(the) A-G-O-N-Y & the E-C-S-T-A-C-Y

Ever since Sophia entered 1st grade she and I have had the same routine. I would drive her to school every Friday morning, and on the way I would quiz her for the Friday S-P-E-L-L-I-N-G test. Sophie has had an uncanny ability to spell words since before she could really read; even words she’s never heard or used before. So in keeping with her abilities I’ve stressed to her the process of "sounding" out words when trying to spell them. It is little wonder that she is such a lover of W-O-R-D-S since from the start she’s always been a lover of books. To trace this fact we would have to go back to May of 1998, when my mother along with Sophie’s mother’s friend Sue had planned a surprise baby shower in Pennsylvania. The trap was set, and Sophie’s mom hadn’t a clue. It was held in Marple, Pa. at a beautiful revolutionary era home on an equally beautiful spring day. My mother had asked on the invitations for people to also bring along their favorite childhood book with a personal note inscribed within. This would be a perfect touch, and without doubt, the impetus for Sophie’s love of reading. Before she could read, she had no less than 30 classic children’s books just waiting for her; patiently watching her grow and waiting for her to turn her attention towards them. She eventually did at an early age, probably 2. From there on in, she’s been a reader and lover of books.

So it was that her love of reading, writing, and S-P-E-L-L-I-N-G would inevitably lead us to the Beacon Cove Elementary School cafeteria on a rainy, cool day in January 2007. Sophia had been notified in December that she had been chosen to be her class’s representative at the Scripps Spelling Bee. No surprise there actually, as she had been posting 110% marks weekly on her spelling quizzes. (100%, plus the bonus word). Of course she knew how proud this would make me, and when she called me back in December to tell me, she left me an excitedly giddy message, that "something great happened at school today and I need to call her back as soon as I get the message". I called, wondering what it could be; "you were chosen student of the month" I queried, "nope, better" she replied. "Hmmm", I told her I wasn’t sure what could be better, she begged me to guess again, "Ummm, you were promoted a grade?" I joked. "Nope, I was chosen as the class representative to the Scripps Spelling Bee!!!" Wow, now that feels good when your child is recognized for academic endeavors.

I told her we need to get a study plan and get to work as she excitedly agreed. So it was that I assembled a study booklet of over 500 words from at least six different language derivatives along with the lessons and rules of identifying them. We studied off and on over Christmas, though there was a great deal of distraction; eventually we got some serious study time the last two weeks leading up to the event. It got to the point where we just had to stop as her little head was about as full of new words as you could get. She averaged throughout the whole ordeal over 90% correct when quizzed, of course many of the words she had either heard, used, or seen. Still, there were many others she hadn’t. What I soon began to realize was that it really wasn’t about the contest as much as it was about Sophia learning about where the words we use come from, why they often mean what they sound like, and learning about the countries of origins in the process.

Isn’t that the beauty of English? English is the child of Arabic, Greek, Latin, Spanish, Italian, and French—and then you cannot ignore the importance of Old English, and Japanese either. It was as much a study in social studies as it was spelling. English is the bastard language of inclusion, how many words in Arabic or Japanese dialect come from English? Well long story short, it all came down to yesterday; Sophia was a bundle of nerves. She didn’t sleep well, and was telling me she had a "funny feeling in her chest", as we pulled into the school yard. I told her I know that feeling, and I get it sometimes too—even now. I told her that this was her body’s way of telling her she’s ready, because if she didn’t feel a little bit nervous then she didn’t care about doing well. My last instructions to my little bundle of knowledge were, "take a deep breath, use the definition option, pronunciation option, and even the use it in a sentence option if she needed", and always, always, use the sound it out process in her head" I kissed her, wished her well and let her go. She said, "ok papi, I got it.", and then she was off; ascending the stage before a crowd of teachers, administrators, and parents—the students would all be watching on CCTV in their classrooms.

There is no greater feeling in life than watching the child you’ve raised begin to truly show their independence, confidence, and abilities. You are humbled and touched, that is if you are a parent who takes the time to recognize such, unfortunately I’m sure there are those who either don’t, can’t, or just couldn’t care less. I choose to live in that moment, embracing that feeling, and truly enjoy the "Kodak" moments of Sophia’s life, as it is a reflection of my own youth in many ways. Not so much in being an only child, but rather the everyday, going-through-the-motions of childhood way. Remembering through her eyes, the experiences and failures and what it is to be a kid-again; feeling those butterflies in your chest. God knows, her mami and I were feeling them now.

The Sopher was number 67 out of 91 kids. I would need to listen to 66 children before my pride and joy would S-P-E-L-L. Surprisingly it went fast—and sadly, kind of ugly. I knew as soon as I heard the first misspelled words that Sophia was in a different class altogether than many of these children. You could tell immediately by the way they approached the mic and the confidence in their voices who had taken it seriously and studied and who had not. It was at this moment I thought to myself that Sophia, despite only being in 3rd grade, might actually have a shot at this. (The contest was 3rd, 4th and 5th graders) The first sign of this was a fifth grader who couldn’t spell A-N-V-I-L if it landed on his F-O-O-T, and then another who missed A-D-O-B-E. I knew Sophia was versed in much more complex and difficult words.

