Showing posts with label High School. Show all posts
Showing posts with label High School. Show all posts

Wednesday, November 13, 2013

Life Lessons Learned on a Football Field

Before the start of each game, the captains walk
out to meet the opposing team's captain for the coin toss.
These young men are selected based on their leadership.
Friday night was the last high school football game of the season, and for many of the athletes it was the last game of their lives.  Sure, there will be pick up games, but that night was the last night many of them will ever suit up in full gear and play with those teammates.  There are always a lot of emotions when a sport season comes to an end for any athlete.  Each season bonds are forged, goals are set and hopefully accomplished, and a lot of personal growth takes place.  After the final game there is a spectrum of emotions that both athletes and parents feel as they process the finality of it all.  These past few days we have felt all these things.

Something happened after the game Friday night that was so moving, even at that moment it felt as if I were watching a sacred event unfold before my eyes.  To fully understand the meaning a little context is required.  All season long, the parents would wait until the teams congratulated each other before walking down to the field.  We would all congregate around our team huddle and wait for the boys to lift their fists and say something in unity before they turned and walked over to us.  Friday night was different, and for more reasons than the loss.  That night marked the end, and witnessing it felt like watching a sacred event. 

Personally, I was not caught up in the emotions that many of the parents experienced.  This is Jack’s first and last season, so we didn’t have as much invested as other parents.  Many of these families have been together for years.  In a way that gave me a somewhat impartial eye to witness the events unfold.  When the boys gathered into their last team huddle they stood motionless.  I suspect the coaches helped the young men shift their thinking from the loss to what they achieved and possibly they told them how proud they are of each of them.  The talk ended but the young men were not ready to take the next step.  They stood motionless for a few moments, a few long moments.  Then slowly they turned to each other and started hugging, sharing words and for some, openly crying.  Yet, as they did this, none of them turned around.  None.  It was clear that not one of them was ready for the moment to end.  Slowly, they moved around this nucleus with a chasm between them and us.  Keeping their backs to us – their family and friends – the young men continued to support each other and stretch that last moment.  Finally, one by one they broke the bond holding them together, and turned to face us parents.  Like I said earlier, it was like witnessing a sacred moment up close. 

I believe each one of the young men experienced a lot that night.  The seniors crossed the threshold of an important milestone.  For some, football is their identity, the core of who they are: a teammate, an athlete, and a leader.  Those seniors knew the moment they turned to face us parents and friends, it would be the first step into a new, possibly undefined part of their senior year.  It was their first major “last” event during this senior year.  There are some who will transition into other sports or activities, but that too is a giant step away from their identity as a football player.  I suspect many of the young men have been playing since elementary school, and this marked the last time they will don the armor of the game. 

As the young men broke away from each other, some shed tears while others held back but one thing was obvious, there was a lot of emotion down on that field.  When the coaches turned away from the huddle, some stopped to talk with parents while others busied themselves with the task of packing up.  Regardless, I could see in everyone’s eyes and body language that the coaches too were processing the end of a wonderful season but through the lens of a final loss.  Each will move at their own pace to the point where the beauty of this season is a stronger memory than that last loss.

Through the coaching staff’s commitment, these young men learned more than good techniques and strategies – they learned more than lessons associated with setting goals and working to achieve them.  We know they will all face different obstacles in life, but the skills learned during practice, games and that last huddle will help them find the strength and desire to move forward and overcome whatever challenge they face. 

This season was meaningful.  For that to occur, I recognize that the coaching staff has orchestrated something that doesn’t show up in the win-loss column.  The closeness of these young men speaks volumes toward the healthy attitudes and relationships amongst the team.  But the season was meaningful for more than those with uniforms, it was meaningful for the parents and the student body as well.  Am I happy that the team had a winning season?  Sure.  Do I appreciate how connected these young men are and how much they have grown on and off the field?  Absolutely.  That is the meaningful part, and the piece that will stay with them for the rest of their lives.  And for that I want to thank everyone on the coaching staff.  It was a beautiful season.


Wednesday, December 12, 2012

A Mother Can Only Be as Happy as...

When my children were all small a very insightful mom told me "a mother can only be as happy as her least happiest child."  This wise mother is John's cousin Jane.  Her boys were in high school and college at the time, and she was staying in Portland because one of her boys was hospitalized here.  That phrase has stayed with me over these years and when things get rough with raising teens, I often reflect back on it.

Six weeks ago Jack was diagnosed with mono.  Certainly not a terminal disease, but one that has brought a lot of stress into our lives.  Although Jack is through with the acute phase of mono, he relapsed and the fatigue drags on as the homework assignments pile up.  Additionally, he does not intrinsically want to eat.  He lost twenty pounds in the first couple of weeks as he had no appetite and it hurt to swallow, so he didn't.  He is slowly putting some meat back on his bones, but it takes reminding and planning.

Jack is a Junior in high school and carries a pretty strenuous class load.  He has three college level classes, two math classes and a foreign language which is much more academic rigor then I ever took!  Now, did I mention he hasn't been in school for the past six weeks and it doesn't look like he is going back any time soon?  Between this and the weight loss, much of what I do revolves around mono.

These last few days I have wrestled with some different strategies for getting Jack caught up before the end of the semester (which is only 21 school days away).  John and I thought that between both our gifts and talents we should be able to teach several of these content areas to Jack and get him caught up.  But did you know that people with mono aren't awake for long periods of time?  Jack can sleep for 14-16 hours straight, be awake for four or five hours, then sleep for another ten hours straight.  It is much easier to figure out a strategy to help him gain back some weight then it is to catch up on the school work!

As I mentioned earlier, I have wrestled with some different educational strategies.  One that was suggested was a getting a Home Teacher from the school district.  It sounds simple on the surface - the student has been out of school for the most part for six weeks so he should qualify for this service.  But, this brings about a boat load of questions for me: How will this look on his college transcript? Will he still be eligible to play basketball once he is healthy? Will they teach the same classes or minimize his current schedule?  Who will issue the grade - the Home Teacher or school teacher?  Now I am sure some of you paused when you read the word basketball, but that is an intergal part of my struggle.  It would be easy for me to tell him "we need to focus on academics and not worry about sports" - but I know basketball is a very strong motivator for Jack.  So on the surface this strategy sounds simple, but the more I think about it, the more complicated it is.  Hence, I have been wrestling with this decision.

So reflecting back on what Jane said so many years ago, I now understand her meaning.  Although Jack is not technically unhappy (tired, and at times crabby), the mono has brought about some parenting stress.  I plan his meals, monitor his caloric intake, call the school everyday, email all his teachers, plan with Jack what one class he can manage to go to the next day, work with him during his peak time to get some work done, triage with Jack and John the assignments, and more.  It is hard to find happiness when juggling all these things and when I look at him I know I am shouldering more of the stress in this situation.  I guess that goes with the parenting role, and what Jane said, "a mother can only be as happy as her least happiest child." 

All three kids - happy at the same time - make for a happy mama.
I pray when this chapter has past I can look back and know I made the right choice.  I signed the paper today that will hopefully bring us help as we dig out of this hole I shall name "the mono pit."  I pray it does not have a negative impact on his ability to play basketball when he is healthy or longer term consequences on his final transcript.  I pray he regains his health soon and is able to return to school full time.  I pray for patience as I seem to have run out.  Most of all, I pray that each of my children will be happy and healthy at the same time, so this mama may also be happy.