Confessions of a Michigan Prisoner

I have a confession to make: I am not an athlete. I never have been unless it comes to board games involving words. Then I can run circles around a lot of people. I like to (actually) run, lift weights, and generally stay in shape, but my eye-hand coordination prevents me from being a strong athlete in team sports. Nevertheless, this year I decided to play on a softball team in prison. There are two reasons I chose to play. The first is that I needed a diversion from the intensity of studying all the time. Playing softball gives me a physical outlet for what is otherwise a rather non-physical lifestyle. The second reason is that I am playing on a team of fellow (prisoner) college students, so it is a chance for me to participate in building community and camaraderie. I am not a complete lame when it comes to playing ball. I can get a decent hit occasionally, and I can field fairly well. Yet, I am not expected to hit well or play well by the other teams. It's not my size though--they've just seen me play. So why am I telling you this? Why make this confession, which isn't perhaps the kind of confession you were expecting, in a public forum? Most of you, my readers, probably don't know me, so it would be easy for me to paint a picture of myself that is a bit more flattering. If you listen to many of the men in prison, they are reluctant to admit any weakness and far too quick to brag about their supposed prowess in nearly everything. But I think it is healthy to be authentic, vulnerable, and sincere. If that means owning my clumsiness and admitting that I'm not much of an athlete, even if I wish I was, well, I don't mind revealing that part of me. Aristotle said that character is formed by practice of habit, so even though this confession isn't earth-shattering, it's a great way for me to practice the art of authenticity. How about you? How can you be authentic with the people in your life today?