World Views and Kids in Cages

I saw someone'd posted this on Facebook earlier today.

I read over it a few times. It sounded like something the good scientist says and I thought it all too true; I liked it and wished it to be true but the "pundits tells" grammatical error was enough to get me to wondering about it. I clicked to see the original post but still wasn't satisfied so off to the googles. First hit was Tyson's Twitter feed and okay, there it is. It's real.

So there ya go. I went back to where I saw it on FB and showed my agreement by clicking like. For reasons I wont' go into I'm just funny that way. I can't click like and certainly can't bring myself to share something unless danged sure that it's true. So I found proof that this'ns real, that Tyson actually wrote the words, only to start wondering something else about it.  

He writes "and you don't have the critical thinking skills", but I think the root of the problem goes far deeper. Not having the critical thinking skills is one thing, being too lazy or biased or both to check lest the Truth disprove your preconceived notions is another. No doubt some pundits know this and use that to their advantage. They keep telling their audience what they want to hear "you good, them evil" fully aware that by doing so they'll keep coming back for more. More viewers means more advertising bucks. Ah there it is. Funny how it always comes back to worshipping that golden calf though isn't it.

Worse yet is those who purposely set aside their critical thinking skills because they're so biased, so terrified with the thought that beliefs they've held for years if not decades might be wrong, that they won't even allow the possibility of being wrong to enter their minds. You can supply them with incontrovertible proof, you can beat them over the head with it, and still they remain seemingly incapable of accepting something other than that which they wish to be true. 

This is exactly why debating politics with some people's about as productive as screaming at the wall. This is especially true of debating politics online. They're safe in their bubble. No amount of proof or logical argument will get them to change.

So this is where we're at. Millions upon millions of people are putty in pundits' hands. Their world views are being collectively shaped accordingly and it's gone from bad to worse to un-freak'n-believably disgusting.

"Therefore, whoever takes the lowly position of this child is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven"

We've arrived at a point at which the racist so-called leader of the USA is tearing apart families. And if this is Clinton or Obama's fault then how come President Obama, Clinton or even Bush never tore apart families? This is Trump's policy and he's the one doing it. He could stop it if he wanted to but hey, it's not like they're white people with money is it! Remember these are animals to him. He started it and he doesn't want to stop it. And the pundits who control the minority of Americans who support him are doing all they can to get them to rationalize it. Fox news tells them that children locked up and sleeping alone in a strange place after being forcibly removed from their mothers--children with no idea if or when they'll ever see their families again--are just like kids at summer camp. I wonder what it takes to believe such heartless blather? I wonder if it even possible to believe while listening to the cries of those children?

How anyone can rationalize taking babies, toddlers, or kids of any age from their mothers' arms is beyond me. Again, this never was and is not because of any previous presidents, their policies or administrations. This is the decision and actions and policy of the current administration. Trump is tearing apart families and locking up children in internment camps. Every single living First Lady has spoken out against it. There's a certain air of Executive Order 9066 to it all, only "illegals" somehow makes it okay now I guess. It's being compared to just that only one actually locked up in a Japanese internment camp makes a pretty solid argument for why this is even worse.

As the father of three and teacher of a good hundred kids ranging from toddlers to middle school age on any given week I've learned a bit about kids. Over nearly two decades of teaching I've gotten pretty good at spotting a kid with emotional problems. I've nailed it more than a few times--I've told my wife "Something's going on with that kid" after seeing a big swing in behavior only to later learn of an abusive father in once instance or divorce or other problems in a more than a few others. Kids are resilient but some things scar for life. I can't even begin to imagine what kind of emotional scars this policy is purposely leaving on those kids. It's child abuse being inflicted on a broad scale by my government. Period.

Thus once again, with Dr. MLK's "There comes a time when silence is betrayal" comes forefront in my mind.

I've got kids. I teach kids. I like kids. I can make friends with a kid in a skinny second. I just walk up and start playing whatever they're playing or doing what they're doing. Say something. Laugh. It's easy. 

 

The champion of human rights also said:

"In the end we'll remember not the words of our enemies but the silence of our friends."

Kids are my friends. 

I can't be silent on this one. This shit's gotta end yesterday!

World Famous Camp Fuji Mud Run

A Tale of Perseverance

Me and the younger boy ran in the USMC’s World Famous Camp Fuji Mud Run the other day. It was my second year doing it after running it with both boys last year.

