- applauding growth

At local events one encounters a huge variety of participants. When I visit a competition to watch my daughter skate my role is mostly to cheer for these other skaters. When the little kids hit the ice -- the ones that are six through eight -- they have only been competing for maybe two years. While their parents, grandparents, and extended family cheer in the stands, they are still intently working on their own self-esteem. No matter the quality of their performance, once they finish I gently clap courteously.

Even at starting levels I can tell which kids have natural ability, which are just skating for diversion, and who is on the ice because their parents want them to be involved in sports. Of the twenty tots skating a local competition one or two will clearly stand out as passionate. They may not yet have skills, balance, or grace, yet you can still see they have the heart to practice seriously and to study the art. These are the kids that extend a bit beyond their natural capabilities, when they fall they get right back up and continue onward. These are the tikes that garner my heartiest applause.

The middle age group -- kids nine through eleven -- are an interesting bunch to watch, and they skate all over the map. Some are beginners who struggle with their balance or edge work. Many have already been skating for five or six years and are just now reaching their point of frustration. Both the late starters and the frustrated earn my courteous applause. This is also the age though where several of the skaters bloom with their grace and class. Some display an inkling of audience awareness, or might use their hands to express feelings. It is quite clear that a select few of these skaters actually "have it". Even without a firm set of jumping skills, these skaters with class or grace merit my hearty applause.

This is also the age where most skaters develop some semblance of physical maturity: their bodily proportions approach the components they will manage for the remainder of their craft. This can be a rather painful realization; ineffective leg muscles hinder a lanky eleven-year-old boy from progressing to nationals (no matter how hard he practices). I still clap enthusiastically for the teenage skaters with challenging bodies and lots of heart, even though I sense they will only attain the mediocrity of where their bodies leave them stranded.

Very rarely though you spot the nine, ten, or eleven year old that has the appropriate skating body matched with blooming grace or class. It is as plain as day that the skater has national "potential." I expect more from them -- clearly, if they have the native ability and talent, I want to see that they have devoted enough practice to their balance, expressiveness, and skill, and that they have honed their craft. I judge them more harshly because I know that in their future they will face a tougher appraisal of their skating. When they nail a challenging element though I will often compliment them off-ice. "Hey, that was a great toe loop." They'll say thanks and be proud that a total stranger appreciated their efforts.

Then we get the group of the serious older skaters, twelve and above. In a local competition you see a definitive split in talent: the kids either skate for fun, or are daily skaters striving for a national rating. I am courteous to those skating for fun, but the committed regulars receive my especially supportive scrutiny. I am judgmental in a way that aims to improve their execution. There's an ongoing mental communication with these serious skaters -- that was a nicely centered spin, that was an especially expressive layback. If I see them off-ice I will compliment them with a nod and a smile. At this level they know what they are doing and tend to be overly self-critical against their adversaries; my role is to boost their self esteem in a way that doesn't swell their head.

Being a conscientious skate parent is a lot of work. The trick is to keep the kids actively engaged in the sport in a neutral-buoyancy fashion. It's about the humble acceptance of a quiet, non-dramatic, and equaniminous glamour.