On February 9 I headed off to Whistler, BC to volunteer at the Whistler Sliding Centre for the 2010 Olympic Games. My role involved working at the Venue Communications Centre (VCC) for the Sliding Centre as a VCC Operator. The VCC was essentially a radio dispatch centre, facilitating operational communications for the venue.

My first shift was on February 10. As I sat down at the radio base station, I hoped that I could remember the protocol I had previously learned: Them Base Them Over, Go For Base Over, Copy, Base Out. I fumbled a bit initially, but eventually managed to get the hang of things.

Depending on the time and length of your shift, breakfast, lunch, and/or dinner were provided to volunteers and employees, collectively known as Workforce. I found the food to be surprisingly good. I’m not much of a cook, however, so generally I’m pretty happy to eat anything that I don’t have to prepare myself. My weakness was the cookies, of which there was an endless supply, particularly the oatmeal raisin variety. I definitely ate w-a-a-a-y too many of them. Even one of my fellow VCC Operators commented, “I’ll never look at an oatmeal raisin cookie again without thinking of you.”

In addition to the perk of having limitless quantities of cookies, volunteers were rewarded for their time by receiving gifts at specific shift intervals. These rewards were a nice touch. They definitely had reinforcement value for me. At one point, for example, I was going to be one shift short of getting a toque that I really liked, so I asked to work an extra shift rather than have a day off just to get it.

On my third shift, and the opening day of the Games, the now well-known luge accident occurred resulting in the death of Nodar Kumaritashvili from Georgia. For those of us working at the VCC that day, we quickly learned how to put in place the radio protocol for a medical emergency. The accident had a sombre effect on the entire venue. All personnel were assembled to debrief on the incident. Grief Counsellors were also brought in to help individuals deal with the tragedy as needed.

My family was en route to Whistler that day, driving from Calgary, as we had purchased tickets to watch the luge events, the first of which was scheduled to begin the following day on February 13. I wanted to give them all a big hug, particularly my oldest daughter, who is a luger and was involved in a rather traumatic luge accident herself in Calgary a year ago. She knew about Nodar’s death and I wondered what impact this incident would have on her psychologically. I also couldn’t help but wonder if all anyone would remember of the 2010 Olympic Games, or at least of luge, was that a slider died.

The next day, which was the first day of competition for luge, it was announced that the start houses would be moved down; the men to Ladies Start (subsequently referred to as Olympic Men’s Start) and the women and doubles to Junior Start (Olympic Ladies’ Start and Olympic Doubles’ Start). This change was not well received by many in the luge community, most notably the athletes themselves. I must admit I found it hard to watch the races as a result of the modified start heights, particularly the women’s race. The Canadian women had all been sliding really well during training that week and a medal was a definite possibility for one of the Canadian women, namely Alex Gough. I had the opportunity to watch some of the training runs and I can recall how excited I was to see that Alex was beating all three of the Germans, who are a dominant force in luge. Now, I watched our Canadian women struggle to even get a decent start, which is critical in luge, and any hopes of reaching the podium disappear.

However, the circumstances were yet another reminder that you have to make the best of a bad situation. After all, no one planned on a tragedy. Thus, the spectators present during the luge races embraced the Olympic spirit and enthusiastically cheered on their respective nation’s athletes. The Canadian fans, comprised of a lot of Calgarians, were out in full force. They wore the official Canada Olympic gear, red mittens and all, waved the flag, painted their faces, and rang cowbells, even when it was pouring rain.

Canadian pride wasn’t just evident during luge, of course. I attended the final of skeleton as well as women’s bobsled, and there was a sea of red and white at these events too. In fact, the sheer number of spectators present during the sliding competitions was a bit of a shock to me. At World Cup races in Calgary you’re lucky to get fifty people out to watch. During the Games there were thousands of spectators; I heard numbers of around six thousand in attendance during some of the races.

