Coaches as role models

by Jillian @ http://blueshelled.com . May 28, 2011 . 3:46AM

Down at the little baseball diamond, the parents of little league players sit through most weather conditions on steel bleachers that are excruciatingly hot in the summer, freezing cold on those fall and spring evenings and when it rains? They can collect puddles with the best buckets made. We frequently trade stories of our kids, knowing glances, laughs as we yell something to our child and they turn around and glare at us and comments regarding basic social chitchat such as the weather. We are aware when a stranger is in our midst because we have parent-dar that zones in on the abnormal so that we can protect our children.

One morning, during a boiling little league extravaganza that watched us being blown away inning after inning, my stranger-dar went off. An elderly African-American gentleman was sitting and watching the game and he’d make little comments regarding stance and how the children were holding the bat. I smiled to myself as it occurred to me that he was a former coach watching the game and that none of these were his grandchildren. He was there for love of the game.

As I listened to his comments, men came up to him, one after another, with looks on their faces such as one might give a celebrity. Slack-jawed, excited, awed and amazed. “Do you remember me?” They addressed him with such reverence and each of them took the time to sit with him, reminisce, and then tell him how much he meant to them and what they were doing now. Some pointed out their own children in their brightly colored uniforms and, with smiles, let him know that their kids didn’t make the same baseball mistakes they did. No, sir.

What I saw was pure respect for this man. A man who’d coached little league for over 20 years, he’d tell me at another game. Some of his former players are doctors and lawyers and a few played in college. When the game was slow, he’d shake his head and look at me with an impish grin, “Don’t they know a hit is as good as a walk? What are they waiting for?” I laughed and agreed. At this stage in little league, there are few pitches worth hitting, but when they are there, I sure wish they’d go after them, too. The games are an hour and a half long and the parents are there diligently. Show us some action!

He still comes to the ballpark because he loves the games, he loves the kids and when he’s there, people treat him like a celebrity. He made a difference! Not a small difference, a huge difference. For 20 years he was a coach to some special kids who got to have him as a teacher, a role model, a friend, a counselor, a surrogate parent and a cheerleader. He wiped tears, encouraged them, taught them fundamentals and sportsmanship and left a lasting impression on these people that they haven’t forgotten.

They treat him with awe and they respect him. How many of us have adults that we revered as such when we were growing up? That we treat with such honor when we see them? He has at least 3 come up to him every game and he treats every one of them like they are the only one who has ever done it. He still makes them feel special.

I feel special just to be able to watch what he does and how he’s affected them.

How are you making a positive impact on the lives of children around you? Will they revere and respect you in 20 years? If not, what can you do to change it?

Solitude denied

by Jillian @ http://blueshelled.com . August 12, 2010 . 2:22PM

Every now and then I tend to forget that my blog isn’t solely my blog. There are many of the most amazing people I’ve ever met or never met that stick their head onto this little piece of my soul and nibble on whatever I put out there to taste for flavor. Sometimes what is on the plate is delicious and insightful and leaves them happy, and hopeful and better for spending their time searching for nourishment among the many places they could look for that little something extra in their lives…however their lives may be. Sometimes…frankly it’s just leftovers. Some crust. A leftover thought that may have been worth sharing and building upon but something in my life has blocked it from my elaboration or my heartfelt need to push forward upon it and so I lay it on the plate and hope that somewhere they can see that there was love but the love was either so raw that it couldn’t be elaborated upon or it was just…enough.

And sometimes…we don’t need more than that. Sometimes, as people, we just need enough. So for today, I offer you my enough. Each of you makes me smile, think and realize things about myself that I would not otherwise realize. Thank you for enough.

Heartbroken but not lost

by Jillian @ http://blueshelled.com . June 7, 2010 . 10:53PM

The premise of this blog is that life moves on even though circumstance will try to take you down. The last several months have been a challenge, to say the least, and this weekend, in particular, was trying. I’m surrounded by good people, though, and I continue to remind myself that life will continue on even though it feels like everything ends at each particular point in time that I struggle.

I spent some time this evening reflecting and pushing myself out of my comfort zone and letting myself talk to others and be myself again and what I realized is that my struggle is not singular. If I’m having a bad weekend, someone else reading this is struggling as well. I want you to know that even if your heart is breaking, your body is aching, your mind feels lost and you feel fragile…you are not alone and someone cares deeply for you. The things that happen are hard and heart-breaking and stunning, but they are not the end for you.

