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Being American with Olympic Humanity
I think it is a rare occasion, worth recognizing, when a Yankee’s Fan and a Red Socks Fan can sit in the same bar and root for the same team… Team USA. The camaraderie of being American is something that is lacking and usually only during great loss (like 9/11) or war, brings out that kind of patriotism. So, it’s refreshing to see people walk a little taller and feel a little more patriotic, “finally, on the same team,” while watching the Olympics.
But “Proud to be American” isn’t the only new perspective that the Olympics brings. It also is a tangible example of humility, dedication, honor and passion. I witnessed that first hand when I turned the TV on to catch the end of the Women’s Figure Skating. The TV was recapping the life of some of the skaters before they would compete.
I heard the commentator talking about Canadian figure skater, Joannie Rochette. Normally, I would ignore these re-caps and pay attention only when I heard the music start. But this re-cap was not some sappy story about how the athlete has ended up at the Olympics; instead, the commentator was somber recalling the tragic event of the athlete’s mother’s death. “Early Sunday, Rochette's mother, Therese, died of a massive heart attack just a few hours after arriving in Vancouver, to watch her daughter compete.”
The words stopped me in my tracks and I paid full attention to the TV.
This poor woman’s mother wasn’t terminally ill or fighting for her life. She was just a regular person who came to support her daughter and died unexpectedly. I watched the camera zoom in on Rochette. Most of the competitors were filled with excitement and nerves- but she was different. Her eyes were filled with sadness and she looked broken, yet, somber and fiercely determined.
Go to my BLOG to read the rest of this post and to see my other posts!
But “Proud to be American” isn’t the only new perspective that the Olympics brings. It also is a tangible example of humility, dedication, honor and passion. I witnessed that first hand when I turned the TV on to catch the end of the Women’s Figure Skating. The TV was recapping the life of some of the skaters before they would compete.
I heard the commentator talking about Canadian figure skater, Joannie Rochette. Normally, I would ignore these re-caps and pay attention only when I heard the music start. But this re-cap was not some sappy story about how the athlete has ended up at the Olympics; instead, the commentator was somber recalling the tragic event of the athlete’s mother’s death. “Early Sunday, Rochette's mother, Therese, died of a massive heart attack just a few hours after arriving in Vancouver, to watch her daughter compete.”
The words stopped me in my tracks and I paid full attention to the TV.
This poor woman’s mother wasn’t terminally ill or fighting for her life. She was just a regular person who came to support her daughter and died unexpectedly. I watched the camera zoom in on Rochette. Most of the competitors were filled with excitement and nerves- but she was different. Her eyes were filled with sadness and she looked broken, yet, somber and fiercely determined.
My heart ached for her. As she skated to the center of the rink, the commentator said that she dedicated the skate to her mother. The crowd grew silent. Normally there was hooting and hollering, people standing waving their countries flags, but this time, the rink was still.
As she skated, the commentators were silent. There were no remarks about jumps, foot placement or artistic ability. It was the first time I had ever been able to hear a skater’s blade cut across the ice ....
Go to my BLOG to read the rest of this post and to see my other posts!
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xoxo
Lana
xoxo
Lana
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