“Maarrriiiiaaaa!” I hear a young kid’s voice yelling to me from across the street as I ride my bike up to practice with all of our lacrosse gear. I look around and see a smiling youngster carrying a white lacrosse stick running along a concrete path between an irregularly large trash pile and an electrical outpost. It’s Junior!
You might recognize his name and his face from our social media channels, but you may not know the story behind one of our very first Panamanian laxers. At only six years old, Junior reaches to about my hip level ... on a good day … and when he has remembered to wear his zapatillas (“sneakers”) to practice. His lacrosse stick is nearly as long as he is tall. However, the growth that I have had the honor of witnessing in this small laxer is anything but small. Let me share with you how Junior has transformed from a hot-headed, tantrum-throwing terror into a responsible and caring teammate...
When I first met Junior, he had just turned six and was insistent that I know that he was the youngest at practice. Indeed he was, for our programs tend to target youth between the ages of eight and fourteen. But, there was no way we were turning this ball of energy away! What Junior lacked in material things and in size, he undoubtedly made up for in might on the field. Now, I quickly learned that Junior’s “might” came in different shapes and degrees depending on his mood that day at practice.
Although our Life Skills Curriculum teaches to swap physical expressions of anger with calm verbal ones and change flares of frustration into productive team effort, Junior was the master at being an example of what we would like our players not to do. He would often kick his teammates, cut in line, whine and complain, and - yes it is true - run around the field waving his stick over his head like a tomahawk when he got upset. Fortunately, his teammates were very patient with their youngest teammate, and after placating these outbursts we would use them as helpful learning moments.
As time went on and these outbursts continued to be managed, Junior’s behavior slowly started to change. Frustration was demonstrated less so with physical actions and more so with words, accidental altercations were followed by a recognition of accountability and a Disculpa! (“Sorry!”), and excited smiles outnumbered frowns.
That’s the best part about practice with Junior - the excitement he brings. And, as more time passed, this excitement and commitment to the game has overflowed into him transforming into a better teammate. Now, he is my everyday ayudante (“helper”). From being the referee during our scrimmages and holding his teammates accountable with squat punishments to always being the first player to offer their assistance with setting up the goals and collecting the balls, Junior has a pivotal role at practice. His presence is undeniable and now he sets the right example rather than the wrong one!
His transformation is so evident that even the parents of his teammates have commented on it. One day, as I spoke with them after practice, Junior cleared the entire field himself, picking up every cone, every ball, and dismantling both goals all on his own. To say the team parents were impressed would be an understatement. His parents, too, have seen a significant change in their son. While waiting for Junior to find his zapatillas one day, his mother mentioned to me how grateful she is for our programs and how Junior is so much more polite at home than ever before.
As I write this from my home in the United States rather than from my home in Panama, I am humbled by the effect, energy and sheer enjoyment that our programs have brought to Junior’s life. Indeed, his lacrosse skills are a sight to be seen, especially for someone so young, but really it is his heart and desire to learn that has me typing this in awe.
I am grateful for my ayudante, for all of our bike races to practice, and for the little Panamanian laxer that never fails to put a smile on my face. His stick may be too big for him, but the shoes he has waiting for him to fill certainly are not!
— Panama Program Director, Maria