Getting the Part

Disappointment can feel like a tragic fall from sky-high expectations. The realization impact is what hurts the most and it guts us -- that the person you like doesn't like you back, or trying out for the sports team and not making the cut, or the part in the play you auditioned for that you don't get, or the job you really felt you were qualified for that you don't get, or the promotion you really felt you were qualified for that you don't get. 

The one about not getting the job you want is something that our teens haven't experienced yet. Only our oldest Beatrice has had a paying job the past two years, and was also promoted in year two, as a paid summer camp counselor. Our youngest Bryce can't wait to get a part-time job next summer. 

Both our kids played recreation soccer for years (with me as their coach for many of them), and then in middle school they tried out for and made the team. Both were solid players with good fundamental skills. The clique competitiveness wasn't for them, though, which outweighed the joy they derived from playing. That's when music and theater became their go-to participatory "sports".

Pre-covid both kids participated in a sweet theater troupe called Musical Mondays. They got to play a variety of roles, which was so much fun to watch their fun. Bryce participated in another theater program after that, but like in soccer, the clique competitiveness was too much. But choir was different in middle school for Bryce, who got to perform solos with a tentative but growing confidence. 

Now both our teens are in high school choir and theater and loving them because. The environment is still competitive, but much more inclusive and supportive. However, the disappointment of auditioning and not getting the roles they want is painfully real. It sucks, especially when they have experience and they practiced the roles beforehand. 

Some would say, "Well, that's life, and it's only going to get more competitive, and there will always be winners and losers." And that's true. There will be those who are stellar at what they do because of their abilities. There can also be bias, favoritism, nepotism, and privilege that help propel them. 

A certain amount of "putting yourself out there" and competitiveness is helpful character building. It can incrementally improve confidence and fuel the passion and the willingness to take a chance for something we want to do or be and like to do or be. Liking and wanting are important fulfillment companions, but wanting without liking can be just frustrating and self-loathing as never taking a shot in the first place. Thank you Rick Hanson and your Foundations of Wellbeing course.

We must be able to process and learn from not getting what we want (the part, the job, the position, etc.), from the disappointment that can gut us. Training or no training, practice or no practice, innate talent or aspirational talent, favoritism or fairness, it still all sucks when it doesn't work out for us. How we grapple with this disappointment, reassess what we liked and wanted and what we want to do now, understand what ultimately generates joy for us, and how we move forward without fear of judgment or self-judgment, are the only things we have control over.

Our hearts ache when our children ache with disappointment. We can't protect them from that; they have to go through it. However, getting to the other side of it and feeling grounded and confident to keep going is what's critical and what we've worked to impart on them. 

As parents, we’re proud of them and grateful they continue to explore their passions. The good news is that they're both getting the part where, no matter what happens, they hold their heads high and are proud of who they are and what they're capable of. They prioritize the joy in what they do while empathizing with others who don't. 

This Was All Them, Again

"From first to last
The peak is never passed
Something always fires the light
That gets in your eyes
One moment's high
And glory rolls on by
Like a streak of lightning
That flashes and fades
In the summer sky..."

–Rush, Marathon

Three years coaching the oldest, one year coaching the youngest, and then I retired. Well, not really retired, I just couldn't do it again due to my work travel schedule. And that was a hard choice, because I really enjoyed coaching recreational soccer. I really enjoyed trying to instill skills, fun and teamwork with the girls I coached, especially our daughters.

It was big investment of time, and worth all of it as well, since I'm always learning myself -- learning how to communicate better with kids and adults alike. I won't sugarcoat -- everyone's an armchair quarterback coach -- and that was especially evident last year. Our girls' parents were always supportive and good-intentioned, and everyone had an idea on how to help the players get better, whether it be from the sidelines or bending my ear. I asked for counsel as well, knowing again I was constantly learning how and what to teach the team. 

That's no different this year; I'm now a spectator parent who coaches from the sideline, calling out where the girls should be, what they should do. I'm not the only one, of course, and we have only our girls best interest in mind. Kind of. Some of us are more competitive than others, and the fun, skills and teamwork gets filtered through the distorted lens of winning. Or at least trying to win.

