Being strong is seen as a positive trait. What does it mean to be strong? Is there only one kind of
strength? What does it take to define one’s self as strong—or not? If we want to be/feel strong,
what can we do to make this possible? The stories, Holding On, Stairs, and Energy explore
different kinds of strength and what it might take to feel strong.

• World Tale: Strength (African)
  
• Holding On
  
• Stairs
  
• Energy
  

Hare did not like Lion. He watched disapprovingly as Lion strutted about, destroying animal homes, eating what and where he wished, disregarding the damage he caused, roaring to hear the sound of his voice. Hare especially disliked Lion boasting, “There is no animal greater than me.”

Hare realized Elephant might be stronger than Lion but Elephant went about his business without bothering anyone. Elephant was not a fighter. If Lion decided to attack Elephant Hare thought Elephant would go away rather than stay and fight. 

One day, after hearing Lion strutting and boasting how strong he was, Hare decided he had to do something to stop Lion, but he was small, and he wasn’t a fighter. What could he do? For days he could not think of a plan. Maybe there was nothing to be done. 

I was studying Akido with a teacher who said very little but felt vitally connected to all of us students, gently and kindly suggesting small shifts in the way we were moving with almost no words. During a break, one man, as tall as our teacher but much heavier, began telling us how much weight he could lift. I saw our teacher watch. As the man talked, he looked at me, easily the shortest and smallest person in the class, as if to accentuate his strength and my weakness. I felt uncomfortable but remembered what our teacher said to do when we felt challenged—to breathe. I guess it helped a little.

I was teaching elementary school physical education, and like all teachers, had hall duty. Every
day I watched a beautiful little girl (I’ll call her Lilly) with cerebral palsy being carried up the
stairs by a big-for-his age, heavy-set boy (I’ll call him Henry). Her tone of voice was piercing,
commanding, strident—as if she were a spoiled princess talking to a servant. He meekly obeyed.

I was a graduate school student enrolled in an outing club. One of our favorite activities was rock
climbing. Usually, I was paired with another woman or a small man but one day, a friend was
visiting me and he insisted we pair up. I protested. “You’re about a foot taller and around 100
pounds heavier than me. How am I supposed to save you if you fall?”