I spent some time in this boat today… it seems to be an apt metaphor representing this season in my life. It’s very similar to what I’ve known but not the same, just different enough to be awkward and feel the threat of failure.
I grew up around small boats… canoes, “jon boats,” kayaks, etc. This boat looks so similar to them, but it’s pretty different. It’s not exactly the same as a competition crew rowing boat, but it’s related. It is affectionately called “the tub” and it’s used to train new rowers (novices, like me) or correct form for experienced rowers. The oars are called blades and you turn them with every stroke. The seats slide back and forth. The stroke really happens in the legs, not the arms. A “cox” sits in the boat (not rowing) and calls out instructions. And you row BACKWARDS.
When I was offered admission to Cambridge, I knew I wanted to row with the college boat club (think inter-varsity sports). I watched videos of the Cambridge boat races, called Bumps. I found YouTube videos to teach me the form and I hit the erg (rowing machine) at the gym faithfully from January until lockdown in late March. I trained as best I could and learned from a distance. I felt somewhat familiar with the movements when I showed up for my first river outing today.
Then I got in the boat.
Nothing could prepare me for the awkwardness that I felt when I actually had to maneuver the blade. I was disoriented (mainly because it feels really strange to row facing backwards). I couldn’t quite hear what the cox was saying and even when I did, I couldn’t remember what the commands meant, which we had just learned while on the bank. I wasn’t in sync with my boat mate and we were struggling up the river.
Then we turned around, took a break, and started again.
This time, I knew better how to listen. I paid attention more closely to my mate’s stroke and stayed in rhythm. I felt when to turn the blades and was able to settle in to the stroke. We were gliding, accelerating, and it felt great!
Then I “caught a crab”… meaning my blade got caught in the water on the back side of the stroke… and I almost capsized the tub! We were told no one had ever flipped it. I almost made us famous!
What makes the tub such an apt metaphor? Everything here feels familiar enough that I expect it to be similar, but it’s not the same. Aside from all the obvious cultural differences that accompany an overseas move, my studies themselves are disorienting. I don’t readily understand the jargon. I can’t always hear what people are trying to communicate. Things often feel out of rhythm. I know what I’m doing, but not really. There is a constant and very real threat of failure. Things often feel unsteady.
Then I get some perspective and everything lines up. Momentum happens. I settle in and we’re getting somewhere! And then… I almost fall in!
When we got on the riverbank, the coaches and the boatman were so encouraging. We laughed and talked about the challenges of learning to row. They expect us to be awkward novices; nothing more.
I love it. I’m so glad I took a chance to do something totally different, outside of my comfort zone. I’m so thankful for the encouragers along the way… coaches, professors, neighbors, supporters, family, friends, those who are experts at what I’m struggling to do, and fellow awkward novices. This is how growth happens.
I’m sure I’ll fall in at some point, but the river is not deep. I can stand up, climb out, and try again. I’ll be embarrassed, but we’ll laugh and take pictures. Failure is not an identity. It’s only a destination if you stop moving.
I am so thankful to be here, COVID and all. Looking forward to getting on the Cam again soon!
