Entitled humanity

When someone crosses a road, be it in a crosswalk or jaywalking, it’s nice to look up at the driver in the car who stopped for you and give a nod or wave. I’m not saying they should make a fool of themselves in the crosswalk, but just a “yeah, I see you and thanks for stopping” look. 
 

Where has our sense of entitlement come from? Even though it’s the law to stop for pedestrians in crosswalks, how many times have you seen people drive on through? If the walker is not looking then he’s going to get squished. 

Engage people. This past weekend, I volunteered with Boy Scout Troop 805 at the Maine Marathon which started in Portland. I was put 100 yards away from the finish line to direct runners and let them know they were close to the end of their journey. 

These people, who have just run a marathon, 26.2 miles, or a half-marathon, still a grueling 13.1 miles, took a second to tell the woman yelling at them that they were 100 yards from the finish line “Thank you.” “Thank you for volunteering today.” (Then there was that one man who said, “Don’t lie to me.” But that’s a different story about keeping a sense of humor.) Anyway, these runners had spent five hours running through many towns and at the end of their journey they took a second to thank me for being there, when some people can’t acknowledge that I didn’t run them over while they crossed the street.

With only a little nod, people will know they have done a good deed for the day. A small pat on the back that says, “I appreciate you.”

"The Thrill of victory & the agony of defeat" - Written for The Windham Eagle - By Michelle Libby

ABC Wild World of Sports had it right, but so did Proctor and Gamble when they said that the gold medals should go to moms everywhere. 
 

This week I have been exposed to the thrill of victory for parents of the girls’ basketball team and the bitter coldness at Shawnee Peak where I found a mom huddling in her multiple layers waiting for someone from Windham to descend the hill so she could shake her cow bell for them. 

As parents of competitive athletes be it soccer, basketball, track, hockey or swimming, all us deserve recognition for the early, and I mean early, morning hockey practices, for the Saturdays spent at a loud track meet waiting for the minute long race your child will be in or for the swim parents who sit on a hot, humid pool deck, which in the middle of winter sounds good, but once they realize that they shouldn’t have worn the UnderArmor or the sweater…isn’t as nice as it sounds.  

Parents who watch their child score the winning basket and later in the week have to console the same child when the team loses, deserve recognition. 

Athletes train for their sports. There is no training for parents, except for on the job. After I attended my first coach pitch softball game in which my daughter was a participant, I called my parents immediately and apologized for making them sit through years of softball games. It’s just what parents do. Some take up knitting to pass the time while others make friends and socialize through the practices. 

Parents pick up their children when they fall, comfort them when they are sick and love them no matter how long they have to wait for them to leave the locker room after swim practice. 

Despite the times we as parents wish we could stay home instead of driving to Topsham for soccer, know that when there are no longer the baseball games to go to or wrestling matches to attend, we will miss those commutes and that time cheering on our children. 

Win, lose or draw, it doesn’t matter because when it comes right down to it…parents get the gold medal every time they watch their children play, run, jump, swim, wrestle, swing or catch.