Far too many children who would traditionally be considered "advantaged" are being raised under a "perfect storm" -- they are spoon-fed an empty notion of their specialness from birth, and simultaneously piled-on to believe that success is measured by standardized test scores and "the right" college acceptances. At the end of the ivy-trimmed rainbow that has been drawn for them (inside the lines, on paper that doesn't allow for mess-ups or spills), there might be little more than a gold-plated mess. (More on what's waiting at the end of the rainbow in my next post...)
To start, we could play the "special" theme out in any arena-- school, music, sports. It starts in utero and the opportunities for affirmation are endless and relentless-- think about all of the organized baby "classes" and even the strange pull of a video tape called "Baby Einstein. Geez, couldn't we just let them be cute and idle and see what happens? I realize that compared to where we are, I am asking to revert to the Stone Age. But, I stand by it, because I think real dinosaurs may have had something on purple ones. I'm just saying.
Let's start with sports. Though it is now almost a decade ago, I recall thinking it was ridiculous when my son's kindergarten soccer team all received plastic medals at the end of their "season." (I'm pretty sure I thought having a team at all was silly, but we had to join that little band of brothers in order for my wheels to start spinning about what was wrong with the picture...) It proceeded to become clearer that something had really run amok as my kids gathered the "hardware of participation" throughout elementary school. They would never understand how much the ONE tennis trophy I'd won by the age of ten really meant to me. I wished my kids could have that feeling. But they'd been given so much plastic finery, so soon. That ship had sailed.
I wonder, when I think back on the kindergarten "end of season" party, should I have declined? What were we celebrating? That we, a group of twenty responsible, well-educated adults had just spent eight weekends in a row doing nothing but driving up and down parkways and sitting on sidelines while our kids played against ten kids who lived in communities just like ours, but an hour and a half away? That we would have a respite from complaining to each other about how this was our lot in life? (Oh, wait, no, because the "indoor season" was just about to start!) No. If I had it to do over again, I would have started raising my voice louder and sooner.
Travel sports relies on the fantasy that your child is "special." That she is somehow so beyond the "rec" league (at age six or so) that you need to bring her to another town in order for her to "develop" or "be seen." Travel sports exists because an "adult" could anoint a group of children the "A" team and then make demands upon that child's entire family that the parents would willingly submit to involving, for example, the total abandonment of time spent together at home on a weekend; or, dinners together seated at a kitchen table. I even hear parents talk about when "we" have a game. Really? Are WE all playing? My playing days are so over. And, "nationals?" When I was a kid, that was a word that hardly applied to anyone I'd ever met-- but now your whole team can go if "we" (the "parents on the team") will pay for entry to the tournament in Disney!...What is the message here?
I should say, here, that travel sport parents do not have a monopoly on the insanity and disconnection that is contemporary parenting, or even contemporary culture at large. They happen to illustrate one version of it. Travel sports as a "family activity" are of course not the worst of the potential sources of disconnection, but they are an artificial construct, a neat and easy structure imposed where it would be much messier, much more emotionally complicated, and maybe much too dangerous to build one for ourselves. What if we just had to sit around and talk with one another?
I should say, here, that travel sport parents do not have a monopoly on the insanity and disconnection that is contemporary parenting, or even contemporary culture at large. They happen to illustrate one version of it. Travel sports as a "family activity" are of course not the worst of the potential sources of disconnection, but they are an artificial construct, a neat and easy structure imposed where it would be much messier, much more emotionally complicated, and maybe much too dangerous to build one for ourselves. What if we just had to sit around and talk with one another?
I realize, in raising my questions and criticizing an institution around which so many current weekends are built, that there are some practical problems inherent in my position. First of all, of COURSE I love to watch my children doing things they love, being part of something bigger than themselves, and improving themselves by hard work. OF COURSE I want to support them in everything they do. But I'm not sure that being there on the sideline for every game, every shot, every miss, every everything is the best I can do for them. I want my kids to be able to have to whole gamut of athletic experiences --whether they make the shot at the buzzer, or strike out to end the game, and Kipling-like, "treat those impostors just the same," I think in the long run it is actually reassuring to a kid to realize that the fate of the universe is not, in fact, resting on their performance in or the outcome of their game against Rival Nation.
In fact, it might also help them to realize that they are actually "not so special" if you were doing something really meaningful during their game. To clarify-- I am by no means promoting reckless disregard for or negligence as related to your child's activities. I'm advocating for the opportunity to teach our kids humility and also perspective. I'm also not making any proclamation of what might constitute "doing something really meaningful" during the game. Maybe it's going home and preparing a really good dinner, which your whole family could sit down to after the game. Strong research tells us that having dinner together might be the most important thing we can do for our family's health and well-being, but we've been willing to look the other way in order to watch them play a game???
In fact, it might also help them to realize that they are actually "not so special" if you were doing something really meaningful during their game. To clarify-- I am by no means promoting reckless disregard for or negligence as related to your child's activities. I'm advocating for the opportunity to teach our kids humility and also perspective. I'm also not making any proclamation of what might constitute "doing something really meaningful" during the game. Maybe it's going home and preparing a really good dinner, which your whole family could sit down to after the game. Strong research tells us that having dinner together might be the most important thing we can do for our family's health and well-being, but we've been willing to look the other way in order to watch them play a game???
If our kids spent a little more time on the playground, without us (or the uniforms, snacks, or juice boxes we provide) they might actually be fine with the idea that they aren't that special. They could enjoy the game without it feeling like it is a means to an end. Instead, just a game. Realistically by the numbers, that's all it is going to be for the vast majority, whether or not their parents want to admit it. Seriously, the kids would be totally fine. The question is, would their parents????
Today's Balancing Act: Can you consider missing one of your child's games this week? What would that be like for you? For him/her? What would be hard? What would you do with the time? How might your son/daughter benefit? What is it like for you to even ask these questions?
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