No Time Left For Pride

[Dana Sheets]

There's No Time Left for Pride
by Roberta Peart
Fencers Quarterly Winter 2002/2003

When a breakthrough comes in the area in which much anguish has been experienced, it is a relief. Over the past month or so, I started to notice that the anxiety I have felt for the entirety of my fencing endeavor, two years, has completely melted away. I'm not sure why the change has come, perhaps it's because I have written an article about it. Therapists often tell their patients to write down their feelings. I'm not an analyst, so I won't try to figure it all out; I'm just happy that I don't to have to quietly freak out at my fencing club anymore. Holding back all those persistent emotions was more tiring than the footwork.

There has been a downside to my new found confidence, which I was unaware of, until last night. Pride is the culprit. At some point, after anxiety headed out the door, pride walked in and plunked down its baggage. I was unaware of the problem and its debilitating consequences. I was comfortable and didn't want to feel otherwise. I had just started fencing saber, after barely learning foil, and people were helping me to learn the basics; parries, cuts, point attack, etc. I was given lots of positive attention, teamed up wit the excitement of a new weapon and some shiny new equipment.

I even splurged and bought those funky anatomical fencing shoes, to replace my pink sneakers. I took a lot of ribbing for buying them. My pal Paul, who also teaches me, enjoys a good poke at those shoes every time he sees me. "How much did you pay for those shoes Roberta?...Well, don't you think you should use them?!" My footwork does need improvement, but hey, whose doesn't? I am confident enough to handle the ribbing, even if I'm not fast enough to throw one back at him.

What I didn't realize was that my confidence was slowly turning into pride. Instead of not wanting to fence a new person because of anxiety, I didn't want to expose my lack of ability. Before, I was worried about fencing in front of my fencing master, now embarrassment is holding me back. With the many lessons he has given me, I was ashamed that I couldn't fence better. "Should I reveal the fact that I can't fence unless I'm being spoon-fed the actions? Perhaps I should let him think that I'm doing well. I'll just hide on the other side of the room and bout. He's busy with lessons and won't notice me." These were my semi-conscious thoughts....

[Dana Sheets]

Last night, however, all of that changed. Suddenly I realized that I wasn't fooling anyone. Every person that I have fenced with knows my ability. When it comes time to bout in a USFA tournament, my coach will surely want to know the results. It dawned on me that time was not on my side. I just joined the USFA, as a veteran! There is no time left for pride.

As a consequence of this new revelation, I swallowed my price, and asked a friend to bout with me, in front of my fencing teacher. Hoping to remember the actions he taught me in my lessons, and trying to execute them, I struggled on. We didn't keep score, just acknowledged touches until I was too tired to continue, (my 17 year old partner was NOT tired!). After our handshake I march straight over to the Maestro, who looked sickened, as if he had just watched a PBS special on eye surgery. I felt so badly for him as I saw disappointment radiating like an aura around him. He has put so much time into me; I hated to break his heart that way. I straddled the bench so that I could sit face to face with him and take it like a woman.

And take it, I did! I won't tell you what he said, I'm not trying to make you feel sorry for me, but I will say there was not one iota of praise given. At first I wanted to disagree on some issues, and I voiced just a few. Then I realized that I truly know nothing, and that a saber fencer of four months, does not disagree with an 83-year old fencing master! So I shut up, which is another first for me.

I listened, and I asked him to watch again. I proceeded to fence another pleasant, prep school ids, this time, keeping score to five. I lost, 3-5. I thought for sure, when I reported the score, that I would have at least proved I could do some things right, even if it wasn't enough to win the bout. But no, I was told, once again, that I wasn't fencing correctly.

I must say, I was surprised when I saw sympathy in my master's eyes. I didn't expect any. He promised me he would work with me more. I think he actually felt sorry for me this time, as he kindly said to me that I do well in my lessons. He told me that it was good that he had watched me and that now he know what we need to work on.

I left the club last night feeling like the rock bottom beginning that I am. As much as I accept this now, I would love to say that I don't mind this position, but I do, in fact, I hate it! Fencing is a long haul, and the beginning stage seems to last forever (especially when you prematurely add a new weapon!). Sometimes I feel as if I'm spinning my wheels in the sand. My pride takes a beating, not only on the strip, but also in my drills and lessons. I'm frustrated, but I'm far from discouraged. It is D-Day for me: Determination, Discipline, and Dedication are replacing anxiety and self-importance. My fencing master and teachers are so willing to help, but they can't help me if I hide behind silly pride.