My grandson is
taking tae kwon do lessons on Saturdays, and has earned a little red stripe at
the end of his belt signifying he has completed the seven lessons in the first
levels. Fast forward several weeks and he's showing me a new belt with a yellow stripe going all around the length of the belt.
It's something he's proud of, and that pride is catching. If he's proud,
his parents are proud; if he and his parents are proud, then his grandparents are proud.
It's fun
watching the kids go through their exercises, and it's definitely amusing to
watch the instructors trying to keep the 5-7 year-old boys and girls in focus.
I'd compare it to trying to herd a bunch of cats whose attentions wander. You
can't keep a kid from turning around and looking for a parent.
Inevitably,
there are a couple of first-timers who're not so sure they want to be there,
refusing to join the group and sitting on the side, with not-so-happy
frightened looks on their faces, tightly clinging to their parents. But they'll
come around ... or maybe not.
And then,
there was this little exchange near the end of the last sessions I watched:
- Instructor: "Okay, next we'll practice (yaddah, yaddah,
yaddah) ... low block with front kick."
- Kid Student: "And then we go home?"
- Parents: (Laughter, laughter, laughter)
And yes. After
that, everybody went home.