disappointment

We didn’t go to gong fu tonight. Again.

Last week had a reasonably good excuse, as did the week before.

But tonight was simply “I don’t want to go”.

For over a year now, my daughter and I have been going to gong fu class together. I know it was early to start her, but I kept the pressure off and we had fun each time we went. We didn’t enforce it as a weekly ritual, but offered praise and support each time she wanted to go.

The first several visits, she would last about 20 minutes before whining and saying she couldn’t move anymore. And besides, she had brought plenty of toys in her backpack. I let it be. She was, after all, five, and couldn’t be expected to have such a long attention span. Especially when everyone else is older than her. So she played with her toys or drew pictures and I struggled to keep up with the smoother motions of those much younger than me.

But over more than a year, she has become able to stay for the entire class – and still walk home carrying her own backpack. That’s no mean feat for a tired and bedraggled six-year-old. True, we often celebrate after class with a healthy and nutritious Mac or 7-11 dinner for her, and that may contribute to much of her motivation to attend class at all. But hey, she is a kid after all.

It is basically a kids’ class, though several young adults have remained after coming up through the ranks. A gap of a couple years separates my daughter from the next youngest kid – an eternity at that age.

A gap of a couple decades separates me from the young adults. But I can out-stretch and out-stamina them all. Except the teachers of course. Husband and wife, they both have chin-to-the-toes flexibility (I am getting closer, millimeter by millimeter) and amazing form. One is (inter) nationally known for the Northern Long Fist style. The other is (inter) nationally known for the Southern Fist Style. And so far as I can tell, neither is terrible at the other’s specialty….

My main purpose in joining the class was to do some kind of martial arts activity together with my daughter, but not as her teacher. Nope, we are learning side by side in this class, as I have no background in either of the main arts taught.

From the start, I have harbored no illusions about going deeply into Northern or Southern Fist (though I have always cultivated a secret passion for the Southern Sword [南刀]). The greater part of each class is devoted to stretching and line drills of gong fu basics, both fine with me – intersecting well with and reinforcing my other training without opening up another new art for me to explore.

Learning a few basic sequences together has been fun, as has drilling each other at home. I really love it when she teaches me, repeating the points she just got drilled on the prior week. It is good for me – and she is, I must confess, often right.

All of this is to say that it really hurt tonight when she announced that she did not want to go to gong fu. At the moment it is unclear whether this is a one-time declaration or a permanent cessation. Either way, it leaves me a bit empty this windy Friday night.

(photo from a housing project near the gong fu practice location. desolate as it appears, I wouldn’t mind living there – at least there is plenty of space to practice outdoors)