Conscious Competence and fresh meat otters

A derby post! YAY!

The fresh meat sessions have started back and I've been lucky enough to assist coaching both sessions so far. It's incredible to think that a year ago I was in their skates, and now I'm helping them perform transitions and turnaround toe-stops!

With school starting back recently we've had a few professional meetings and seminars on teaching and pedagogy, and one thing I learned in particular really stuck out as useful in derby coaching and learning.

The theory is that there is four stages to learning a new skill. For the sake of coaching, I'll use the example of transitions.

The first stage is unconscious incompetence. This is the stage where you don't know how little you know. You see your coach do a transition and go through the steps. You look at how it's done, and maybe think it looks pretty doable. Think of when you went to your first derby session. Did you think you could pick up skating really quickly? Did you (like me) think that because you skated years ago you'd be onto it in no time? Welcome to unconscious incompetence.

http://freshmeatotter.tumblr.com. Go there.

The second and most dangerous stage is conscious incompetence. This is the known unknown, when you realise that what you're learning is actually really hard. You try transitions moving for the first time, and fall on your ass. You can do it stationary, but not rolling. You can do it rolling on a straight line, but not on the track. You can do it on one side OKish, but the other side feels so wrong you can't begin to describe. You get frustrated, and it's tough. This is dangerous, because this is when a lot of people give up. I'm as guilty of this as anyone else. I can transition. Sort of. I can transition clockwise pretty well, but counter-clockwise? Absolutely not. What was my response to this last year? Stop worrying about it, put it in the "Later" pile, and move on to other things. Think about all the skills you've been shown or tried out. The guitar gathering dust in the attic. The skateboard you fell off as a kid an hour after you unwrapped it at Christmas that ended up in a garage sale (mine had the Ghostbusters logo on it). Realising that something is difficult and having the determination to learn it anyway takes a lot of mental fortitude and it can seem impossible and intensely frustrating to proceed to....

Conscious competence. That one day when you come to training and they make you do a transition drill as a warm up. This time, you decide to try and turn on the whistle. Every time. No matter what. And this time, you manage it. Not every time, not always perfectly, and you can't really talk to anyone or think much beyond where to put your feet while you're doing the drill, but you can transition. Welcome to conscious competence, when you're over the hump of stage two and you can start to see a way forward. Such a good feeling! Now, as long as you stick with it and keep going, you'll move up to the pinnacle, the stage we call....

Unconscious competence. Your body can move without your mind thinking about it. When it all seems to flow at a molecular level, and you can spin, transition, skate backwards and stop without nary a thought. Think about that start jammer in your league, who can transition at speeds you reckon you could maybe crack going forwards with a favourable wind. Think about watching Suzy Hotrod or Stefanie Mainey on DNN and wondering how the hell they manage to do that. Years of training and honing skills have got them to the point of unconscious competence and it's a place we can all get to with enough time and determination.

The reason I thought this was so useful as a coach and a skater is it's a reminder that just because something is difficult doesn't make it impossible. Bonnie Thunders wasn't born with an innate ability to do the things she does, it's come out of practice. So when we were doing transition drills yesterday at the rink, I decided to stop making excuses. I grit my teeth, and started transitioning on my "gumby" side. Time after time after time. I didn't let myself give up. Am I at unconscious competence? Not even close. But I'm definitely getting over the hump and I hope to be there by the end of the season. The fact I'm giving myself a long enough time frame means that I'm well aware of how hard I find it, but also that I know it's achievable.

The last part of this little lecture concerns how we feel when something is difficult. Teachers love acronyms, and we learned about NAK.

N- Notice your feelings. Does the drill make you anxious? Nervous? Will you find an excuse to check your pads, retie a lace, or talk to a latecomer if you're told you're doing it? Do you feel frustration rising when it's nearly your turn to go through the paceline? Identify how what you're doing makes you feel.

Unconscious competence, right there. Photo: Asa Frye

A- Accept them. There's nothing wrong with finding something difficult. Even if your coach is telling you the drill is silly and easy, it's OK for you to not enjoy it. You will find some drills and skills hard, if you don't you are a terrifying automaton that needs to be KILLED WITH FIRE.

K- Keep at it! Don't let that dislike of the drill or fear of failure stop you from succeeding. Think about how you can better improve. Can you talk to a sympathetic coach or a more experienced player and ask them to run through it again? Can you go to a public skate session and try it when there's nobody watching you? (this was me with swoops. Hours on a half-empty rink. Hours). I once watched a skater try a drill for about twenty minutes, failing over and over again but her determination and grit pushed through the frustration and anger at herself she obviously felt and she finally succeeded. It was glorious to watch and must have been even better to be the one succeeding.

With the new season upon us and new skaters joining the sport (HI!) I felt this was really useful to me as a coach and as a skater. I'd be really keen to hear your thoughts and any feedback you might have.