“My hands are sweating!”
“That’s okay. That means you’re doing it right.” It’s one of my favorite things to tell young students when they tell me about something that’s making them uncomfortable.
“But I don’t want sweat on my hands,” said the barefooted five-year-old, looking up at me like I was weird.
“Let’s do five more kicks, then we’ll take a break and get a towel for your hands.”
I had to turn my attention to the earnest little dancer next to him to keep from laughing. Her hands were also sweaty, but her smile was immovable. I could tell that even at six she was used to being good at the activities her mom enrolled her in – and kung fu was at least the third.
A class of two, so far: five and six, boy and girl, bored and focused. The girl was almost at the class door before running back to hug me goodbye; the boy ran back to the door, after leaving with his father, to wave goodbye a second time from the other side of it.
And so the new class begins. I’m warm and fuzzy already….