Out of all my children, this is the one that laughs the most. He’s also the one that cries the most. I understand that.
Tiny arms moving gracelessly through his first form, face a mask of concentration and trepidation, tongue poking out between his teeth, just like his mom; I watched the teacher watching him, trying to take the mother out of my eyes and failing. “I hate karate,” he had said as we walked into class. My heart was tight in my chest for him. It’s hard to be new. It’s hard to be unsure. It’s hard to be little. But most of all it’s hard to want nothing more than to be a great Karate master and have your limbs continuously betray you.
The Sensei paused in front of him – it felt like eons before he nodded, his twinkling eyes belying his strict mouth – and said, “You did well.”
Even though I was pretending to read my book, the 5-year-old drama eclipsed the one in the paperback and I watched my son’s small chest puff up in pride. The tightness in mine loosened. But then I saw it spark in my son’s eyes and I knew what he was going to say before the impish words left his mouth. “No I didn’t.”
Allowing a small smile to purse his aged lips Sensei nodded in agreement before cupping my son’s chin and replying, “Listen. And next time you’ll do better.”
My breath caught as I felt the sting for him but as I watched my son resume his Horse Stance with renewed determination I realized that the Sensei’s admonition was relative to the ear of the hearer. I took it as a slight, a correction, a public admission of failure. My son took it as a hope, a correction, a public admission of faith. The fact that he could do better did not detract from the fact that he also did well. And he sensed his Sensei’s confidence that he would do better. Where I had responded to the emotion, he had responded to the honesty. However would he become a great Karate master unless he accepted that there was work yet to be done? Very young children are honesty personified.
I considered the last time I was measured. It was not long ago. As adults we do not usually perform the judging in so obvious a way but nevertheless it happens. And I will admit my first instinct was not to correct the generous appraisal in order to seek a more realistic assessment of my strengths and weaknesses. I wanted – deeply – to only hear the good. Because my sense of self is fragile, weakened from years of battering. But it is only through acknowledging our weaknesses that we grow stronger. I know this. My son who is strong and resilient and as yet uncrushed by expectation, he also knows it.
And so the voice tells me: You did well. Listen. And next time you will do better.
This implies that I will stop talking long enough to listen to the wisdom of others. This tells me that I must be persistent in my work so that there will be a next time. And this shows that for every weakness there is a strength – nothing is so flawed that it cannot be beautiful. Even me.
All this from a kindergarten Karate class? This is not the first time my children have shown me the grace in humility. I’m listening.
What little lessons have you guys learned lately? How do you accept your weaknesses without getting bogged down by them? Anyone else learn something funny from a child?
Other articles I wrote this week:
Other lessons I have learned from my children: 7 manner adults should learn from kids
7 tips for getting professional pictures (and how I messed them all up)
Your multi-vitamin may be killing you (whole foods for the win! Again!)
Tony Horton’s tips for getting the most out of your P90X 2 – coming out in December! – workout
Fitness Challenge: How to do the “impossible push-up” (Have you tried it yet??)
Voting is still open for Shape magazine’s favorite fitness bloggers! (Vote for Mizfit – hurry!)
Don’t forget, you can still enter the $100 Visa gift card giveaway just for telling me about your deodorant. (You licked it. Admit it.)
I’ve learnt that when it comes to disappointing people, it doesn’t matter as long as I’m happy with what I’ve done. I can’t be everything to everyone.
I’ve taken on so much this year and tried to make everyone happy, but the other day, I realised that in order to make me happy, I have to disappoint someone else and I’m okay with that.
This is beautiful Charlotte. How wonderful that your son is strong enough to have really listened and grown from the experience rather than throw a tizzy fit as others might have done.
I have learned something but it’s not fabulously deep like this: I learned to use Windows Live Writer and it may just have contributed to me continuing to blog!
Miss you!
As always I read your post and I reread your post and I am in awe of your writing.
And your mothering.
And your WILLINGNESS to learn from your children and (not the phasing Im longing for :)) allow them to teach you as so many parents do not.
Love this post.
It’s so easy to get caught up in protecting our egos that we don’t leave ourselves open to see how we could be better–because to admit we’re not already perfect feels like failure. How screwed up is that? But I do it all the time.
“Listen and next time you will do better.” Must remember!
I agree this is beautifully written. I think it’s so important that kids learn to be “coachable.” This means that they have sufficient confidence to know they are fallible and are are willing to really listen and accept correction. My 4th grader has done Karate for 4 years and learning to be coached is one of the greatest things about it (not to mention I joke he can be my defender if I ever get in a bar fight….it’s amazing….not that I go to bars, but you get my drift).
