My African Polo Adventure: The Zambian Boys School Tournament

by Ava-Rose Hinkson

Winston Churchill once said, “Polo is the passport to the world.” and anyone who plays the sport of polo competitively will agree with that quote. Polo is one of the oldest team sports, with records of the sport dating back to the 6^th century B.C. when it was played by mounted nomads in central Asia and later Persia. The game became Persia’s national sport and was only played by nobility and the military before spreading eastward. The modern game of polo originated in Manipur in northeastern India, where a British military lieutenant saw a game being played and insisted that he and his troops learn the game. The Hurlingham rules were printed and brought back to the British Isles. Soon after, the King of Sports, Sport of Kings spread through the British commonwealth like wildfire.

The sport of polo is played on the back of highly trained, seven-foot-tall, twelve-hundred-pound running machines, known as polo ponies. It is important to note that the term “polo ponies” is a bit misleading, as the equines used are full-sized horses.  The sport would not be possible without the horses. The horses make up seventy-five to eighty percent of the game, so the equine athletes are treated better in polo than in any other equestrian sport. Each player owns his or her own “string “of polo ponies, with each string consisting of three to seven horses. Each string of horses has one to three caretakers or “grooms” assigned to them. The horses are exercised six days a week, are only fed the best grain and hay and have regular vet check-ups to keep the horses as healthy and happy as possible. The well-being of the horse is top priority in every aspect of polo.

The polo field is three-hundred yards long by one-hundred-and-sixty yards wide- the equivalent to nine football fields. The objective of the game is to score goals against the opposing team. Players will score by driving a 3”x3” hard-plastic ball through the opposing team’s goal with a long-handled mallet made of bamboo and hardwood. The sport is played in seven-minute periods, known as chukkers, and each game consists of four to six chukkers. Polo is an extremely complex game, and it takes dedication, many hours in the saddle and barn, and years of hard work to become an effective player on the field. A player must be able to not only know the game and hit the ball but most importantly, be an excellent rider. 

 I have grown up surrounded by horses and have been riding for a long as I can remember. My mother competed in 3-day eventing at an advanced level, and my dad is a long-time international polo player. It was only a matter of time before I became addicted to the most amazing sport in the world. I have been playing polo competitively for 5 years and it has changed me and given me opportunities I never would have thought possible. For the past three years, I have had the chance to plan polo tours around the world. Working with presidents of national polo associations to bring teams of American juniors to play in clubs around the world has been, and continues to be, an incredible experience. 

One of my most exciting and exotic opportunities was given to me when I was contacted by the president of the Zambian Polo Association. He invited me to bring an American junior team to play in the Zambian Boys School Tournament against Kenya and two teams from Zambia in late summer of 2019. Of course, I accepted this invitation without a heartbeat of hesitation.

The tournament is a historic part of Zambian polo that is only hosted by the Zambian Polo Association every few years. We would be going to play with juniors whose grandparents competed in this very event decades ago. With the roots of tradition running deep in the Zambian polo families, everyone on the team knew the competition was going to be fierce.

One of the best parts of traveling for polo abroad is meeting the people. This trip was no exception. After landing and getting settled with our Lusaka hosts, the Americans were off to meet the African teams over dinner. The first dinner was a complete success, with a night filled with laughs, some lighthearted but competitive chatter, and some incredible food. The next day we traveled to the Lumbombo polo club in Mazabuka by bus and had the opportunity to see the vast expanse of completely wild and unforgiving terrain that is Africa. (By the way, road trip drive-through food in Zambia is a cob of maze that is roasted over an open fire by villagers and it’s delicious.)

After finally arriving in Masabuka, the junior teams had pony trials and each player met their pony master- a person who oversees the mounting of a player and assisting in pony line ups. It was an exciting day of riding a number from 17 to 20 absolute machines of horses. These were the kind of horses that riders remember by name for years to come. I never thought it was possible, but at the end of the day, we had too many good horses. When the time came, the sight of the sun setting behind the cane fires was beautiful and was a relief to all of us who had such an exhausting day.

The next day we awoke to the smell of fresh coffee, crepes, and muesli. After finishing breakfast, the hosting family gave us a tour of their farm and a glimpse at the turning gears behind their massive operation. The hosting family’s massive seven hector sugarcane plantation, where we stayed, was a little oasis in the vast African landscape.

