I had just barely learned to read when I was confronted by the concept of courage or being brave.
I read about heroes and brave deeds. It stirred my imagination. Yet I wondered if I possessed some of its attributes, was I brave? Was I courageous? My early life certainly seemed devoid of it.
My earliest memories seemed to show that I had none. The first cowardly deed was when I took part in my first rugby practise one weekday afternoon. I went to a very small school, Amalinda Primary School, located in East London. A rugby team comprises a total of 15 players. Being such a small school, all the boys had to play together when practising, regardless of age. My Dad was a keen rugby player and he had achieved quite a lot in his day. He kitted me out, rugby boots, socks and a jersey, all in school colours. He came to attend the first occasion of his eldest son “playing rugby”. I was the youngest on the field, seven years old. I seem to have quite a good memory and I can remember the ball being kicked in my direction. I turned towards the ball and picked it up. But behind me I heard the thunder of many boots pounding the ground as all the players ran towards me. I remember no more than that. My Dad recalled with much laughter how I just threw the ball upwards and ran sideways to get off the field. Hmmm, no evidence of any bravery there, sadly even cowardice was demonstrated!
(rugby in New Zealand)[http://www.zimbio.com/photos/Robbie+Able]
The second cowardly event was at an athletics meeting. The gun went off and all the boys seemed to disappear into the distance. I was last by a long way, as I passed where my parents were, I just turned off to them and did not finish the race. That event in particular has been burned into my memory.
So when I had my children, I drummed into them that they must never be quitters, even if they come stone last, at least have the courage to finish. My eldest girl, Tanith, took her father’s advice to heart. When we lived in a beautiful little town named Stutterheim, she first went to school there. She had just been taught to swim (ie, how not to drown when in a swimming pool) and she had been encouraged to participate in the local school gala. Her mother took her to the event and watched Tanith participate in her first competitive event. Of course all the other kids were miles ahead and finished ages before this little girl. She knew not to give up but it was terrible for her. She swam a few strokes, then she stood up crying loudly, then she put her head down and carried on. A most beautiful thing happened, the entire school started cheering for “Tanith”, “Tanith”,”Tanith”, all the teachers and pupils. So she kept on, a few more strokes, then standing and crying, but she did not stop until she had finished the race. The ovation she received was much louder than for the winner. She learned so much from this. She continued to participate throughout her schooling career and remained a “finisher”.
As for my own saga, doubts continued to grow as cowardly deeds revealed themselves to me throughout my teenage years. When I was in the Air Force I decided that I must join the boxing club to see if I was a coward or not. What would it be like to be punched? Because of my size I represented the Air Force against an army gymnasium in a boxing tournament. I got a nice cut above my left eye from a head butt and eventually lost the fight, but I seemed to get a great admiration from the instructors. That was not so bad, I could get punched and survive. From then on I was known as “Little F@$&”.
But doubts still persisted in my own mind, I didn’t believe I could ever really be brave, but one thing I did learn is that I am persistent. I do not give up. So even though I was a poor student, I eventually completed my degree in accounting in 1989. I wonder if pity from my examiners eventually allowed me to get through? It was a tremendous feeling of accomplishment when I attended my graduation ceremony in May 1990.
Then, in about 2010, for some or other insane reason, I decided that I wanted to do my honours and try to become a chartered accountant. My degree was about twenty years old and out of date for such an academic exercise. So here I am, over 50 years in age and wanting to study again! What possessed me? The demands for this are intense; the course required about 40 hours per week for study. All papers have to be passed in the same year or they must be repeated. I thought to myself, what nonsense, 40 hours, these tutors are just being ridiculous! I had to learn the hard way, the tutors where absolutely right. It didn’t matter how smart I was. Discipline to be a consistent student was an imperative. I had to learn the hard way. I fail my first year, I fail the second attempt, I fail the third attempt and even my attempt in the fourth year but I don’t give up. I now doubt that I can pass but I stubbornly persist. I am humbled and compelled to follow the paths and methods of study recommended by the tutors. I am growing, albeit slowly. Then in my fifth attempt I managed to pass all my subjects in the required time period. I was astounded. I will always be grateful to my dear wife, who believed that I could do it. She believed in my future success even when I had solid reasonable evidence that there were too many factors counting against me; my age, my poor study techniques and my family responsibilities. I know I will never be able to economically recoup my efforts of study in the employment market but this is something I wanted to do for myself, to see if I could do it. I was ready to tackle the next year in studies but then the tumour’s “arrival” put an end to that particular dream of becoming a chartered accountant. The emotional high from that success, however, gave me a great deal of emotional strength for the looming battle with my tumour.
Currently Michele and I are in the greatest battle of our lives; putting our girls through full time university. I don’t know how we are doing it but we are somehow. My girls deserve the best because they are courageous and dedicated students who have performed well. They may not be the best students when compared to others but they are doing a great job of measuring up to their own potential best. No-one can ask for more.
So in conclusion, I have come to realise that I am not brave, but definitely stubborn and persistent. That will have to do. It’s the best I’ve got.