I recently read HERE that a school in Oregon would be handing out the title valedictorian to more than one student. Not to two or three. To over twenty. Everyone is a winner.
But here is the conundrum: Everyone isn’t a winner- that’s a hard lesson to learn, and it seems to be a harder lesson to teach. As though adults don’t want to hurt any child’s feelings, there are trophies given out to every team. Second chances become third and fourth attempts. The list could go on forever. It feels like as a society, we miss crucial learning opportunities while offering no real value to our children.
Oddly, my first bewilderment at “everyone gets a medal” was the cost. Plain and simple: year after year kids come to sell me chocolate (because that has something to do with sports and fitness?) to raise money for uniforms, field maintenance, equipment, and travel expenses. Of course I support my local teams, and I always will, but it makes me wonder: if the league didn’t spend money on medals for everyone- perhaps just a celebratory pizza party or cookout (?)- wouldn’t there be more money in the treasury for things like Friday night lights and cleats for the kids who need them?
Years ago I watched my brothers (who seemed to never be on a winning soccer team) sit down with their trophies and pizza at the end of the season, having learned nothing of the sport, nor how to gracefully lose and thus sportsmanship, having lost no pride (and not gained any either) at not winning a single game. Sure, that’s OK at 6 and 7, but if your entire league, regardless of age, is pass/pass, when does anyone learn how to fail or what to do when it happens? As my brothers got older, their trophies broke or were so covered in dust you couldn’t tell if the gold guy on top was kicking a ball or holding a bat. My brothers have no memories of a season clinching win, or a play-off ending loss. They can’t really remember anything except that when I came to a game I cheered kind of loud.
As I stare at my teddy bear full of ribbons (I keep safely at my Mom’s house), I can recall almost every gymnastics venue I ever competed in. From Brandywine’s floor to UMLY’s notoriously hard judges. The vault I broke my finger on in Hanover. The day we got a bounce strip at Hatboro. Abington never hosting a meet because they were just too small (where I first trained). I was no Shannon Miller, but I loved my sport. I remember falls, broken fingers, ankles and toes, and all my ripped hands. All those fails. I remember learning to point my toes, focus on a spot, let go of the fear, use grips, to never pick a wedgie during a routine and to just try harder. The first time I made states after a meet at the Main Line Y. The two weeks I spent at Woodward Gymnastics Camp overcoming mental blocks and becoming independent every summer. The weekend I competed in my first state competition, which is also when I locked my Dad’s keys in the car during an extremely hot day 200 miles from home. He smiled about it, taking my hand and leading me to an air conditioned room to wait in while he figured out a way to regain entry to the car. Those times when I didn’t place. Other times when I finished 2nd because of one bobble. I learned how to succeed from failing.
Remembering all of this, gymnastics being the sport I competed in for the longest, is when I begin to wonder how much good is really being done in comparison to the harm, when we give everyone a medal.
Though military school is a bit beyond the regimented life I feel comfortable in, the idea that all people are winners makes me more uncomfortable- not because I think any one person is better than another… but sometimes, they are. It’s a fact. I love the Philadelphia Flyers. I think they are the best NHL team. But they’re not, at least not statistically. I still wear their jersey, like a proud parent cheering on their child in a soccer game where he resigns himself to the left goal post staring at the sky. I still cheer. When it’s the last game of the season and we are already out of the playoffs, I cheer hard, beer in hand, elbow in the line of vision of the guy next to me wearing the opposing team’s jersey. I’m there. But that doesn’t make the Flyers’ winners. They are losers. They lost.
Let’s move beyond sports, though. Let’s take a look at telling kids they are ALL the smartest. All children, by that logic, that did not get 4.0 GPA, perhaps 3.8 students, they are not the smartest. Right? What about the kids who got lower grades in harder classes? Where do they fall? And all kids with a 2.8 GPA, they are all the dumbest? What about the kids below that, or kids with LDs? Or are there only the smartest kids? How does this work? Valedictorian is defined as the student who has the highest academic ranking… and is the best representative of the class. Oh no. Here we are again. The Best. So if we are all the best, who is the best of the best of the best of the… And really, do we sit through 21 speeches at graduation?
It’s not just about long winded speeches that will never top Diane Court in Say Anything:
… The real world. We’re all about to enter ‘The Real World.’ That’s what everybody says. But most of us have been in the real world for a long time. But I have something to tell everybody. I’ve glimpsed our future, and all I can say is… ‘Go Back’.
Well, it’s almost over. We’ve gone to school together for three years, and we’ve been through a lot. But with that training out of High School gone, what’s going to happen to us? We all know what the answers are. We want to be happy, go to college, own a car, maybe raise a family. But what if that doesn’t happen? I have, I have to be honest though, I have all the hope and ambition in the world. But when I think about the future, the truth is, I am really scared.
