Steven LaChance Blog

In fact, I wasn’t.

When I was eleven, there was a kid in school named Dwayne Hayes. Everyone called him Didi. For reasons I never quite understood, he and I didn’t get along. Didi fancied himself a kung fu master. He was always kicking, spinning, throwing his legs into the air like he was auditioning for a movie. The other kids were terrified of him. They were convinced he could karate someone to death.

One day, Didi decided I was his next opponent.

All day long he told me that after school we were going to fight, and that he was going to use his best kung fu moves on me. I was scared. I had no idea how I was supposed to defend myself against someone who seemed to believe he was trained in the ancient arts of combat.

When school let out, there he was. The crowd gathered fast. Kids love a show, especially when they think someone is about to get taken down. Didi started circling me, making strange noises, lifting his arms and legs like he was summoning something ancient and deadly.

Then he made his move.

He lifted his leg high for a dramatic kick, and without thinking, I reached out, grabbed his foot, and pulled. He went down hard. I jumped on top of him and, in my own panic and adrenaline, delivered what I can only describe as my version of a kung fu punch.

That was the end of it.

Teachers broke it up. We both got in trouble. And oddly enough, from that day on, Didi never threatened me again. In fact, we became friends.

The lesson stuck with me. Most of the time, the things that scare us the most are built on noise and posturing. Once in a while, all it takes is standing your ground to realize the threat was never as powerful as it claimed to be.

And for the record, I wasn’t kung fu fighting. Not even close.