Fencing in Memphis

Waiting for the officials to post the pool assignments is complete agony. The only more agonizing thing is waiting for the direct elimination assignments to be posted. Those show the results based on how you and the other 120 fencers did in the pool. Fencing tournaments are long. They literally take up entire weekends depending on how many divisions you fence in. One event will take a whole day, most of which you spend waiting for your next location to be posted.

At the Memphis NAC, I was placed in a pool with six people including myself. They were the best fencers in the cadet age division (15-17 years). That’s pretty scary when you’re 14 years old and have only been fencing for less than two years, while they’ve been training since they were six. Basically, I considered myself doomed. I remember telling my mom, “No promises.”

First bout was called. I was on deck to fence a girl who had beaten me very badly two tournaments before this. First bout was done. “Elmo and Savage (last name changed) on strip, name and name on deck.” Deep breath. If I lost, it wasn’t that big a deal. I hooked up my cords and touched her with my saber to make sure her gear worked, too.

“En garde, ready, esgrime!” Two advances, one retreat, parry-repost. My point. She rubbed her wrist. I had hit her too hard. That’s what I was known for in the fencing community: big athletic goggles and hitting really hard. I won the bout 5-0.

I won every bout in my pool, mostly 5-1’s and 5-2’s. Between each bout, my mom would text my dad, who was at work. Normally my dad handled the fencing tournaments, and I liked it that way. Where my dad would say, “Get your head out of your ass!” my mom would say, “That’s okay. You’ll get her next time. Have some water.” Nothing is more enraging than a sympathetic mother when you’re trying to keep in the fighting mode.

Coach didn’t watch me fence that tournament. I don’t remember much about the direct elimination (DE) bouts. When I finished the pool and had two hours to wait for the DE’s to be announced, I casually walked back to where my team’s stuff was. Coach asked me how I did. When I told him that I won the pool, he responded in his thick Russian accent, “What, what does this mean?”

“It means I didn’t lose, Coach.” He sat down on my bag wearing his nice suit, not caring that it was caked with (and smelled like) two years’ worth of fermented sweat. He didn’t want me to know it, but I could tell he was pleased.

Connections

One of the things that I've really enjoyed in this class so far is how everything is related. In the summer reading and the first essay we read I was sort of picking up on the connections between the readings, but didn't really pursue any ideas because of it. I guess I just figured that we were moving on from topic to topic.

After the second packet that we read and the following class discussion, I was starting to realize something. All of these readings actually relate to eachother! That got me excited, and I started looking for how things connected.

I didn't expect the direction that we took on The Great Gatsby. To be honest, I've never really liked that book, and I assumed that we'd talk about all the "Money doesn't buy happiness" cheezies that we did when I read this in 7th grade. Once we started talking about the concept of the green light, I had to rethink my perception of the book. I guess because the first time I read it I was in second grade and the second time was really just done to get the summer homework finished, I wasn't looking for anything like a futile grasping for an unreachable goal. Now I regret not reading it more thoroughly. I think that I may have enjoyed the book a lot more if I had.

Language

Language evolves over time as new things are introduced and old things fade away. The word "blog" didn't exist ten years ago. "iPod" has become the generic term for any MP3 player. However, if I told you to get off the davenport, you would probably slap me. Words cycle in and out because they have to keep up with the rest of the world.

Your personal language changes all the time, even if you don't realize it. If I started refering to the sofa/couch/divan as a davenport, and Maddie liked the word, she may start using it. Annalee picks it up off of Maddie. Suddenly, three people are saying davenport, so obviously it's a cool word to say. Now everyone is saying "davenport." People pick up on new words all the time, and as more people say them, even more people will start to use them on a regular basis.

In the future, Chicano may become a more standard language in the Southwest. Anglo children will play with chicano children, and naturally it will become part of every day life. However, some of these kids may have parents who do not want them to speak Chicano English. Situations like this cause people to change their language based on their enviornments.

I do not speak to my parents like I speak to my friends. My friends make fun of each other and themselves in ways that an adult may interperate as offensive. Words choices with friends may be a little more blunt, though it's all in good humor. A parent would punish their kid for disrespect if (s)he said to them what (s)he said with friends.

Language is your identity, but like your identity, it changes. No piece of your language is ever entirely left behind, it just adapts to the changing enviornments.

Profound Experience

My family went on vacation to Dustin, Florida. We went with two other pieces of our family and rented a house together. Combined, we were five adults, five teenagers, one toddler, and one baby. The toddler, Colin, had a sort of attatchment to me. He followed me around everywhere, and if he didn't know where I was, he would walk around the house saying, "Abby, Abby, Abby," until he found me. He understood almost everything you said to him, but he rarely spoke and had trouble forming words.

Our house had a pool, and Colin and I were swimming. Colin couldn't swim, but he had mastered getting around on his inflatable fish. In the pool, there was a sectioned-off area that bubbled, but wasn't any warer than the rest of the pool. Colin decided he wanted to play in the bubbles, but once he got there, he got scared. I was trying to help him get into the other part of the pool again, but he was wet and wiggly. I couldn't hold onto him. He fell into the pool face first, and the way the pool was designed, I had a lot of trouble getting to him. It was probably only about six or seven seconds, but they were the longest six or seven seconds of my life.

I got him, and he was scared and angry. The thing that struck me was how quickly he forgave me. A minute later, he was kicking around on his fish, sticking his toes out of the water saying "MY TOOOWWWSS!!!!." We played for a while, and my uncle/his dad, Randy came out. "Abby bot awah up my nosh!" Colin proudly yelled. Abby got water up my nose. It was like he was bragging about it. All night he walked around the house saying that.

Older people have a lot of lessons they could learn from toddlers. I can't say I've met many people over three who would forgive so quickly about anything. I was still feeling guilty long after he'd forgotten about the whole thing. It really made an impression on me.

Something

Wooo! This is my first post.