From the Deep

I love the Olympics. I enjoy watching athletes push themselves to the boundaries–and beyond–of what they can do. I appreciate the years of dedication and hard work culminating in this pinnacle of competition. And most of all, I love the stories that emerge of the sacrifices people have made to participate in this ultimate experience.

I heard one such story last night. Watching the pairs figure skating short programs, I heard the story of Yuko Kavaguti, a skater for Russia. Kavaguti, Japanese by birth, trained in skating and dreamed of being coached by Tamara Moskvina, famed figure skating coach who has coached a number of Russian pairs to Olympic gold. As the story goes, Kavaguti sent a fax to Moskvina, requesting that Moskvina become her coach, and that brash act resulted (I’m sure after many other steps) in Moskvina saying yes.

It also cost Kavaguti. For Moskvina to coach her, Kavaguti had to become a Russian citizen and compete for her new country. Scott Hamilton, himself an Olympic champion and now Olympic figure skating commentator for NBC, said “How many people defect to Russia?” Some people in Japan are calling her a traitor.

But now, with her partner Alexander Smirnov, Kavaguti stands in third place in the pairs figure skating competition. Gold is within her reach.

Obviously, this girl is talented, and to reach her potential, she had to take risks and make sacrifices. As gifted people ourselves and as parents of gifted children, we know what this is like. I remember telling the principal of our neighborhood school, who is also a friend of ours, that we were moving our children from his school to a new charter school. I felt like a traitor. But since that time, I’ve seen my children rise to the challenges presented to them. We’ve defected for excellence.

I know many of you have made similar choices. While the world may never understand, we have to do it. We have to go for the gold in our lives, for our kids’ lives, no matter the risk, the sacrifice, the misunderstanding.

Thanks to Yuko Kavaguti for the inspiration. It may be small consolation, but she has gained a fan in me.

Late last night I watched ESPN, and noted on the ticker a message about Andre Agassi confessing in his new autobiography to using crystal meth. I pointed this out with curiosity to my husband, and figured this was probably Agassi’s way of getting skeletons out of the closet so he can live his life freely. Surely enough, this morning on espn.com, sports writer Rick Reilly reviews Agassi’s autobiography entitled Open (from Knopf, written with Pulitzer Prize winner J.R. Moehringer). You can read the review here. And indeed, apparently Agassi is coming clean in a way that will empower him to live more freely. (Just a teaser: the old-school Agassi mane? Fake!)

What struck me about this review, and what I imagine will strike me about this book, is that Agassi is a tremendously talented individual who lived the life many gifted and talented children live: they try to reach other people’s dreams for them. Agassi didn’t love tennis, and it showed in his performance. It showed in his downfall (the crystal meth phase). This happens to many gifted and talented young adults. They realize that they can’t reach other people’s dreams and standards, and they hit rock bottom. Some fall into drugs. Some fall into depression. Some even fall into suicide.

Only when Agassi got real with himself–when he shaved his hair, his image, and his drug use–did he begin to excel. And excel he did. His talent shone, and he won his way to number 6 in the tennis rankings and to five additional major championships.

When Agassi walked off the court for the last time, the public didn’t view him as the tennis brat that had started playing a decade or so earlier. He walked off the court beloved by his fans. He was true to himself; his talent delighted others; he had made the tennis dream his own and fulfilled it. And when he said goodbye to the sport he had come to love, he was able to walk into a full life. During an interview right before he retired, he said something to this effect: “I look forward to waking up in the morning and, instead of having to ask myself ‘What do I have to do today?’ asking myself “What do I want my life to be like?’” He had found the secret to a fulfilling life: being himself and choosing his path.

What are you doing with your giftedness? With your talent? Are you living someone else’s dream? Or have you given that up and faced your true identity, allowing your light to shine? At whatever point you find yourself in this continuum, I encourage you to keep following the path toward your truth. As you do, you will find yourself satisfied in life and blessing the world with the unique gift you have to give.

©2009 Lisa Lauffer