It’s about recognizing that we are not all winners, we won’t all be the best- not just in that one thing, but anything. Some people are not the best in anything- that is OK! The best parenting advice I got was probably from my own parents’ actions. When I met my father’s gaze after a lost game, a B- paper or a broken plate, possibly uttering something like “we lost” or “I got a bad grade” or “I always do things wrong”, there was no pity. I never heard “that stinks” “or next time will be better”… I heard “that’s OK”. Honestly, sometimes there isn’t a “next time” and if there is, who is to say that you will do better? Simply, it’s OK to not be the best all the time. Just try.
When I was in high school, we worked hard to be the best at what we were passionate about. SCH, a school I attended, printed an article in its most recent school magazine talking about learning from and being allowed to make mistakes without negative consequence. Many teachers spoke about the lessons that could not have been learned and thus taught, without these epic fails. Like my solar car in 8th grade: it worked, but it didn’t win. “GREAT PROJECT!” graced the front of my Kinko’s bound Solar Car Project book. All of my notes, and the report- complete with hypothesis, experiments and outcomes, and still I didn’t win the competition and my car did not go on to compete with other schools. I remember that project, and it taught me to be more thorough, work harder and when I went to the competition I learned why I wasn’t the best- because someone else was (and were they ever)!
I hope the future doesn’t continue to trend towards everybody winning. Teach kids to fail. To fail hard. To miss the point, lose the game miserably, misspell an entire assignment because they had to HAND WRITE something and edit themselves. Not everyone can be the boss, get the raise, be #1. If gymnastics taught me nothing else, it’s that there is only one #1. If there was a tie, the all-around score was taken into consideration and second place went to the tie score of the girl with the lower AA score. Sounds harsh, right? If two people both did the same on their beam routine, weren’t they both #1 on beam?! No. It’s as simple as that. That meant that the second place score then got the third place ribbon- which made them third place. Again, no questions asked. Being the best is being the best. It’s OK to have rules, guidelines and scales on which to base our accomplishments. It’s OK to not be first. Heck, it’s OK to not even place!
At home we are all the same. I will love all of my children with the same passion. Each will be great at something(s). Each will be miserable at something(s). Every success is a chance to celebrate, and every fail an opportunity to teach and learn. Perhaps no one in my family will be the best at anything they try- but they will try. Maybe we will all find something we excel at and encourage others to succeed in, too! Regardless, because we will all fail, we will all learn how to succeed (whether we do or not isn’t really the point- because we CAN’T all succeed in Life 100% of the time).
And teach kids to learn, we shall. Right? This trait is what makes us, as adults, readily able to handle Life. From the 2am vomit on the wall-to-wall carpet, to the unexpected cut in pay, being an adult is full of life lessons learned through trial and error; the culmination of your childhood successes and fails teaching you how to continue on.
To fail is to learn, after all. Let’s not take learning away from our children.
Chelley – You are on to a topic that has gotten a lot of press recently with the publication of Po Bronson’s latest book, “Top Dog”. (FYI – If you haven’t read his book Nurtureshock on parenting topics, DO SO IMMEDIATELY! Its great.) It would seem that the research supports most of what you are saying, as does login and common sense.
On a personal and parenting note, I agree with you and am convinced that any silly efforts to eliminate all competition or designations of honor such as those you describe area backlash to uber-competative PARENTS; not kids. I have watched in shock and horror as coaches endure parents berating the kids, coaches, other players, etc. I live in a community where every parent seems to be working 24/7 to ensure that their kid is the best and brightest – and not in healthy ways. My son read at 2. My child speaks 4 languages. My child got accepted to this and that school. And god help the child who cannot live up to their parents’ hopes and dreams – he is shuttled off to tutoring, counseling and made to keep trying until his accomplishments meet his parents’ definition of success. I would vote for valedictorian for everyone before enduring another moment of cut throat child rearing – but of course that misses the point that moderation is the key. As you so eloquently state, loving your child for who they are, helping them be the best they can be (which may miss being “the best” by a long shot) and teaching them how to fail/lose with grace, dignity and self-esteem. That is our job.
Oh, my… I could write a thesis on this one; but instead I will say that I agree with you 100%. Everyone WINNING is everyone FAILING, in so many aspects of growing, learning, challenging oneself. Amen.
Totally agree with Sharon! 🙂
I couldn’t agree more. My son is 6 and is involved in youth sports and, while i know he is young and still in “instructional leagues,” it’s such a far cry from the sports I played growing up, when you didn’t play first base if you couldn’t catch the ball. Now they have to rotate all the kids so everyone gets a turn and you wince when you see the ball coming to a child who has absolutely no clue what to do. But with that being said, I’m trying to keep an open mind as he gets older and perhaps it would be so much of this “everyone’s a winner” sort of mentality. Thanks for posting!
I totally see where you are coming from, I am not in the US, but I wonder, isn’t the idea of giving everyone prizes in sport to motivate them to keep them going? And to know that you are actually a winner if you get up every day and do your sport and not spend your time watching TV or on the internet? My 2 older kids 6 and 4 both do gymnastics, in fact the older one is in the squad team and yes it’s a very valuable lesson to learn that while she may do the best splits, some of her peers do better round-offs, but she is already sold, she lives and breaths gymnastics, so for her this lesson is indeed hard to learn, but motivational.
