It’s graduation time! It’s also time for the myriad end-of-year hoopla that accompanies just about every activity children do. In point of fact, I just returned, about a half-hour ago, from Daniel’s school for the fourth-grade band and orchestra concert. He’s with the band (I love saying that!). He’s no virtuoso — geez, the kid only started “playing” clarinet last October! — but he’s proud of “making” band. With my idea of this post already circulating in my head — that graduation ceremonies, from preschool on up, possibly put too much emphasis on how exceptional the graduates are — I was pleased to hear the introduction to the concert by the school principal: he didn’t call them exceptional. He said he was proud of how hard they’d worked. (Me, too!).
He did it! Daniel with his clarinet this morning
This year, we have no graduation ceremonies on the docket. But we’ve been there, already: They wore mortarboards and tiny gowns for graduation from daycare, and from preschool.
Here’s Daniel, with James and me, at his preschool graduation in June, 2007:
Love the class-made mortarboard!
The “you’re so special!” events aren’t just confined to leaving one school and moving on to another. My boys, like many, also get soccer trophies, twice a year. And little certificates that say “Good singing!” in music class. They get a certificate each year after their piano recital,with a photo of each of them at the Steinway grand they get to play in the recital space (a far cry from our third-hand tinny upright!). James even has, taped to his door, a certificate congratulating him on the “great job!” he did on his book report earlier this year.
He did do a great job, it’s true. Both my children are indeed special.
Or so I believe. But I’m careful to tell them that piano requires hard work before you’re granted the certificate, and that soccer is about teamwork and decidedly non-glorious practices along with thrilling games, and that they should be proud more of the completed book report than of the sign on the door with the little heart next to the teacher’s signature.
Because they’re all special. But they’re also all the same. That was the message imparted to the 2012 graduates of Wellesley High School in Massachusetts last week, in a wonderful commencement speech made by a teacher named David McCullough. It was all about how these kids are not special, how they are one of many, which makes them ordinary rather than exceptional.
Here’s what he said, in part:
You are not special. You are not exceptional.
Contrary to what your u9 soccer trophy suggests, your glowing seventh grade report card, despite every assurance of a certain corpulent purple dinosaur, that nice Mister Rogers and your batty Aunt Sylvia, no matter how often your maternal caped crusader has swooped in to save you… you’re nothing special.
Yes, you’ve been pampered, cosseted, doted upon, helmeted, bubble-wrapped. Yes, capable adults with other things to do have held you, kissed you, fed you, wiped your mouth, wiped your bottom, trained you, taught you, tutored you, coached you, listened to you, counseled you, encouraged you, consoled you and encouraged you again. You’ve been nudged, cajoled, wheedled and implored. You’ve been feted and fawned over and called sweetie pie. Yes, you have. And, certainly, we’ve been to your games, your plays, your recitals, your science fairs.
McCullough goes on to caution that too many accolades put the focus on what you get from what you do. Americans, he tells the graduates, have come to view rewards and praise as the point rather than the result. Which means that,
…we’re happy to compromise standards, or ignore reality, if we suspect that’s the quickest way, or only way, to have something to put on the mantelpiece, something to pose with, crow about, something with which to leverage ourselves into a better spot on the social totem pole. No longer is it how you play the game, no longer is it even whether you win or lose, or learn or grow, or enjoy yourself doing it…
I am not saying that I wish my sons didn’t get certificates and trophies. I’m not sure it’s practical or would have the right outcome if we suddenly said, “you only get soccer/dance/piano trophies if you do really really well! Sorry, kid who couldn’t master the slide tackle or the grand jete!”
But I do wish we could find a way to tell them, as McCullough so eloquently told those high school seniors, that while they are indeed special and the most beautiful and perfect beings we’ve ever seen, they are only one of many, many perfect and beautiful centers of the universe. That if they use their gifts for the world, rather than for themselves, to pursue their passions for passion’s sake, they get so much more than trophies and certificates and notches on the college application.
From McCullough’s conclusion:
Climb the mountain not to plant your flag, but to embrace the challenge, enjoy the air and behold the view. Climb it so you can see the world, not so the world can see you.
Ordinary, not exceptional. What do you think?
Love this sentiment! Great post.
Tearing up, absolutely love it and totally agree. This every kid is special thing is so detrimental, IMO, in so many ways, for all the reasons you say. Kids lose touch with reality, don’t recognize areas where they DO need to put in more work, and get so focused on being so great and special and adored by others that they miss out on enjoying what they are doing and giving to others. God, I wish more parents out there thought like you! Maybe little by little we will change the conversation.