 After our touring and informative morning, it was time to head to the polo club for our six-chukker match against the Kenyans. It was our first taste of just how competitive the rest of the tournament would roll out to be. It was a hard-fought, fast-paced game. As the Americans were trying to click as a team and find our pace, the Kenyans incredibly talented players came out as the winners at the end of the game.

The second day of the tournament, USA faced off against Zambia team A. From the second the ball hit the ground in the first throw-in, the Zambians didn’t give us an inch to breathe. It was quickly determined to be an open, hit-and-run game, with the defensive players on each team consistently sending the ball 80-100 yards. Even with the American team having a better feel of their horses and their teammates' abilities, the Zambians got a three-goal lead in the last chukker and pulled off the win.

 On the day of the final tournament, we arrived at the field feeling more middle-aged than teenagers. We all had a good laugh as the battered yet determined American team limped past the stands. The last two days of extremely intense games had finally begun to catch up with us, as more than half our team was literally being held together by sports tape and ibuprofen. Our last game was against the talented Zambia team B. After some good-humored joking with the Zambians and Kenyans as we stretched our sore and aching muscles, hopped on our ponies, and the final match began.

That evening we had the after-party of our lives, and the Zambian parents went the extra mile to ensure that all the juniors would really have the opportunity to bond. This tour gained friendships that will last a lifetime. One could not have asked for a more competitive yet clean tournament. We all walked away having learned to be better horsemen, players, and people thanks to the great players that call the wild continent of Africa home. We had been pushed to our physical and mental limits as athletes and horsemen and we loved every second of it. 

 After traveling to play polo for three years, I have realized that even though we are playing polo, it is a different game everywhere you go. The techniques and training are so different in Jamaica than in Zambia, or Barbados than America.

The animals, scenery, people, and experiences were beyond anything anyone of us could have imagined. From a small farm town in central Florida to playing at a legendary polo club with some of the most passionate junior players I’ve met, I still can’t believe I was blessed enough to travel to such an awe-inspiring place. 

 

 Following our unforgettable and exhilarating three-day tournament, the Zambians sent us on a chartered flight for a photographic safari in the Lower Zambezi. The Royal Zambezi was an elegant safari camp that was meant to impress and astound. From the pure African views to the peaceful river and fishing tours to the wild and exciting safaris, the experiences at the Royal Zambezi left their fantastic impression on everyone. Nothing shakes your very soul like looking dead into the eyes of an inquisitive male lion who lounges scarcely ten feet away. Turning to gaze straight up into the snoozing face of a leopard who sprawls out in a branch directly overhead is one of the most imposing and terrifying sights. Reeling in an elusive, air-breathing Vundu catfish or netting a fearsome, fang bearing Tigerfish is the most triumphant and thrilling moment for any avid angler.  

On our flight back to the Lusaka airport on our charter flight, I found myself reflecting onto the days on the safari in the African bush. We saw everything from tiny wood doves, to some of Africa’s apex predators, to the critically endangered pangolin, unfortunately the most trafficked mammal in the world. I savored the fresh memories of fishing on the great Zambezi, scanning the banks and cliffs for any flicker of movement that might behold some approaching creature. I glanced over to my teammate Cipriano Echezarreta, who had thoughtfully been looking down upon the multitude of small scattered villages, and as we shared a knowing grin, I could tell we thought the exact same thing, “We actually did Africa.”

Phi Theta Kappa Induction Ceremony

 by Carolyn Moore

To fully appreciate the significance of my induction into Phi Theta Kappa, it is important to know some history. Brought up in an urban middle-class home, with three older brothers, my family appeared to be picture perfect, at least from the outside. A closer look from the right angle would reveal the truth. As a young child, deception, rejection, and sexual abuse was the predominate theme in my home. As a result, I had a hard time staying focused in school and my grades suffered. Although it was a struggle to the finish line, I graduated high school with a 1.64 grade point average.

Fast forward 30 years. After raising two sons on embarrassingly low wages, I decided it was time to pursue my real career-- a Psychologist. With a passion to help others to experience healing after abuse, I fought past the thoughts of inadequacy and failure, and enrolled in my first classes in January 2020. Since then, my evenings and weekends have been devoted to studying. I will be the first to tell you, it has not been easy. As a matter of fact, after a quick examination in the mirror, I discovered my gray hair has multiplied!

