I spent 18 hours at an invitational track meet this weekend. Most of my children’s races lasted less than 70 seconds. That gives a guy a lot of time to think.
My youngest daughter, however, competes in the 1500 meter run and it takes her considerably longer than the 70 seconds. As I was watching her and anticipating her result, I began reflecting on what I had seen in the previous four 1500M heets. At the younger ages, there is almost always a child who is considerable behind the rest of the runners. My daugheter is one of those. She is the smallest in her age group and is cute as hell. And while she competes in with girls in the same age division, she is not in the same league.
The winner of her “bantam” division ran the 1500M in 5:37.26. That’s an impressive time for someone who can’t be more than 9 years old. My daughter is 8 and finished 16th, dead last in the second heat. Her time of 9:31.81 was almost two and a half minutes behind the runner who finished 15th. As you can imagine, for most of the her last lap she was running alone. As she came to the final 100 yards, the crowd cheered as loudly for her as they did the first place finisher. I cheered too. She tries hard, she’s tiny, and boy is she cute. (That’s her finishing in the photo. Yes, I’m biased.)
In the midst of her race, I had a conversation with a close friend of ours, Eukay Chukwumerije. I told her I wondered about how the ensuing applause for her “effort” would ultimately impact my daughter, and how it might be impacting all of the kids that received cheers that day – cheers for simply giving it some level of effort, yet finishing dead last. She and her husband are from Nigeria and she shared with me their surprise when they learned at their oldest daughters first “awards” assembly in elementary school that the culture here was quite different from the culture in Nigeria. “Everyone seemed to get an award,” Eukay said. Her daughter had received an award for “effort.” They didn’t understand why awards were being given for effort. If you’ve ever attended one of these assemblies, you’ve likely felt the same way.
For these younger children, I fully understand the motivation to cheer so loudly for their effort. You want them to continue to compete. You don’t want them to just give up and stop trying. But when the same cheers happen for children much older who are finishing dead last, it makes me wonder: [pq align=right]what is achieved by applauding effort with the same strength as we applaud results?[/pq]
The 1500M run was the first event on Sunday. I spent the rest of the day watching the meet with a different eye and realize there are a few things I hope track is teaching my children.
I’m going to share those tomorrow. (edit: here is the follow up: 3 Things I Hope My Children Learn From Track )
We experienced the same “everyone gets a trophy” syndrome when our daughters were in soccer and softball. I don’t remember this when I was a kid (makes me feel a bit like an old curmudgeon saying this). In competition there are winners and losers. Experiencing both is an important part of growing up. Understanding that there is a difference is a big deal, and something that we are losing by giving everyone trophies. If everyone gets a trophy, then nobody is receiving anything special. Most kids realize the difference, even if their parents try to take the lessons of competition out of the equation for their kids.
That’s a bit different from applauding the effort and determination of the last runner. We applaud their refusal to quit, their focus on winning the battle with themselves. We applaud the potential that this experience will propel the runner to train harder, prepare better, and possibly win their next race, or the one after that.
She will remember the applause for her effort much more than a trophy.
You are reading my mind with your last few thoughts there, Bob. 🙂
Great insight Jeff! I also agree with your final thoughts, Bob.
A child’s need for love & affirmation cannot be taken for granted. Nevertheless, there’s a fine line I find myself walking on a daily basis with my kids as they get older. It’s the balancing act of applauding their genuine efforts yet having them realize that mediocre work is not rewarded.