (and there should be!) and I know more than I should say in public. The best I can say here is that I had a strange special bond with the boy who died today. I can't say why, but I definitely felt that bond. It's interesting the kids that you really feel connected to over the years, like the one I mentioned in my 9/11 post. This was a very different bond, but one that actually meant more to me than I realized. Because of that bond, this boy's death is a real failure for me. It is part of a doctor's training to deal with the fact that she can't save every life - some patients will die. Similarly, teachers know that they can't turn every student into the kind of mature, healthy adult who loves our subject best that we want them to be. Death isn't supposed to be part of the picture, though. We don't deal with those kinds of things. This is a case, though, where I can't help wondering if we couldn't have done more.

In the end, I have to look at the events of the last few days with a healthy perspective, but that's hard to do until you can find a little bit of emotional detachment. I've been complaining about traffic and broken bike spokes while at the same time kids have been dying. Perspective works both ways, though. While it helps me to realize how minor my problems have been and how great my life is, it also cushions me and protects me from the pain of the bigger problems. While I can't help but wonder if we could have done more to help this young man, I need to realize that his problems were beyond what we could handle. We did everything we could to help, and I know many others did too, but in the end, it just wasn't possible to do enough. This student's death was a tragedy and there is nobody to blame. As much as those of us who live comfortable lives in affluent nations like to think we are in control, in the end we aren't. Some things are too big for us to control or avoid. We just need to keep doing the best we can and helping each other through this life. There will always be tragedies, but there is so much more beauty and good in the world. We can't stop working to avoid the tragedies as best we can, but we also can't lose perspective.

I think I'll go watch my son sleep for a few minutes before I go to bed.

Remembering...

Somehow I feel like I have to post a 9/11 blog today, even though I am only an occasional blogger. This has been a strange day in several ways. I'm never sure what is the best way to honor the innocent people who lost their lives to terrorists, and a big part of me thinks the best way is to go about our lives just like normal. Terrorism is all about fear. As awful as the loss of nearly 3000 lives at once was 10 years ago, that is a drop in the bucket in terms of the US population. Terrorism is not about defeating us, it is about causing fear. In a lot of ways, today was a completely unremarkable day. We slept in a little bit, went for a bike ride to visit Art on the Avenue (or whatever it is called), had leftovers for lunch, enjoyed dinner at an outdoor table at Guapo's, and canned 12 pints of ridiculously tasty apple pie filling that we can pull out throughout the winter whenever we want a typically American treat. 

I think back 10 years to the day the terrorists struck. I was a new teacher at Episcopal. Some of the details are cloudy, but I remember my students coming into class talking about a plane hitting the World Trade Center. We turned on the TV in the classroom to see what was going on, and ended up watching the second tower struck live on TV. We were all stunned, but still naively in denial. At the end of that class I had a free period, and by then the reality was setting in. The Pentagon had been hit, and in some parts of the campus you could see the smoke rising. Because I was free that period, I was assigned a student whose father could have been affected. I am still impressed with how quickly Episcopal identified the students who might have parents in jeopardy. My student's father worked for one of the three big networks' news agencies in the Pentagon, so he was understandably not answering his phone. Normally he worked in the part of the building that was directly his by the plane, but fortunately, with the renovations they were doing, he was not there at the time. We were finally able to get in touch with him and assure the student that his father was okay. I think that was more of a relief to me than to him, because he still had enough 14-year-old "my dad is invincible" attitude to reach a healthy level of denial. Over the next few years before this student graduated from Episcopal, we developed a very good, although maybe quirky, relationship. We are currently Facebook friends and I love watching what he is doing now that he is fully an adult by any measure. He is already a far better man than I will ever be, and although he probably does not even remember that day the way I do, it will always mean a lot to me that we have that extra connection from 9/11/01.

What did I do today to commemorate 9/11/01? Pretty much nothing, and I can't think of a better tribute to the people who put their lives on the line every day to make sure that I can do just that! I owe a huge thank you to the police officers, fire fighters, and members of the armed forces who have devoted all or even a part of their lives to protect my freedom and safety, not just because they did so on 9/11/01, but because they do so every day of every year. For them, there was nothing special about that day - they just happened to be on duty. That is what makes ALL of them so courageous and heroic.