Your writing never ceases to amaze me. You combine wit with seriousness in such a readable way.
I tried the push up yesterday….I couldn’t even hold the plank for two seconds. I have no idea how you were able to do TWO pushups!!!
I’m going to try to take this one to heart.
Lately, the most prevalent message has been that everything good takes time. As cliche as that sounds, I’ve always been a rushrushrush kind of person, and I’m learning to let go and let someone else’s schedule dictate for a while. Sucks, but it’s necessary.
I am continually learning from my boyfriend’s 7 year old son. He is honestly a joy. My favorite, though, is when it was windy one day and he wanted to ride his scooter (Razor type) and I said, “Aren’t you afraid the wind will blow you over?”
His response: “I’m awesome. Perfect, actually.”
You know what? He’s right.
I like your son’ss ensei a lot. 🙂
It’s funny how different people give criticism in many ways. My graduate supervisor is kind, but gruff and bluntly honest. I like him, and I’ve learned a great deal. He gies prais ewhen it’s due, but always offers constructive criticism and advice. I know it’s so I will improve and it makes me want to do better.
Other people don’t like him and think he’s a jerk…but I get it. I’m glad for the help.
I think praise is good sometimes, but you never improve until someone honest teaches you. A real teacher will help you correct your flaws and not brush over them or point them out to you to shame you. I hope I an do the samif I ever have kids or students of my own…
I have seen my kids in situations that I think will cause them to crumple and have seen them stand tall and brave. Their courage to press on even when the fates have conspired against them leaves me in awe and completely humbled.
Ah, motherhood. What a ride!!
Oh and btw, I LOVE this picture of you and your little man!
If this was facebook, I would “like” this post! 🙂
What a gorgeous picture of you two!
Loved this post. So many things we could learn if we just listened.
Your post reminded me of a Kenny Rogers song that I love “The Greatest”. Tells the story of a little boy that by just looking at something differently, goes from striking out, to being the best pitcher!
I absolutely adore that picture! Listening and learning is a lot of what I do for a living, so I would say the last time I listened and learned was just a few days ago! I was visiting farmers in Tasmania, and I always learn so much from farmers, just so long as I put my personal views to the side (especially about animal husbandry) and hear them out.
I love the video of the impossible pushup. Why is Allison such a bada**?? It seems she can always do these things so well!
Look how gorgeous you guys are!
I sometimes watch my kids and their fearlessness. It’s pretty amazing: I don’t remember EVER being that fearless!
Jinx Char….
I also wrote today about a BIG reminder my 11 year old gave me on trust. Check it out if you have a moment to visit my blog.
I am also going to send you the recipe for Pumpkin soup in a sec.
I wanted – deeply – to only hear the good. Because my sense of self is fragile, weakened from years of battering. But it is only through acknowledging our weaknesses that we grow stronger.This implies that I will stop talking long enough to listen to the wisdom of others. This tells me that I must be persistent in my work so that there will be a next time. And this shows that for every weakness there is a strength – nothing is so flawed that it cannot be beautiful. Even me.
Charlotte, from your post – it really says it all & boy, I feel & understand it! I want to hear the good because I have heard the bad more than I care too but as you said, it is not so much the bad but that we can really do better, not that we are doing bad. It is hard to hear when you have been beaten down before. I have a hard time not getting bogged down by that but I plug on.
Kids, just watching them have fun without caring about who is around them or who is watching is a lesson for me!
I love this. So beautifully put.
I read your post about “Manners we learn from our kids. ” I would like to remind you to teach your children the proper english langage form of a command. I taught my children that the command form of the english langage does not start with PLEASE. If I start with please it is a request and you can say yeas or no. But a command form requires obedient action or you are refusing to obay. Having been a teacher I know this understanding is lacking in our society.
I want to comment in a way that adds something, but you said it all. What a beautiful lesson. I know that I myself really struggle with feedback because my mind goes very quickly to feeling criticized and, as you say, battered. But when someone can recognize the strength and potential in you when giving you feedback, like your son’s teacher did, that can transform what can feel shaming into something that sparks growth. I’ll remember this one for a while!
I have learned since becoming pregnant that sometimes you can’t be a superwoman. You’ve got to just let people help you and stop being prideful. I think that’s been the hardest lesson for me to learn is that I can’t do everything and you have to slow down sometimes.
This gives me goosebumps!
I don’t have any examples, but man do I love hearing about educators being so positive and encouraging to the little minds of tomorrow. Your son is so lucky to have a wonderful karate instructor!