What does Stitch Think?

It's hard for me to comment back on the posts, but thanks for all the encouragement. Last night we hit Public Ice on Thursday for the first time in ages, and I actually made a concerted effort at practicing. I did crossovers until my legs were sore, stroking with my free leg back and not to the side, and backwards half pumps. Towards the end of the session, I got really brave and tried backwards stroking and T-stops. (Holding the wall... does that count?) I want to go back tonight.

Stitch enjoys just playing around, and he was all over the place. He made snow with his friends, ate ice cream, and harassed Rink Pal.

On the way home, I felt pretty good about what I'd done. "What do you think?" I asked him. "Think I could do this?"
"Maybe," he was unsure.
"Doesn't seem too hard. Just a lot of practice. Maybe I could be doing back crossovers by the end of summer. Maybe I could compete someday."
He borked. "You? Compete?"
"Sure. Why not? Other adults do it."
"Uuuh, okay..." He really didn't know about this idea.
"Think I could look good in a skating dress?" I polished off that thought with *after you drop about thirty pounds* in my head.
"Please don't do that," I could hear his dread.
"Why?"
"Because that would be embarassing."

On this point, I have to agree with him. I'll need to come up with something reasonable to skate in.

We Return to Normal Schedule

So, I learned today that watching any Learn to Skate session is made much more lively by listening to Rap music over your headphones. The following video is NSFW.



Yes, Pre-Alpha and Tots suddenly get a whole new dimension.

Stitch started out with Coach in the early morning. I put on skates, was feeling rather chipper, sent Stitch into the rink and ran headlong into Mr and Ms. Valium. "Good morning!" I greeted them loudly.

"Oh, how are you?" Ms. Valium was her quiet self.
Mr. Valium gives us both a look. "Honey, this is the same mom."
"No," replies Ms. Valium. "This is the other boy's mom."
"Are you sure? She looks the same as that other mom."
"Nope!" I say. "Different mom!" (I can't make this shit up.)

We have some awkward conversation before Stitch storms out of the rink and demands my presence inside. "Gotta go, nice talking with you," I relish my excuse.

I waved hi to Coach, and settle myself on the far end of the rink, away from the Parent Parking Bench. I ran music for her, alternating between zoning out, watching the bigger kids get fussed at and trying to listen to the coaches bickering in other languages. PrepSchool was getting schooled, not in skating, but in shutting up. Olympia was trying to give instruction to her bevy of girls, while PrepSchool apparently was talking over her, and she snapped off at him in a big way. (I can't blame her, but it was a bit excessive given the public nature of that lesson group.) She then tossed him off to another Coach, who taught him and another boy backwards edges. I was trying to keep my laughter to myself. Pardon me, but weren't you supposed to have backwards edges down by now, if you're in a freestyle group? Whatevs. So PrepSchool and Other Boy were doing half-assed edgework, goofing off, when the Other Coach flips out and threatens to kick them off the ice. Beautiful.

Anyway. Stitch and Coach were working on a harder spin, doing the program, nothing too serious. I was just enjoying myself, but Stitch was determined to hate the day. He was being excessively whiny and obstinate. Hm.

Coach came off the ice and we had a mutual apology session. Just confusion on both our parts, and everything was fine again. We scheduled some time for the following week, but then Stitch began complaining. "He says he doesn't like to do Gamma, he says it is too much," Coach says.
"That's a bullshit line," I dismissed it.
"Well, I know it's bullshit, but,"
For a moment it hit me just how casual our conversation had become.

She told me her own frustrations with The Prepschool situation, but that it was Coaches trying to force the kids to Freestyle faster because the ice was more convenient. That may be so.. but.... "I know, they can't skate," she agreed, but things were easier once that little bump got passed. A few more profanities later, and I felt reassured and validated. Be patient, just a little while longer. If we stay on track, then Winter is when we'll be sailing Freestyle.

Stitch stayed on the ice to practice awhile longer, but then we headed out for coffee. I figured a latte was in order for both of us, so we drove to a nearby Starbuck's.

"Yeah, he'll have a small vanilla latte, whole milk and easy on the temp," I said to the cashier.
His finger hovered over the register. "You mean a kid's steamer."
"No. A latte."
"Decaf?"
"No. Regular."
The finger hovered. "Really?"
"Yeah, it's fine. I'll take a grande hazelnut latte skim."

Skating kids.

Back at the Rink, we watched the PreFreestyle kids warming up, PrepSchool flopping around and I sighed. Soon, soon, soon. Be patient. Stitch was watching. "Should I be on the ice?"
"Not yet. Another ten minutes."

