Unjust Rewards
You can call it evening the playing field, or making it fair for everyone, or even giving each person a chance, but I call it the blatant dumbing down of our own children, which in turn creates a future lackluster society.
No expectation of excellence or recognition for those who surpass the masses. No healthy competition or exertion of energy or time to stand out among the crowd. No use of creativity to break away from the pack: a ‘one size fits all’ approach where kids are rewarded just for showing up.
Today’s popular parenting approach of indulging our children with every want and whim they have in order to keep them happy, without an expectation on the child, is a recipe for disaster.
There’s this huge trend right now of letting our kids think that they should get everything they want just because they want it, without having to exert any energy or seeing the reality of the situation.
This philosophy permeates the parent pick-up line at school, where moms complain that the grade school talent show isn’t fair and really shouldn’t be a show in which you have to prove an actual talent, but more of a variety show that all the kids could be part of to demonstrate whatever they want to share, without anyone having to be disappointed for not getting in.
This philosophy bred the banning of teachers grading student papers in red ink or marker in some schools so as not to make the students feel bad. This attitude accounts for equal playing time on some school sports teams for kids of all skill levels during school-to-school competitions so each child feels worthy.
Basically, this movement provides for us (as parents and teachers) the need to reward our kids just for showing up, without ever having to experience the blood, sweat and tears of effort or the disappointment of failure. Do you know that our school district rewarded our kids one year with a ticket to Six Flags just for showing up on the first day of school, since the no-show percentage that day was traditionally so high? That free ticket actually comes with a hefty price: it condones our kids into thinking that they should be rewarded for doing the bare minimum. It teaches them to feel entitled. It creates a cesspool of mediocrity for the generations to come who feel it is their natural-born right to be given an education, handed a job, and passed a pile of money, all while skating by meeting bare minimum standards.
“They should all be given a part since they had the courage to try out,” one parent suggested about the school play. While that proposed scenario may represent a small moment in time today, tomorrow it will morph into your child expecting an ‘A’ in English Lit just for reading the book, and the next day feeling entitled to a BMW just for graduating from college with a ‘C’ average.
I am not suggesting that everyone strive for above average or excellence in academics, talents, or anything else. I am simply asking that you teach your kids to decipher between putting forth their best effort and not fully utilizing their potential. In other words, let’s deal with reality.
If your kid didn’t make the team, don’t automatically appeal to the coach for further review. Instead, use the event as a learning experience, as a time to address disappointment and failure, build self-esteem instead of hinder it.
The most defining moments in my life are not the ones where I achieved the most success, but instead those where I didn’t reach my goal: not making the volleyball team, losing my college scholarship, not getting chosen for a job, being unable to carry a pregnancy to term. The list goes on and on. They were all experiences that seemed unbearable at the time, but in retrospect, helped me recognize my weaknesses, embrace my humility, and allowed me to become a better person by working through the situation.
I have my parents to thank for these viewpoints. Had they not forced me to deal with reality at an early age, I would not be so comfortable in my own skin today. They expected me to take responsibility for my own actions, always try my best, and always treat others with respect. When I faced disappointment, they were there to listen and console me, and they were also present to help me dissect the event and build a game plan to avoid heartbreak in the future: whether it be letting go of that particular priority, or working on myself to better prepare.
My parents also impressed on me that sometimes things just don’t work out. Get over it and move on! They didn’t ‘candy coat’ situations by telling me that I was just as talented, or even more talented, as the next kid, if I wasn’t. If I showed an interest in a subject or an activity or an art, they expected me to learn about it on my own – they would not do it for me. If I chose to do a half-ass job on a project, they taught me to expect half-ass results. To get ahead, they told me to work harder, no questions asked. That taught me to compete.
There is something to be said for just showing up. Sometimes you get things by default, by being the only one who shows up. You get a partial college scholarship because no one else applied You get an entry-level job because you were the only applicant and the HR manager didn’t have time to wait for more applicants. You got the guy because you happened to be standing there and he turned to you when his true love dumped him. All of this is called chance. Life if full of it, and it keeps us bewildered at the amazing turns we’re offered in life.
The majority of opportunities we’re offered in this world, however, revolve around competition. Set your children up for success. Tell them the truth. Be their parent and not their friend. Don’t make them feel better, make them understand how to be better. Teach them how to stay in the game, show them how to beat their opponent, and most importantly, help them understand that what they learn during the game is just as important as who wins the competition.
Stacy lives in Chicago with her partner, Katie, and their two daughters. She writes about any and everything, but focuses on parenting issues. Read more of her work at Parent Unplugged