2017 Mud Run younger boy chasing his big bro to the finish

They had a way better showing at it than I did last year, both of them finishing in the top ten places. First mud run and all, having no idea what to expect, I imagined five straight kilometers of nothing but mud and obstacles so I wore my five finger Vibram shoes. Rookie move! I can hike all day in those things--summited Fuji in them even--but running on level ground's another story and there was a lot more of that than I thought there’d be. Duh! My calves cramped up so bad it was all I could do to push myself to the finish line. This year I opted for a pair of Solomon trail running shoes and my feet and legs fared much better. 

My goal in doing it is to match or better the old me. I'm not much of a runner and know there’s no way in hell I’ll beat a 20 something runner even if I was so they’re not in my bracket.  If I beat the old me I win. That’s the point I’ve arrived at at pushing 52. The kids have other goals however.

I don’t know how long they’ve been holding this event. It’s held every June, which’s good for a mud run since June’s the rainy season in these parts. As said the boys did great last year. It was an exciting dad moment seeing them nearly neck and neck near the finish, little bro on big bro’s heels. This year the big bro opted out so it was just me and the younger boy, along with my sis-in-law and two nephews.

2018 Mud Run me

Constant rain the night before had given us the perfect mud run course. I did better than before but was still hurting by the end. I never was much for running unless there was a good reason to do so, such as training for wrestling or later full contact karate tourney or if being chased by a big dog or the like. Still it’s good healthy not so clean fun and I love the running through mud, crawling under nets, going through muddy concrete pipes or scaling walls jumping down into mud pits parts. The long stretches of running not so much. I did beat the old me by quite a few minutes but ended with scraped up knees and legs hurting by the time I crossed the finish. Then came the kids mile race.

2017 Mud Run older boy

The boys kinda surprised me the year before, both finishing near the front of the pack. The oldest was way too fun to watch the kid's fearless jumping off the hills into the muddy water. Much like myself he loves the mud part but isn't much for all the running so he decided not to do it this year. His little bro's been getting faster since joining a local running club though so he was just itching to get a trophy, which are awarded up through third.

He started off around the middle of the pack and moved up fast (two age groups 5-8 and 9-14 all start together). Wet grass turned to mud as they approached the low crawl nets that exited into muddy water, a muddy mound of dirt to go over then more mud, another mound, more nets, more water, more mud—the beginning leaves you a running muddy mess. There are big mud-filled concrete pipes to crawl through then some obstacles to go over, I’d cut across the middle of the course trying to keep an eye on him only to feel a jolt of excitement upon seeing that bright neon yellow shirt clad kid off in the distance holding a strong third. 

About 100 meters into the race, bright yellow shirt-clad younger boy'd made it from about 20th to 10th place 

The next best view was at the track trails so I took off in the other direction back across the center of the course to try to find a position where I could see him at the muddy mounds and water pits (about five of these in track trails) leg of the course. My oldest boy joined me we waited behind tall grass and saw the leader go over—teenage kid no doubt he was the clear winner, then another bigger kid and then...  Whoa the boy's holding third!

"Dude you’ve got this!" I screamed. I could already imagine him holding the trophy until...

In English the proverb goes:

 “Don’t count your chickens before they hatch”

Same proverb in Japanese goes: 捕らぬ狸の皮算用　

“Toranu tanuki no kawa zan’yo” — Don’t count the raccoon skins before you catch them.

I don’t know if he saw himself holding that third place trophy like I did--I had a whole coop full-o-chickens and a bag of raccoon skins already.  I so wanted to see him get that trophy only to see the eggs smash and raccoons scatter. He hit a bad spot second or third step into the muddy water and took a nose dive at full stride. The tall grass blocked my view of his landing but it was clear he hit hard and went under, and muddy as it was “under” was rocky and hard. 

track trails 

The oldest boy—making me proud by excitedly cheering on the little bro he fights like hell with other times—he and I ran down to where the runners climb the last big muddy hill to exit the track trails. The leader passed, then the next kid, then the kid who’d been about 10 meters behind my boy. I looked at my oldest boy while fighting the thought of his little bro still sitting there in the muddy water as other kids raced past or maybe just up and limping, fighting back the tears.  It was a helluva crash no way I'd be up and running yet if it'd have been me.

