Risk-Taker

I work at an IB (International Baccalaureate) school, and there are Learner Profile Traits we encourage in our students. One of these traits is to be a risk-taker.

Not risk-taking like parachuting out of an airplane (though, if you want to do that, who am I to stop you?), but the simple act of doing something knowing you might just fail at it. Failure, as we all know, is but one step on the road to success.

As a child I was never athletic. I got A's in PE because I dressed every day and did what I was asked to do--not with a ton of confidence, but I did it. I imagine my PE teachers thought me a sweet, pleasant kid who just wasn't athletically gifted. Still, I gamely jogged part of my 15-minute mile, and I did my best to learn the various games we were taught. I liked basketball and flag football.

Volleyball, however, was a particularly torturous experience for me.

It started in 7th grade, as I quickly realized I was more likely to freeze in fear when the ball came my way than I was to hit it. Or I'd move to hit it and miss by a mile. I couldn't serve the ball anywhere near the net, but instead, managed a weak little bump that went about ten feet and hit the ground. I can still see the eyerolls and hear the mutterings of my classmates. Middle school is cruel.

It wasn't any better in 8th grade. By 9th grade, I could kind of hide my ineptitude at volleyball better, and that was my last year of formal PE. Because I was in Marching Band, I took two summer school sessions of PE to meet my requirement, and that was that. I was a proud musical nerd...and I would never have to play volleyball again.

Fast-forward...many...years, and here I am. I'm a lot more athletic now, at 40, than I ever was as a kid. I've run three half marathons, I can lift weights, and I can hold my own with a punching bag. I like getting sweaty. So when the PE teacher at my school asked at a recent staff meeting if anyone might be interested in being on a staff volleyball team to play staff teams from other schools in our district, I said...yes.

Yes?

Yes.

I laid it out for him: I haven't played in years, and when I did last play, I was terrible and I hated it. But I have grown and changed by light-years since then, and if there's going to be a staff volleyball team, well, I want to be part of it.

I missed last week because I had an appointment, so today was my first game. I arrived at the other school in running leggings and my trusty Mizunos, and figured I'd just give it my best and call it a day.

I never expected to...enjoy it?

Look, miracles are rare. I still bumbled and I missed a few times when the ball came towards me. My serve was much better than it ever was in my younger days (thank you, biceps) but still not anywhere near going over the net. Most of the time I let our stronger team members take it while I bounced around cheering my teammates on. "Great save, Chrystal!" "Oooh, nice one, Paul!" And even as I missed, or served clumsily, my teammates, those awesome people I am privileged to call my colleagues, would cheer me on and offer encouragement. No eyes rolled. No lips muttered.

And yet, there was this one moment, when the ball came my way and there was no bouncing sideways to let Paul or Adrian go for it. That ball had my name on it, and I had no choice but to bend my knees, stick my arms out, and clasp my hands together. I figured I'd at least keep it from hitting the ground, and another teammate would give it some better air. I mean, up until now, I'd been wildly hitting it as I could and watching it sail in the opposite direction I'd intended.

So I gamely set myself up. The ball made contact with my clasped hands. I swung it upward...

...and into a perfect arc that sailed over the net with room to spare.

If I'm going to tell my students to be risk-takers, I've got to walk the walk myself. Today, I did that, volunteering to play a game that I basically spent years of my life hating because of bad memories. I wasn't by any stretch of the imagination a strong player, but halfway through our second game, I found myself, mid-court, watching the ball sail around, and I realized I was having fun.