But my 4 year old is not fully with the program yet, so getting a level 1 badge (which looks like a medal) was very motivational, she felt she achieved something.
And for my youngest who has hypo, I would absolutely want her to get a medal for her swimming, for participating, for making a tremendous effort with her shorter arms and legs to keep up with her peers if she makes it to an AH team.
Most kids won’t get into competitive sports, or won’t stay long, isn’t the whole idea of childhood sport to promote a healthy lifestyle? And yes, I want my kids to have intrinsic motivation, but actually kids LOVE prizes…
THIS is why I LOVE blogging! Your views are definitely something to think about. Thank you for sharing!!!
Sadly, I veered away from the academic idea that everyone is the smartest and into sports. I was an athlete and graduated in the top 15% of my HS and college classes- but I was never THE best at anything, and I didn’t care. I tried really damn hard and never to win anything. I think the “prize” can be something to work for, but I don’t necessarily agree that kids won’t get into a sport without one. I know SO many children who do sports and academic competitions (chess, spelling, debate) purely because they love it, and kids who are NEVER on a winning team but love to get their game on so they keep playing without incentive.
Perhaps we rely heavily on the league to provide those physical incentives, too. After a hard game (or bad grade) a caretaker can take a kid out for a water ice, or when a win is made (or a great grade) maybe a trip to the movies. I love the idea of creating more memories and having more experiences and not just another tchotchke on the shelf. A nice certificate, participant badge or ribbon- these things offer validation without over compensating and giving kids who are the best (even just for the moment) their shiny prize.
Congratulatory making the team, moving up a level, etc. these ARE accomplishments, let’s celebrate them… but I personally (which does NOT make my opinion “right”) do not think that playing a sport that you simply signed up for is a reason to get a trophy. Like I said, a certificate of participating (nicely printed) or a Participant ribbon- those explain that you DID something and that is an accomplishment, but a trophy and even a medal signifies that you won. I guess it’s a fine line. I want Addie to succeed and be rewarded for it- especially if she keeps up with her AH peers- but if she doesn’t, I hope that I am there to help guide her through disappointment and not let her emotions cloud the fact that it’s OK to not be the best and to fail.
Chelley, as always, you have a way with words. We are failing by not teaching our children that everyone isn’t equally victorious at everything.
I am actually okay with giving all the kids who participate a ribbon, a certificate or some other recognition of effort. If they showed up every time, and tried their hardest, that is worth something to me. But, it isn’t the same as the team who showed up and won. They’re special, and shouldn’t feel less so to accommodate the crowd.
We give our children permission not to try when we make the reward the same – it’s a similar argument we have in business: if salespeople are salaried, are they as motivated as those who fight for a commission? It’s doubtful.
My kids should know I will be proud regardless, and if they’ve tried, they can hold their heads high. That being said, they should know where they placed at the end of the day if only so that they have something to beat the next time.
I’m of two minds on this subject. In sports I agree with you. “Everyone gets a trophy” doesn’t inspire anyone. Everyone gets a certificate of participation is good. In academics and sports though, there should be some recognition for the effort put forth.
My son is high functioning autistic and has dyslexia. He didn’t even learn to read until he was in the fourth grade. The high school he graduated from was tiny, there were 18 kids in his graduating class. The school gave out scholarships to many of the kids. The cut-off for most of the scholarships was a 3.4 grade point average…my son got a 3.35, I realize there has to be some criteria otherwise how else do you decide how to award? But as I watched five kids get thousands of dollars in scholarships I kept thinking “Did they have to work as hard for their GPA as my son did?”
One of the school board members actually gave over a thousand dollars of her own money in the form of $250 scholarships to all of the students who otherwise wouldn’t have gotten one. She called it “The Not everyone is going to college scholarship.” This one was for whatever the student wanted to pursue. I loved it!
My son will be home next week from his first year of college. Unfortunately his student loan debt is already higher after just one year than mine was for my entire college education.
Thank you for your comment. That sounds like such a difficult situation. Of course being the mom of a child with a difference, I know there are times when life just won’t be fair for her- I hope that I can handle it well. But those cut-offs, especially one so close cannot be an easy pill to swallow.
I have immense education debt, as well. It is a slippery slope- getting an education to allow for a better paying job (and life), only to have to give up the better money for years to come to pay for the privilege of the higher degree. I wish your son well- he sounds like a brilliant young man!
THis post is 100 percent spot on and you did an amazing jobs with words! I always tell Hayley that winning is not the end all be all. I feel there is so much pressure in society and she is hearing over and over- win,, go Hayley..get the goal! I want her to take a step back and actually enjoy the sports! That is what it is all about! And I agree that sports these days with all the costs is so different than back in our day!
I totally agree with you. “Losing” can be a tough pill to swallow, but it’s an important life lesson. If you lose at something, or don’t do your best, it’s incentive to get up, dust yourself off and try harder next time. “Winning” at everything you do, regardless of how you REALLY do, is setting yourself up for big disappointment later in life.
I often tell my children that it is not losing, it IS learning. It may not make you feel less disappointed I suppose however, I think it does give them something else to focus on and, learn from.