The Power of Perception
On the north lawn at West Point, poised on a tip of land overlooking the Hudson, is a cauldron full of stones encircled by an enormous steel chain. Visitors often pause there to take pictures. It reeks of significance. People video the stones and muse about their origin as if, perhaps, they might have been carried there from Plymouth Rock itself. It's funny though, the cauldron and the rocks aren't important in the least. It's the chain that has a story.
The 114 lb links were actually strung together back in the 1700’ s to prevent British ships from passing through the channel. The natural S curve of the Hudson in this area would force the ships to slow enough that an ingeniously designed underwater barricade would thwart their passage onto the river. The chain, in its entirety, was 600 ft in length. Its total weight was 65 tons. It was like an inanimate Red Rover wall taunting the British to try to break through if they dared.
While the creativity behind the chain was definitely what we now like to call "outside the box" thinking, the actual implementation of the concept was off the charts. I can see the pioneers in a big roundtable meeting next to a fire in the woods: "Great idea guys! Love it! Now who's going to carry this one over there to the other side?"
While the creativity behind the chain was definitely what we now like to call "outside the box" thinking, the actual implementation of the concept was off the charts.
Ultimately, an elaborate system of ropes and pulleys that not only enabled assemblage but also allowed for adjustments to tides and currents was employed. Each link in the chain was placed on a wooden raft and floated across the channel, one by one, to be anchored to its neighbor thus constructing a web of steel protecting American turf. The labor was intensive, the game plan ingenious. And it did exactly what it was designed to do. Without doing anything at all.
See, no ship ever tried it. Not one. Tests performed much later revealed that the chain was actually incapable of stopping a British vessel, regardless of its speed. Had any ever dared to pass, they could have, despite the intricate American plan.
The chain worked without working.
And it's proudly displayed at our United States Military Academy as a result. It’s on THE FRONT LAWN. It was 28 degrees the day I toured West Point. I laughed out loud staring at the historic Hudson River as my breath froze in the air between me and the chain. What irony! We think of our Nation's Army as brawn and guts personified. And it is! So is the chain! But the effectiveness of this oversized underwater fence came not from what it did but from what the opponent feared it could do.
“Told you” said poker players everywhere. And so, “touche”. There are lots of ways to win.
Our basketball team had scheduled a game with Army, that’s why we were there on the front lawn to begin with. We wanted to face solid pre-conference competition, we wanted our players to walk around in the garb of history, if only for a bit, and we wanted to feel the discipline of a culture that’s founded on sacrifice and respect and bottom lines. Everything about visiting there gave us a chance to leave better than we were when we arrived. So, despite the frigid temperatures, we took the full monte tour.
We traipsed from building to building admiring the statues, learning from our student tour guide how the structures came to be and why they were so aptly named. We ate lunch with the cadets in the mess hall—all 4,000 of them—where we got a venerable lesson in not messing around. They’re served in approximately 6 minutes and have all of 24 to eat. Dawdling is not allowed.
Late in the afternoon, we ducked into the athletic building to find a bathroom and rediscover feeling in our limbs. As I shook my hands begging the blood flow to return, I noticed a larger than life mural that stretched from the ceiling to the floor for the entire length of the hall. Smack dab in the middle of it was Sunny Barse. Sunny had played basketball for me at Norman High School 15 years earlier. She was a two sport phenom, a native American, and a smart as a whip kid. She chose West Point—or maybe they chose her—because everything she was and wanted to be was who they were. She went there to study and to serve and to spike a volleyball. And she did so beautifully, or she wouldn’t have been on the wall.
I was so proud of her my buttons would have popped off if they weren’t so heavily pinned down by the layers. Proud, but not surprised. Sunny always made winning look easy. And it was pretty much all she had ever done. She was a smooth lefty who ran softly on her toes, playing expressionlessly most of the time whether blocking shots or spiking volleyballs. Off the court, she had a broad smile and dimples, and when she was really happy, eyes that took a back seat to make room on her face for more teeth. Sunny was built for the order and responsibility of the Army. She was a show up and get the job done kind of girl, a warrior princess on that wall in double breasted grays. I took a picture and sent it to her mom.
