It's official; Our 12 year old Daughter, Rose, has caught the juggling bug. Of course, she's grown up in a home where her father and two older sisters could, and did, juggle for as far back as she could remember. Of course, she has tried to juggle since long before she was old enough to remotely do it right. Of course, she has been part of our shows in one way or another since she could walk onto stage on her own. But it has only been recently that she has truly become a JUGGLER.
A big part of her motivation is that she is now in my class, therefore, part of my youth juggling troupe. She mastered balls early on in the fall, including a nice repertoire of tricks and partner routines with me. Rings came next, but clubs were a challenge. I am sure it drove her crazy that her classmate, Isaac, mastered them before her, although she would deny it (She would probably deny even an awareness that Isaac exists at all, but, trust me, she's noticed him.)
She had shelved the clubs for several weeks when, suddenly she declared she wanted to work more with them again. The progress was steady and quick. This came as no surprise. she was the kid who hadn't attempted to crawl as a baby, but when she finally decided to give it a try she went from our living room, through the dining room, and surprised her mom in the kitchen. Her learning to walk, speak and ride a bike all followed similar patterns of sudden explosions of success.
Yesterday, after school, she and I went to our church to juggle together. Our church has nice, high ceilings for jugglers, ample floor space, and a congregation that appreciates what we do enough not to get all bent out of shape when we practice our craft in the sanctuary. Suddenly, she HAD clubs. It wasn't just more, steady progress; she could do them, seemingly, in her sleep. It was time.
"Try these, " I said, handing her my fire torches.
"Seriously?"
"They're not lit. They weigh the same as clubs. Just see how they feel." I was trying to downplay this moment, but we exchanged eye contact that clearly communicated we both knew where this was leading. Of course, unlit, they really are just clubs, so she had no trouble with them. "Let's go outside," I proposed.
With nervous chatter, she followed me out into the parking lot, where I removed the lighter fluid from my van. I let her toss one lit torch back and forth to me to build up her comfort level, then I lit all three. Like any beginner, she tossed the first one or two only to back off and not even attempt to catch them. Then she started to get it. By the end she was doing a few tosses and catches. She was inspired.
"Can I try your machetes?" She asked. It's a special day in a man's life when Daddy's little girl asks to throw sharp objects around the sanctuary of their church. I pulled them out of their sheathes before she finished the sentence. And she did even better with them than the torches. So well, in fact, that she will likely be performing them with her classmates Saturday night... at a show in our home church.