Ah, the part about having fun. We tell them we want them to have fun, and then you play against teams that are more physical and more organized and more competitive and score on you over and over again. The old sports cliche of "it's not whether you win or lose -- it's how you play the game" sours quickly when you're getting pummeled. I saw it in their hot and tired faces every week last year, coaching my youngest Bryce and her team.

That feels like a long time ago now. As I wax nostalgic, the reality each year is that is only some of the girls will go on to playing competitive soccer, while many others will grow up and do other things, maybe fondly remembering the years they played rec soccer.

Except, many of them still are playing, including both our daughters. Thank you to the coaches who are volunteering their time this year. What's been fascinating to watch are the leaps they've made this year already, and the season has only just begun. Beatrice has come a long way in four years and she's now playing U12 with some pretty amazing athletes, girls who could be playing competitively. Her team played their first game recently and Bea told us she wanted to score a goal. This reminded me of Bryce last year on our way to our last game together.

We were so proud watching her play, only because she had always been tentative with aggressively going after the ball. Bea turned it on though, and while she didn't score, she gave her shots her best shot when she played forward. And her defensive play was pretty tight as well.

Bryce is playing U10 again, and some of the girls she played with last year on the team I coached and playing together again. Watching them I thought, "Wow, is this the same team?" Sure, there's still the moments of kicking the ball the wrong way, and clumping together on the field watching the ball go by while we scream (positively) to go after the ball, but there's so many more moments of putting skills and teamwork together underscored with fun. Competitive fun, especially when you score, like Bryce did, scoring the first goal of the first game. And then again, and again. That little lightning girl has got it going on.

And like the end of last year, this was all them, again, for both our girls. They owned it and the confidence and clarity of what they did shone brightly in their eyes. We watched them beam back at us as if saying, "Did you see that? I just did that." As a parent, there's no better feeling than watching your child shine with a self-awareness of accomplished progress that they can articulate with action, again and again.

That Lift of Heart and Soul

(Bea and Me)

The part where Amanda Whurlizer strikes out the boys. #GirlPower

That's the Tatum O'Neal character from the very funny and uncomfortably dark 1976 classic The Bad News Bears. Video shorts of Coach Buttermaker (Walter Matthau) and team, and my own fond memories of playing baseball, kept playing in my head during Little League opening day here in Santa Cruz.

A few weeks ago Beatrice started talking about her kindergarten classmates playing T-ball (which she actually thought was soccer at first, but who's keeping score, right?) and she really wanted to play. The Mama and I never want to push Beatrice or Bryce into any sport or activity that they don't want to try. Even then, we'll do our best to temper our competitive enthusiasm if either one gets really good at whatever they're involved in.

Strike that -- I'll do my best to temper my competitive enthusiasm. It has nothing to do of overcompensating for not having a boy, because I have two very capable girls who will be empowered to try and embrace whatever they want, no matter their prowess. Just like when Beatrice took martial arts last year, something that really helped boost her confidence and coordination.

But I am more of the competitive one in the family, and I do like winning. And although I don't ever plan on being one of those disruptive parents on the field, I do plan on encouraging and cheering on my girls "enthusiastically."

Opening day for Beatrice and her T-ball teammates was an unusually hot Spring day and thankfully we (the parents) had plenty of water on hand. I had dressed Bea before we left, and while she might have looked a little disheveled, she had the glow of a star ball player. The other dads said they loved how I pulled her red socks up like the old stirrup socks of old. (However, the Mama thankfully straightened her up before her team pictures.)

On the way to opening day we stopped to buy her first glove and she immediately picked a sweet little red one, to match her uniform of course. Mercy me gloves are expensive. Wait, the whole friggin' sports thing is expensive, but again, who's keeping score, right? Sigh. It's only just begun.

They didn't actually play a game on opening day, but they did run through skills training with the older kids in Little League: catching, throwing, fielding grounders, running the bases and hitting the ball off the tee.

By the way, Beatrice is the only girl on the team and the biggest kid by far. She continues to amaze me. Watching her play and really trying to learn the fundamentals while having fun lifted my heart and soul with so much love and pride. Granted, we really haven't played the game much with her, if at all, but she hung tough and worked hard on each and every skill. And when it came time to hit that ball -- whack! -- she hit that ball like a boss.

And that's what we want Beatrice to experience no matter what sports or activities she plays: win or lose, that lift of heart and soul.

But assistant coach Kevin will always take more win. Amen. #PlayBall #GirlPower