Owen’s mom looked over to me and said, “You get to experience Owen’s pure joy.” I didn’t know exactly what she meant at the time as Owen stripped down in preparation to run into the lake’s 40-degree water. Once he hit the water, though, there was no better description. Pure joy.

This is Alex. He’s one of the best teachers I’ve ever known, and could probably teach any subject well. He happens to be my jiu-jitsu teacher.

Just some quick info on the Gracie Academy brand/school of jiu-jitsu:

The philosophy of the school is that a smaller, weaker person can defend themselves against a larger, stronger opponent by using leverage and timing. This was first demonstrated to the world in the original UFC, which featured submission-only matches with no weight classes or time limits. Survival and control first, submission attempts when the opportunity presents itself. This lends itself to great self-defense applications as opposed to regular sport/point-based jiu-jitsu competitions. It is quite possible that a student from the Gracie school will not do well in regular time-limit competitions, but will have better survival skills in an arena where there are no rules. (As a small Asian kid growing up among white kids who were typically stronger and bigger than me, it’s not difficult to recognize the appeal of this philosophy to me.)

Anyway, on to this event. This year was the first year Gracie Nationals had a submission-only competition, which is the category Alex entered. I attended as a fan and student, and it was truly Gracie Academy philosophy on display as he went 38 minutes enroute to a win in his weight class.

I had just given Jason some final instructions on the first look, and was now checking-in and Laura to bring her over. I take a few quick pictures, and tell her that we’re going to walk over to see Jason and her face begins to beam and her eyes swell with tears from the anticipation. Her mom and friends are quick to calm the emotions down, and I lead her towards Jason. One final check with Jason to make sure he isn’t looking, and as I tell him that Laura is just about to come, HE starts tearing up too. It’s all I can do to not join them in this swell of joyous expectancy. I give Laura the final okay and she says his name, he turns around to see her and, well… it’s magic.

Alayna is a small little girl. After all, she is only one. But her parents and grandparents are very excited for her birthday, as all parents and grandparents are. With her fairy and butterfly themed decorations and her beautiful little dress, she is a bit confused by all the commotion but is still a gracious host, greeting her guests, blowing out her cake candle and even taking her naps. I almost feel like a guest at this party, and I try to document it the best I can so that someday Alayna can see the outpour of love on her from her family.

My first step into the house and I already know it’s going to be a great day. There is a buzz in the air, and people moving everywhere. The house is absolutely vibrating with anticipation. Mai-Anh sits behind a table buried in make-up kits with curlers in her hair, still in her pajamas, trying to relax with earbuds blocking out some of the craziness. This just feels like a wedding, and nobody even has say it. Across town, a normally calm and collected Carlos is stressing out about the traditional Vietnamese ceremony, trying to get all of his things in order. (I find that there is something endearing about people getting a little stressed on their wedding day.) This is the kind of energy, the kind of day, that no matter how hard you try, you just can plan for. And I’m just along for the ride.