Not yet, indeed. There's a decent ways to go. Stitch doesn't just need to learn the moves, he needs to learn self-discipline and respect. Already he's doing better; he politely raised his hand and asked his Group Coach to be excused to use the restroom. Most kids just take off. He's practicing his skating on his own more, without me bugging him. The Stars help, but there's more self motivation going on, too.

Stitch may have whined about doing Gamma and Beta, but he did them both well. When he took a hard fall in Gamma, he stepped out to compose himself and then went back in. I wasn't needed at all. Yes, Stitch is getting that Hard Knocks Maturity that the bigger skaters have, one fall at a time.

In the meantime, Stitch has requested a Bright Red Practice shirt, in long sleeve so he can forego the jacket. "I want people to be able to see me," he says. Baby, they see you. Trust me.

Why I am a Firm Believer in Standards

I've been mulling over the whole "Standards" issue and how it relates to Pre-Freestyle Skaters. I've been watching and making the casual observation that PreStyle skaters don't get taken very seriously at Home Rink. (Which is odd, because, where do they think Freestyle skaters come from? The sky?)

If getting the Level Patch involves a Formal Test and a Formal Process that is separate from the regular old Group Class test, then that is a clear indication that the Group Class test is not held to Standard. I can hear the chorus now; "Who cares? It's just one foot glides, good is as good enough!"

Wrong! Good Enough Excuses build weak foundational skills, and that cripples the child in the long run.

History lesson: I was a Girl Scout. I took swimming lessons from the time I was eight until I was sixteen. I'm a passable swimmer; I was obviously never going to win any swim meets but I won't drown. I did the basic Polliwog through Fish Group Classes at the Y. There came a year when I wanted to do a Summer Canoeing camp; two weeks prep and four days on the open water in the Chesapeake Bay. Beautiful! The Camp sent a letter back, indicating that my swimming had to pass a certain level before I could be allowed to take it. This makes sense, I had to be of a certain caliber to stand up to the tides and flows of a Big Bay. No Problem, I thought. Fix my breaststroke, learn basic Butterfly, and off I go!

How wrong I was.

I got told by the Y that my Group Classes actually were just "good enough" passing marks, and not actually up to the Standards held by the Girl Scouts. My breaststroke didn't need fixing, it needed a complete overhaul. I spent February to April in the pool with a nasty swimming coach, who jerked my legs out of their sloppy overkick and spent a lot of time sighing at the Herculean task ahead of her. I worked my ass off. I was thirteen. Eventually, it got fixed, but just in the nick of time. The paperwork indicating "pass" had the postdate of the deadline on it. I nearly missed the Camping trip of a lifetime, which I still hold dear memories of. (Ah, the night we roasted wild-caught blue crab, and stinging nettles rising to the surface of the water... magic.)

The point is, me and my mom got lied to for years. When it counted, when the test results really mattered, I had to make up the difference with my own kahunas or quit.

I can see that Skating has a lot of foundational skills here in the PreStyle Levels, and these foundations need to be taken every bit as seriously as a jump. To blow them off now, to let them slide, means that kids will get to their highest level on incompetence, hit a wall, blame themselves and quit. That's bullshit, all of it, but especially the "blame themselves" part.

So, Skating Universe, like it or not, I'm going to be in the stands with your own curricula. I'm not going to let this stuff slide, because I try to not repeat mistakes. Standards matter. The day I came face to face with a series of rapids on the Upper James with a lot of boils and a big fat standing wave that upended our canoe, I was glad I had that nasty swimming coach. While Skating Standards may not save a child's life, they may help preserve their spirit.

(Edit: I remembered later that it wasn't the Scouts' swimming standards, it was the Red Cross Standards. Which has made me think about getting myself recertified in First Aid/CPR.)

Stop Making Sense

I've been musing on Precious and some of the other kids at the rink. I know it's not acceptable to compare my kid to other kids, a lesson I've learned in school when Stitch's stories look as though they were penned by a raven on crack. But I can think, can't I?

Coach teaches another boy, who will be competing Sunday as well. I'll call him Gordon. She talked highly of this kid, stating that his mom was in a local esteemed Ballet company, and that he was at Gamma level in lessons but competing at Alpha level. (*shrug*) I was anxious to meet him.

When I did, of course his mom blew by me like I didn't exist, so whatevs. Then I caught a glimpse of Gordon's skating. Slow. Stumbly. Forward crossovers lack that smooth look.This kid can't be in Gamma. Mom was chatting and grinning at the stumbly look. Coach Y was looking frustrated, and as we left I saw her talking to Gordon's mom with a pained expression. Something was amiss.

Later on I learned from Rink Pal that Coach had a "sit down" with Gordon's mom about speed and practice.

In my experience, Public Ice is a fine way for PreStyle kids to practice. It's cheap, easy to supervise, and not very crowded at the right times. Even if it is populated, what better way to learn stops and sharp turns then by dodging little kids who fall a lot. But I'd never seen Gordon during public skate on weekends. Ever.

