Mastering It is a summer series to introduce you to Canadians who have sought to rise above being simply good at their chosen endeavour – and who, by perfecting their skill, strive to become the best.
About a year ago, Brienne Glasgow jumped off of a very high rock. Her dad had given her two rules: knees bent, mouth closed. But she forgot the second rule, and bit her tongue. It hurt.
But here’s the thing about Brienne: Where other kids might have walked away, she tried again. She did it again and again until she wasn’t afraid.
Brienne Glasgow tumbles during a lesson with instructor Maddie Camp at Pedalheads learn-to-bike school in Toronto last month.
Which is all to say that Brienne is a very courageous kid.
Here’s what else to know about Brienne: She’s six years old and weighs 43 pounds. She has Cabbage Patch Kid cheeks, and dark hair that she wears in braids. She likes books about how the body works, and science camp. She plays mommies and babies with her friends at recess – usually as mommy, but sometimes big sister if mommy is dead, because hey, come on, it’s just a game, it’s just pretend.
Brienne’s goal one day is to be a doctor or lawyer. Her parents are both lawyers. She wants to help people, which she says is what lawyers do.
But that’s years away. Today, Brienne has only one goal: to ride her bike without training wheels.
For little kids around the world, it’s a rite of passage. A milestone that represents the transition from little kid to big kid. One of the first times they learn to do something very important, entirely on their own.
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Every summer, parents help their kids to navigate this milestone. Some do it themselves, enduring days or weeks of skinned knees and temper tantrums. Others, like Brienne’s, outsource the task.
So, on a sunny Monday morning, Brienne arrived at a leafy park in Toronto’s Leaside neighbourhood for bike camp. The camp was like many others that Pedalheads, a learn-to-bike school, runs across the country. Brienne was ready, in her rainbow cat sunglasses and a round helmet that cast a pink halo around her head.
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There are three steps to riding a bike. There’s starting – gaining momentum to get going. There’s balancing. And then there’s stopping.
The first lesson to tackle that day was balance. That’s where Brienne had stumbled until this point. She kept leaning and toppling over.
It’s a tricky thing for anyone to master – especially little kids, still growing, still getting used to their arms and legs.
“For most of the kids, this is the first time they’ve had to do multiple things at once,” said Vanessa Giacomin, a Pedalheads manager. “Looking. Pedalling. Steering. It’s many different motions.”
As Brienne pedalled, her instructor, a 16-year-old named Maddie, jogged alongside, holding her steady. Once they returned to the starting point, Maddie said it was time for the training wheels to come off.
Instructor Sean Kehoe consoles Aylin as she learns to ride.
“Her pedalling is strong, and she knows to look forward,” she said. “You can tell she’s been practising.”
Wheels off, Brienne tried again. “A little wobbly,” she said.
The lesson of the day was balance. But as the hours unfolded, there were other lessons, too.
There was a lesson in kindness, as Brienne went careening toward a row of pylons. A four-year-old named Theo raced over to give her a thumbs-up and move the pylons out of the way.
There was a lesson in big feelings when Charlotte, a seven-year-old, toppled over, and howled, “I am SO FRUSTRATED!”
“Don’t get frustrated,” Brienne said to her quietly. “Just try again.”
And later still, a lesson in resilience. After a boy named Rowan fell, Brienne took his hand and sat with him.
After a long session of biking and balance practice, Rowan drags his bike back to start again.
“You just have to have a strong heart,” she said. He nodded.
By the afternoon, Brienne had made remarkable progress. She could glide and pedal. She could stop. But she still needed a boost to get started.
She kept practising, sunglasses on, what Maddie had taught her: the “elephant stomp,” pushing off with one foot to gain momentum, and then pedalling. But her 3½-foot frame – most of that knees and elbows – just couldn’t push hard enough.
So Maddie decided to switch tactics. She told her to use both feet to push. “Three big glides,” she said. “Then pedal.”
The sky was darkening, and the park was getting quieter. The kids were tired. Abandoned bikes lay strewn all over the grass. Pylons turned every which way, scattered like confetti. Raindrops began to fall.
And here was the lesson in persistence. Other kids huddled under the tree or played with wood chips. But Brienne stayed on her bike, still in her sunglasses, still practising. She wobbled, fell, then decided, over and over, to get back up again.
Brienne, centre, speeds up on her bike as instructor Maddie helps her stay balanced.
“Bigger glides!” Maddie shouted.
She tried again. One. Two. Three.
Brienne pushed her sneakers into the grass. A big glide. Then another.
She had gotten to this point after hours of practice with Maddie. And before that, there had been weeks and months with Dad. There had been tears and falls and tears again. Can’t. Can’t. Can’t. Until this point, her grown-ups had been there. Holding her steady, fixing the ouchies, cheering her along.
But here was a moment that was entirely up to her – here was the courage part. It was a leap that Brienne had to make entirely on her own. The first leap of many. She pushed off one last time – a strong push that sent her gliding across the grass – and took a breath.
And then she lifted up her feet and began to pedal.
She pedalled, sitting straight up in her seat. Eyes faced forward. She pedalled and pedalled. Halfway across the field. Her friends, behind her, getting smaller. Cheers growing louder.
Even with sunglasses on, you could see her smile from the other side of the park.
She had done it. She had done it.
Afterward, she raced back. There were jumping jacks, and high-fives and super-high-fives. Cheers with her pink water bottle, the one with the sticker that said “ZOOM.”
Where would she ride to next? Another smile, this one a little bit impatient.
“Everywhere.”
After hours of practice, Brienne gets ready to trying biking by herself.