If I wasn’t watching the Games live, I was watching them on a TV screen in the Whistler Village as I strolled through, in a bar, or plunked on the couch. There was even a TV in the VCC, so when I was working a shift I could still keep an eye on how the Canadian Team was doing. Sports which typically have no interest to me, I couldn’t get enough of. I also had the opportunity to take in a couple of medal presentations at the Village. I had turned into a Games “junkie.”

But alas, as the saying goes, “All good things must come to an end.” So, I’m now home and back to reality. My Olympic experience was, in a word, wonderful. I would do it again in a minute. Perhaps I can learn Russian prior to 2014 and live the experience all over again?!

Margot Glover is a psychologist in “real” life, working for the Calgary Board of Education. She is married and has two daughters.

The Olympics are now a totally different story than they were before. I think for me personally though. It’s weird walking into an Oval and just seeing people you see all the time. It was exactly like a world cup, except people were more excited for it and lots of Dutchies in the audience made it a carpet of orange and red. My job was to be a forerunner. What’s that? Well- I get to skate before the 1st pair of any women’s events, and test out the ice so they can make sure the electronic timer works correctly. With that being said…we also get a sweet looking skin suit and all this other clothing to match it. Along with accreditation and infield passes for our shift days! I’ll write more about that below.

As a volunteer at the Olympics, you’re basically given a schedule which you have to follow and yes, they are long hours every single day, but who doesn’t love going to work and meeting people like Wayne Gretzky or Donald Sutherland...who just happen to be great speed skating fans. Not to mention sitting with Richard Branson? But hey, it’s not like that doesn’t happen every day or anything...right? It was pretty cool to see celebrities watching your fellow team mates and then realizing that everything you do is kind of seen in a bigger picture like the whole world sees what you do! I mean, I train 5 hours a day, 6 days a week, but it’s not like I train because I want someone like Wayne of Donald to watch me in 2014 or whatever. But just thinking of that and knowing that even speed skaters get some pretty shweet attention just makes you want to work harder and get er done, deliver results, and head to the Olympics!

So forerunning... well it’s probably to coolest volunteer job ever, because we get the best seats in the house for tons of competition watching....uh, I mean track stewarding which means putting out pucks on the race lanes, and then watch as every skater came around the corner and didn’t kick any! If they did, they’d be disqualified but being the Olympics, I don’t think you’d want to find yourself kicking pucks. It’d be a tad embarrassing, but it happens. But that’s Track Stewarding, which was 50% of the job. Anyways...FORERUNNING is when you go out, wear spandex and show 8000 people what you got...on klap skates. I got to race a girl. Technical officials needed to test the electronic timer in order to make sure that nothing will go wrong when races start. So you line up, and the gun goes off. 8000 people are standing up and cheering for you. It’s kind of a really good feeling. Definitely the best preview for when I race in 2014. I now know what to expect. It was all perfect.

Overall, it was an outstanding experience being here and experiencing the Games without the pressure. Also visiting Whistler and doing a public talk to grade 8's at Richmond High, because you met their teacher at the gym and she randomly asked you to come and inspire kids! And experiencing the Canadian medal ceremonies and watching my country perform fantabulously well… what more can I ask for?! In Sochi, I will also know what job everyone has and why officials do the things they do, and I will already have had that insider look at things. So in a few days, all I will say is ” bring on 2014, cause I’m already charging at it”. This whole month was a learning journey, as well as a fun and crazy one. It had it’s ups and downs. I am very thankful to have met such awesome people and volunteers from all over the world, that dedicated their past few months or weeks to making these Olympics the best so far for athletes…and volunteers. I also had the opportunity to work alongside people who make sure that races at the Olympic Oval in Calgary run smoothly for our races. It was great to get to know each and everyone of them personally and I now know I made new friends that will definitely last a lifetime. I have not been in the Olympic Village but I heard that Vancouver will be tough to beat, because according to some international athletes, it’s fantastic. I would definitely love to stroll around it one afternoon. And the weather here made everything 150% better than Calgary. Period. I mean, hey, how many people can say that they went jogging in a tank top and shorts at 9am, on February 5th? I can! Haha, sunshine…not so much, but +15 for 7 days straight with no rain…YES!

