Does Being Politically Correct Lend Itself To Providing Natural Consequences? (Part I)

In our “make everybody feel good” world (where most all of our children participate in team sports, school activities, and/or any other type of activity that requires hard work and self-discipline) we have been programmed as parents to offer up false praise or rewards for children that did not try their hardest or do their best.

Special events or rewards are given out to a child for doing what should be expected of them in the first place. I have talked to parents that give out monetary rewards for a child getting good grades in school. Shouldn’t good grades be the reward that the child is striving for? How and when does a child learn that the benefits that come from working hard and being known as a person that strives for excellence build strong self-esteem and a good feeling of self-worth?

Being involved with youth sports, I have seen well-meaning parents adamant over finding just the right trophy to give out to the players at the end of the season so each child could feel good about themselves. Little did these parents understand that their children could care less about the trophies or awards handed out at the end of the season; what was of concern to the youngsters on my baseball team was how much better they were hitting and catching at the end of the season than in the beginning. Each child knows where they stand on the team, who is the best player, and if there are awards given out, which child on the team deserves the award.

The children that I had the privilege of coaching just wanted to see Mom and Dad present at whatever event they were participating in, cheering them on, giving encouragement. My own children knew where we would be sitting at their events and would make it a point to look over to make sure we were there. I learned my lesson concerning this when my oldest boy pointed this out to me. We ran our own business and I had a salesman come in right before it was time for me to leave for his baseball game. I could have very easily told the salesman that I didn’t have time and set up another time for him to come in and try to sell me something that I wasn’t going to buy anyway. He took up my time, which I allowed him to do, causing me to get to my son’s game right as it was finishing up. As I came up to the stands I asked my wife how he had done. “Not well, he struck out every time at the plate.” The game before he had three hits for four times at bat, so I could see that he hadn’t had a good day. I walked up to him and asked, “What happened today?” With tears in his eyes he told me with no hesitation in his voice whatsoever, “I guess you’ll have to be here to find out.” What a lesson I learned that day.

I also coached my youngest son’s second grade basketball team. One of my team’s biggest highlights for our season was when the smallest child on the team, who couldn’t make a basket, made his first basket in the last game of the season. In practice I wasn’t easy on this child. I set the bar high for him just like his teammates, wanting him to learn to be able to compete with his teammates. Early on in the season I pulled him aside and talked to him about how weak he was and how we were going to work to get him stronger. This young man couldn’t do a pushup when he first started. We discussed that everyone has a starting point, and every step forward we’ll call success. But I wanted him to know that where he was at wasn’t acceptable. I couldn’t do the pushups for him; he had to do them. By the end of the season, he was squeaking out between five and six pushups. As far as I’m concerned that was acceptable.

During the last game, it was my desire to have him shoot the ball and hopefully make a basket. He would miss the basket every time he would shoot during previous games, so he got to where he wouldn’t shoot at all. We had had a very good season, only losing one game, and in the last game we were way ahead of the opposing team. Every time he would shoot and miss he would look over at me, wanting me to take him out. Well, that wasn’t going to happen. I called a time out, got him away from his teammates and told him he wasn’t doing his best. I said, “I want you to quit looking at me every time you shoot and miss. You just play your very best and if you miss every shot, I don’t care. My only concern is that you work harder than you have ever worked before, because I’m not taking you out.”

His teammates kept passing him the ball, over and over again until that ball made its way up to the hoop and he made it. The opposing team even got involved and cheered him on. That child’s whole season was culminated in that moment. He ran over to me, and I picked him up over my head and said “good job!” “But coach, he said, what if I didn’t make a basket.” “Making the basket isn’t what’s important; never giving up is. Do you see what you can do if you keep trying and don’t give up?”

That memory, that accomplishment was worth more than any plastic trophy or award certificate that could have been given. He wasn’t the best player on the team, not even close. He knew that this was the only basket he made all season--even in practice. But that very moment, when that basketball circled the rim and fell through the net, this young man knew in his heart that he could accomplish whatever he put his mind to.

There were those who thought I was riding this child too hard. Was I? Maybe, but not according to him or his mother. There is a definite difference between demanding excellence and raising the bar for a child, as compared to those that ridicule and demean a child’s character. We need to demand higher standards in our children today so that they can grow up with higher standards for themselves as adults.