New Navy recruits, and potential Navy Seals are put through some tough training.
When they first begin, it is rigorous, backbreaking and everyone has to work together. It's a weeding out process and not everyone stays planted. There are several exercises that separate the tough from the weak, the guys with integrity from those without.
One of the most difficult and hated exercises is "Running with the boat." Seven men are required to carry a big, heavy, rubber dinghy on their heads while running a considerable distance through the thick sand. Each man is required to stand straight and let the dinghy rest on his head. The head pain is excruciating, and each man is tempted to duck his head and carry his part with one arm. When this is done, the weight shifts to the other six men, who now must carry the burden on their heads; it creates severe disrespect towards for the guilty navy guy who is ducking the boat.
I love when I'm told a story and it creates an immediate metaphor. As I listen to Braden, our potential Navy Seal, I can see the men running, I can see the complex shift of emotions as one of their own tries ducking the boat.
I see my own life. I pinpoint the times when someone nonchalantly was ducking the boat, and though I don't want to remember, I'm more than sure there were times when I was ducking the boat.
I look forward to using the phrase with my students this week when we start reading Alfred Lansing's book Shackleton. It is a tale of woe, of fortitude, of bad luck, blessings, and foremost, endurance and team work. For most of the journey, every man carried the boat on his head, but when one of the men didn't, it was excruciating as a voyeuristic participant to stand by and absorb.
A hundred years later, I remember the name of Ordes-Lee, not for the 95% of the time he was a team player, but for the critical moments when he was ducking the boat.
Once again, I'm reminded of the kind of person I want to be, the kind of person I want my students to be: players who resist the urge to ducking the boat.