Laura suffered a near career-ending crash in luge last year, and is at the Olympics cheering on team-mates and class-mates.

Those words like knives and heavy blankets smothering me. My brain stalls, my eyes burning as I feel my heart sink inside my chest. My throat swells strangling my words until I can finally muster; “He died?” I knew about the crash. I knew before anyone else knew. My mom is volunteering at the games at the Whistler Sliding Center, she had been out there for a few days already. So in the car sat my Dad my sister and I driving out to watch the games and of course we had been texting her the whole drive. Can’t talk. Horrible accident during men’s training runs. Not good. It’s funny how it’s never the changes we want that change everything.

In that moment I thought of my accident. It was only a little over a year ago from that day that it happened; it was just one of our normal training sessions on the track in Calgary. I came out of the final curve at my top speed of over 100 km/hr only to hit a sled sitting in the out run. The track hadn’t been properly cleared from a crash previous to me. To be honest I must have been in shock, because the next thing I remember is being in the drug store and passing out as the pain finally kicked in. I was lucky. Really, really lucky only devastating injuries to my tail bone and severe trauma to the surrounding area, and bruising to the point where I couldn’t believe that was my own body.

I was lucky. Nodar Kumaritashvili was not. That was one of the things that hit me most. That could have been me. That could have been any of us. There aren’t very many of us lugers, we really are like a big family and though I never met him I think all of us felt the loss. So needless to say that by the time I reached Whistler it didn’t feel like a time for joy and celebration. It seemed that in the luge world at least things continued to go downhill form there with all the controversy and backlash that at times almost made me feel sick. The starthouses getting moved down was another big blow, and the empathy I felt for the athletes through all of this I really can’t describe.

But these were the Olympics after all, and Olympic spirit prevailed. Before I knew it there I was standing in Curve 16 on the first day of the men’s race, tattoos of Canadian flags and Olympic rings on my cheeks, and smears of red war paint under my eyes. I had never seen so many people at the track! Our track! I’ll be honest: normally at a race in Canada the only people watching is our parents so if we’re lucky they’ll be fifteen people. But I was surrounded by hundreds! Of course I could pick out the family and friends- the Sweeney’s with their hot pink hats handing out pins or Walker/Snith’s friends with their names painted across there half naked bodies (and yes it was freezing cold that day). But then there were people there I really had never seen before; Spectators. The German’s with their noise makers, the Americans wearing giant cowboy hats, or the Austrians belting out their national anthem and then the Canadians. Oh the Canadians. I’m positive that my eyes must have been glazed over with Olympic glory for the entire week. And yes by the time the Doubles race arrived I had already lost my voice.

I must admit I am in Olympic Withdrawal. No longer is painting my face and yelling “Go Canada!” (only to be greeted with high fives, and cheers) in the middle of town really acceptable. Running up to anyone in a team jacket (San Marino alpine team?) or even just strangers and striking up a conversation and getting a round of high-fives and pictures. Or even painting the faces of little boys with American flags; because they were jealous of my face paint might no longer be appropriate. But I think what I miss most is when one of us (because at the Olympics all Canadians are suddenly an “us”) medaled. In the streets you would hear the cheers and screaming of “GOLD!!!! GO CANADA!!!!” and the air would crackle with the electricity of it all. I’ll have deal with my symptoms until 2014 when hopefully not only will I be able to experience the games again I’ll be able to be apart of them, to live them. But for now the experiences, lessons and friendships I will take away from the Vancouver Olympic Games, will be etched in my heart far beyond the moment the Olympic Flame is extinguished

The student gathering area is unusually abuzz this morning. On a typical school day, you could expect to see a handful of students spread around the tables, laptops open, catching up on school work or reconnecting with classmates after returning from training or competition. Overlooking the tables and chairs is the school credo, “Achieving Excellence,” reminding both students and staff why they are here.

