I had no idea if this ploy was going to work, but I figured
it was worth a try. Two of the girls skied with me the previous week, as they
participated in one of the weekly community lesson programs for the children in
the towns near the resort. They knew each other from school and rode together
on the first chair ride. However, I also knew both were willing to ride with
other kids as they had the previous week. The other two girls who rode together
first run, met for the first time as we waited in line to ride the lift and each
of them realized neither had a partner yet.
When our class started, N, the fifth member of the group,
was the only student I knew was going to be with me. Her mom had pulled me
aside to make sure I would be her instructor.
“N has Asperger’s and can be challenging. She will only take
lessons from a female instructor,” she said, as N stood apart from the rest of
the group.
When the supervisor and I assured mom N could come with me,
N joined the group of ten students that the other male instructor and I would
be splitting into two classes. N quickly found an eight-year-old as a lift
partner for the first lift ride. At the beginning of the first run, I watched
the group ski to determine how to split them into two classes. Five girls,
all eleven- and twelve-years-old including N, had equal skills. I had my group.
We took our first run down to the Highlands and the other
four girls paired up. I asked N if she would ride with me. She agreed. After
that first run, I hoped I could integrate the five individuals into a group.
Thus my tactic of asking who was stuck riding with me as we headed up for our
next run.
O, one of the girls staying at the resort, seemed to catch
on quickly and said, “Oh, I guess I could ride with you.”
We had a nice ride up the lift. I learned about her family.
Her brother was two years younger and her sister was nine years younger than
her. I told O my family had been just the same when I was growing up.
“Our family is always trying to find a family that has the
same age differences and we never do,” she said excitedly.
It seemed to make her feel better that I had once been a
twelve-year-old with a three-year-old sister.
At the top of the run, I turned my attention to the girls’
skiing. My morning had been pretty hectic with another instructor and me
splitting a group of nineteen kids. My class of nine kids, aged six to nine, primarily wanted to play in the terrain park. The park became the reward for
practicing whatever balance exercise I wanted them to try. Now I had to switch
gears.
These five were on the cusp between girls and women. We took
a run in the park and I gave them some skills to work on. We reached the
bottom.
“I’m riding with N this run,” said O.
“I GUESS I can ride with Deb,” laughed M, one of the local
girls.
On this lift ride I learned all about M’s parents divorcing
when she was three, she and her mom living in two states and five towns, her
step-brother, step-sister and her brother, who lived with their dad.
“That’s life,” she said very matter-of-factly, with wisdom
far beyond her years, as she shared the stories of her somewhat chaotic life
living with relatives before her mother re-married. She also shared that she had been in Level Three and Four
for three years and she really wanted to make it to Level Five and ski the
upper mountain the next year. When M shared this with me, it woke me up. I had been trying to switch gears from little kids to almost
adolescents on the last run. M’s request for help accomplishing a goal hit
home.
“M needs the skills to move up a level,” I thought. “And I
think N will rise to the level I teach.”
Next run, I really worked the girls. And they all rose to
the occasion. They worked just as hard as I was willing to make them work. A
couple of them, including N, took some pretty good falls as they pushed beyond
their comfort zone learning new skills. They all helped each other up
and put each other back together again and encouraged each other as they
started to figure it out.
And then CLICK! Each of them started making better turns
then they were at the beginning of the class. And they could tell.
Yes, I had the knowledge, skiing and teaching skills developed over decades to help them get
there. However, I learned as much if not more than they did, about both life
and skiing, in those two hours. After years of ski teaching, I was once again
reminded that the teacher often learns as much, if not more, than the students. I headed into
the “shop” to put away my gear and wait for a friend who was teaching on the
upper mountain.
While I waited, I picked up the October 2012 issue of
Freeskier. (www.freeskier.com) This
issue was dedicated to Sarah Burke, Canadian, freeskiing pioneer, six-time
Winter X Games gold medalist, who successfully lobbied the International
Olympic Committee to include women’s halfpipe in the 2014 Olympics. Sarah
passed away January 19, 2012 from injuries suffered during a training accident.
I don’t think it’s a coincidence that I picked up that
magazine after my great day of teaching five young women to take their skiing
to another level. Sarah lives on in every young girl and young woman, working
to take their sports skills to another level.
And I think Sarah probably whispered in my ear, “Come on,
Deb, give them your very best lesson you know how to give. They deserve nothing
less.”
Thanks, Sarah. You’re right.
Learn more about Sarah, and donate to the Sarah Burke
Foundation here: www.sarahburkefoundation.com
