Let Life Teach
December 7, 2012
Here’s a golden nugget from Ann Arbor’s Dr. Dan Saferstein’s little book, Win or Lose: A Guide to Sports Parenting:
“Most of us have an easier time being math parents than we do being sports parents. We don’t stand over our children as they’re doing their homework, hollering at them to round to the highest decimal or carry their zero. We trust that they’ll be able to figure things out on their own, and if they can’t, they’ll get the help they need from their teachers or by asking us.
“What a lot of sports parents seem to forget is that young athletes also need the same space to figure things out on their own. They need to learn how to think and make decisions during game situations, which isn’t easy to do when your parent (or someone else’s parent) is shouting out directions.
“The reality is that if your child could score a goal or stop a defender, he would. In most cases, telling your child to move faster to the ball is like telling him to be taller. Effort isn’t the only critical factor in sports, or in math. Some children will never be high-level athletes no matter how hard they try, which is by no means a tragedy. The world doesn’t necessarily need more gymnastics, softball or soccer stars. It needs more young people who are willing to try and make our world a better place.”
Go to dansaferstein.com for more good stuff from the good doctor.
Swimming Lessons
January 19, 2016
I found a place between Christmas and New Year’s Day that was out of Internet reach. For four days and three nights I spent most of the days in the water looking downward into an ocean of coral canyons surrounded by swarms of colorful fish, and much of the nights on the open deck of a catamaran looking up at a nearly full moon moving between stars and swirling clouds. Here is some of what I learned from experiences, rather than from Google, on those days.
First, flying fish really do fly, on average, about the length of a football field.
Second, sea urchins have an edible element, if the spiny critters are smoked in a fire of coconuts and palm fronds and then soaked in saltwater, and if you are either desperately marooned on some remote island or just trying to be nice to the local residents you just met who believe the urchin's slimy, salty core is a delicacy that hospitality requires be shared and graciousness demands be appreciated.
And, more relevant to the work we share that I tried unsuccessfully to tune out for these four days, I learned ...
What you see in the ocean is distorted until you put on your goggles and get beneath the surface of the water. Getting beneath the surface of things is necessary for clear vision.
What you see first is likely to be the flashy fish, while the greater significance is observed more slowly in what appears to be their inanimate habitats, which turn out to be alive with movement if you wait and watch for it. Patience is necessary for clear vision.
The wavy six-inch line of purple coral was really the lips of a large clam that actually separate a fraction of an inch every minute or so to take in the nourishment of the sea. The brown stump below it was really a sea cucumber that actually moves an inch or two a day to vacuum the ocean floor. I saw none of this until I got beneath the surface, and waited.