Child's Play

It has been almost three full months now since I started taking to the ice as an assistant hockey coach - and so far I can't say I'm disappointed. Children are a curious thing, in that there is so much we can learn from working from them. Now, I can't claim that I have a lot of experience with kids in a teaching capacity, but in such a short time I've already learned a great deal. Since I have an interest in doing some work down the road in the TESL industry, it is valuable to me to be as perceptive as possible.

When we are kids, we try so hard to have our opinions and ideas listened to, yet as soon as we become validated adults we are quick to ignore and downplay the voices of the youth. The children that I coach are young enough that they still remain almost completely unbiased by society. The advantage of this is that a lot of the behaviour and ideas exhibited from them come out unfiltered and raw. With this in mind, I would like to take the time to share some of the thoughts and insights I have garnered through my time spent coaching six-year olds:


Children are indestructable.
Don't take this the wrong way. I'm by no means telling you to fight children or blow them up - yet in a weird way, kids are a lot tougher than their adult counterparts. I'm not sure if it's because they are so close to the ground, or that often they are wearing a lot of padded equipment, but some of the collisions and hits I've seen these little kids shake off is incredible.

This is important to keep in mind. In a world that seems to be coming increasingly more nerf-like and padded, sometimes telling them to "walk it off" is still the best way to deal with a crying child. If a kid is crying, I'll ask them if they'll live. The answer is usually yes.


Children want to be listened to.
This is something I learned the value of first hand. There is a paticular kid that comes out to practice who is often distracted and unresponsive. Through the first few weeks I found this quite annoying - as he was often skating in circles and trying to tell me things while I was making an attempt at running a drill. With not much else working, I finally started listening to what he was trying to tell me. He was more than obliged to tell me about the hole in his glove and how he had some how managed to flip his mouth guard to have it rest uncomfortably over his bottom teeth.

Amazingly enough, the simple act of saying something so basic as "oh yeah?" or demonstrating how the palm on my hockey gloves are a ravaged tribute to their former glory was enough to make him a little more respondant. I listened to him, so he would listen to me.


Different things motivate different kids differently. (The redudancy was implied!)
Although it seems pretty self explanitory - the ability to be perceptive enough to figure out how to motivate individual kids is a tough job. How a kid responds to what you ask them to do is completely context dependant. Some kids want to be the best, no exceptions - and with these kids you have to make things seem inherently competitve. "I bet you can do the drill faster than every other kid!". Other children simply want to do something to the best of their abilities, and instead you would say "you did this well last time, lets try and do it even better!".

Then of course, there are my favourite kind that just want that sense of belonging. They want to feel like they are part of that group, and have the chance to participate with their peers. These are perhaps the easiest to motivate, as they seem to be at their peak just being there. I have over simplified, of course, but the point has been made - trying to figure out how to individually motivate a crowd of children on skates can be a daunting task.


Sometimes children are ridiculous.
This is one of the truest things I have ever said. This is neither good or bad, it just simply is (allbeit frustrating at times). I've heard these kids say things that are hilarious, and often shouldn't be encouraged, and yet can not refrain from laughing. During a paticular practice, I was promptly informed by one of the players that the drill we were doing was 'poo'. To reiterate the point so that I firmly understood his stance on the task at hand, he began spelling it out to me in song: "P-O-O!". How do you not laugh? Yet for the integrity of the drill and the practice as a whole, I can't encourage it - so I have to skate away smiling, and hope they didn't see me crack.

I've been growled at and hissed at, slashed in the back of skates. I've been told very firmly that I "am going down, punk" and whole heartedly convinced that a line of kids had come down with something paticularily potent - as they all seemed to have broken out into uncontrollable wiggles, not a single one among them able to stand still.

Conversley I have been told I was their favourite coach, told I was loved, and attack hugged while not paying attention. When the bad is good and the good is pretty good, then I consider myself fairly lucky to have this oppurtunity to coach.

I have habits as bad as the kids.
I suppose out of all the insights, this may be the most important one for me. It is easy when you're working with kids to assume yourself the infallible dictator. This is helped along by the fact that with skates I stand a good 6'2, and thus feel like an island in the sea when surrounded by six-year-olds.