When I received an invitation to join Phi Theta Kappa Honor Society, I sobbed. My hard work and dedication was paying off! Immediately, I accepted the invitation and sent in my $100 one- time membership fee.

Phi Theta Kappa Honor Society, the international honor society of two-year colleges, was established in 1918. According to the Phi Theta Kappa page on the CF Portal, “The purpose of Phi Theta Kappa shall be to recognize and encourage scholarship among college students. To achieve this purpose, Phi Theta Kappa shall provide opportunity for the development of leadership and service, for an intellectual climate for exchange of ideas and ideals, for lively fellowship for scholars, and for stimulation of interest in continuing academic excellence.” Phi Theta Kappa is an international organization and the “largest in American higher education” with over 1.5 million members. To qualify students must have completed 12 hours, earning a 3.5 grade point average or higher (“Phi Theta Kappa”). As mentioned earlier, Phi Theta Kappa membership is by invitation. It was an honor and privilege to participate in the Phi Theta Kappa virtual induction ceremony.

 

We began the evening displaying patriotism for our great country. To honor our nation, we stood at attention and saluted the flag while reciting the Pledge of Allegiance. Afterward, Dr. Jim Henningsen, President of the College of Central Florida, congratulated all students who were receiving this prestigious award for their academic achievements. 

Dr. Charles McIntosh, Chairman for the Florida Criminal Justice Educators Association, was our first guest speaker. His topic of study was to the 7^th Generation Inheritance and Legacy. According to Dr. McIntosh, the original meaning implored us to make every decision with the future of 7 generations in mind. However, modern society has revised the meaning to include making purposeful decisions about the way we use energy, water, and natural resources to ensure sustainability for the next seven generations.

In an effort to find greener ways to bring affordable energy to our homes, Dr. McIntosh asked us to consider our personal consumption and offered sensible small steps for conservation. He suggested shutting devices off when they are not in use, turning the air conditioning off when nobody is home, and encouraged us to discontinue discarding ½ full water bottles. Dr. Charles McIntosh left me pondering, what will I leave for the next seven generations? What will my legacy be?

Dr. Lynn Tincher-Ladner, President and CEO of Phi Theta Kappa Honor Society, was our final guest speaker. She talked about the differences between generations. She defined generations as groups of people born and experiencing life at about the same time. According to Dr. Tincher-Ladner, combining generations in academic settings, as well as in the work place, allows new ideas to develop due to diverse experience and backgrounds. She believes that Baby Boomers are dependable workers with a strong work ethic. She adds that Generation X are independent, abhor micro-managing, and value flexible work schedules. The Generation Y- Millennial’s are confident, ambitious, highly adaptable and achievement oriented (Tincher-Ladner). Finally, she said that Generation Z are action focused and are the first generation who does not know a world without technology. 

 

Dr. Tincher-Ladner suggested that attending a community college prepares the student for life and work in ways they may not have expected. Since the community college students range from Baby Boomers to Generation Z, she believes the diversity benefits not only the student but also the classroom and campus.

She continued by saying that Phi Theta Kappa provides participants an edge by allowing them to work in diverse groups to solve complex problems that impact our community and world. Finally, Dr. Tincher-Ladner announced the Phi Theta Kappa Generation and described us as a generation that represents the best of the best from Baby Boomers to Millennials.

Considering this was the first Phi Theta Kappa Induction Ceremony held in a virtual setting, it was organized and inspiring. Kicking the evening off with the salutation to the flag was an excellent choice; it stirred up a sense of unity among the members and inductees. The camaraderie continued as Dr. Charles McIntosh challenged each of us to consider how we steward our resources on a personal level. It is easy to sit back passively, thinking that our personal decisions will not make a difference for future generations; however, that is untrue and irresponsible. Wrapping up the evening, Dr. Lynn Tincher-Ladner tied the evening together as she presented the Phi Theta Kappa Generation: A forward thinking, multi-generational honor society, working together for the good of the community. I encourage each student to do his or her best academically, connect with fellow students, and if presented the invitation, join Phi Theta Kappa Honor Society. Life is better together! 

 

 Works Cited

“Phi Theta Kappa.” College of Central Florida, https://www.cf.edu/go/honors/ptk/). 

