Zip-itty Doo Dah! A Day of Ziplining with Dr. Kelly

Dear EN 11 Students and Dr. Shannon Kelly,

I wish to begin this letter (this post) by expressing how wonderful it was to spend yesterday morning with you at the Discovery Adventure Park in Bridgeport, Connecticut, and to admit, first hand, how guilty I felt for cheating on my own EN 11 students. Shhh. Keep this a secret between us (note: Dr. Kelly was brilliant in making this a part of her Cornerstone course).

For several years in Kentucky, I worked as a community builder at Jefferson County Memorial Forest - first as a team leader and then as a teacher who brought his students to high ropes to build a solid classroom team. We hiked, camped, played games, and did g-rated zip lining, so when Dr. Kelly asked if I would like to come with this EN 11 crew I asked, "Why not?"

As we drove to the park (after your professor figured out the emergency break situation in the minivan), my mind wandered to what we would be doing all day. I imagined it would be similar to experiences I had while doing outdoor, environmental work in Kentucky.

Um. No.

Zip lining here was a little more PG-13 and different from the team's course of my past. I think Zip-fanatics are more sophisticated than my earlier days as a long-haired, granola boy who wore Birkenstocks. The trails at Discovery were more complicated and required bravery and strength that I hadn't thought to pack in my knapsack.  On the first zip out of the gate, I whacked my shin into a landing. Phlunk! That was only the first platform - only phase one of the first trail. Yikes! It was time to muster up some bravery and oomph!

You don't know me. We were in the presence of one another for only a brief time. That is why I have a confession. Although I've been heroic in emergencies and traveled in ambulances while playing Captain America for this or that injured soul, when I injure myself I have a history of passing out. Last year when I fell down my stairs while doing laundry, I banged my head and busted my ankle. But first, I passed out. Then I woke up thinking I dreamt I fell down the stairs, so I continued with laundry. When I returned  upstairs and reached the top step, I passed out again and didn't wake up until morning. Again, I thought it was a dream; when I stood up. Floor. Phlunk! Oomph!

I'm a squeamish fellow when it comes to my own injuries.

Yet, yesterday I did great with my flesh wound. I think this is because I was totally impressed by your class's zest. As a result, I kept zippity doo da'ing across the platforms, around trees, through tubes, down wires, up ladders, and with hanging  onto poles. I bandaged my shin injury and had fun. Even so, I had to face fears I didn't expect along the way. For instance, I am far from being Nik Wallenda and there's no way in Hades I would ever cross Niagara Falls on a high wire. I did manage, however, to balance on one with those dangling wood poles hanging from trees on ropes, guiding my footsteps 300 feet above the forest floor.

I looked to Dr. Kelly at one point and said, "Shannon, I have no clue how to do this next part. I think they're going to have to rescue me." Staffffff!!!!!

But I didn't call for them. I simply had to make it to the next level.

Alas, during my second to last zip line experience I didn't have enough oomph to get me to the platform. I slid back and dangled, mid-line, having to pull myself up by my hands (only to lose muscle strength at the last second and zip back to the middle of the line again)(only to have the pony-tailed, gorilla boy - that Tarzan kid - fly out of nowhere from his squirrel's nest to assist my predicament). Yet, I kept going. There's a metaphor in this experience.

And that is why I write to you, today (well, blog to you, today. It's the 21st century).

I think we learned numerous lessons while pretending to be trapeze artists.

I also think Dr. Kelly provided your class a phenomenal experience to bond, to try something new, to appreciate a challenge, and to celebrate writing, research, reading, and thinking in a way that transcends the traditional English classroom. That is something to remember for life, especially as you begin to question at Fairfield University, "What is knowledge and what do we do with it?"

Thank you, once again, for having me along.  I am a better man because of the morning I spent with you.

Ubuntu,

Bryan