But not him! As the kid who’d been behind him was nearing the top that bright neon yellow shirt-clad kid turned the corner and started up the hill. I could see he was hurting bad but he was still moving. We cheered like hell! As he neared the top another kid turned the corner and was moving fast. Trophy’s gone so be it. Fourth is a helluva good show.  “Push it dude!"  One more muddy mound to go over, muddy pit of water to go through, nets to go under then final muddy area turning to grass sprint to the end.  The kid behind him had closed the gap by the time they got to the nets keep pushing dude, my boy was clearly hurting but still moving--under the first, under the second, kid literally on his heels now under the final net then… Whoa! 

He hit his runners stride and that threat coming up from the rear was no more.  I forgot about the pain in my own legs as his big bro and I sprinted to meet him on the other side of the finish line. Fourth place out of a whole gaggle of kids. Great! Getting up and not quitting after a huge crash and burn like that. Freak’n Awesome! 

It was fathers day. I’m proud of all my kids. They add so much to the bliss that's come to me in this life thing. Never did I imagine raising three, let alone doing it in a foreign land. There's nothing easy about it, but times like this definitely outweigh the times I'm pulling what's left of my hair out feeling like I'm blowing it. I love seeing them win or bring home tests with 100% or the like. What parent doesn't! But stuff like this--seeing them get knocked down by life only to get up and keep giving it hell. That's golden. The boy fell. He fell hard. Wet and muddy, skinned up a bit and hurting, he got up and pushed on.
He didn't quit.
"If at first you don't succeed, try, try again" Goes the saying in English. 
七転び八起き Nanakorobi Yaoki -- "Fall down seven times get up eight" In Japanese. 
That's what he did and that, as I later told him, will serve him well for the rest of his life. 

As always with trips to Camp Fuji we all then enjoyed some good ol American burgers (me a big beef brisket sandwich) and pizza, got a few American goodies from the commissary, checked out some of the cool military vehicles, and talked with some of our nation’s great servicewomen and men. The boy was laughing and in good spirits by the time we were washing the mud off at the fire engine. By then he’d already begun saying “Trophy next year”.  That’s right bitches. We’ll be back!” To which I reminded him he’s only ten so he’s got four more chances at that trophy. I think the excitement got his big bro wanting to do  again next year too. Way too good! 

cleaning up

Still I couldn’t stop thinking about how bad he'd wanted that trophy, then back at home the thought hit me. A while back the wind'd blown the curtain and knocked that trophy I’d won at a karate kata tournament some years ago off the shelf. Plastic trophies break easily. No big just put the little man on top of the base and toss the rest. Or not? Not. Packrat me just couldn't throw away those shiny gold colored plastic pieces. I heard an "Ah-HA!" in my mind upon spying them once home.  Aching muscles or no aching muscles that kid is getting a trophy dang it! Everyone knows I’m always pulling out the tools to repair something so nobody thought much when I did it then. A piece of wood here, a salvaged old piece of karate trophy there, print out a running man and scribe to plywood, cut with jigsaw, paint and glue and print out a little sign and Whala! 

After Father’s Day dinner of USMC Camp Fuji take out pizza I presented the boy with the little known very prestigious World Famous Camp Fuji Mud Run Perseverance Award.  
He was all smiles. Okay, now things are right. 

Again next year? You bet! I ain't getting no younger, gotta keep moving! Plus my wife agreed to do the mile run with our will be old enough to join next June youngest girl child, the big bro kid said he may give'r another go too and I think it safe to assume that middle boy will be wanting that trophy more'n ever come then then so... 

We’ll be back! 

My Bliss

Izu Nature

Thank you Mr. (Mrs?)　ハクビシン (Hakubishin) for reminding me of my plan to start an Izu Nature blog entry.  It reminded me as I was driving home from my last class of the night in Numazu earlier.  Early June brings the rainy season. I love seeing the flooded rice fields with newly planted rice this time of year. If you're lucky you can catch one on a clear day with a perfect reflection of Mt. Fuji in it even.


The nearby Kano River occasionally grows closer to its banks during the rainy season as well. Having grown up with a dad who'd pay a quarter for spotting a squirrel on a fence post I always keep my eyes open for anything moving on the side of the road and have had some luck spotting critters after dark. More'n a few times I've pulled off on a narrow road between fields and hopped out of the car with a kid or two to look for whatever it was we caught a glimpse of scampering away as we drove past.  I was alone tonight with nowhere to hang a U turn for a good 100 meters else I'd have tried to get another look at it.  Hakubishin is a masked palm civit. I never even knew what a civit was till seeing one crawling on power lines overhead after exiting my in-laws' house one night. My wife told that they'd once gotten in a neighbors attic and camped out there for some time before being detected. Apparently they make quite a mess of things.

