Tuesday, February 24, 2009

Lessons

The boys had their first gymnastics lesson today. It is the third "being taught" experience for Sam and the fourth for Trinidad. Initially, Sam clung to my legs whispering regrets about having signed up. Trinidad asked me not to stay and watch.

I walked slowly, Sam barnacled to my left thigh, to the circle and sat down. Over ten minutes, I slowly faded behind and away from my six year old as he took up the movements of the group, smiling.

After the hour of tumbling, rolling, and balancing, I asked my boys what they most enjoyed. Sam celebrated first that he had asked the teacher for help when he needed it. Wow! The fact that he valued the ability and willingness to seek support when needed -- how empowering I imagine that is for him! Trinidad told me that he loved it all. "Some things she asked us to do were plainly too difficult," he told me (his words, honest). "So Sam and I just found other things to do on the equipment when that happened."

I watched their integration with interest. In terms of motor skills, they both appeared to be ahead of the pack in almost all ways despite the novelty of this equipment. Other mothers turned to me with looks of surprise. "Looks like you've got a natural there," said one. Perhaps they stood out, being the only boys and wearing faded jeans and t-shirts rather than formal "gym clothes."

I also thought I saw a bit of awkwardness socially as they took instruction in a group format, something uncommon to their experience. Only once did they find themselves unable to resist the call of the beam when everyone else sat for instruction. But still, something about their quality of focus when they turned their full attention on the instructor seemed unusual. Perhaps it's my bias, but other parents did smile my way which seems to support my theory. Something akin to the mule that took the dressage title, yah? I'm guessing that their natural aptitude comes from the amount of time that they spend exploring their world freely in body, mind and spirit.

Maybe instead of "unschooled" we should call it "undesked."

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