Just Play

June 12, 2016June 12, 2016@rebeccagualdoni 2 Comments

When asked if she would be ok if her team lost the championship game, my daughter’s response was “Mommy, we got to the finals and I’m getting a trophy no matter what!” Her happiness and enthusiasm was like a light on fire and I soaked in it.

The girls were excited, ready to play, their faces full of anticipation. They just wanted to play. Just play. They had a worthy opponent, they had lost to them twice this season, a fact that none of them likely even recalled or cared about. Just play. They were in the championship game and that was all that really mattered. There would be a trophy and ice cream and that was enough.

Filled with the light of their enthusiasm, I was eager too. Eager to watch these girls that had worked hard to form a team. Girls from different schools, different playing experience, different ages. They didn’t care about any of this, probably they didn’t even notice. They wanted to just play. They had become something together and that was enough. I was eager to hear them shout their silly cheers. Eager to see how much their hard work had paid off. This wasn’t a team that you thought from the beginning was going places. This was a team that had worked hard to learn the game that got a little better each time that figured out how to make plays and hit the ball and to slide. Ahhh… the glorious slide. Win or lose didn’t matter to me because I loved to watch them just play. Just play. And that was enough.

My little bubble of enthusiasm was quickly pierced as I saw this game take on a persona that was completely unfitting. I witnessed behavior that indicated that I had clearly missed something. I searched around looking for college scouts. Nope, not here. I checked to see if perhaps the Olympic rings were hanging somewhere. Also missing. I searched each child’s face. Yep, they were still all single digit ages, wide eyed, full cheeked and grinning their baby teethed smiles. I scanned the field – all the coaches in their places…..yes, that’s right this is an instructional league. And yet the scene that unfolded in front of me indicated something different. Parents screaming, coaches arguing, ref calls (by the way, the ref was about 15 years old….) being questioned. Where am I?

I tried to concentrate on the game, to keep the voices of these parents out of my space, to not let them take up my air. I watched each girl to see if they were picking up what was going on around them. I willed them to stay inside their little selves and just play. They seemed oblivious. I was envious. Just play. They tried hard. They did their best. They made good plays and bad plays. They struck out and got great hits. They did it all. And they were happy. It was enough.

One team won and one lost. You see, that is how this works. Your kids going to lose and you should get used to that right now. And instead of losing your damn minds about fairness and rules and other nameless nonexistent injustices, you should have concentrated on the happiness that was unleashed in all of them. You should have harnessed it and rode the high right there with them. Instead you got so wound up in your own anger and self-righteousness that you missed the beauty and power of these little girls. You missed it. My only hope is that you left your garbage at that field and went home and celebrated your child. That you didn’t spend your time raking the other team over the coals, speaking of the incompetence of the ref, and degrading the “cheating coaches”. I hope you put your indignant self to rest, and returned to your role of parent and number one fan and reveled in your child’s accomplishment. I hope you let her relive every moment of her game. Allowing her to parade around with her trophy. If you didn’t, you should be ashamed of yourself. This wasn’t about you. Not for one damn minute. This was about your little girl and nothing more. A little girl that still doesn’t understand the rules, a little girl that is cultivating her love of a game, a little girl that just wants a trophy and a snack at the end of the game. A little girl who is perfectly happy to just play. That was enough for her. It should have been enough for you too.

the journey

June 4, 2016@rebeccagualdoni Leave a comment

The stranger approached. Familiar to her, yet completely unknown.

Without hesitation she handed over her keys.

The journey was long, the terrain changing over and over.

It sped by quickly and no matter what she did she found she couldn’t slow them down.

At times they laughed and smiled so much that she couldn’t help but wonder if this was all real. How could anything be this good? How had she been so lucky to get to this place full of dreaming and wonder?

It filled her up. spilling over and over.

They were entwined.

Their connection so strong that nothing, nothing in the world would ever break them.

At times, the road was rough. They lost their way, got separated, took wrong turns, headed in the wrong direction.

In these times she held on tight, her anxiety a vice, her fear taking up all the space. She pulled all her strength, gripped tightly, and somehow endured.

And then, just like that they were righted again and on their way. She found her breath.

She took it all in. Each stop along the way different from the one before. Each stop special and unique and worth holding onto. Her arms so full she feared something important would slip away.

Time passed, the journey became more sure. They knew their way.

She moved to the back seat. Her view still clear. Her vantage point different.

The path was theirs now. Sure footed confident.

She breathed a little easier. She would always be there.

They knew this.

