In which Liam finds his flow..

Yesterday we joined a few other homeschool families for skiing at our great little Camden Snowbowl. The Snowbowl hosts 4th grade classes during the school day, and many schools join in the group program afterschool which offers discounted tickets, rentals, and lessons to students and their families. In the past, we have taken part with the school; this year we're going on Wednesday mornings as part of the homeschool group.

Liam took up snowboarding the winter he was 4; we put Raelin on skis when she was 3. She's been skiing all over the mountain for a couple of years, while Liam has been paying his dues on the little MiteyMite, taking the tow up a gentle slope and trying to hone some snowboarding skills before heading up the mountain.

The progress from his first to second winter was huge- last year you could see how much more confident and strong he was in his body. I felt pretty sure that this was the year that he would make it onto the lift. Of course, I planned to sign him up for a lesson. The morning we arrived, he refused the lesson. What? What do you mean, no lesson? To me, he needed more instruction on his turns, being able to slow down and move around other skiers. And stopping- important stuff. But nope. He absolutely did not want a lesson. Er, uh, ok. Fine. No lesson. I didn't want to make a scene, and I thought, hey- maybe he'll realize himself that he could use a lesson.

I could sense a place in myself of needing to let go and trust him to make his own decision. But of course, I still thought that what he would experience would deliver him to acquiesce to my own opinion: you need to be taught. As I watched him during the morning, his progress was obvious. He fell a lot, got right back up, was able to maneuver around obstacles and cruise in control to the tow line.
Ok, fine, i was happy. But surely... before he went up on the lift, he would need a lesson?

This week, we arrived and my intention was to work on my own snowboarding with Liam on the MiteyMite, but a strained wrist relegated me to skis. Liam was fine to do his MiteyMite laps on his own, so I took the lift up with Raelin to ski down. As I watched a beginner lesson of snowboarders on the hill and skied the terrain myself I thought... I think he might be ready to do this! Surely if he took a lesson, an instructor could give him just a few pointers and he'd be fine! I greeted Liam at the bottom and shared my thought.
What do you think, Liam? You ready to go up?
Yeah!
Ok, well, how about next week we get you a lesson and I bet the instructor will bring you up.
No, i want to go today.
Look, Liam, you've gotten much better, but I really think that you need an instructor... I'm not a           snowboarder...I don't think I can give you the best tips as you come down.
I don't care, I want to go today.

At this point, I thought, what's the worst that can happen? He scooches down on his butt? he falls a couple of times?

Ok- let's go!

We got in line for the lift, hopped on without a hitch, and managed to exit with little mishap.
As we headed down, I cautioned him to go slow- slower that you think you need to, I said, remembering his straight-down approach on the bunny hill. It was the longest continuous stretch he'd ever been on his board, and he fell often, wobbling and overcorrecting. But he stayed in control, and when we reached the final steep slope, he edged his way down without a problem.

He headed straight back to the lift line. Up again!

What happened between the first run and the second was one of the coolest things I have ever seen in one of my kids. He found his flow- that sweet spot between challenge and skill set and energized focus. It was clear that on the MiteyMite, he wasn't progressing because he wasn't challenged. He had to stop before he found his flow and get back on the tow again. With the whole mountain to ride, he could get continuous feedback to correct and experiment and put his skills to work.

It was awesome, and it blew me away.

Not just because it turned out that he's a way better snowboarder than I thought or had seen, but because *he knew what he needed.* Here I was, harping away at how someone else needed to teach him,  needed to tell him when he was ready to move forward, and to give him tips along the way.

He didn't need that at all. He needed the space, the time and then the opportunity to follow his own understanding of what he was ready for.

We finished off the day with a total of about 7 runs, most of them going through the mini-terrain park. He rode the lift with his buddies. He commented on his own success.

This is an experience that I will carry with me through our homeschooling- particularly when I find myself going back to that old standby 'But you need someone to teach you that!  Sometimes, it may be true. But it doesn't need to come from me. If I am supporting and allowing, then the kids will know.