The difference today is largely due to a television screen set up on a cart in the corner of the room. CTV’s Olympic coverage has become a permanent fixture in the school, at least for the next sixteen days. And the students are electric.

This is my third year as a teacher at the National Sport School. Anyone who may think that this is an environment of spoon-fed dumb jocks is mislead. What I witness on a daily basis is nothing short of inspirational: young men and women driven to succeed, a group of youth who are dedicated to excellence, 153 high performing athletes balancing a rigorous academic load with an intense schedule of training and competition. Most are actually sitting in class for roughly fifty percent of the classes, yet their academic performance and achievement is on par with students from any teaching environment in which I have worked in my career. One would think that the levels of arrogance would be unbearable. On the contrary, this is an environment of incredible modesty and mutual support.

A freestyle skier arrives today on crutches. She has just learned that she will be out for up to six months with a torn ACL. She is understandably discouraged and deflated, but finds solace in her classmates’ ability to heal, rebound, and thrive. Sprained thumbs and ankles. Bruised tailbones. Shoulder inflation. Concussions. Broken collarbones. Compressed lumbar vertebrae. Torn meniscus. Avascular necrosis. All of this a sampler of the injuries suffered by our student body in this semester alone. “Look at my finger,” offers one of our alpine skiers. His knuckle is mangled, his finger bent into a crook that one may expect on an arthritic senior. “Isn’t that gross?”

“So why do you do this? After all of this, why continue beating yourself up?” I ask a group of grade twelve students in my English 30-1 course. Every single student in the class has been concussed at least once, yet the question is absurd to them. A snowboarder retorts with a clichéd statement about finding reward through risk, but his sincerity counters any sort of rebuttal.

To these young men and women the Olympics is a living dream. For some of them, it will be an attainable dream. Four current students and 21 alumni of the National Sport School are competing in Vancouver. Many others are forerunning. Even more are volunteering. While there is much press focussed on the negative, it is the sense of anticipation, idealism and national pride present in this school that reminds me why these games are so valuable. It evokes flashbacks from my own youth, a young boy intrigued and enthused by the velocity of luge, the soaring pride of ski jumping, the intensity of alpine skiing.

Back in the student gathering area, the television is replaying the men’s snowboard cross race from the day before. Some of the snowboarding students are breaking down the race for me, pinpointing where Mike Robertson lost some momentum.

“Right there. He totally cased that jump,” one of them tells me. Once he explains what he meant in English, we relish in the silver medal victory together. To these student-athletes, and to so many Canadians, these Olympics provide hope, drive and purpose. They remind us what focus and dedication can bring. To live it vicariously through these young men and women is exciting, but the real thrill is to anticipate what comes next.

Seeing Jennifer Heil win silver at the 2010 Winter Olympics made my dream of becoming an Olympic gold medalist realistic. I have met Jennifer many times in my life and she is a great and humble person. She would give me many tips on how to focus, relax and how to be confident in myself. She is such an inspiration in my life because she is also studying commerce at McGill University which means she wants a business career after she is done skiing. I also want to pursue a business career after I am done freestyle skiing.

I am a student at the National Sport School; this school helps me excel in school and in my sport. There is a low student to teacher ratio, the classes are flexible, the teachers are understanding and all of our classes are online. Before when I was in a regular school I could not keep up my grades while I was away on trips skiing. Now, at the National Sport School I can pursue my sport and get a good education. The National Sport School is very supportive of our Olympic athletes, we have TVs at our school so we can watch and cheer on our fellow student-athletes.I am a freestyle skier, I ski and train at COP about 5 times a week - whether it’s spinning or flipping off jumps and in the half-pipe or lifting weights in the gym. Skiing makes me relaxed, it helps me get my mind off any stress that I have, it helps me think and it also gives me an adrenaline high that nothing ever has before.