Continue to grow and love and move forward. I’m going to try to do the same along with you.

Generosity in Children

by Jillian @ http://blueshelled.com . May 22, 2010 . 8:55PM

Often, as adults, it is easy for us to forget how generous in spirit children are when left to their own devises and without the interference of us “well meaning adults.” Our influence upon them can suck the beauty and kindness straight out of those amazing little souls faster than anything I’ve ever seen in my life. Our disapproval, anger, anxiety and upset can shake them to their core and cause them to look upon the world with distrust and unease. It then becomes a place of distraction. A place where everyone is on their own and should take care of themselves instead of looking out for the interest of others. A place where their true goodness is hidden and they lose the innocence and humanity that they seem to have from such a very young age, instinctually.

However, it flickers. Oh, how it flickers. Like a flame just looking for a little encouragement to grow, it flickers and sparks and waits for the opportunity to shine. Unlike many adults, children don’t necessarily need to shine in front of others or with the purpose of recognition, or even allow their flame to grow at all. Sometimes, they just flame away without even thinking about it and move on. Such simple love and kindness.

I’ve seen this happen repeatedly in my life. Often during my time with my son and his friends and during my time in the school system. A few weeks ago, I saw it during a warm evening at the ballpark.

I was standing in line for one of the forty or so gatorades I buy every year at the concession stand when I saw him: the blonde little boy in front of me who was patiently waiting his turn. He couldn’t have been more than 8, at most, and was clutching three dollars. It was a school night and his eyes looked tired and sad. It was approaching 9 and he must have been at one of the early games and stayed for a sibling game.

I saw his eyes scan the menu. Hamburgers, Chicken (our stand serves Chik-fil-a!), hot dogs, french fries, sodas, energy drinks and many various candies. His little blonde head nodded slightly downward as he looked at the canisters in the front of the stand. Air heads, $0.25. Ring pops, $0.75. Tips for good service, please. Condiments. Napkins. Forks.

He looked carefully back to the menu and then to the canisters again and softly said, “French Fries, please.” The boy at the counter said, “Sure, kid. Anything else?” The little boy looked down at the canisters again, looking hard at the ring pops, and I saw him swallow. “No, no thank you.” He handed the concession stand worker his two dollars and waited for his french fries. They came promptly. He smiled, said thank you and deposited his $1 in the tip canister.

Generosity of spirit can be found in the most unexpected places. I am a lucky woman to find it in so many.

Emotions vs. Logic

by Jillian @ http://blueshelled.com . September 21, 2009 . 10:06AM

When the people we love are in trouble, we react quickly and emotionally. We don’t always step back and assess the situation with a calm head. There isn’t always time to do so. I’ve watched Intervention and some of the other shows that highlight families in crisis, and the general first reaction that people have when their loved one objects to help is to bow down to tears and cave. It’s one of the reasons that people usually have some kind of objective facilitator who helps with those kind of things and keeps everyone on track.

When AJ had his Kentucky incident, I didn’t think. I smacked Leon to get his attention and then I ran. I haven’t ran in years, but I ran to him. I couldn’t help him or make him better, but he needed me and I needed to be with him.

When the people we love are in trouble, we react quickly and emotionally.

Recently, I was watching footage of the Dallas motorcade with JFK and Jackie and I reacted to it rather strongly. Warning: Graphic language coming.

I’ve probably watched the grainy footage from Dallas 100 times in my 30 years. I’ve noticed many things about it and have looked at it from various mental angles. However, this particular time, when I watched it, what kept coming back to me was that Jackie reacted quickly and instinctively to keep Jack safe. I have no idea what the state of their marriage was. By all accounts, it was not the most functional, but whose is? However, she recovers from shock quickly and scrambles to the back of a moving car to grab pieces of his brain matter and then pulls him down to keep him safe.

Brain matter isn’t like a finger or a toe. You can’t sew it back on. Once Jack was hit and it was exposed, it was gone. He was gone.

When the people we love are in trouble, we react quickly and emotionally.

It wasn’t rational to scramble across a moving vehicle when bullets were flying around her, but love motivates people to do things they wouldn’t otherwise do. It gives us strength to do things that we don’t know we can.

I’m in awe of its power. Always and completely.