|
PARENTING
Tips &
Articles
|
"My Rating Has Dropped!"
"He’s the brightest in his class!"
"He’s been the top goal scorer on his team for 5
years!"
"Isn’t she gorgeous - she’s the prettiest girl in her
class!"
"I don’t care about the 6 A’s - how come you got a B in
science?"
"Thank God for Suzie - with all the problems we’ve had with
Billy, I don’t know what we’d do if she wasn’t so good!"
Ever wondered what kids make of these kind of statements? How they
interpret them? What they allow it to mean about themselves?
A 9 year old boy I’ll call Eric came into my office with his mom
one day because he’d been in trouble several times at school over
the previous two weeks. Not big trouble. More like normal nine year
old boy mischief. He had joined a "club" of other third
grader boys and the group had been caught trying to charge another boy
an "entry fee" to get into their exclusive club. Another day
he and a new friend had teased another child till they were in tears,
in yet another episode of "playground politics." Seemingly
harmless mischief, yet his parents were fit-to-be-tied.
From his parent’s perspective, Eric had always been so good, so
bright, kind of a golden-haired boy. He’s mom, with great pride and
intensity in her voice, told me in front of Eric, how he was the
brightest boy in his class. And that she and his dad were so upset
because the trouble with his new friends had caused him to be less
motivated about finishing his schoolwork, that he wasn’t trying his
hardest. And that if his grades continued to slip, he’d have a hard
time getting into the competitive school they had their eyes on for
him for 7th grade. Whew! It was exhausting for me to hear, the
intensity of mom’s fears. I wondered how it felt for her 9 year old.
Eric initially sat upright in his chair, listening intently to his
mom’s speech. He shared his viewpoint a few times, but was quickly
overshadowed by his mom’s fervor. When she talked about him being
the brightest in his class, Eric’s shoulders drooped a little. When
mom complained that he wasn’t trying his hardest, his whole body and
spirit slumped in the chair.
"What are you feeling right now, listening to your mom?"
"I don’t know, I’ve heard it before."
"You look discouraged right now on the outside. What are you
feeling inside?"
"Sad," he said quietly. Tears welled up in his eyes as he
sank a little lower in his chair.
"Why sad?" I asked. Then came the pay dirt.
"I feel like my rating has dropped."
Wow! At this point his mom started to cry, and she reached over and
held his hand. For the first time that day she was quiet, her fear for
his future having been replaced by her love for him in the moment.
When kids hear comments like the ones at the beginning of this
article, they interpret them in many ways. But I think the most common
way is to see them as pressure. Pressure to not make mistakes.
Pressure to be a certain way and to live up to a code of expectations
laid out by well meaning parents.
These pressures motivate some kids for a while to try hard, to
compete. They very much want their parent’s approval. But as they
get into middle school age, pleasing their parents becomes less
important than what their friends think, and their former motivation
now has no power. We’ve seen lots of these bright, former high
achievers become unmotivated, do-enough-to-just-get-by teenagers.
Others may continue to push on, working hard to be the best,
constantly striving to prove themselves and meet other people’s high
expectations. These high expectations later on become their own
measuring sticks. I’ve worked with thousands of unhappy teens and
adults who have made it, become successful as far as titles, jobs,
income. But they’re miserable. They can’t turn off that never
ending tape inside them that says it’s never enough; gotta do more;
gotta find a new challenge. Constantly restless and empty. I know that
feeling myself.
Eric was sad because he felt like he was disappointing his parents
letting them down. And he felt like I won’t be loved unless I
achieve, unless I’m the best. In reality, he was just going through
some normal growing pains. He’d always been a fairly sedentary kid,
preferring to spend time with books or in front of a computer to being
outside playing with friends. Intellectually, he was advanced for his
age, but he lagged a little behind in his social skills. He had been
trying his best at school for 4 years. And his recent mischief was the
result of his forays into the world of grade school playground
politics. He was learning about making friends, about being a friend,
about relationships. Very important stuff for 9 years old. Actually
more important than his studies in the long run. Learning that he’d
put off in his quest to be the brightest. Eric was trying to find some
balance between schoolwork and friends, (not unlike many of your
struggles with finding balance between work and home and friends as
adults). And he was making some mistakes, as we all doing our learning
process.
I know Eric’s parents. They have worked very hard to educate
themselves about kids and parenting. They’ve done an awesome job
with Eric. And, like many parents today, they got caught up in the
current cultural trend that everyone should be an A student, excel at
sports, be involved in 30 activities. Yes sir, no room for average
today! Every kids needs to be trying their best ALWAYS or they get
flak. YUK!
I suggested to Eric’s mom that they eliminate words and phrases
like best, brightest, we don’t care about your grades as long as you
try your hardest 24 hours a day, 7 days a week, 52 weeks a year. Eric,
like most bright kids, loves to learn; loves to meet a challenge head
on. And once they’ve mastered the challenge, they can say with pride
that "I did it!" Eric needs to be able to look at his
parents and see unconditional love and pride. To know he is loved
because of who he is, not for what he does. The only rating that Eric
needs is his own internal sense of who he is. His own sense of
accomplishment.
Thank goodness kids don’t give out quarterly report cards on
their parents. I might be spending some time in the principal’s
office!
|