Double Dutch & Being a Cool Girl

In the late 1960s, entrance into the cool girl gang on the playground of Aloysius Fitzpatrick Elementary School was given for a number of reasons—natural beauty, cool clothes. But, if you possessed neither of those (which I did not), then your last resort entrance could be found in being able to jump rope double dutch.

For those of you too young to remember double dutch, it is basically two jump ropes being turned into each other simultaneously by two rope-turners. The label of “cool” was given only if you could jump these two ropes, not if you were a rope turner. Jumping double dutch and being able to sing an accompanying tune allowed you to hangout with the cool girls who wore white Keds each day—not saddle shoes (also known as the footwear of my youth). 

A few times, I would jump so high or so fast on my single jump rope that the girls would invite me over for double dutch time. My hands would sweat with nerves. Each time, I thought, ‘Today, I am going to do it’ and each day, each try, no matter how many times I watched the cool girls glide in and out of those two ropes, while keeping the beat and singing, I could not find my rhythm. 

Just being invited to try did not give me the skills to stay. Wanting it so badly that I used to dream of me successfully jumping so fast that the entire playground stopped their various games just to watch me was not enough. Drive was not enough. Being an expert at basic jump roping was not enough. Opportunities given were not enough. Even words of encouragement were not enough to get me to successfully jump double dutch. As a child, I never made it into that group.

Many years later, in college, I was—by chance—walking through a gym after an exam and a professor teaching a fitness class proposed double dutch as an activity. The teacher explained that the secret to successfully jumping double dutch is to jump in when the rope closest to you is up, and then move to the middle. The teacher allowed me to watch and join the class. 

With coaching and support, a clear explanation and provided example, and plenty of patience, I—as this now 20-something—finally jumped the cool girl jump. I sang my song, as well. 

The joy I felt came from deep inside me; I had always known I could do it, but I needed some focused guidance and skilled coaching. Wanting it had never been enough. Having one honed skill set was not enough. I ultimately needed coaching tailored to me to be successful. 

So, I ask you: How can I help you experience joy and achieve your specific desired success?