Thus, it can inherently difficult to stop and asess whether the way in which you are trying to run a drill could be improved or altered. If one kid isn't figureing out the drill then it may be that he hasn't payed much attention - but if all of them are confused, then you're probably to blame.

That said, here are some examples of mine:

- I say 'guys' way too much. This isn't a terrible problem, but a lot like 'um' during public speaking, if I took the time to count the usage, it would probably be outrageous.

- I forget the necessity of demonstration. Even though I am actually a visual learner, I often forget that I can't just talk at a mob of wide-eyed faces and expect them to know what they're going to do.

- Sometimes I talk to loud / quiet for a given situation. I can't expect to talk in an indoor voice and have all the kids hear me. Conversely I have to remember not to yell in an opposite situation. Yelling is sometimes necessary, but I don't think anyone wants to play the role of the scary coach.



It is important to remember that children are human. As a result, they are every bit as smart and intuitive as any adult. It is scary how fast they understand when a certain drill or lesson isn't going correctly, or if the teacher / coach doesn't know how to handle a situation.

I think for that reason, working with kids requires a baseline ability to bluff - looking in control even if you have no idea what is going on. I'm still working on this part of my repertoire, but it gets a little easier every time. As excited as I am for my upcoming trip to Africa (<---it's a link), I do regret that I will be unable to continue working with these kids into the new year. As much as I've taught them in the basics of hockey, they've returned it ten fold in helping me learn how to get the most out of them.

That is all for now,

Much love,

Sean

Learn the Spectrum

I would like to dedicate this post to Christopher Luke Zweerman. Although I didn't know him as well as others, our interactions were always friendly and jovial. He liked to joke, have fun, and could stop a puck or two if you got him in equipment. RIP, Chris, you'll be missed.

The main content of this post was originally found at the very end of my previous one. However, it never really flowed with the content of that last blog and for obvious reasons seemed like a disjointed tac-on. Thus, with much deliberation, I have decided to move it here on its own. Yet, as not to completely make this a stale post, and reward those who are here that read 'essentially' this last time - I've included a limited edition, crudely drawn, photo of excellence at the bottom.

We begin,

In a very cliche way, I've recently become a little more introspective than normal. I believe it's a direct consequence of living through this 'empty' period of time before a great adventure. I don't know how to directly explain what I mean by this, so I will explain it the best I can by using an example.

About two weeks ago I went out for a walk in the rain. This was before daylights savings time had kicked in, so when I left around six, the sun was still in the sky (allbeit hovering omniously close to the horizon). As I was trudging through a muddy field in my rubber boots, I was by chance, fortunate enough to be heading west.

What I saw may have been one of the most unexpected, most beautiful things I've ever seen. As the sun was setting on that rainy evening, it was casting a crimson red back-glow to the thin grey cloud cover of the horizon, tapering to a blazing orange where the sky met the ground. The effect, in essence, was a sky on fire. It honestly looked as if someone had taken a match to a kerosene rag and stuck it to the heavens. In that moment, as I stood alone, I was left wondering if I could truly be the only one taking the time to appreciate this spectacle.

Sometimes you are left asking yourself: is this reality mine, and mine alone? Honestly, I don't think it can be. Yet, that is the problem when you are forced to examine your own mind: some of the conclusions you reach are not always what you would expect.

It is a sad thought to believe that the full glory of the moment was wasted on a single person. Therefore, instead, I will approach it with the mindset that I was lucky enough to witness it - and the honour was all mine.

Love the little things, even if they seem so inconsequential at the time; you never know when you will have the chance again.

RIP Chris.



Now as promised, here is a picture, hand drawn by me. I used all the materials at my disposal to really set the mood, and make it as realistic as possible. Furthermore, it's educational - so you can show it to your kids in the future, and they'll know... what alcohol does to your brain.




Now that's what I call shading!

