To Row or Not to Row

I'm not completely clear whether I will encourage my daughter to become a rower. Here at Henley, ample evidence exists of the obsessive nature of crew, from the blisters and calluses to the massive leg muscles to the steely look in the competitors' eyes. All sports, of course, are competitive and require sacrifice. But crew does seem to be an activity that asks for an especially high number of sacrificial gifts: other interests, career, friendships, even family. I fought while rowing actively in college to maintain a "balanced" student career (writing for the newspaper, teaching French drill class, and brushing up my classical guitar from time to time). Rowing on a top-flight college crew these days, though, really does seem to be an all-or-nothing deal. On the other hand, it may be that my sport was exactly what I needed to get me through and to strengthen me for the other interests that exist in my life. I was discussing my quandary with the parent of a Brown rower one day, and she pointed out that as serious as the dilemma of what direction to push my daughter in might seem, I might want to consider the odd chance that Annalee will do what she's going to do, no matter how hard she's pushed -- or in what direction.

Sleep

Annalee has presence. People have seen it since she was born. Part of it is how much she observes with her dark-brown eyes, taking in each person in a room one at a time. Part of it is a more transcendent quality, a light in and near her that, if we lived in Tibet, would make me fear the monks' coming for her as a Lama. She was willing, praise God, to speak on the phone last night, telling me that she and Mom were on their way to pick up Boo. Perhaps hearing her voice for a few moments was why I had such a good night's sleep.