1 . When I was ten years old, Mum got paralyzed (瘫痪) . Before that, she was a lively and active woman who amazed many with her energy. I admired her for all the things she did.

However, everything changed when she turned thirty-one.

I still have vivid images of her before her paralysis. She would play popular music, creating a cheerful atmosphere for lively gatherings. She would joyfully rearrange the furniture to make room for friends to abandon themselves to dance. She often spent hours filling the house with flowers, which we picked fresh from the gardens.

After Mum’s paralysis, I began to take care of my 2-year-old sister, Mary Therese. In no time at all, I learned to bathe and feed her. For me it was a giant step beyond playing with dolls. One moment stands out even today: the time Mary Therese fell and skinned her knee, burst into tears and ran past my mother’s outstretched arms into mine. Too late, I noticed slight hurt on Mum’s face, but all she said was, “It’s natural that she should run to you, because you take such good care of her.”

When I was grown and entered the field of corrections, Mum became interested in working with prisoners. She taught writing to them. One day, she asked me to mail a letter to one prisoner, Waymon. I asked for my mother’s permission to read it first. It read: when you said that I couldn’t imagine what it is like to be in prison, I felt like I had to tell you that you are mistaken. When I awoke one day to find that I was completely paralyzed, I felt trapped, overwhelmed by a sense of being imprisoned in a body that would no longer allow me to dance or carry my child in my arms. But then, I made a choice about whether I would smile when I saw my daughters again or I would weep. I made a decision to live as fully as I could.

By the time I finished Mum’s letter, my vision was clouded by tears. For the first time, I saw my mother in a clearer light.

2 . I was looking through old photos with Mom. “Where on earth is that photo of Dad and Mumpsy?” I asked. It was my favorite one of Dad holding his dog.

“Maybe Jean has it,” said Mom. “We could ask her.” I looked at Mom as if she had the third eye. She could not be serious! Grandma had two sons, Dad and Uncle Ralph, who was married to Jean. Mom and Jean hadn’t got along since I was a little boy. Jean would say hurtful words to Mom, and Mom tried to let it go. After Grandma passed away, our connection with Uncle Ralph and Jean fell apart.

Yet here was Mom, intending to reach out to Jean after nearly 30 years. “We’re in our eighties,” Mom said. “Neither of us has many years left. Why not give it a try?”

Mom called Jean. Jean said the photos weren’t organized, and she invited Mom over to help look for the photo.

Sitting down at the table, Mom and Jean got through all the boxes from Grandma but didn’t find the photo. After a short talk, Jean said sorry for what she had done years before. She said that over the years, she had come to realize her mistakes but the fear of not being forgiven had stopped her saying sorry. Over the next few hours, they talked about what had happened in their lives.

“Jean received a college degree, and she’s become an artist. She has even sold a few of her paintings.” Mom later told me. “Then Jean pulled out a photo album (相册) of her family, just to share with me.”

“I suppose you didn’t find the Mumpsy photo,” I commented.

“Oh, I almost forgot. Guess what was stuck into the back cover of the album and fell out when she opened it?” Mom held up the photo of Dad and Mumpsy — lost until the recovery of Jean and Mom’s wounds.

5 . Yesterday, after arriving in Madrid, I knocked on a stranger’s door. “I searched on the website. Will you give me lessons?” I asked. This was the reason I’d come to Spain. Because I once believed I was meant to be a female flamenco (弗拉门戈) guitarist.

Forty-five years ago, when I was two, my father also came to Madrid and knocked on strangers’ doors. A well-known classical guitarist, he admired flamenco a lot, and in Spain he learnt from anyone willing to teach him. He approached performers in bars, made friends with street musicians and managed to study with Paco de Lucia, the greatest flamenco guitarist of our time.

I started playing classical guitar when I was five. My father’s hands exploded across the strings like fireworks. I practised while he instructed and criticized. I played till I had sharp pain in my fingertips. By age seven, I was called a child genius.

Then, at 11, I quit. Heartbroken, my father distanced himself. Guiltily, I followed suit. Soon we spoke only when necessary. Our relationship didn’t rebound until, in my early 20s, I found myself pulled back to guitar.

When I was in my early 30s, he got sick. Before he died a few years later, my father told me there were almost no female flamenco guitarists in the world. If I kept practising, I could be one of the first. I promised, and he left me his guitar. But after he died, I couldn’t bear to play it. He’d spent so much time with his arms around that instrument, and it seemed an extension of his own body. Holding it gave my grief an unbearable tangibility (可触知). So for 13 years it sat mostly untouched, coming out only when my son Ellis begged to see it. He was careful with his grandfather’s instrument in a way that made me want to pass it down to him — both the guitar and the music. Problem was, I couldn’t really play anymore.

Now, Antonia is sitting with me in her living room, teaching me patiently. I have been here for only two days, and already my fingers hurt. It’s a sharp pain, like when a fallen-asleep limb (肢体) returns to life. The feeling delights me. It means I’m doing something right.

7 . Surgeon General Dr. Vivek Murthy recently declared children’s mental health is a national crisis.

In December 2021,Dr.Murthy issued a report to highlight the additional pressures the COVID- 19 pandemic(流行病)had put on the country’s youth, and the urgent need to address this. The impact of this crisis is far-reaching, and new research shows that it’s affecting parents’well-being, plus their ability to succeed at work and provide for their families.

“On Our Sleeves, a national movement that aims to break shame around children’s mental health, surveyed more than 3,000 working parents across the US and found that eight in 10 parents are very concerned about their child’s mental health and development or behavior in the past two years. Children’s mental health concerns have been hiding in plain sight for many years, surrounded by confusion and shame,”says Marti Bledsoe Post, the director of On Our Sleeves.

The survey found that 53% of working parents have missed work at least once per month to deal with their children’s mental health. And 71% of parents said issues with their child’s mental or emotional well-being made the stresses of work much more difficult to cope with.

“Employers need to know that many of their employees are struggling and it impinging their work as a result,”says Bledsoe Post.“Our mission with On Our Sleeves is to provide every family in America access to free, evidence-based educational resources. We see this study as incredibly important in starting the conversation and providing solutions for working families.”

As Morin points out, for some parents, taking a child to weekly treating appointments, attending and meetings at school consumes a lot of time. These parents should be helped, but how?

8 . It was another day of class. As the students practiced parkour (跑酷), a mother and her child walked past. “What are they doing, mum?” the child asked. “They are putting themselves in danger and it is something I will never want you to do,” the mother replied.

I drew back with worry and painful acceptance. What has happened to the natural love of movement in humans, and what will happen to the future generations when technology and convenience are controlling our daily lives?

We recently had a Parkour for Everyone workshop at Bishan. I remember very clearly when Fagan was giving instructions to a group, a young child ran up to a tall pillar (柱子) and started to climb it till a high height with a 2-metre drop. Of course, Fagan called him back due to safety concerns. But deep down, I knew a lot of us were smiling within. Such natural bravery is admired and in my opinion, is a must for achieving success in life.

Parkour is starting to get popular, but many parents do not understand it. Even I hesitate when I tell them I am a parkour coach. I can see their wonder, fear, or dislike. I get tired of explaining its life-changing benefits. Actually, there is a deeper meaning behind why parkour is practised. There is a huge surge of physical and emotional freedom that comes along with its practice.

Fortunately, times are changing. If the parents who do not like this art are positively changed by it, there will be no more doubt in the power that parkour can bring to man. My hope is that the day will come when it is common for parents to put aside electronic products and spend time moving and playing with their children in the open field. Children will grow in imagination and confidence, learning more about the spirit of play.