BY HILLARY MORROW
I had an epiphany this weekend: we really DID learn everything we need to know in kindergarten. My trainer and I met at the PG Equestrian Center to school on Friday for the BEST Horse Show Indoor Summer Classic.
The schooling ring was, to put it mildly, a hot mess. There were ponies galloping about, a lead liner being led up and down the rail while several horses with red tail ribbons cantered by. And that’s before I even get to the pros, ammys and juniors trying to jump around.
I stood by the gate as my trainer schooled Patch. He’s not the bravest of creatures, so she usually jumps a few first, although on this particular Friday, he was actually calm, cool, and collected. He had felt so good on the flat that I almost stayed on and schooled him over fences myself. Which is why, when I heard a commotion in the ring, I was shocked to see it was my trainer no longer mounted and my horse looking very confused. I was sure he’d stopped dirty (because I’m always first to blame my children: human, equine, or canine). No, my trainer assured me as I timidly approached…another professional stepped directly in Patch’s path, and he lost focus.
The pro who cut Patch off proceeded to school horses with no regard for the safety of any other riders in the ring. She cut me off to the same jump. She acknowledged no one, apologized to no one, and seemed perfectly happy to put other riders in danger. We jumped a few and got the hell out of dodge; no one likes a schooling ring or a bully!
Fast forward to Saturday morning. There were a bunch of scratches in my ring, and I wasn’t at the show as early as I like to be. My trainer was running even later. I arrived, checked in, and headed to the ring to learn my course and get a timing update, trying to shake off my nerves from the schooling fiasco the day before.
Within three minutes of my arrival at the ring, I had four professionals approach and make sure my trainer was ok after her fall. The head shaking and eye rolling about the other pro in question were, in a weird way, gratifying. But, even more gratifying was that, as my class came closer and closer, all four of those pros offered to jump me around if my trainer didn’t make it in time.
My trainer and I live by the golden rule: smile and be nice, just like they taught us in kindergarten, and this was a perfect example of that behavior paying off. While I hoped my trainer would get there in time, I knew I’d be in good hands with the other pros, and that my trainer would be grateful for their help.
I have always been the “nice” one. Just ask my best childhood riding friend, Jorna. I always want everyone to do well, be safe, and hopefully, have fun. Growing up, I clapped for the girl who called me fat behind my back, and the trainer whose barn I left because she liked to pour Coke into tack trunks when kids left their tack out. It never hurt me to smile and be nice, and it often threw off the people who had been unpleasant. I continue to be pleasant to everyone, knowing from experience that a smile or a kind word can sometimes change someone’s entire day.
This sport is hard. We have good days and bad days. Horses have feelings and usually express them as dramatically as possible. My trainer lives by the adage “control what we can control”, and often that includes my own attitude. Being kind, offering a helping hand, or complimenting another rider’s horse cannot fix my day if it’s gone sideways, but what if it makes their day better? That, in turn, makes me feel better.
There were a few things I know I mastered in kindergarten that I use at every horse show, other than kindness. In kindergarten, I could count to ten. There are never more than ten obstacles in a hunter course. I knew my ABC’s, so I can make my way around the dressage arena if I’m moonlighting as a DQ or eventer. I was potty trained and feeding myself, which sounds silly, but ask any middle-aged amateur, and those are serious skills when also managing horses and nerves.
The most important thing is being kind; be kind to your horse, your trainer, your groom if you are lucky enough to have one, the riders you see week in and week out in the ring with you and, even, to strangers. The number of horse show friends I count on simply because we have smiled and laughed together in the midst of the chaos of a horse show day are many, and I value them all for their sincere smiles and our ability to laugh at ourselves!
Hillary Morrow lives with her husband, sons, dogs and cat in Columbia, Maryland. When not at the barn riding her TB hunter, Patch, or grooming for her son and his IEA teammates, Hillary runs Fairchild Educational Services, a full-service tutoring firm.
