One of the things that sometimes nags at me in the back of
my mind when I think about raising our children in a relatively remote area is
the idea that they won’t have enough opportunities to excel in a specific field
like they would if we were located in a sizable US city. What if she’s meant to be the world’s greatest harpist, or ice skater?
Who would train her?? I guess it’s because I grew up in a city with ample
opportunities for sports and the arts, and I was fortunate enough to be
supported to follow my interests that I worry about these things. Maybe every
parent suspects her son or daughter could be destined for greatness—if only
given the chance. I don’t know. I do recognize that I think my children are exceptional, and just knowing that I think
that way helps me curb some of my, um, enthusiasm (a little, anyway). Hey, I
love them, and I think you would like them, too.
But the good news is that I’ve started to look at things a
little differently the last few days. For one thing, I think it’s more
important to excel at being a human being above all else. To do that, you need
happy parents who talk with you and listen to you and set reasonable
boundaries. By spending a lot of time together, I feel like we’re able to help
guide them in this way. This is the hope, anyway, and our live-aboard lifestyle
gives us the proximity to be extremely involved in their personal development
if we so choose.
The other thing is that those little Romanian girls are
awesome gymnasts, not because Romanian girls are naturally better than other country’s
girls at the sport of gymnastics but because the culture perhaps focuses a bit
more on it than in other places, and they have serious coaches to support it.
More surfers come from Hawaii, and more skiers come from Vermont. That’s just
the way it goes, because the environment naturally lends itself to those types
of activities. If you think about it, environment can add a lot of fuel to
addiction, crime, academic success, anything really.
So here we are in the
Caribbean with a little girl who is interested in everything. Violin, soccer, ballet, art, swimming, languages, you
name it, and she wants to be involved. Well at age 5, you’re crazy to try it
all at once, as much as you may be tempted to. Finances and time aside, you
don’t want the kid to burn out on things too quickly.
So back to the “natural environment” thing, swimming lessons
make sense. Olympic swimmer? Probably not. Confident swimmer who has fun
swimming with other kids and feels safe around safe water situations? Yes, oh
yes! That’s our goal, and we’re pretty much there with Halina. Lessons are
mainly for stroke development and time hanging with other kids. And it never really
occurred to me much until recently, but sailing without Mom and Dad makes
sense, too. We happened to meet this awesome woman who runs a new sailing
school in Red Hook and organizes the brand new Montessori sailing team, so we
talked to her, and despite Halina only weighing about 35 pounds, we all agreed
she might do well with a couple private lessons to see if she would be a good
fit for group lessons with the other kids after school.
We live on a sailboat and we actually go sailing all the
time, so it makes sense that she should develop an understanding of the
fundamentals of what it is we’re doing out on the water all day. And we don’t
want her to feel like it’s a mandatory family activity she’s tagging along for.
We want her to have her own sailing identity and appreciation for the sport.
Having the instruction come from someone else is usually a good idea when
teaching a loved one something that is near and dear to your heart. My husband
brilliantly set me up with a nice, cute sailing instructor when I was starting
out on purpose. Hey, motivation to please and not look like an idiot can
sometimes go a long way when you’re trying to learn something! And I wasn’t
about to argue with him or cry when I got frustrated. I don’t think there’s
educational research to back this up, but just trust me on this one.
Anyway, Halina jumped up and down 500 times when we set the
date for her first lesson. Her instructor was to be this nice 8th
grade boy named Scott, the sailing school operator’s son. He just got back from an international Opti
competition in Florida where he ranked 23rd out of 250 sailors. Another
friend’s seven year-old son had had a lesson with him and really liked it, so
he came recommended. I had talked extensively with his mom, and she and I are
on the same page in terms of education philosophy. She said that because Halina
weighs so little and is only five, Scott would be in the boat with her the
first lesson or so. Next, he would probably hang off the back (these are little
Opti’s), and if she did alright by herself, she could join group lessons when
they start later in January. Perfect! I’ll wait at least a couple days to push
for Sailing Team membership and checking into the minimum age for national
racing.
Wait! There, I did it. I AM one of those moms. And my
husband is one of those dads, I have to say. Did I see a tear come to his eye
when she hopped into the BVI-sponsored Opti named “Shrimp” and take off towards
Vessup Beach? Did we not both about explode with delight when Scott said he’d
never had a student catch on so quickly—or how about when Halina told us her
favorite part of the lesson was “changing sides” (tacking, honey, tacking!)? While I didn’t get into
sailing til I started dating my husband some 12 years ago, he went to sailing
camp with all the other local kids, so he grew up with it in his bones. I guess
there’s something about seeing your kid do well with something that’s near and
dear to you--especially when they really enjoy it, too. Halina had a ball out
there. She listened, she looked comfortable, she had fun, she learned, and she
felt like she accomplished something great. With all those good feelings
running around, it’s easy to forget that there’s no harp instructor on the
island.