Skating Classes and the Corporate World
I have a 9 to 6 job but by the time I reach home
it’s typically 7:30 pm. My 6 year old son whose school gets over quite early
plays with his friends after his noon siesta.
Off late, he started demanding that he wanted to join the skating
classes that had become a rage amongst his friends. I enrolled him- thinking
that it would keep him engaged. And who doesn’t know about the guilt of a
working mother. How could I say a ‘No’ to a simple innocent demand when half of
the time I keep buying him stuff that he doesn’t even ask for?
And the over-competitive Indian parent in me loved to enrol him in every possible class- including those that he hated. The last summer’s swimming classes were a case in point. Poor soul, cried every single day before going for the class after one day his swimming coach pushed him in the pool without his floaties. And I must mention, he never really learnt swimming.
And the over-competitive Indian parent in me loved to enrol him in every possible class- including those that he hated. The last summer’s swimming classes were a case in point. Poor soul, cried every single day before going for the class after one day his swimming coach pushed him in the pool without his floaties. And I must mention, he never really learnt swimming.
Months rolled on. He was regular to his classes and I was
happy- that he has a way of “not getting bored” and staying away from the idiot
box. The skating classes added a new flavour to our bedtime conversations.
Instead of me, merely reading him stories, he was telling me enthusiastic
snippets of his skating classes. This was really new for a child from who I
hardly get half a line on my daily query of “what happened at school?”. As he
grew smarter, he started turning the tables at me by asking me “what happened
at office?” and I soon realized the hollowness of this question- The same stuff
happens in office every day and probably at his school too. But these classes
had got him talking- He would often tell me stories of how some kids race
faster than him and how he has learnt the T technique.
Since the classes happen on working days, I never really got
to attend them until one day I had an off; thanks to the variety of festivals that
our secular country celebrates. I went to his class hoping to meet a few
mothers, and specially his teacher for the first time.
We were dot on time.
Kids were getting ready in their skating gear. After the
customary hellos with a few parents, I cast a glance at my son. He had opened
his bag and was waiting for me to help him with his gear. I leapt forward eager
to help him. And oh my god, the complexity of that gear caught me off-guard. The
clips and the hooks and the velcros and the tightening points were overwhelming.
I struggled. To start with I put the knee covers on his elbows and the hard
portion that was meant to protect his palm was now covering the top of his
hand. He kept saying that I was doing it wrong and that I should have learnt this from his “Chotu Bhayia” (his care-taker)
And here comes my first Deja-vu from the corporate world. The
importance of induction and hands-on training can’t be stressed enough. Wish I
had requested his Chotu Bhayia to demo the gear to me before coming here.
And then the class started. It started with 3 rounds of running
around the court, as a warm-up. And then the various stretching exercises. Then with
the skates on, started various manoeuvres and balancing feats. 20 minutes into
the class, my son was sweating and his cheeks had turned rosy with the blood
gushing though his body. I looked at him and felt concerned. He is just six and
underweight and a fussy eater. The class that to me, was a mere means to keep
him engaged was actually pushing him through his limits. It gave him a meaning
coz it threw at him new challenges. And every time he succeeded at mastering a feat, he got more involved. Here was my 2nd
deja-vu from my workplace. As a manager, the way we design the work of our
teams, the way we stretch their capabilities creates a difference in their
engagement levels. How beautiful it may be, if every work-item that I assign to my
team can be designed in such a way that it pushes their limits by teaching them
something new.
35 minutes into the class, came the water break. With a
whistle, the skating stopped and my son came near me to collect his bottle. And
like a typical Indian mom, I was ready with the open bottle to help him drink.
He frowned. No Mom! Not until my sir blows the whistle. Like an obedient
student he went and sat down on the floor with the rest of the kids in a queue,
everyone waiting for the whistle to blow. The coach allowed them to relax a bit
and after 2-3 minutes when perhaps their hearts had stopped pounding, he blew
the water whistle. At the office, that’s what sets an experienced manager apart
from a novice. The knowledge on when to blow the 'water whistle' and when to make
them 'run'.
I couldn’t help but observe this little girl who was perhaps 3 to 3.5 years old practicing separately. Lean little body and a cute smile- she kept chanting one-two-one-two as she carefully moved one foot ahead of the other trying to balance on the skates. She fell down several times, each time letting out a weak cry looking at her mother, well aware that her mother wasn’t going to come to pick her up. With all my biases, I thought to myself- I would never do that to a 3 year old. She can grow up and learn all this. And then I remembered all the 'bias trainings' we do for our employees- to check their biases, to open their minds to people who are different from them. And here I was judging a mother who thought differently about sports and age than me. I looked at her and found her gazing at me. Had she read my thoughts or was she judging me for something too. Who knows? I passed a nervous smile and looked away.
This little write-up wouldn’t be complete if I do not make a
mention of the two little boys who were a marvel to look at for their skating
feats. They swirled and zoomed past at top speeds leaving everyone else behind.
I saw my son looking at them longingly. I knew he wanted to skate like them.
He had told me about one of them in our bedtime conversations referring to him
as the 'fastest skater in the world'. Closer to my workplace, I thought about the
elite group of high performers who often generate a mix of emotions in my
heart. Jealousy at times and Inspiration at times. These corporate soldiers
who perform at top speeds make all of us aim for more.