Eight years of learning, knowledge, time and love invested, approached the mic. Confident from hearing the slaughtered words that had decimated the once strong 91 kid pool down to about 40, Sophia was a study in contrast. Cute as a button, sure as sure can be, she stood ready for her moment in the light. The moderator read out P-R-E-S-C-R-I-P-T-I-O-N. What? After so many children had fallen to one and two syllable words Sophia gets this eleven- letter mammoth? No matter--- we studied it, she knows it, and this is her moment. **Gulp** And then, without any delay, and I mean none, she rattles off all eleven letters to the impressive sighs and sounds of the other parents, as we are all bonded by now by the shared empathy for each other’s children as much as our own. P-R-I-S-C-R-I-P-T-I-O-N, each letter clearly and quickly rattled off Sophia’s bi-lingual little tongue with the certainty and conviction of someone who had just read it from the dictionary. She KNEW this word; this was a long one for sure, but easy for her. She knew it so well, she let her nerves get ahead of her and she placed an "I" where the "E" belonged. The moment of disappointment as it comes over your child’s face is a moment every parent knows; for it cuts into your own heart far deeper than the child’s.

A point that will never truly be understood until such time as the "cycle" renews itself, and your child is sitting in your shoes watching their child-- your grandchild. Of course I knew in nano-second it was over; the good and the bad aspects. All the studying, all the laughing, all the nervousness, and all the dread, it ended the moment the letter "I" was sent into the mic. Sophia is by her very essence, a child of great pride in her abilities and her triumphs. She faces fears and challenges with a composure that I know I didn't have had when I was eight; and I was a boy with four siblings. Her courage, audacity, and willingness to face her own fears are by far her greatest strengths and those that I as her father admire in her the most. For it is because of these traits and not in spite of them that I know she will be all that she dreams to be one day. Sophia is not a watcher—she is a doer. And although the sting of defeat sits close to the surface right now, I know that this too will pass. Out of deference to her, I make no such claims to her now—instead, allowing her the space to absorb her loss, and hopefully she’ll grasp this on her own.

Sophia’s a funny little girl though and once the tears had dried, she was claiming a "fix", opining how could she, a first timer competing against 4th and 5th graders getting easy words like
A-S-P-E-N, C-H-O-C-O-L-A-T-E, and G-U-I-T-A-R be given such a long word? I know, and she will too one day, that spelling bee’s are a lot like life – it’s all in the luck of the draw. I also know that the many hours we spent preparing were not in vain; though convincing her of this might be hard right now. She will take this experience and the memories of the time invested and draw far more meaning in her defeat than she would have ever done in triumph. Sophia will be back, and not as a mild mannered first-timer either, she’ll return wiser and hungrier. Bet on it.

So after a commiserating meal at the sushi restaurant I was beginning to see signs of my little girl again, and the sting was starting to wear off. This is where the E-C-S-T-A-C-Y kicks in on
S-O-P-H-I-A. She had a consult appointment with the Orthodontist this very same day. This probably wasn’t the best time right now. Still my responsibilities outweigh her blue mood, so off we went. Funny thing is Sophie has beautiful teeth and an equally impressive smile, so I wasn’t quite sure if I needed to be here. Still, the Dentist had seen something and suggested it, so here we were. Now I don’t know about the many readers of PinF, but when PinF was a kid times were definitely different. Braces were the kiss of death. You know that kid, the one with the cut lips and white sandwich bread stuffed in the crevices of the shiny steel that encapsulated his teeth. Suffice to say times are different now. Kids WANT braces. Really.

Last month after being referred, PinF received a welcome package in the mail from Doctor Vargas’s office. It included a quite lengthy questionnaire about Sophia’s hobbies, talents, favorite colors, foods etc. I thought it a bit invasive and trivial, but I filled it out anyway and sent it off. Besides the Orthodontist was a Temple guy, so I liked him already. Well this, like I said, is where the E-C-S-T-A-C-Y begins. We walked into this ultra-modern den of oral improvement and were immediately met by a sign that said "Welcome Sophia!!"….that broke the ice. Then the receptionist said hello and turned to Sophia and welcomed her excitedly showing her how to sign in by computer for any future visits. Then the Office manager Barbara came out making a big fuss, and told Sophia she was a guitar player too. Sophia looked at me like "what?" how’d they know that? We underwent a tour of the facility, and the processes involved in getting braces. After the star treatment and meeting the entire facilities staff, we got down to the in-depth and non-invasive head scan to see whether Sophia would in fact even need the braces.