Recently I injured my knee off a 60-foot jump. I don’t know for sure what I injured in my knee but my doctor thinks it was my ACL (anterior cruciate ligament) if she is correct, that means I am not allowed to ski for 6 months. This injury was a huge setback on my skiing career. I was crushed to know that I couldn’t ski. I tried to be strong by accepting the horrible news but I couldn’t fight back the tears, knowing that I couldn’t do the one thing in my life that made me so happy was the biggest heartbreak I have ever had, it was almost like it had been taken away from me. Each day I try and be strong, I try to look at the positive side and know that when I am back on skis I will be stronger and better. When I am stronger and better I will train as hard as I can to pursue my dreams of becoming an Olympian just like my idol Jennifer Heil.

I have had a very fortunate few days. On Sunday. my wife and I were in attendance as Canada won its’ very first Gold Medal on home soil. The next two days, as we took in more events at the Olympics, it was quite evident how very important is the work that our teachers undertake with Canada’s current and future Olympians at the National Sport School.

The student- athletes we work with have the opportunity to unite a nation through their sporting endeavors – how could any true Canadian turn their backs on that? The national pride we witnessed in Vancouver and Whistler is not just encouraging - it is infectious. Canadians are proud, boisterous, supportive - and hold very high expectations for our Canadian Team; expectations that our athletes are doing everything they can to fulfill. This is the opportunity that our school provides its student athletes – the opportunity to be our next Olympic heroes, while at the same time pursuing excellence in academics.

As most people can imagine, this undertaking is no easy feat. To pursue excellence in sport, our student-athletes are required to travel, train and compete extensively, spending anywhere from 20 to 40 hours a week on their athletic pursuits. To provide the flexibility that allows for that type of commitment while concurrently completing a high school education in the demanding Alberta programs of study, our school has evolved a personalized hybrid educational environment which combines face-to-face instruction when our athletes are in the city, and supplements/supports this excellent instruction with an online learning management system where they can access their course materials any time, anywhere.

So as I watched our grade 12 student-athlete Tristan Walker compete in doubles luge last night (from the comfort of my living room), I feel a sense of accomplishment that we have been supporters of his dream of being an Olympian, while still being positioned to pursue a post-secondary education. It is the same satisfaction I get when I see any of the former student-athletes from our school compete. They are Olympians (and always will be – nobody can take that away) and they have completed their schooling to a level their abilities suggest they should.

There is still the majority of the Games to take in. Our entire school community is constantly connected with the events: we watch the events online or on TV in our gathering area, when the opportunity allows. We will cheer louder every time an athlete with a National Sport School connection competes. The competitors inspire all of us – the teachers in their work, and the student-athletes as they pursue their own Olympic dreams.

The next blog from our school will be that of a student-athlete with Olympic aspirations of her own.

The Vancouver Olympics are creating quite a stir at the National Sport School. There is excitement everywhere as we watch our four current and seventeen former student-athletes prepare to compete in these games. Our student centre will have a television set broadcasting every event, and the entire school community will be spending time engaged in both academics and spectating for the duration of the Games.

The Games also serve to remind us, as of the day of the Opening Ceremonies, how dangerous sport can be. The death of a young Georgian luge athlete on Friday is very sobering, and hits very close to home. We have six athletes with NSS roots competing in the same sport on that same track during these Olympics, as well as three of our student-athletes forerunning the events on that track. We will be holding our collective breath until they all safely complete their runs.

The CBE has asked that a blog be developed to share our perspectives on the Olympics, and what type of impact this event has on our school.

Future blogs on this site will provide some insight into how it is we do what we do at the school. For example, how can a school that has student-athletes who regularly miss more than 50% of their “school days” still have exams results consistently above provincial averages on standardized tests? How do student-athletes, like Erik Mitchell of the National Ski Jump Team, travel and compete internationally, compete in the Olympics and still complete their high school diploma on time?

There will be a number of contributors to this blog: teachers, student-athletes and parents, providing their perspective on the excitement of these Games and what it means to them.

Stay tuned!