vicariously through him

The subject matter is taekwondo. The best form of discipline for any student, but especially my student. An art that teaches the respectful use of the bodies strongest muscle, the brain. A class that sends my son's focus into new profound levels of intensity. A reminder to live life like a lion, be strong like a tree, and to never melt like a candle. The kick is round, side, and front. The punch is followed by a kiyah, and the stance is horse or jumbi. But today, the student's eyes wonder, as a new boy enters the room. The new kid is distracting, and not at all interested in respecting the teacher or it's brilliant students. He is running around the room and rolling all over the floor, telling the teacher "No", and "I'm tired". I am watching this little piece of distruction make havoc of this usually sharply orchestrated class, trying not to let the others see steam rising out of my head. He is disrupting the vibe of that which is taekwondo, nonetheless waisting my money as the teacher now focuses all of his energy on the rebel in the corner. Finally, it is my favorite part of class, judo sweep tournament has begun. My son is paired with four different students, gloriously defeating them all one by one. As each student drops to the mat with the sweep of my son's leg, they are picked back up by his helping hand to make sure that they are okay. The new kid now decides he would like a turn at this, as if he is at pre-school accepting a paint brush to now paint a picture. He foolishly wiggles over to my son, rolling his eyes with his tongue out, giggling like a joke. I'm not sure what's about to happen, but I know deep down inside what I would like the outcome to be. It is time for this kid to rule out child's play and practice respect. Time for him to get judo sweeped like lint on the floor and open his eyes to wax on, wax off. Instructor says, "Judo sweep, GO". And BAM. My son wraps his leg under his and sends the kids' body 3 feet into the air with a THUD for a landing. A quiet before the storm fills the air. I look far far away from the mother of this child. I am stoked my son is such a stud, with a kind heart. With no intentions of malicious defeat, my son is not boastful or proud. Just playing his role as a resilient student. Perhaps tomorrow the new kid will show up to class walking taller, showing respect to both teacher and student, interested in a new way of learning. Or perhaps not, and I will have to cruelly think of other ways he can be put into his place. (Ouch. Did I just make that thought public?)