I was teaching my weekly introduction class last night and I had the opportunity to tell one of my favorite stories. Teaching people how to be safe about climbing is one of the most rewarding things I have ever done in my life. It's amazing. This experience set THE perfect example for the love I have of teaching people my passion for climbing.
A few years back, I was working at my local gym. The group was coming in late morning and there was only 7 or 8 of them. When they showed up, I realized that they were high-risk youth. They were around 13-15 years old. They lived in a "home" with kids in similar situations. It was something of a foster home for kids who had never had much guidance or parenting, if they had parents at all. One of the girls was pregnant. The boys had tatoos and wore jeans that hung from their thighs. All of them looked physically and emotionally abused. Well, maybe I could do something about their day.
After screwing around putting on harnesses and an hour of tying knots and learning to belay, I felt that we were ready to start actually climbing. One of the boys had the WORST attitude. He didn't want to do anything but sit and pout. I don't know, but he may have been in trouble earlier in the day. He was REALLY all sorts of unhappy about his day. I don't remember his name, but he touched my life in a way that he will never know.
After basically fighting with him to get him into a harness and to participate, I volunteered him to be the first climber. I volunteered a girl who seemed the complete opposite of him in the group and probably wasn't friends with him to belay him. (She was solid, which was the real reason I chose her, but it really helped that she wasn't his buddy.) After a couple of minutes of hooking up and tying in, I had every member of the group check both of them over to make sure that they were setup correctly. I then had them all sit down right around us, just a couple feet away. Then I asked the question; THE question. "Do you trust your friend?" He looked scared to death and I could almost see the blood fade from his face. I had him take his jacket off and pull his shirt through his harness. Then I had him approach the wall.
In climbing we have lots of communication. When someone leaves the ground, both people know what is happening and they are talking to each other. This begins with a couple of commands. They recited the commands and he pulled onto the wall.
The girl very diligently pulled rope and belayed him perfectly. He climbed higher and higher, gripping the holds harder and harder as he ascended. About 20 feet up, he stopped and I could see the tears on his cheecks. He was so tense that his legs were doing what we climbers call "sewing machine leg" or "Elvis' legs." He was not willing to trust his belayer. I was breaking that right now. You could see the anguish on his face. His arms were on fire from the lactic acid builing up. I told him that he needs to do one of two things. He can keep climbing or he can sit back in his harness and lower off. I looked back at all of the other kids and they were on the edge of their seats.
After some coaching, he reached the top! Then the hard part began. I had to talk him into sitting back into his harness and letting go completely of the wall. I'd guess that it took a good three or four minutes to accomplish that. Once in lowering mode, I did my best to relax him.
When he touched the floor, his face was about a mile wide. His adrenaline had to be going about mach 2 as he wiped his tears away and untied.
Just watching this 180 of this kid was amazing. He went from a kid who didn't trust anyone and probably didn't like anyone, to someone who was building self-confidence, trust in other people, and the ability to encourage. I will never forget that day.
The concepts of forking
8 months ago
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