The Lure of Cigarettes and the Lie they Tell

 by Carolyn Moore

For those who do not smoke, they may wonder why people light up in the first place. On a micro-level, some may have smokers in their nuclear or extended family, where cigarettes are readily available. Others smoke to feel comfortable in social situations. I was walking around with a pack of cigarettes at 6. I believed the lie that smoking was a socially acceptable behavior. Often young people feel a sense of camaraderie as they sneak a smoke with their peers.  Regardless of how a smoker's journey begins, all will agree, it is a hard habit to kick. 

My cigarette story begins at the local C&E drug store, at 6. My mom was a school bus driver and always took me to work with her to avoid sending me to a babysitter. On a middle level, between high school and elementary school runs, the school bus drivers would gather to socialize in the café, at the rear of the drugstore. Although my mom didn’t smoke, most of the school bus drivers were smokers and smoking was permissible inside establishments. As a young, impressionable girl, I watched intently as the men would respectfully light the women’s cigarettes as they shared their stories and laughed.  

On a micro-level, from time to time, as a special treat, my mom would take me down the drug store candy aisle and allow me to pick out something. There it was, right at my eye level, Victory candy cigarettes!  I wanted to fit in with my mom's friends and join in on their morning fun. With no qualms, mom purchased the candy cigarettes. Immediately, I imitated the school bus drivers. Gracefully, I would pull out a candy cigarette from the very realistic cigarette package, and I would pretend to inhale the cigarette and exhale the smoke. I felt a sense of belonging as they positively reinforced my behavior. 

Fast forward about eight years, I was a teenager who was overweight, introverted and trying to deal with more than my share of family issues. In my mind, I only wanted three things, and that was to feel loved, to be thin and to fit in. On a macro-level, the tobacco industry’s glamorous, exciting, and portrayed-as-safe magazine advertisements had a large influence on me. I fantasized about a different future as I viewed the Newport “Alive with Pleasure!” magazine advertisements. They claimed, “After all, if smoking isn’t a pleasure, why bother?”  The marketing executives knew what they were doing as they grabbed the viewer's attention with their sexual innuendo’s, leading the reader to read between the lines. The beautiful and playful women, accompanied by the hottest men, were laughing, and having a great time. They had the life that I wanted.  

On the middle-level, at 15, I found myself drawn to the crowd of kids who hung out on “the wall.” The wall was where all the cool kids hung out at my high school. Others argued that they were better known as the rebels. They all met before school, just off the school property, to hang out and smoke. Desiring to fit in, I purchased my first pack of cigarettes and pretended to inhale. It reminded me of my younger days at the C&E drug store, only this time I was smoking the real thing.  I remember the first time I inhaled; there was a burning in my throat, and I coughed uncontrollably. I even threw up the first few times that I inhaled the tobacco. 

By my 16th birthday, I would be considered a closet smoker. My cigarette smoking had grown from meeting with peers outside the school grounds to sneaking outside my bedroom window.  Nobody in my nuclear or extended family smoked and although, on a micro-level, my mother bought me my first candy cigarettes, they strongly disapproved of my smoking nicotine-packed cigarettes. When I graduated high school, I was smoking a pack of cigarettes a day and using nicotine to sooth and numb my emotions. They appeared to distract me from the stresses of everyday life. I believed that cigarettes made my life more manageable, and smoking was socially acceptable behavior. I developed ritualistic habits with plenty of triggers. With my unquenchable cravings for a cigarette, I believed that no meal was complete without one, and a cup of coffee and a cigarette went hand in hand. If I had one option, I preferred cigarettes over food. 

As I moved into my single thirties, I found pleasure dressing with class and elegance while sipping wine with influential men, as we smoked fine cigars at five-star food establishments. I used smoking as a socialization tool, as is portrayed in the middle- level. I was reinventing the Newport advertisements in my life, without even recognizing it. To outsiders, I was well put together and a social butterfly. I was no longer in control of the cigarettes; they had taken control of me and my life. I planned my day around smoking cigarettes. My addiction sadly had become central in my life. They were my idol. After the lure and seduction of smoking dissipated, I found myself chained to the guilt of my addiction and covered with the shame of the deception that I bought into. 

