Transferable Skills…of Death!

There are two ways to turn an extracurricular or hobby into a chore: make it competitive, or do it as part of a job. Myself, I never bought into the idea that if you do something you love, you’ll never work a day in your life. Bullshit. Once something becomes a critical source of revenue, failure can no longer be an option. And sometimes I just want to do something for fun. I don’t want to compare my performance to every single person out there who also participates in the same activity.

And at the school level especially, it can quickly become a personal confidence-killer.

So it was that the kid lost interest in music. Because in the affluent Centerville, there’s always a Korean kid forced into practicing to exhaustion on threats of violence. Even during my shitty Lubbock public education there was that kid: the quiet, broken shell. He played multiple instruments and was always on 1st clarinet with kids 2 years his senior, and solved every math problem on the board. Had he played trumpet, I would have given up, too.

But now the kid is in archery. And she’s pretty good, and enjoys it. She doesn’t have to practice to the point of misery just to keep up, or be forced to compete.

And from my viewpoint, I say: when the world ends, the zombies won’t care that she can play the violin, but they will care when she can shoot them in the head.

Maybe a goofy way to make the point, but I’ve always viewed martial skills as having more practical application beyond the classroom anyway. And by “classroom” I mean the academy, because nothing that involves a weapon will ever be integrated into the American school system. No – taxes should be spent on learning sportsball.

My grievances with the Karen-catering school system aside, here’s the kid completing her introductory training.

And going freestyle.

And as a dad who also enjoys the sport, I’m glad I can take some interest finally in her activities. We might even have something to bond with now! So long as she can stand being seen in public with her dad. I’d better start practicing.

–Simon