It was directly over the road between the neighboring Hamayu Hotel and my in-laws' neighbors house when I spotted it. By the time I got my iPhone out of my pocket it was making a dive for the trees. It's amazing how fast those things crawl across cables for as big as they are.

And so now that I've begun this entry here are a couple more Izu-dwelling critters that I've crossed paths with recently.  I'll add to this periodically as I search the files for pictures I've taken to help me recall what I met and where.

Due to a change in dad/teacher schedule and son now junior high kid schedule I've had to switch up my Monday night workout routine. It used to be karate practice at a dojo in Numazu. Now it's home workout on the heavy bag and kata or makiwara at home along with a night run on the riverbank. I've really come to enjoy the latter. It's so peaceful, so pretty, so empty of other people (always a nice thing in densely populated Japan). I guess the mostly aging population has either already turned in or is too  wary of meeting a wild critter if they walk along the riverbank at night. Not me! Not ME! I love meeting a critter. Hello critter! Nice to meet you!

Such was the case a couple of weeks ago. I was slow with the iPhone again dang it, even slower than I was with the Hakubishin. Actually I stopped dead in my tracks and admired these two ever so cool critters for a few seconds after they froze in the beam of my headlamp before even thinking to try to get a shot of them. At first I thought it was just cats but Whoa lookit those tails! I'll be danged if those ain't itachi! My son told of seeing one down that way in the daytime once and he knows his critters pretty well and doesn't yank my chain about stuff like that so I knew they're around, but had yet to see one for myself. But there they were--cutest couple o varmints ya ever saw out for an evening stroll.

You'll have to take my word for it since the picture is crap. Behold, the infamous Japanese weasel. 

One week later another Monday night run, this time further down the river I thought I saw a rat or something run under a rock--just caught a glimpse out of the corner of my eye as I was running by, again at night with headlamp. So I stopped and aimed the light down at the rock only to see and Holy Shmoly! That ain't no rock! And that ain't no rat. That was something pulling its foot in under its shell!  I've seen one out sunbathing on a rock in the middle of the river closer to our home lately but this was the first time to see one up close and get to handle it. It's a suppon.
A Chinese soft-shelled turtle.

I've both read and heard that they can remove a finger, or a good chunk of one at least, with that funky little head of theirs so was careful to keep all my digits away from it's beak while handling it. I've shown this shot to adult students I teach since and many have told me I should've taken it to a restaurant and sold it. Apparently turtle soup is quite the delicacy for some in these parts. I also read that although an invasive species at one time the ones here in Japan are now a different species than their Chinese cousins, which if I'm not mistaken would be a textbook case of divergent evolution. Either way as a stranger who arrived in this strange land myself I figured I'm about as invasive of a species as a species can get so I let the ol dude go it's merry way and I went my own.

Then there was that time that an アナグマ (Anaguma) Japanese badger came to our door, or danged close to it at least. That was rainy season early or mid-June too a day after a huge downpour, which I imagined was the reason why this thing left its hole or hillside home of whatever sort and found its way to our house.  My younger boy yelled for me I got one look at it at the end of our driveway and ran for the camera. I'd already convinced myself that it was a tanuki Japanese raccoon dog so total know-your-nature fail didn't put two and two together (raccoons don't have huge claws) till viewing video afterwards.  The thing was I didn't even know there were badgers around here.  I can assure you I know now.

Anyhow so there it was at driveway's edge

 Only to turn and walk up past the cars then come near our front door

 Only to turn again and try to hide under our Honda hybrid before making its way through the neighbors yard to a covered sunken concrete drainage ditch where we tossed him a piece of fruit and wished him a safe trek back to the nearby hills.  For the full excitement shaky video of this'n click here.

We've had some other interesting guests stop by, all of the smaller variety bugs and frogs and snakes and such.  Oh yeah, and bats. Just about every summer I'll find one hanging out or near our house somewhere.  Like this one that I caught napping on the leg of the narrow deck behind our house.