Soon afterward the images were developed, the Doctor came in and in Spanish welcomed Sophie….he too started rapping about Fender guitars that he plays too. She was feeling pretty good about this place by now, and I could see B-R-A-C-E-S had replaced P-R-E-S-C-R-I-P-T-I-O-N. The results are that Sophia WILL be getting braces, just not yet. She needs to let nature take its course with a few of her baby teeth then, in time she’ll be fitted with the pink and black braces that she wanted. The abundance of attention coupled with the excitement of braces, however confounding to me, was just what she needed to get over her loss.

Later on this day I explained as tenderly as I could to her that she could've of done nothing more and nothing less to make me as proud of her as I was. Someday, she'll know this was true, and that the outcome of this day was not, nor never would be, a measure of my love and pride.


What a day. I’m E-X-H-A-U-S-T-E-D.

Travels With PinF

PinF went in search of Florida today.

Not the South Beach Florida, not the Palm Beach Florida, and not the Keys either. For a change PinF looked to the north and lucky I did because I found another in a seemingly endless number of state parks that proliferate this sunny, warm place I call home. Deciding last night to use my free day constructively I took a look at the state parks to my north, a direction PinF rarely travels unless he's flying north to Philly. What I found was pure nirvana. Take a sunny 78* day with cobalt blue skies, a motorcycle, and an incredible stae park and yes you have PinF recipe for instant stress elimination.

My alarm seemed to sound a little louder on a Saturday than it normally does on a work day. Still, my pre-planning last night coupled with a stellar weather forecast had me motivated for the ride. It would be about a 100 mile ride destination: Sebastian Inlet State Park. I arrived, paid my 3 bucks got my map and set off to explore. My V Strom was loaded with the hard bags that contained all the gear I'd need for the day, towel, book, change of clothes, rain gear(just in case) and small mechanical kit. I left my house at 6:45 am, pulled onto I-95 at 7am and was sitting beachside having my eggs, toast, and coffee by 9am. The park is immense and it encompasses the Indian River and Atlantic Ocean. There are fishing piers, snorkel spots, kayak rentals, surfing beaches, campsites and nature trails. Wow.

I commenced to the beach and drifted into an Ipod funk for about two hours watching the surfers and breathing in the cool clean air. The whole area is so different from the south as you slowly drift into the Indian River farm lands laden with orange and grapefruit groves you're constantly reminded of "Old" Florida both by the archictecture as well as the landscape. Upon exiting I-95 I passed an old church, you know the type -- where they have something smart to say out front. Today's message was kind of cool; "Trade your piece for God's peace", even the people are different. They're more deliberate, less rushed and definitely more rural, it is afterall farming country, as evidenced by the beef cattle, horse ranches, and many citrus farms, and nurseries.

Upon exiting the park I came across two jewels of the day. The first was the Mclarty Treasure Museum, this was way cool. The building houses salvaged artifacts and jewels of the ill fated Spanish fleet that sunk off the coast on its way back to Spain in 1715 laden with treasure. Hence the name for this coastal area is the "Treasure coast"....what was really interesting was that the museum sits on the actual site where the survivors who managed to make it ashore started a survivors camp. My second discovery, and personal favorite was the Pelican Island National Wildlife Refuge, the oldest and obviously first designated National wildlife refuge in America. President Theodore Roosevelt signed a presidential decree in 1903 declaring this slice of heaven such distinction.

I was finally utilizing the VStrom for its intended design--dual purpose. As I entered the first thing I noticed was the sign: "Historic Jungle Trail", and that's eactly what it was. NO sign of man other than the crushed shell and sand roads that wind their way through a pristine National Park that is home to hundreds of species of animals and has been restored to the original condition as the Spaniards would have found it 500 years ago. All non-native plants, trees and in some cases animals, have been removed and replaced by the original species. The first thing you notice as you enter is the silence. No noise in the park comes from man made machines, other than the vehicle you ride in-- or in my case - on. You would swear it's the first day of spring; bees buzzing, flowers blooming and birds and butterflies everywhere. Ospreys dive through the air, Black crown herons, storks, egrets, and the incredibly huge and graceful frigatebirds. PinF is certainly no card carrying Audubon member, but even the most uninitiated can but help to be awed by the birds.

I spent a good hour just enjoying the sun, the birds, the flowers the blue sky, and most of all I took in the silence. I was soon on my way out and ready to plug in to the Ipod for the ride back to my more commercialized, and fast paced life. Unlike visits to other naturally beautiful areas, this one was special in a different way. The entire trip was made characterized by a slower and less developed way of life, incredibly serene and beautiful. After checking out the scene PinF is sure to make a return trip, only next time I'll come better prepared with a tent and do an overnight in the park. Funny how I've been in florida ten years and I still discover new parks within a 2 hour drive that hold the real beauty of Florida. Incedibly they've managed to stay one step ahead, and out of reach of the developers. Here's hoping they continue to do the same.