Thanks for Reading,

Much Love,

Sean

A Date With Africa

I've never really cared for this month. November is one of those inbetweener months where nothing really happens, much like May (or February before family day rolled in). However, what May has going for it, that November can never boast, is a warming of the air and gradually increasing sunlight. In contrast, November assaults me with a chill and a thin layer of frost on my windshield come sun up. There are no holidays in it, and the only real event is day lights savings time. I'll never appreciate any mechanism that shortens my exposure to the sun.

That said, I'm in a pretty positive mood these days. The past couple weeks have gone by without any real definitive moment - but contained a lightness of mind that I havn't experienced in a while. I guess the main reason is that shortly before Halloween I gave my notice of leave. At that exact moment the job no longer became who I was, but instead a transition step towards who I am becoming. I am still going about my job with a smile until the end of the year, but no longer is it my future as well as my present.

Furthermore, I've just started waking in the morning with the apprehension that comes when something big is looming on the horizon. I said this once in a previous post, but I find the fear of the unknown exhilerating. I literally just got off the phone with my sister, and it seems that we finally have agreed on a route. With our tickets likely being booked within the next day or so, I'll share our planned iternerary with you now.

During the first week of January we will be departing from Toronto towards Kigali, Rwanda. Since we're cheap, and will sacrafice our comfort to save a dime, our flight over contains a couple of stops: Chicago and Brussells. Unfortunately it sounds like out time in Belgium will be limited, which really is a shame.

Once in Kigali we will be picked up and be taken to our campsite in the Mgahinga National Park of Uganda; Visas will be grabbed at the border as we pass through. Mgahinga will be where we spend the majority of our time in Africa.


Youtube Video of Mgahinga National Park
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=F7ivtRSKmjU&feature=player_embedded

While there, our main objective will be to observe and record data pretaining to the Golden Monkey populations there. The Golden Monkeys are an old world monkey that are endemic to this part of Africa. If you google image search them you will most likely come up with pictures of furry blue-faced beasts, that are native of Asia. The ones we are working with are actually Guenons, a type of primate, which have forward facing eyes and opposable thumbs.



The Monkeys have an untapped tourist potential, and require further human habituation to make them more attractice to visitors. With tourism will come government protection of its assets, and then maybe this endagered species will stand a better chance going forward.


On top of that, some time will be spent in the schools of the local community, working with the children and teaching the importance of conservation. Extra days of the week can be used at my discretion, and I am sincerely hoping that I can garner some experience working with the field vetrinarians.

Furthermore, from the sounds of it, our permanent residence while working there will be in the same area that all the tourists use as they come. This means that on a daily basis I will be able to intercept, meet, and talk new people. Meeting new people on any given day can be kind of a mediocre experience, but something about new people while traveling is more addictive than heroin. Sweet!

Three months after arriving in Uganda we will take our leave of the jungle and head north to the capital of Uganda: Kampala, situated on the north-west end of Lake Victoria. If Jessica hasn't lied to me, then from here we'll be able to do some tours of the Nile River via kick ass white water rafting.

Kampala Tourist Website
http://www.backpackers.co.ug/rafting.html


From Kampala, we plan to work our way down the east coast of Victoria into northern Tanzania, which boasts such sights as the Serengeti national park, ngorongoro crater, and my prized jewel: Mount Kilimanjaro. We are climbing that bastard. Any mountain that boasts the transition of 7 different ecosystems as you climb sounds amazing. Not to mention that after doing the Inca Trail, few things can make you feel as mentally and physically accomplished as a mountain climb. I destroyed the Inca trail, this is next.

Another borrowed youtube video:


After that we're heading to the coast, and the Indian Ocean. I've had the pleasure of putting my foot in the Atlantic and Pacific, but I won't miss the chance to cross a third from the list. From the coast we will fly out of Tanzania and into the last country on our trip: Egypt. Our plans for Egypt arn't in any way finite, but it sounds like visas are obtainable upon landing, and we'll have a good week or two to kill once there. Recent communications with friends have led me to believe that it is awesome.

And, that is it. Pretty awful, right? I am so excited!

Once again I've written too much, and as a result I will end here. I would rather bring you a lot of good thoughts, instead of little bits of tripe daily - so I will use that as an excuse for my infrequency.

Thanks for reading, much love,

Sean