One summer's day I even rousted a baby one, or perhaps a bat-kid is more apt, that was hiding out between our barbecue and the wall of the house. That'n was too weak or scared to fly we put it in a bug box then later set it out on the deck come evening time and as far as I know it found it's way back to the bat cave, or wherever it is bats in these parts go besides our house.

I'll tell more about reptiles and the gazillion or so insects (many as large as the bat there) another time. As for other larger critters hereabouts I mentioned the deer in my Banzaburo dake hiking tale and while bears are here on Honshu I've never heard of any here on Izu, but there is one last critter I've seen when hiking in the nearby hills. That critter is a tasty one too! It's the inoshishi   wild boar.  The ones here are smaller than their California cousins but just as yummy. Here are a couple I've gotten decent shots of over the years, both times while hiking the Numazu Alps.

運動会 Sports Day in Japan

Elementary school Sports Day

 Sports Day is a thing in Japan. It’s a big thing. The original, official Sports Day is held on the second Monday of October. It’s called 体育の日 Taiku no hi. I don’t know how long it’s been going on, only that it commemorates the opening of the 1964 Summer Olympics in Tokyo.

Kindergarten Sports Day

 It’s the other kind of sports day though, the Undokai ones, that we're talking here.

Undokai 運動会 is what they call community/neighborhood or school sports days. Literally that's not even sports day. Literally that's “Field day”, but everyone calls them Sports Day in English just the same. Up till a few years back they were all held around the same time as Taiku-no-hi in fall, but recently more and more are being held in June instead. 

I’m not exactly sure why the change but have guessed weather maybe, since it’s cooler in June and sports days are far less likely to be demolished by typhoons then, or maybe they’re just shifting some of them to make it easier for parents like us—parents with three kids. I kinda doubt that’s why though since a family with three kids is a bit of a rarity in Japan nowadays, but no matter the reason I’m happy that they spread em out a little. This year and next we’ve got a kid in nursery school, one in elementary school sand another in junior high so we’ve gotta hit three a year, which'd be tough to do all in the same month.  Anyhow today was our first Undokai of 2018. Today was the younger boy child's sports day. The one for the nursery school girl kid is next weekend. The oldest boy’s junior high school one isn’t until September, so we’ll get a little break in there to catch our breaths.

Just about every school that I know of or taught at or have heard of and no doubt a few gazillion more that I haven’t here has Undokai Sports Days too. And like said then there are the community ones or neighborhood Sports Days. In the small town that I live in there are at least a few. There used to be one for my little neighborhood of Kakisawadai, but they stopped holding it some years back, or so older residents of this hood tell me. 

There are all kinds of running events and ball throwing games or events where a bunch of people race while rolling a huge ball around some cones or a line of people run side by side with a long length of bamboo down around a cone and back, other events like a three legged race only with up to 30 kids with legs tied together (in middle schools) and all kinds of other stuff. Oh yes, and all the school ones have what I’ve come to refer to as feats of strength events as well. Older kids shed their shoes for those. They make pyramids or do back bridges, groups of kids threes or fours or fives climb upon one another to demonstrate their strength and balance. It’s fun. 

 





It all takes place on a ground that is ground. No soft grass. It’s volcanic sand here on Izu. People sit under tents or out in the glaring sun, eat their lunches and watch the kids at school sports days or participate in the events at the community ones. There are huge speakers over the ground that blare distorted music at eardrum shattering decibels. Whatever you do, do not sit below the speakers!

I was at a total loss when first asked to attend a neighborhood Sports Day soon after arriving in small town Japan—so soon I was still a bit like a cat in the middle of a busy freeway. Like with everything else in that first week or two I understood little about where we were going, what best to wear or take or the like. “Sports day” was all I got in English. Okay so I can skip the tie then right? I ended up going in a polo shirt, my nicest pair of shorts (the nicer of the two pair I packed) and running shoes. Nowadays I go in old nylon running pants and a light T-shirt.  Upon arriving at that first one I was asked to participate in the relay race. I was nervous as hell. I warmed up feeling like I’d returned to my days of wrestling. Gotta break a sweat. Gotta break a sweat! I ran as fast as I could and while not a runner my adrenaline kicked in enough to make me later realize I might’ve taken this neighborhood fun event a little too seriously. 

