Perseverance

We were supposed to be at Scout camp today. My little one is finally a Webelo, and we were going to our first overnight at the big Scout camp. We should be doing things like archery, shooting BB guns, and eating hobo dinners. Tonight, we would sit around the campfire singing goofy songs and eating s'mores before crashing in our tent. Yes, tent.

Instead, it is 45 degrees and raining outside. Between the weather and that fact that we've both been sick with respiratory ick, well, the tent we've borrowed will remain safely in the back of my car.

Sure, it's turned fall pretty quickly out there. I have a pot of onion soup simmering, the yard needs raking, and I would really enjoy a nap right about now. That said, I tend to think of this as back to school season--the real fall (for me) comes when we hit the corn mazes, make things out of pumpkins and drink cider in its various forms (warm, cold, spiced, straight, spiked).

Back to school season, on the other hand, includes things like new pencils, bus schedules, and bought v home-packed lunches. This year, it also means that CS gets to learn how to play an instrument (the cello), join the snow sports club (snowboard), and he's decided to try a new sport (ice hockey even though he's never played, and doesn't know how to skate).

Of these, the most unexpected was his decision to try hockey.

Before the move here, he had zero interest in any organized sport. Or disorganized sport either, if I'm honest. His willingness to try new things was limited to TV programs, and all too often his fear of failure kept him from participating in new things.

I don't know what it is about his place, but something has empowered this kid. I first noticed it last year, when he joined the chess club. I assumed he'd go once or twice and then drop out. He surprised me by sticking with it. Not only did he stay with it, but he went back week after week and never won a game. I'd pick him up after school, ask how he did, and he'd say things like "I lost, but next week I'm going to try a different move and see if it goes better." Come spring, he wanted to play lacrosse and I said "only if you commit to the whole season." He's a terrible player, but loves the sport and is looking forward to going back next year. Before coming here, he would've walked away without even a backward glance.

In education we call this perseverance. Perseverance is marked by a willingness to keep trying, even when we might fail, and the ability to look at failure and make plans to keep going. I don't know what changed, but I do know that each time he tries something new and goes back for more; each time he fails but gets back up and keeps going, I lose my breath to a rush of gratitude.

So here we are, at the opening volley of another school year. There are new friends to make, a cello to play, hockey equipment to beg, borrow, steal, or (if we must) buy. Lunches to pack, buses to catch, Iroquois longhouses to build. There will be joy, and loss, and another chance to camp out with the Webelos. We don't get to predict what comes next, and don't get to control much outside of our own tiny selves, but we will persevere.

I'm a little disappointed that we're not camping tonight, but mostly I'm looking forward to onion soup and a chance to cuddle with my kid while we watch Ghostbusters. Tomorrow is soon enough for cello practice and hockey equipment.