Land of the Frontside Fakies

I'm not going to lie, my heart is not really in it singing "Happy Birthday" to America this year. However, having my daughter's birthday overlapping with America's birthday does help restore my faith in the next generation. America's future feels a lot brighter after watching brave 5-10-year-olds this past Saturday. Fearless faces under helmets and strong tiny limbs strapped in Velcro pads, going downhill on a mysterious deck on four wheels.

For my daughter's birthday, we rented out an indoor skatepark. It seemed like an amazing idea, having this 6,900 square-foot indoor skatepark all to ourselves, sharing Noemie's underground passion with her classmates: skateboarding. A two-hour party, early in the day, with a half-hour lesson. I don't have to host a thing at my house, think of any activities, or feed them all day. THIS IS GREAT. Except when you see 18 bobbleheads roll onto a massive obstacle course in loose pads and droopy helmets, and parents running after them in absolute terror. I definitely started to second guess if this actually was "great." This gorgeous skating oasis now looked like a death trap of high ledges, sharp corners, quarter pipes, slippery rails, vertical walls/CLIFFS for them to break themselves on. Don't worry, I did the mature thing: I hid. Closed my eyes ... "tell me when it's over."

I didn't actually hide, but I did suddenly consume myself with lots of things I had to do on the sidelines. Like decorating concrete walls and walking around telling people already holding plates of food that there's food. The good news is no child or parent was harmed during the 2-hour birthday party. There were obviously nail-biting moms and some hard falls and tears, but they all survived. In fact, they didn't just survive; they were energized. They left walking a little taller and more sure-footed, both goofy and regular.

The arc was so incredible to witness. Nervous but determined children rolling out into the unknown. Parents chasing after them, assuring their kids it was going to be okay when they themselves didn't know if it was going to be okay. First attempt to skate - the board flew forward while the kid propelled backward, falling so hard on their tailbone their loose teeth rattled. Parents scooped them up and carried them out of the park before they became roadkill, both of them vowing to never skateboard EVER AGAIN. Then a couple of minutes would go by and oh look! They're back at it. Usually this time it was just the kid (parent needs more time to recover). Because even though the fall was hard, after the tears dried, they realized it was also fun. The skatepark was also starting to find its rhythm. Lord of the Flies was becoming a somewhat organized, kind of fun, commune on wheels. Noemie was running around giving nervous classmates hands to guide them down ramps. Parents were starting to relax, (I poured them wine) and hover less. Pro skaters and coaches from Noemie's camp came by to skate beside them and show them something to work towards. By the end, the same kids that had to be convinced to get on a board, wouldn't get off!

I still went home pretty sure I had lost all my school parent friends, which I hardly had any to begin with. However, that night, me and my husband's phones were lighting up. Parents were telling us their kids couldn't stop talking about how fun it was, they wanted to do it more, and they had been practicing since they got home, asking, "Where do they sign up?" A phone call I never received after Noemie's previous piñata and splash pad birthday parties. It goes to show we all crave conquering fears over complacency, learning something new over laying low, and proud bruises over pretty birthday cakes.

This week, let's all tap into the resilience of a skater. Not the pro skaters, but these brave newbies (and their nervous mamas!). Let's strive for the arc they experience: going into the unknown, nervous but determined, telling yourself it's going to be okay even if you don't know if it's going to be okay. Experiencing the inevitable fall, only to get back up and try again. Because whether it's feeling challenged in the studio, in our personal lives, or how we process what's happening in this country, stamina is going to persevere. If Confucius is right, "Our greatest glory is not in never falling, but in rising every time we fall," then I feel pretty confident in our next generation. They do not give up easily. They face uncertainty with a (kind of) tight helmet and a brave (brave enough) face. They also know hyper-colored-glow-in-the-dark-space-kitty-skating parties don't come around that often.

Excited to make your bodies sweat, smile, and instead of living in dread...shred.

XO,

Celeste