Lent Day 26: Proud Papa, Part 2

Another daily grind (which is fast becoming Dilbertville), another day ending pleasantly with a "proud papa" moment.


But instead of a serene church it was noisy dojo full of sweaty judo players, practicing and preparing for their promotions exams.

Noah was up for his green belt, long overdue since his last promotion to orange belt.  Twelve is a tough age for commitment... come to think of it, twelve is a tough age for a lot of things.  Prior to last year, Noah was pretty gung ho about judo, even going to a Nationals Junior Tournament in Indianapolis a couple of summers ago.  But after taking last summer off he had the toughest time regaining momentum.

Long story short, he passed.  He didn't ace the exam, and in fact if he had taken that exam from people who didn't know him, he likely would have failed.  But his panelists have seen what he can do, and how hard he has practiced, and part of judo philosophy is to help everyone learn and to mutually benefit each other.  They passed him partially on his performance tonight but also on what he's done over the years.

The truth is, he didn't test well.  I cringed throughout the exam.  I had helped him with his judo terms in English and Japanese this past week, and couldn't believe how much he struggled with his recall.  He was so tentative at everything.  He was, as my dad likes to say, suffering from "choke-ilitis," a term I've always hated.

I felt so helpless there.  I knew that he knew the test material; it was stuff he could do in his sleep.  But maybe that was the problem:  he was wide awake and clearly suffering from nerves.  He couldn't relax enough to let his mind work, even with coaxing from his teachers.   It was stage fright on a grand scale.

But it wasn't me being tested.  Noah was being given an oral exam, which by the way is something most people never take, plus having to demonstrate competency of the physical moves on a guy who was almost double his weight.  On top of having a panel of three black belt teachers, he had to do everything in front of a large group of students -- both his juvenile classmates, plus folks from the adult class.  Oh yes, and all the parents.

His sensei, one of the kindest, most nurturing and yet toughest teachers I know, quickly recognized that Noah was nervous, and even himself had admitted to being nauseous every time he had taken a promotion exam during his long judo career.  Later Noah admitted to feeling the same way all day, the day before spring break began.

All this being said, I wonder how well any of us would if put in a similar situation.  To be cross-examined by a panel of elders who change their questioning based on your performance throughout the exam.  And then to do all of that in front of an audience.  Absolutely daunting.

I think we all face moments similar to that:  moments of truth, although perhaps not so dramatically.  Those are the times that test one's character, and sometimes they're so private that no one else even notices the challenge or response. 

I've been trying to think of how old I was when undergoing something similar to Noah's exam tonight, but I'm pretty sure I've never done it.  I've faced many tests before but have always had the luxury of time and privacy; Noah was in the spotlight for nearly 10 minutes.  It was like he was on trial.

His sensei had kind words for Noah in qualifying tonight's results and coaching him for his next exam.  Sensei Dave said that the judo tests serve people well throughout life:  "taking a promotions exam in judo makes going to a job interview in front of a bunch of grumpy old men seem like a piece of cake."

So tonight there's a different kind of fatherly pride, not so much about the outward accomplishment of earning a green belt, but rather the response to challenge and adversity during times of trial, and commitment to self-improvement over the coming months.  (Plus there's the satisfaction of having Noah participating in such a developmentally-focused martial arts school.)

Again, a "proud papa" moment that's also humbling in the blessing of having Noah in my life.