The Karate Kid...

So Langston has started a martial arts class, and we never miss it. One, it's run by a great family. And two, this is a world where little boys don't get a chance to test themselves via fighting (without the obligatory guns), and so you need controlled places where they gain the confidence to go into combat to protect themselves, but also the discipline to know when to walk away. So on each Thursday, the kids spar.

The kids spar, and they can be as young as four years old, or as old as teenagers. They wear protection, and they get used to being in the arena. Langston has taken four classes so far, so he was just getting used to spar. But yesterday, it all clicked. Yesterday, he won his first match, using the ole one, two, ball kick to surprise a kid who'd beaten him previously. What's wonderful about being eight is that when you lose to someone you've beaten before, you don't act like an adult and get all mad. Nope. You want to be friends. And that's what happened. Langston's opponent suddenly wanted to talk to Langston and Langston back at him. It's respect that comes from a real place versus one that is manufactured. It would be great if more of our little black boys had the opportunity to learn that. Perhaps they wouldn't look for it when they were grown men and pledging a fraternity.