So this post has nothing to do with books or with my life as a writer, but I’ve been in Buenos Aires, Argentina for the past 5 days. My son is an Olympic athlete competing in the High Jump for the United States.
For the past 5 days I’ve been nervous and anxious, hoping that my 17 year old will SHINE on the world stage. We were expecting a personal best jump, but we didn’t get it. Not even close.
As they say, “shit happens.”
So what is this post really about? I have no idea. Except that I’m so very proud of my kid. Through his own disappointment, he showed some amazing sportsmanship, and a lot of the world was watching (and calling him “Charles”).
Beyond showcasing their athletic talent, the kids on Team USA are ambassadors for the United States, and they have handled that responsibility with aplomb.
I’m proud of my son for showing the world that the United States is so much more than our current leaders make us out to be. We are kind; we are courteous; we are generous. We care about other people no matter what flag is represented on their jersey.
Watching my son not win was disheartening. But watching him stay on that field and encourage his opponents to the best youth performances IN THE WORLD was overwhelmingly awesome.
Congratulations, kid. Medal or not, you are an Olympian.
