Well, sometimes dreams come true. And sometimes the reality is every bit as rich as the dream of it. Today is one of those times for me.
Today, i was a Dragon Boat Racer.
See, i have a good friend, let’s call her Charlene. Char and i go back a long way, back to theatre classes at the end of the 80s. After university, we lost touch. We met up by good fortune at the public library, a little less than three years ago, when her daughter was newly minted and my own was two. And we discovered how our roads since school had been, and that we’d both lived in and fallen in love with Japan, and so on.
And this spring, Char joined her company’s dragon boat team for Corporate Challenge, a day of fun races, a fundraiser/teambuilding activity… and a long-time dream of hers, to race a dragon boat. When i oohed and ahhed at her opportunity, she immediately volunteered me for the position of drummer. And we were off.
Not to the races, but to the first of 2 whole practices we’d get as a team before today’s competitions.
Two practices.
Twenty two people, many who worked in different parts of the company and had never met (and of course me, the ‘friend or family’ extra), all trying to pull together. What a concept.
I knew i’d love the physical side of it, and it is grand. The full-body work of the paddling, out in fresh air, on the river, is nothing short of exhilarating. Sitting up on the prow, on the drummer’s chair, setting time and exhorting the team, also a full-body workout and exhilarating.
I got to do both things come race day. A team that was short of paddlers asked for volunteers to fill their benches, and i grabbed a paddle. So, i got to do both jobs, full-on, in races.
What is fascinating to me is what Corporate Challenge reveals about people in team situations.
See, our team fielded a full boat. And, we finished respectably, in the middle of the pack both in ranking and in average times for our heats.
And yet, there was a wide range of attitudes among our team members. I know, because i got to hear about things. Some people spoke up to me because, i suppose, i felt safe, not being a regular co-worker. Some things, i just happened to overhear. Some told me because i asked them.
Thus, i heard the opinion that we had ‘at least 19 captains’ on our team; which was looking accurate at the moment, but which begged the question of ‘and what do you propose we do about that?’
And, i heard lots of commentary on what everybody else could be doing better. And, because i was drummer and sat facing the squad, and because the captain asked it of me, i got to dish some of that out, too. And it was fascinating observing grown people struggle with their own confidence, competence and ability to learn.
We were all beginners. Why would any of us expect to have to know it all? What does it take to, as a team member, offer observations about a team-mate’s technique? And what does it take, as a team member, to hear suggestions and corrections in a spirit of confidence that we are really, all on the same team, just trying to be the best we can?
Did i mention? We had, in total, six different experts from the boat club directing us… and each one used different counts, different strategy, different commands. So, we’d get taught one thing, barely grasp that, then be taught another way. Down to the very last race, the experts kept changing the rules on us. Maybe that was to keep us from taking anything seriously?
So, there we were, two by two, and i got to be line leader, and some wag shouted out that it was just like kindergarten. And i couldn’t help wondering, how much have we, taken as a whole group, grown up? Would a kindergarten group be any more likely to seethe in thin-skinned sulkiness at the commentary of others? Would kindergarteners be any less able than we proved to follow the captain, listen, and each focus on doing our own part before we worried about correcting our fellow novices?
On the other hand, i doubt any kindergarten group would have more fun.
For every seething sulker, there was also a person who’d come out full of goodwill, full of intent to take this ride for all it could be, and leave aside any ego issues that might get in the way. So, yes, there was a woman who, when i said to her, ‘hey, wasn’t that fun?’ huffed, ‘i don’t like losing’ and turned her back on me. As a volunteer helping her company field a full team, as a person who’d just worked my guts out in the same boat, did i deserve that? No. But i don’t take it personally.
I also got to hear from the team-mates who took the initiative to say ‘good work, thanks for coming out’ or who shared a smile about the many positives in our performance. There were many team-mates who’d evidently learned, whether in kindergarten or otherwise, that joy is where you find it, and every group opportunity is what you make of it.
There were those of us who could remember to just be delighted to actually be there, in boats on the river, able to play, supported in so many ways in taking on something new, fast, engaging.
And that remembering is no small effort, sometimes, when people let fear or sourness get in their way, and show little sign of caring whether they hurt others.
But, it was easy, the remembering, when i realised, again and again, from one beat to the next, that i was part of a greater whole.
We were driving a dragon, lifting it through the water. I was out on the river in the fresh air. I was part of a tradition that goes back to a land far away, to a legend about a poet whose integrity and courage inspired the locals to honour his choice of death before dishonour.
We were hardly struggling for such stakes. There was nothing but corporate bragging rights at stake. All we had to lose was the opportunity to pull together, to know the heart-pounding joy of moving in unison, surging and gliding through the water.
I am proud to say that, despite the bitching and moaning along the way, we did not lose that opportunity. From my seat up in the prow, i whacked that drum with all my power, shouting the rhythm, exhorting my team, using my weight as best i could to augment the surge. And i could see everyone. And there was no mistaking it; every face, at some point, was alive with it, with the burning focus on rhythm and movement. Everyone got caught up in it.
We did not win.
We hadn’t gotten it together enough for that. We moved to the clash of paddle blades, with rocking and bumping, and plenty of splashing.
But we became, at various singing moments, a team. And, for a few moments here and there, we drove our dragon through the water with grace, and fire and style.
Not too shabby, that, when it comes to dreams come true.
All My Relations
ams
How’s the inaudible drumming going? Have you reached a zen state?
With meaning and poetry answers await every difficult moment in our shabby human quarrels.