by Mornier Rich

“Competition Time! On Sunday, November 9, at 12:00 pm, approximately 70 gymnasts gathered at The Athletic Club on Staten Island for a local meet. Kayla’s team started the competition with the vault. The first gymnast from her team ran down the runway, flipped over the vault and landed on her feet. Everyone applauded but her parents STOOD UP and applauded. I looked at her parents while they were standing and muttered, ‘Show-offs.’”

My daughter Kayla is 11 years old and is in the sixth grade. She is a gymnast and has been practicing for about three years. I am her mother, so of course, I think she is very good. Kayla entered her first amateur competition in April 2008. She was nervous so I reminded her to have fun and not worry about coming in first, second, or third place. Kayla performed her routines and ranked in seventh place. She entered another competition in May 2008 and ranked in eighth place. Kayla looked disappointed. I tried to encourage her but she did not want to hear what I had to say. Kayla increased her practice time from twice a week to three times a week. She needed to give special attention to this one technique that gave her the most trouble. It is called the “mill circle” which is performed on the uneven bars. After three months of practicing, Kayla told me she was confident and ready to compete.

Competition Time! On Sunday, November 9, at 12:00 pm, approximately 70 gymnasts gathered at The Athletic Club on Staten Island for a local meet. Kayla’s team started the competition with the vault. The first gymnast from her team ran down the runway, flipped over the vault and landed on her feet. Everyone applauded but her parents STOOD UP and applauded. I looked at her parents while they were standing and muttered, “Show-offs.” I realize now that my behavior was immature but that was how I felt at that moment. The second gymnast ran and executed the same technique as the first. The only difference was she landed on her butt. The audience applauded as a form of encouragement. I started thinking, “I hope this doesn’t mess up Kayla mentally.” Kayla approached the runway, took a deep breath and ran extremely fast. She executed the same technique as well and landed on her feet. Perfect! She looked at me and instead of standing like other parents, I pointed at her with my index finger. This was our code language for “You did it!”

After completing the vault, the team moved to the balance beam. The first gymnast mounted the beam and executed her routine flawlessly. The audience applauded and once again her parents stood up. “I wish they would sit down and act humble,” I whispered to myself. My husband overheard me and suggested that I stop being a killjoy and leave those people alone. The second gymnast mounted the beam and in the middle of her routine, fell off and started to cry. The coach told her to complete her routine, and she did. The audience applauded; but this gymnast was not receptive to the crowd’s optimism. Kayla was next. She mounted the beam, completed a few balancing techniques, dismounted and landed on her feet. Outstanding! My husband gave me a high five and said, “She is awesome!” After she exited the mats, Kayla looked at me and I pointed at her.

The team proceeded to the mats for the floor exercise. The first gymnast performed. As she was completing her last flip, she landed on her butt. She got up and did the flip again. This time she landed on her feet. The audience applauded. I looked at her parents and noticed that they did not stand this time. I thought, “What a sad message they are sending to their daughter about perfection and mistakes.” My husband looked at me as if he knew what I was thinking and said, “Mind your business.” The second girl did the same routine and it was excellent. The audience applauded but she still looked unhappy. I believed she was sad due to the mistakes she made earlier in the competition. Kayla was up. She did a forward roll that went into a split. Then she did some dance moves, flipped, and landed on her feet. Wonderful! She exited the mats and looked at me. I pointed at her and she gave me such an enormous smile. I started feeling exceptional. My sitting posture became bolder and more confident. My back was totally straight, my shoulders were back, my head was elevated and I felt proud.

The final event was the uneven bars. Kayla’s team proceeded to that area of the gym. The first and second gymnasts performed and both routines were flawless. Showtime Kayla! She approached the low bar, placed her hands on it and started to swing. She completed a couple of flips, moved from bar to bar, and prepared herself to do the mill circle. I joined my hands together as if I was praying and pressed them against my lips. Kayla pulled herself up, her hips rested against the bar, and her arms were straight and locked in order to support her body weight. She shifted her lower body to the right so that she could part her legs allowing the bar to go in between while keeping her legs elevated from the bar. She released her hands a little and leaned forward so that her body would go around. Kayla ended up back in the same position she started from. Fabulous! Suddenly, Kayla must have lost control. Her body went forward spinning around and around. Kayla’s coach grabbed her to prevent her from going around again. She finished the routine but looked devastated. Kayla exited the mats then looked at me. I pointed at her and she turned her head in the other direction. Kayla finally turned around to face me. Amazingly, she started laughing! My husband and I were surprised and we started laughing too. Once the competition officially ended, my husband and I walked over to Kayla. He said, “Kayla, I just want you to know that I am proud of you.” I looked at her and we both started to laugh again. I hugged her and did not say anything because our laughter said millions of words.

Later that evening I was watching Kayla as she played in the family room. I was able to reflect on the events of the day. I noticed that my judgmental side came out against those parents when they stood and when they did not. It really was not any of my business. People express emotions in various ways. I also thought about Kayla’s response to her mistake. Each time I envision her spinning around and around, I start to laugh. It was hilarious! Her response reminded me to not take my mistakes too seriously, as long as they are not life threatening. If I can learn to laugh at myself more, I am sure I will judge others less, and possibly enjoy life more. The ability to laugh can help make mistakes and disappointments appear less taxing. Kayla has another gymnastics competition in January 2009. I hope she will always have the ability to laugh when necessary.

Mornier Rich was born in New York City. She is a senior at Queens College, majoring in English. She intends to enroll in Graduate School focusing her studies in the areas of language and literacy. In her spare time, she enjoys reading, journal writing, and walking. She currently resides in Rosedale, New York with her husband, Willie and children, Cineca, Willie, III. and Kayla.