For the past few of weeks, the boy has been taking a Tiny Tots Hip-Hop Dance class through the city of Torrance and, man oh man, it’s been an interesting a journey.
To be quite honest, I couldn’t help but feel a little hint of pride stirring in my soul while I watched him maturate through the course of the semester. And, yeah, a proud father is supposed to be proud of his offspring. But it wasn’t the fact that it took the boy three weeks to actually pull himself away from the front door as an onlooker and be an active participant in the routine (he doesn’t do well in new environments). It wasn’t the fact that he seemed to genuinely enjoy dancing, in general, as evident by his tenacity to practice the routine at home at random times of the day. Nor was the pride that massaged its way throughout my being spawned from the fact that the boy was making friends through the program (see previous parenthetical notation).
I was proud because, as I do many things, I saw hints of me in him. To be more specific, I saw hints of the dancing blood that flows through my veins.
Throughout the course of the semester, I couldn’t help but think of the breaking crews I battled throughout the 80s and 90s and the dance crews I competed with in my early college years. Throughout the semester, I couldn’t help but think how much I really enjoyed dancing at a competitive and recreational level. Not saying I want to get back into it, but I did enjoy being there for the boy every week…as a spectator and as one of his biggest fans.
I also couldn’t help but think about the influence we have on our kids and on those around us, especially those of us in some form of leadership.
Our actions have a way of teaching, whether good or bad, life lessons to our kids and I was reminded that I need to be careful when I’m around my two little sponges. We all need to be careful how we present ourselves to the others.
Choose well.
How about you?
What are some actions you’ve done where you realized, after the fact, maybe you shouldn’t have done it?
Let’s talk.
BTW…the boy, as he did during the first three week of the semester, got shy and didn’t participate in his end of the year recital. Click the above picture to see how I improvised his final presentation.
derrickengoy.us 