They owned the journey now.

becoming mommy

May 28, 2016May 28, 2016@rebeccagualdoni Leave a comment

it happens

in that first moment

when you are still you

when who you are is all your own

it happens

slowly

without really noticing

you give yourself away

it happens

bit by bit

and you find that you don’t mind

it happens

each thing relinquished seems frivolous

a wisp of something floating in the wind

it happens

it consumes you, swallows you whole, takes up your space, your air, your everything

your circle widens

your compass changes

it happens

your senses expand

alive, tingling

so full of everything

it happens

pivotal moment

April 17, 2016April 17, 2016@rebeccagualdoni 1 Comment

Softball practice. 12 little girls – the definition of juxtaposition- dirty and dusty with their pink helmets and bats. Well, except for mine of course, hers were blue….I watched them throw the ball, some of them with near perfect accuracy, and others, well, they threw like girls. (I can say that, because they are girls….) I watched the coaches work with them to refine how they held the ball, how to position their arm, where to place their feet. They looked at their coaches intently and I could see that in their minds they were really trying to work this out. Try after try they got a little better and then better still. Their faces lighting up with surprise each time the ball landed in their mitt, eventually that surprise turning to knowing confidence. They swung their bats tirelessly. Over and over waiting for the tinny clink of the bat connecting with the ball. Didn’t matter if they missed or hit the ball, they wanted to do it again and again. For an hour I watched this, full of wonder and pride for these little girls all of which had never played this game before. I loved their energy, their intentness, their willingness to learn, to try again. Their sense of satisfaction at their little accomplishments. But most of all, I loved their comfort. There was nothing to prove. There was no question in their minds. They just knew they belonged here.

I was so taken in by this scene that I hardly noticed the little girl that wandered up next to me. She had her hands wrapped in the fence, her face pressed against it. She was watching as intently as I was. We stood side by side for what seemed like a long time and finally she turned up and looked at me. “Do they let boys play this game?”

My eyes prickled and I fought the urge to pick her up and squeeze her and swing her round and round. I looked down at her and quietly said “Sometimes.”

Beat by a Girl

March 19, 2016April 17, 2016@rebeccagualdoni 3 Comments

Recently, I have been introduced to the world of middle school wrestling. My early observations are 1) this is a no joke hard sport requiring an amazing amount of strength, flexibility and concentrated endurance 2) this is not a sport for the faint of heart. (That would be me) and 3) wrestling is both horrifying and fascinating with its raw, almost barbaric nature.

Pins, reversals, take-downs….all of it makes me wince and periodically squeeze my eyes shut. What I do love though, is the element of sportsmanship that is built into each match; Circle up around each kid and cheer their name before they go to the mat, shake your opponents hand, shake hands again at the end of the match, cross the mat, shake the hand of the opposing coach, go back to your team for one armed hugs and back pats. This is good and right and kind of makes up for all the cringing I do in between. Ohhhhh….and there are girls wrestling! Also good and right.

Watching my first match between a girl and boy, I couldn’t help but wonder about what was going through these kids heads. I imagined the girl pushing herself to prove that she could win in the male dominated world of wrestling. I admit, I lived a little bit in her skin cheering for her to fight and push and drive. Urging her on to win her place in this new world she had wandered into. And then I turned my attention to the boy, wondering if he was worried about losing to a girl, wondering if his teammates, his family, his friends would ridicule him if she beat him. And there I was, caught in my own trap. Distinguishing these two kids and putting them each neatly in their gender box. After a little internal admonishment, I pushed those thoughts away and watched the match for what it was – two athletes fighting hard for the win. I don’t remember who won. It doesn’t matter. I watched a lot of wresting that day and what I found with each match regardless of who was on the mat, the better athlete won. Girl or boy, it was always the better athlete.

So, why are we still talking about gender? The thing is, we can’t seem to help ourselves. Every time I have mentioned that girls are wrestling with the boys to anyone, I get met with shock and sputtering, stammered questions. “You mean the boys are wrestling against the girls?” “Umm yes, I believe I just said that.” What is surprising to me is what comes out of their mouths next. “I don’t know what I would do if my son was beat by a girl.” “If my son came home and told his sister he was beat by a girl, he would never hear the end of it……”, “I don’t know what I would say if my kid if got beat by a girl”, “I would never let my daughter wrestle” On and on it goes until the inevitable happens; My mouth opens and I just can’t stop the words from tumbling out. Words that have piled up over the years. Words that are rooted in every inequality that I’ve ever experienced or witnessed. They start and it goes something like this….”You do know that women have the right to vote, right? Maybe you’ve heard about Title IX? And what the hell are you teaching your children anyway? And where is your wife, because she and I need to talk…..”

I see their eyes widen as they look for an escape. I give them the “there is no way you’re getting out of this alive” stare and then more calmly, because I need them to hear me now, really hear me – – “When your boy gets beat by a girl, you tell him to get up and try again, to work a little harder, to prepare a little more. You hug that child and tell him you are proud of him. You tell him the exact same thing that you tell him when he gets beat by a boy. The. Exact. Same. Thing. And then you tell your daughter to support her brother and to be his biggest fan. He will have enough critics in his life, he doesn’t need her to be one too. Teach your children that the people that win in this life are the ones that work hard, that show up every day and do what it takes regardless of who they are or where they come from. Teach them to lose with grace with their head held high. Teach them that they are capable of great things and to celebrate their own success with fervor and to celebrate a little more for the people around them that are succeeding. Once you’ve done all of this, take a minute to get over yourself and your misguided ego because you are your child’s compass and they will follow you anywhere. The will follow you anywhere. Teach your children well.