This is kinda an aside but one other branded into my mind first sports day memory for all time is of Mr. Yamada, my original home stay family dude here, calling out to me to meet some people. I was sitting under the tent watching sports day when he called out to me from about ten meters away “Mr. Henry”.  “Hai” I replied bolting straight up to attention only to see him do his little “Down, down. Sit down!” gesture. So I slowly sat down as he turned to talk with the people he was talking with, only for him to call out to me again “Mr. Henry!” . Me shoot up to attention “Hai!” and repeat the little dance all over again a good fifty times or better (i.e. probably three after subtracting 47 for my exaggerated memory).  The thing was, what sure looked to me like a “sit down” gesture, was in fact the Japanese “come here” gesture. In America that gesture is hand facing palm up arm stretched out in front of you waving your whole arm towards your face “Come’mere!” right? Well in Japan it’s arm straight out in front with palm down moving hand up and down at the wrist, which sure as hell looked like “down boy down!” to me first time I saw it!  And the second time. And the third… Thus his calling my name. My bolting to attention. His gesturing. My slowly and confusedly sitting down. And repeat. Welcome to Japan. Everything is different now. 

But gestures East and West are another story. Back to sports day.

With completion of the younger boy’s today we’ve got one more under our belt. I tried doing the math in my head… How many have I been too now? There were a good half dozen or more my first few years here. Add those to all I’ve been to since the first one for the oldest boy when he was in kindergarten should come to thirteen, add six and round up for one I missed let’s say today was an even twenty. And what the heck might’s well add another 80 for over exaggerated memory and make it an even 100. How ever many it is, it’s been a lot and there’re a lot more in our future so think it safe to say I’ll be fully sports day acculturated by the time we’re watching the last one for the girl child.

It’s okay though. I could watch the running races, especially if it's a good close relay, for forever and a day. Events like those are downright exciting and then some. More’n a few times I’ve wished their school sports here were more like how we do em in the States, especially elementary school sports like we’ve got at CUSD. That’s definitely something I miss. That said I think America would do well to adopt the Japanese sports day idea too. The team work and every kid participates is good all around. There’s that for learning to work together, strong kids and weaker kids alike, and of course there’s the crowd pleasing cheer your brains out events too. Like the relays and 100 meter dash—six kids lined up side by side gun fires they bolt around half the track to the finish line. Exciting stuff! No trophies or big prizes but like with the 100 meter dash when kids cross the finish line they’re grabbed by a fellow student and placed in the respective lines for first through 6th place. A fuzzy little quarter-sized sticker is placed on the shoulder of their short sleeve shirt—different colors for each place.

 One of my favorite photos of the oldest boy kid is one of second grader him peeking under his right hand, which was reached across his body to his left shoulder with fingers cupped around the valuable first place sticker. After peeking the hand went back to tightly holding the sticker in place. First place baby! That kid can be as competitive as hell. 

That was me with wrestling as a kid. The other boy kid of ours—today’s sports day boy—just doesn’t seem to have it in him, at least not yet, like the older boy and I do. At least it’s not constant. It’s come out in him a few times this far along in his kid life. Like when he was fighting in a full contact karate tourney in kindergarten (yes, full contact kindergarten fighting is a thing here too) he’d won two matches once. I told him “You win this next one and you get a medal” and Damn! I didn’t even think he was gonna beat that kid but he got the fire in his belly and ended up with the bronze. He’s strong as hell—seemed to get some of my sports build and can do some stuff his big bro can’t even, but his big bro seems to have gotten way more of the competitive “umph!”. 

Three kids we’ve got, all so different in their own ways. It’s a good lesson for dad me with occasional overly competitive tendencies. It’s a great lesson actually. A lot of great lessons. I’ve learned so much from trying (and often feeling like I’m blowing it) to dad perfectly. Still with each try and success or try and fail I realize these kids I think I’m teaching are in fact my teachers as well. Such was the case with that younger boy today. 

It’s been better’n a year ago now that he joined a local track and field club. He’s competed in more than a few track and field meets or cross country runs since then, so of course I expected he’d do better in the running events today than before. Expectations kill me every time. Like when Shiz (wife/mommy lady) answered “He’s not running” after my asking what time the relay race was. “Not running in it?” I exclaimed. “What do you mean not running in it! He’s been running two nights a week for the past eighteen months. He runs his ass off in a running club now. How could he NOT make the relay team THIS year!” I would’ve gone on longer but’d already recalled he tried to tell me as much. I remembered him saying he “might not” be running in the relay. He tried to tell me he wasn’t selected, I’d unconsciously chosen not to hear it.  I mentally SMH upon realizing my over competitiveness showed through and made him reluctant or, I hate to think it, even scared to tell me as much. Total dad fail! 

