30/03/2025
💭 A story on quiet strength, and how Porco Rosso helped me show it to a 9-year-old.
I was doing a one-to-one session with a 9-year-old student I’ve been mentoring—he’s really into planes, and we were building a bi-plane/seaplane together. Midway through, we decided to take a short break and watch the beginning of Porco Rosso together—a beautiful Ghibli film I’ve been revisiting lately.
This child has also lately been struggling with a teacher at his student care—someone who tends to raise her voice and get quite aggressive—and he was sharing how he was feeling hurt, angry, and wanting to fight back with that same kind of energy.
So we’re watching the first 20 minutes of the film… Porco easily defeats a gang of pirates in the sky, and then there’s this beautiful moment at Hotel Adriano. The pirates are being loud and rowdy, and Gina, the singer and owner, walks over calmly. She doesn’t scold, doesn’t raise her voice—just stands there, composed and with presence. And suddenly, the pirates all quieten down, even feel embarassed.
I turned to him and gently asked,
“How do you think the pirates see Gina? Do they respect her?”
He nodded, “Yes.”
“Did she need to raise her voice or threaten them?”
“No.”
“Do you think she was _powerful?”_
“Yeah!”
And I said, “That, my friend… is quiet strength.”
We talked a little more…
And I asked him, “When the pirates were fighting Porco, did they look powerful?”
He said, “No, not at all.”
“Even though they had muscles, airplanes, and guns?”
“Yeah.”
“And did Gina need any of that?”
“No.”
“And the little girls they kidnapped—did they listen to the pirates even though they were yelling?”
“Haha, no.”
“How do you think the pirates were feeling then?”
“Frustrated, and useless.”
“And how do you think Gina felt inside when dealing with them?”
“Calm, and relaxed.”
“And which way would you rather be?”
“Like Gina!”
And there, I saw something shift in him. Ever so slightly, but visibly. He opened up to the possibility that there are different kinds of strength. That real power doesn’t have to be loud or forceful. It can be calm. Rooted. Quiet.
I didn’t push, preach, or correct. I simply invited him into an experience… let him see for himself. And he did. I gave him a lived sense of a different kind of power. One that isn’t aggressive, but embodied. Calm. Rooted. Respect-commanding, not fear-inducing.
The experience gently wove the contrast for him—the pirates with all their force, still powerless in the ways that matter. Gina, unarmed and graceful, yet magnetic. And that contrast is eye-opening for a sensitive child struggling with the idea that he has to fight fire with fire. It helped him feel the difference between control and true strength. Between fear-based power, and power rooted in self-respect.
And what struck me later was—I’ve watched Porco Rosso many times before, even with other students… but this insight, this moment, came alive for the first time today. I think it’s because this question— what is real strength? —has been surfacing in my own journey recently. And maybe that’s what allowed me to see it… and share it in a way that felt real and supportive for him.
These are the moments I treasure most—when life offers a mirror, and something shifts, even slightly ❤️
