Team Spirit or Group Pressure

Team spirit // Shula Levin

The stormy and frozen water hit us mercilessly. I froze and my teeth chattered as I sent intermittent sentences one after the other in a loud, steady, and calm voice to my 12-year-old son, who was also washed away by the frozen stream streams, right there by my side, his teeth stiff and all shivering and frightened.

"Hold tight; let the water push you to the rock, do not resist; do not send a hand to me! Under no circumstances release one hand, for one hand is not enough to pin you to the rock in that water!" Another moment they will come to rescue us, you will see it will be okay "…

We both clung with all our might to a large rock and the rubber raft ropes, the Raft, stuck on it in the middle of the river. It was following an accident, while we were on a group cruise on the raging Snake River. Each of us clings tightly to his corner, from the water flowing forcefully over our skin. I was not allowed to release my hand and hug my son, and he was not allowed to let go of the raft ropes for a moment in his grip. We both had to hold on with all our might to the ropes of the stuck raft, so as not to get carried away, and I had to trust him to take care of himself. Every movement of each of us from our place would have thrown us far into the icy, turbulent waters of the river.

I smiled at him heroically, in an attempt to be calm and encouraging, while I was overwhelmed with horror and guilt, as I kept asking myself, how stupid had I to be, to bring my only son into this disaster? This is not some imaginary scene from an adventure movie, we're really inside the Snake River – and we're both really at a life threatening situation!

We got on this cruise with a group of my American boss's research students, in the Department of Chemistry at the University of Utah. I was then a young divorcee with my only son, living alone, away from Israel for two years, for my post-doctoral training. To tell the truth, I was quite integrated with the members of the research group, which was very international, and included Chinese, Taiwanese, Australian, Bengali-Dashi, German, Italian, Welsh, British and Thai, as well as some Americans.

Our boss, blessed his memory, who was a well-known adventurer, wanted to give some good time to his diverse group, so he took us on an adventurous trip in the wild Outdoors of Utah in Western America. The voyage also included a cruise on a large rubber raft on "white water", which is water that flows strongly with foam, which comes from waterfalls and eddies in a raging river.

I have never been adventurous by nature, and I did not like traveling in the wild so much, so I was afraid of this journey. But I decided to be brave nonetheless, and I also did not want to be different from everyone in the group and stand out. I knew it was important for my boss that I join and show a team spirit. For this reason, I agreed to go out with him and the group, along with my son, despite my fears and anxieties.

When we got on the rubber raft, I noticed that the boss had appointed the Chinese guys in the group, as the sailors in charge of the Rowing oars. I suspected that the Chinese did not understand English sufficiently to respond quickly enough to the navigators' instructions at the critical moments, and I became anxious.

I tried to convey my concern gently to the big boss, but he did not approve of my comment, and interpreted it as somewhat racist. Therefore, despite my justified fears, I did not insist, and I accepted the team spirit heroically.

It had not been a short time since the start of the voyage, and indeed, as I feared, the Chinese sailors really had not been able to follow the navigator's instructions sufficiently quickly, and the raft got stuck on a rock in the middle of the stormy river.

After what seemed like an eternity, brave kayakers arrived to rescue the entire group, trapped in the current, and stuck to the rock in the heart of the raging river, trying to advance against the strong current. I had to see my son being picked up by one of them, without me being able to move a finger to help him and protect him. I was ashamed of myself and my weakness.

As the survivors ascended one by one from the rescuing kayaks to a small river boat, which came to pick us up, everyone greeted the ship owner, and thanked him in English with a strange accent, each of us from another end of the world. The rescuer looked at the diverse, shattered, cold-shaken gang, and asked with a joking, doubtful question, "What's going on here? Do you all have an entry visa to the United States?" Then I burst out laughing and relaxed a bit. Our gang really looked like a group of outlaw refugees from all over the world or something like that.

When we finally reached the mainland, we changed clothes and dried up, my feelings of guilt and anxiety changed to great anger. First of all, I was angry at myself for succumbing to social pressure, to the "team spirit". Second, I was angry at my boss because of whom my son's life was in danger.

I could not resist, and turned to him saying I wanted to leave them and go home. That's it, I've exhausted this little vacation, I'm no longer interested in it.

He asked me curiously, "Why do you want to leave us?"
I replied, "I want you to know that the concept of 'vacation' for me is to lie idle somewhere, roll over belly-to-back-to-belly, and not risk my son's life and mine. I came to the US from a very dangerous place, from Jerusalem, Israel, where there is a mess at the moment in the nearby town, "Bethlehem, a five-minute walk from my house. If I was looking for adrenaline, and willing to risk my son's life for it, I would take him to Bethlehem, where there is real action."

He looked at me with great disappointment. He really could not figure out what and why I was angry.

Then he said to me, "You know it's not okay at all. If you come home now it means you have no team spirit at all. But other than that, regardless, you must stay and participate in another round, we immediately do on the raft, so you will not stay traumatized. This is what we always do after every accident, and it proves itself."

Some members of the group gathered around me to convince me to demonstrate a team spirit, and stay for another round to prevent the trauma.

I decided to succumb to social pressure again, and we stayed with them, my son and I. We sailed with everyone again on a raft on a more peaceful route, with the navigators and sailors more professional and experienced, and only then were we released to our home free from any trauma.

About thirty years later I sailed on a river raft in northern Greece with a group of friends, fell into the water, and was immediately rescued from the water safely back to the raft, without the slightest hint of anxiety.

And my son? He generally remembers all of this as one big fun adventure, one of many.