Sunny graduated from West Point with volleyball honors and records that have stood the test of time, but if she were writing a resume, I’d suggest she not put that first. It’s not even close to the most impressive thing she’s done. Because Sunny is Grace’s mom.
Sunny graduated from West Point with volleyball honors and records that have stood the test of time, but if she were writing a resume, I’d suggest she not put that first. It’s not even close to the most impressive thing she’s done. Because Sunny is Grace’s mom.
Grace, the firstborn of Sunny and Marcus Novacheck, was born with Escobar Syndrome, a rare congenital disorder that hinders joint development and limits mobility. Because of the joint disfigurement, her legs are disproportionate in length, her hands are twisted and curved, and swallowing and eating have been a rugged road trip her whole life. Grace has had 33 surgeries. She’s 14 years old. And that stinks. It’s just not okay any way you look at it.
And neither is Grace…okay, that is. She’s unbelievable.
Grace has her own YouTube channel that she built with her dad. Together, with the help of her spunky little sister, Iris, and an occasional cameo by her mom, they have created a platform for spreading joy. Grace is the little protagonist; her dad, Marcus, also a West Point graduate, and Grace’s ace assistant, is her foil. They have become quite the social media team.
Grace plays masterful piano and tennis and volleyball., just like her mom. She rides horses, too. She does chores and gets an allowance. She even got her own cell phone when she turned 12. She’s smart and she’s funny, and she is as headstrong as they come. You know in the movie, As Good As It Gets, when Jack Nicholson (aka Melvin Udall) looks at Helen Hunt and says, “You make me want to be a better man.” Well, that’s how everybody feels when they meet Grace. You walk away and recognize on a really tangible level what a whining, settling, disappointing sack of humanity you really are. Because next to Grace we’re all pretty much chopped liver. She makes you want to try harder just by being who she is.
This little engine that could isn’t perfect, but she is remarkable in more ways than I can count. Of course she is: she has a warrior princess for a mom and Spartacus for a dad. I have a brain that can’t find its way around what it takes to shape a spirit like that. Sunny and Marcus have raised Grace in a home of expectation. Not the smothering plastic bag over your head kind, but the shoulder’s back look where you’re going kind. I feel certain Stockdale’s Paradox is piped in through the air conditioning vents of their home. Wrapped in the kind of faith that tethers you, Team Novacheck soldiers on, they do not look back, and they do not leave one another behind.
A lot of things have had to work, and a lot of things have had to work without working for Grace to be Grace. Her disability carries with it as its ace a genetic code that argues with what the doctors do. So, every time they straighten out her limbs, her body fights to put them back the way they were. I can imagine that the occasions have been many when a bluff was required to get Grace ready for a procedure, or a recovery protocol or a rehabilitation plan. And, undoubtedly, there have been strategies put into place that everybody prays the disability doesn’t try. Pioneer engineering, unwavering commitment to a course of action, faith in the power of a plan that may not be discernible to the naked eye—Grace’s life has a lot in common with that chain that lays in honor on the United States Military Academy’s front lawn.
A fair amount of success is stunting. Are great poker players great because they always get the best cards or are they great because they make the other guy believe they're holding the best cards? Hard to say. Maybe a little bit of both. There are lots of ways to win. You can outthink, you can out muscle, you can out-maneuver. Or you can bet the house on the other guy not having enough moxie to beat you.
One thing is for certain: perception can be reality. In battle, in sport, in competition with a ruthless disability, "what is" really matters. But maybe "what might be" matters just as much.
Sherri Coale
P.S.
Grace is a force of nature. Be sure to check her out on all social media platforms. And keep an eye on little sister Iris, too…mom’s athletic records might be in jeopardy.