The eight or ten fastest kids of each grade level are chosen to run in the relay. The boy’s made it every year thus far, which is pretty danged good. He’s received apt praise for making it each year too of course. This year however and for which reason that he told a few of we know not, he didn’t run his fastest time during time trials and thus didn’t make the relay team. In fairness there are some danged fast kids in his grade and he just missed it by one, all it’d have taken is one no show kid and he’d have been there. Still I felt like crap. He was comfortable telling his mom but beat around the bush with me. He’s more comfortable and proficient in Japanese than in English as far as speaking goes so that made it easier to explain it to mom too. So no boy in the relay this year. First year ever. Last year both boys were in the relay. Every year they’ve been in the relay. Not this year. My boy is not in the top eight fastest kids group of his grade level. Terrible right? Not a word of it! Thank God for my wife reminding me to not be so serious about stuff that’s supposed to be fun.

I do I try like hell not to let my over-competitiveness show too much. That old Alanis Morissette song Perfect always plays in my mind when I catch myself getting close to doing so. So I didn’t mention him not being in the relay today. I praised him for running hard and coming in 3rd or 4th in his group, still focusing a little too much on the fact that a couple of kids took off before the starting gun fired, my kid not being one of them and, no doubt due to time restraints, them not calling the kids back to start again. Let it go I tell myself. It’s not like this is the freak’n Olympics! Then, as we watched the events I began to notice something. My boy the teacher appeared. He was teaching me all along, it just took me a while to catch on to the lesson.

While his chosen for the relay classmates were sitting on their chairs cheering my boy had donned an orange mesh tank with a big “2” on it over his white PE shirt and was out carrying flags and helping younger kids find their places and… he was helping! I spotted him out there again and again, running here, running there. Doing this. Doing that. Helping. And he was loving it. I’ve always noticed how his classmates love him. When I walk up near him in the group of kids getting ready to go out on the field I can’t help but notice how kids want to be near him, all the kids joking with him, smiles all around. The same is true of parent visit classroom day. Kids just love being around him. Added to that today though I noticed a happy seriousness on his face that I can’t recall noticing much before. He was putting real effort into the tasks that his teachers gave him. That competitive face that I put on for competing is the same he dons for working to make the event run smoothly.

And so it hit me. So what if he hasn’t gotten so crazy competitive over sports yet. So what if he never does. (He’s only ten years old so I won’t count it out yet. I was just catching it myself at that age and I was in competitive sports on steroids CUSD sports). Either way though, he is himself—his own perfectly unique not a carbon copy of dad-me self—and he himself was clearly into helping—into being sure he grabbed the kid who came in second or third or whatever place and guiding him to sit in the correct place—being sure he put the pylon or flag in the right place lickity split. He was tearing it up out there and clearly loving the responsibility.

So another sports day down and this time with a lesson for a dad bonus. Win Win. It’s fun too seeing how charged it leaves the kids, or our kid at least. Post sports day eve we—the younger boy, his little sister and I—spent all evening till after sundown out in front of the house and out on the riverbank running sprints for time and long jumping and doing feats of strength. The residual sports day excitement had yet to wear off of the boy. 

Final thought about sports day. One of the things I first noticed about it, way, way back before ever having kids of my own participating in it, was how all of the kids participate. I’m not making this up. Every single kid. It was true nearly twenty years ago and still true today. Every single freak’n kid runs. Back then when first watching junior high kids practice for it I remember watching thirty kids running side by side tied together at the ankles. One kid kept falling. The same kid kept falling. She’d fall and the rest would go down like dominos. They all got up. Nobody called her an idiot or clumsy or whatever. They dusted themselves off and tried again. Humans being what we are with our human faults I’m sure some kids get bullied or put down but years of sports days I really haven’t seen that much of it with this one. And today I re-learned that we’ve all got our roles to play in this life. If there aren’t any helper kids there can’t be any fastest runner kids. This is because that is. Just like in life we’re all interrelated. 

So there you have it. 

Nursery school Sports Day next weekend.  

Yoi…. DON! 

(Ready… GO!)