Progress is Relative

I've mentioned before that I got Epic Mickey, a video game for the Wii, for Christmas. Make no mistake about it, I do not have the skill set to be particularly successful in such a game. I blame it on my age: when I was a kid the only video game was Pong. I was in college when Space Invaders made the scene, and an adult when the Pac Man craze swept our nation. I never owned a game system until 2007, and let's just say I had better things to do with my quarters.

My five-year-old nephew loves all things Mario, and his dad, just 5 years younger than I am, grew up playing the game. Those guys have some skills. My older nephews had Gameboys before they could read, so joysticks, A, B, C, Z, triangle, square, whatever, buttons are second nature to them. The same is obviously so for the vast majority of my students, but not me, oh no.

Still, there is something about this Disney game that I find interesting and even engaging. (Maybe it's that I heard a series of stories on it on NPR. Now it's beginning to make some sense, isn't it?) So, I play it, even though I know I suck at it. My Mickey staggers through each level like a drunk: the poor guy can not run in a straight line to save his life (literally), and he randomly hops about like he has a bad case of the hiccups. Add to that, that he is saddled with my own anxiety about heights. My palms actually sweat anytime falling might be a possibility for him; that makes the whole jumping thing a lot harder.

It's good for me to do things I'm not good at. As a teacher, I'm always on the look out for the slightest glimmer of improvement in any student, and lately, despite the steep learning curve, I do think I see some hope in my game. I'm reminded of a story that has become legend in our family. When my sister was five, she and my mom flew to California for a week to help a friend of the family who had just had a baby. Every day my sister asked my mom to help her put on a pair of roller skates. After a little while, she would call my mom again to help her get them off. After several days, she called my mom earlier than usual. "Watch me!" she said.

My mother was a little confused. "Courtney, you've been roller skating all week. Why do you want me to watch you today?" she asked.

"Because I can move now!" my sister answered.

See Mickey? There's hope, yet.