 

Transitioning from my thirties to forties, I had a religious experience and examined the effects of cigarette smoking. I noticed the fine lines had formed around my lips, the smell of tobacco that infused my clothing, and the shortness of breath that had me reaching for my inhaler.  Wanting to escape the death grip of cigarettes, I tried self-help suggestions. I bought nicotine patches, received hypnosis, and tried to quit cold turkey without success. When I finally had come to the end of myself, I called out to Jesus for help. He rescued and delivered me from the stronghold that nicotine had firmly established in my life. With a big thank you to Jesus, I am celebrating 5 years of being smoke free. 

Effects of Distance Learning

By Kathy Gilliam

As a result of the Covid-19 schools have had to transition into a distance learning program for the students. This happened very quickly and has affected many people: the parents, teachers, and most of all the students. The learning from home process is either done with packets made up by the teachers or online. I can only write about what we have done at our school; different schools may have different procedures

From the teacher’s point of view my first thoughts were the well-being of my “babies.” I would miss them greatly and, like many other teachers, worry about them every day like they were my own. I am a pullout teacher and help students who are struggling and need extra help. Therefore, I know it will not be easy for some of them to do the work unless they have someone to sit with them and help them read and understand it. I have seen the concern and the tears and the worry of the other teachers as they try so hard to make sure every student has what they need to do the work and understand it. They have tried to answer questions and be available to help when it was needed. They truly miss their students and will never forget the 2019/2020 school year.

As a parent I have also experienced it from the other side. I have a nine-year-old boy who is in third grade. He is very active and likes to be outside playing or working. So, it is frustrating to try to make him sit down and do work. I have other jobs I do, other than working at the school, so I know how parents feel trying to get their work done and teach the children. Like many parents I am old school and things were done very differently back then. Sometimes the new methods of teaching are difficult for us old-school parents to understand. It is very hard for parents to help our children with something we don’t understand. The process of working and teaching children from home is not an easy one, but I will say I am very impressed by the support and the dedication that I have seen from the parents.

The children! Oh, I can’t even begin to imagine what many of them are feeling: the fear, the frustration, the confusion. Their lives turned upside down in the blink of an eye: no school, no friends, and for many the need for food. So many students are missing a once in a lifetime event they worked so hard to achieve. They are missing out on the special events, like prom, grad night, walking the halls for the last time, and graduations, from the little ones to the seniors. Learning from home is not easy for some, they need the routine and the support. Many children will struggle next year as a result of having to do the distance learning. Some of the children will make it through this with just a memory to talk about later in life, but others will be affected for a very long time or even the rest of their lives from this experience.

The Journey from Struggle to Appreciation

by Landon Abshier 

Growing up I was never good at reading or writing. Taking the reading/writing portion of standardized tests when I was younger was always a nightmare. Because of these required examinations that I had to take when I was younger, I never grew to enjoy reading or writing due to my past struggles and lack of skill. However, as time went by, my taste for literacy began to change.

It all started in elementary school with my very first standardized test. I was so excited and prepared for it all at the time. I finished the test and felt pretty good about everything.  When the results came in, I passed in every category except for the reading/writing part of the test. I was devastated! Ever since that experience I have never had any desire to improve my writing skills because I thought that I would always be a terrible writer. And, to this day I am a very troubled reader. These experiences lowered my confidence when it came to anything related to school work.

On a positive note, today my relationship with reading and writing has improved. Nowadays, I enjoy spending a lot of time writing poetry. As far as reading goes, I do enjoy a good book every now and then. Struggling with reading and writing has definitely caused a lot of pain and discomfort, but as I continue to improve those skills I am learning to enjoy reading and writing.After one semester in an intensive reading class in high school, I improved my FSA score to a solid level 4 and my teacher, Ms. Garcia helped me to believe in myself. If it were not for my parents forcing me to pursue a college degree, I would not be enrolled today. Thankfully, they believe in me and push me; otherwise, I would not have attempted college at all. I am appreciative of my struggle because it taught me to be thankful for how much progress I have made when it comes to literacy.

The journey has so far has been bumpy, but if it weren’t because of my memories of failing over and over, I would have never had the drive or motivation to want to be better than what I used to be. I still have a lot of overcoming to do with my reading skills, but as for writing, I have completely fallen in love with it and I especially love writing poetry. Today my love for writing and creating works of art stretches beyond imagination and writing will forever be one of my favorite hobbies.