Precious is another story. She's becoming quite the viper, and dragging her siblings with her. When Stitch and I attended the Halloween Costume Skate on Sunday, she eyed us from afar before approaching. "Is that REAL blood on his shirt?" she asked me, indicating the red stains from the blood capsule on Stitch's shirt.

"No, it's fake," I replied.

The words, "Probably juice," hadn't even finished crossing her lips before she skated off, never to speak to me again. I know she's a Yankee child of a decidedly Yankee mother, so I can only fault her manners so far, but the attitude that reeks off this child has a stink. Nutso seems convinced that Precious will be bumped to Beta, but even if that does happen it will be a mistake. Sure, Precious can land one foot over the other, but her back is bent and her knees are rigid. Her line is not good. If she were Stitch, I would like him to stay in Alpha to get it right before moving on.

At Ice Show rehearsal, I talked with SkateDad and watched his boy. He's Stitch's age and in Pre-Freestyle. I was interested to see him skate. But as I watched I realized, this kid doesn't have the same confidence on the ice as Stitch. He didn't take off running across the ice as Stitch did, and his stroking included toepicks. His forward crossovers look just like Stitch's; a bit leany with a mild stagger on about the fifth or sixth one. I didn't ask.

I think parents are getting confused by this process. Ultimately, we want our kids to learn to skate well, not attach a label to their level. When a skate parent introduces themselves to me, their first statement is their name. Their second is their kid's name, immediately followed by their skating level. I then have to state my kid's skating level, and thus the totem pole becomes established.

But the names on the levels aren't important. What's important is the skills. No parent would dream of advancing their kids a grade level in school if they didn't have the chops, but here in the skating world, that's acceptable and cool. It's cool because skating is awesome and it's even more awesome to have a kid that can skate. The levels are an instant way for other parents to judge your kids skating and coolness factor in comparison to their own. But it just cripples the kids in the long run.

Let's compare to swimming; no sane swim instructor would pass a kid to the next level if the kid didn't have the chops. The kid would just wind up hurting themselves, and exposes them to a dangerous possibility of drowning. Same with skating.

Ugh.

Newbie Moms like Me

Yesterday was group and private lesson day. Coach Y was barking at Stitch to get on the ice as he was pulling off his guards, and I knew that she'd be milking every second. We're a week away, and while I think things look pretty solid, the coach of course has every right to tweak the program.

She had him run through some forward and backwards crossovers before running through the program five times. Yes, five times. She even ran to get her boom box from the big rink, found an extension cord and ran it to the ice door, where I pushed "play" and Stitch ran through the routine again and again. One mom was sitting on the benches behind me, and asked me what we were doing.

"Is this for a competition?" she asked.

"Uh, yeah," I said. "It's next week, so I guess they're looking to make it good."

"What level is he?"

"He's Alpha 2 now, but competing at Pre-Alpha. It's weird, the day he passes Alpha, he'll be competing at a Pre-Alpha competition. I guess that's just how it falls."

And we talked. Her daughter was the one in the sparkly Princess costume. This mom didn't know if her daughter was ready to compete, but told me about the girl's enthusiasm. "I just want to do one that's no pressure," she said.

"Then do ISI. Everyone gets a medal for showing up, and they encourage the beginners." I told her about the website, the cheap membership, how to pony up to compete, and music. I felt rather wise.

After the private lesson, I cleaned up the extension cords for Coach while she ran to the group class. I got in to find my friend, and we started talking about Thanksgiving and how she needed to come over to teach me how to make Curry Goat.

A voice behind us chimed in. Another newbie mom. We talked about food, apparently how our town has none good in it, and then we inevitably turned to skating. "I found her some skates at a yard sale," the mom looked over wistfully at the Beta Group.

"Which one is yours?"

She indicated Rockstar, the girl who has been bumped up from Pre-Alpha all the way to Beta in one session. Rockstar had been the one in the Moonboot Skates, and now she had a pair of Riedells in bad need of a sharpening.

I queried if Rockstar would be interested in my Pre-Freestyle ice calendar, to get some added practice. Mom turned to me. "There's practice ice?"

I set her up with the same information I gave to the other mom; ISI, competition, coaches, etc.

The other mom put down her notebook and gave a hard look out onto the ice. "You know, sometimes I get the feeling that we aren't wanted here."

"So do I. Ignore it. Everyone started at Pre-Alpha, and they know it."

We laughed, class ended, and we all said our goodbyes. I felt much better, knowing that I wasn't alone in feeling that the parents of higher level skaters can be less than welcoming.

(Oh, and I met Mysteria!!! 'Nother post, 'nother post...)