I went to a nightly adult tae kwon do lesson and was changing in the locker room.

There were two girls doing the same, having just finished the last kid’s tae kwon do class of the day. I knew the girls because I have taught them both from time to time. But one young lady in particular happens to go to school with my youngest son; they’re in the same grade.

I noticed she was staring at me, which is not necessarily unusual for kids in a locker room. I smiled at her and she decided to talk to me.

“You’re DJ’s mom, right?”

“Yes,” I responded.

She waited a few moments and I thought that might be the end of our discussion, when suddenly she said,

“Man is he lucky.”

Now, she had my curiosity peaked. My sons don’t say much about what goes on at school. I think it’s a guy thing. So I figured she knew some juicy tidbit that a mother would want to know.

“Why is he lucky?” I couldn’t help but ask.

“His mom is very strong.”

It took me a moment to process what she was saying. You see, this girl had been at my 3rd dan black belt test last October. She witnessed my break test where I was the only woman in our school to break 2 concrete paving blocks standing on end like dominoes, no one holding them. It was a pretty amazing thing that I practiced with pads for weeks in advance. I didn’t try the real thing until the moment of my test, so even I didn’t know if I could pull it off until it happened.

This young lady was at the test as a student earning her first degree black belt, an achievement gained by few, especially at her age. But for that short moment, she watched me like I had just walked on water.

And for a split second, I thought I could.

I’m not inclined to be a hero. I’m happy and self-conscious at the same time when my martial arts skills are lauded. However, when I remember my youth, there were few women athletes I could admire.

Girls need role models. So for that reason, I’m humbled but willing to suffer a little hero worship