For Reading, For Sons, For Life

by Jennifer Britt

JK Rowling once said, “I think it is the books you read when you are young that stay with you forever.” As a young child, perhaps two years of age, when my mom and I would go to the grocery store she would buy me an apple and a Little Golden Book for special treats.  The Poky Little Puppy was my favorite, and forty years later I can still recall everything about that book. The first chapter book I remember reading was The Call of the Wild by Jack London.  Reading from the perspective of Buck was an experience I will never forget, and that story was permanently branded upon my heart and fanned my love for reading.  I must’ve read a thousand books since then, all genres, anything I can get my hands on. I’ve slipped away to lands near and far from the pages of a book. I’ve learned new customs, spoke different dialects, fell in and out of love with princes, ship captains, and bad boys, delved into a few self-help books, and I keep the Bible at hand at all times, because I love that book more than any other. I’ve cherished these times reading alone, and I never dreamed I could love sharing these experiences with anyone. However, my love for reading grew and became an even more important part of my life when I became a mom and began sharing the adventures, experiences, and characters from books with my sons.

Oh, the reading adventures I have been on and shared with my sons! From the pages of The Adventures of Tom Sawyer, we have drifted down the muddy Mississippi River on a make shift raft. We hid out in the cemetery with Huck Finn and watched in fear as ol’ Injun Joe stabbed and killed the doctor. We laughed and laughed when Tom Sawyer bribed and swindled his friend into whitewashing that fence, Tom getting an apple for his cleverness. I would laugh again many times after reading this book while watching my middle son, Toby, blond-haired, cowlick stubbornly sticking up on the right side of his forehead, barefooted (always), and a fishing pole swung over his shoulder, headed down to our own beloved river to fish. 

We’ve also shared many tears together while reading. Our biggest heartbreak came from the pages of Where the Red Fern Grows. We “watched” Billy pray and work hard to earn money to buy his little redbone puppies. We cheered for Billy when ol’ Dan and Little Ann learned to hunt and became the best coon

dogs around. We were on the edge of our seats, scared for Billy and Ol’ Dan and Little Ann when that mountain lion came from out of nowhere and attacked them. Our hearts pounded, and we would glance around at each other to see if everyone was as afraid as we were, hoping and praying they would all be alright. Then we cried, and we cried, and we cried when Ol’ Dan didn’t make it no matter how hard Billy’s mama tried. I had to stop reading and walk out to my front porch, to get some fresh air hoping to stop the violent shaking of my chest as my heart was being torn from my body only to look around and find myself surrounded by my three wonderful boys, all heartbroken as well and wanting to console me, make sure I was okay, and lighten the moment with some teasing about my not being able to read through the cracks in my voice. There’s no one else I would’ve wanted to share that experience with.

             

Together, we have learned valuable life lessons. We learned from a little prince what it means to be responsible with our friendships and that sometimes the heart can see what the eye cannot. And, while reading, I looked around at my own little princes and learned that moments like these were gifts not to be taken for granted. In the pages of Touching Spirit Bear, we learned the damage that anger can do to others and to ourselves if not controlled. We watched helpless as Cole fought to stay alive after the bear attack. We felt his hunger pangs. We winced as he threw up the grasses and worms he tried to eat to sustain himself. We were proud of him when he came to realize the pain he was putting himself through by hanging on to anger. We learned the power of forgiveness, and had several conversations about what it means to forgive someone when they’ve hurt us, how important it is to ask for forgiveness when we hurt others, and that sometimes the people we need to forgive the most is ourselves.

We grow intellectually when we read. Studies and statistics have proven this to be true. I believe we also grow emotionally, spiritually, and, potentially, as a better human through reading. I am a reader, always have been. I am also a mother.  To be able to combine these two loves, my love for reading and my love for my children, has been the greatest blessing of my life.  I have a quote pinned on my Pinterest account that says, “Reading to children even before they can understand words teaches them to associate books with love and affection.” I hope that our reading time together will become a treasured memory for them and enrich their lives as much as it has mine. I hope when they think back on the books we’ve read together, that they also recall the laughter, tears, and lessons we have shared. Mostly, I hope that “our story” becomes a favorite. After all, from the words of Margaret Atwood, “in the end we’ll all become stories.” 

 

Works Cited

Atwood, Margaret. Moral Disorder. McClelland and Stewart, 2006.