I once read a question from a kindergartener who asked, “Why did I get a trophy when I hardly showed up for karate?”
Good question, kid.
Nice job, Denise!
Thanks for this! It’s something that I’ve tried to impress on my kids, but as we move on from playgroups to preschool, to grade school and Cub Scouts, etc. it definitely feels like swimming against the tide sometimes. It’s a sentiment that bears repeating!
I read the entire speech earlier today and I couldn’t agree more but at the same time, I think finding out what each individual child excels is helpful for them. I also think they need to know where they fail, for the same reason.
We are all the same in that we are but one person. Each of us has the same value = one person. The ability to use your value for the betterment of the world is what makes us all special. This is done is big and small ways, btw.
It is up to every one of us to share our ‘specialness’; thereby, living a commendable life.
YES. Amen. Thank you.
Thanks so much for pointing me here- and for your comment on my post. We’re so much in the same place. And wow, I LOVE the notion of getting a beautiful photo of your child at the piano in lieu of a trophy. I just may drop that hint at a few of my kids’ extra-curriculars.
“Climb it so you can see the world, not so the world can see you” – that may have been my favorite part of all.
Thanks for stopping by, Liz. I’m flattered — big fan!
Denise
I just finished reading your book and had to come check out your blog as well! What a book to make me feel better! I live in a neighborhood with a lot of stay-at-home mothers, who seem to give in at every whim. This 1) makes it easy for my nine and five year olds to give me grief, and 2) gets me a smattering of steely-eyed looks every time we’re out and about. Your book was refreshingly honest and so nice for me to alli up with you…even if only in spirit!
As far as graduation goes. Just the other day I was talking to my just-out-for-summer son who said something regarding “graduating the third grade.” First I had to stop myself from audibly groaning and rolling my eyes. Then I gave his sweet little cheeks a pat and said, “Ah sweetie, you graduate from high school or university. No one graduates third grade. You just move on.” Unfortunately, for me, I said it just loud enough for another mother to hear. A mother who just, most definitely, had a son who graduated from the second grade. My bad….I guess.
Harmony, thank you! So glad to hear you enjoyed the book!
Denise
I completely agree! We just talked the other day about the medal from soccer. We stressed that the medal was for working hard at soccer, not because my son, or his team, was the best. I like a recognition of effort and commitment, as young kids need something to reward effort until they can develop that intrinsic motivation, but it has definitely gone too far at times. And the end of the speech – amazing! That may need to go up on a wall somewhere in my home!
I too read the speech and loved it. Too bad, I thought that these kids are hearing this at the END of high school. Love your take. You hit the nail on the head when you said “Both my children are indeed special. Or so I believe.”
We are heading into Grade 8 grad and I am so proud of the young lady my daughter is becoming, not for graduating middle school because um, that’s a given right?
We don’t believe it is that big of a deal. An appropriate occasion to say good bye to middle school and moving onto high school sure but the expense of the day that people have allowed to be showered on their special little snowflakes is disproportionate to the occasion. It’s been challenging to “do the hard stuff now…” when my daughter covets the inappropriate “prom” type dresses that all her friends have. She can have her day with all the bells an whistle at prom…in gr 12 AND university.
It’s so encouraging to see these like-minded moms out there. I was mystified by hearing about “graduation” for the past few months…at my son’s preschool. Class of 2012…it’s ABSURD. You’re going to lose track of all the years. It’s getting so overblown and inflated…undermining the special quality of high school and college graduations. It’s like there is no nuance anymore, no sense that just growing up and moving on is important in its own right. I feel like maybe there is a movement building, tied to simple living, sustainable living, the nature movement (advocating for recess — gone in so many schools now, and just time for kids to play outside, unscheduled), Free Range Kids (Lenore Skenazy)…lots of people out there feeling the same kind of dissatisfaction with the current system. I hope the momentum continues to build.
I just finished your book and wanted to say a big Thank You for putting it out there! My partner and I both appreciated seeing our “general idea of parenting” put down on paper.
As for graduation, I think this is a great sentiment. I’ve always thought that there was a big problem with telling every kid out there that they can do anything they want and should always shoot for the stars. It’s simply not true and I believe that the constant pressure to achieve the highest standard creates unsatisfied adults. In my graduating class there was a guy who just wanted to be a truck driver but was afraid to admit it to anyone because it wasn’t “good enough”.
my husband and I call them trophies to mediocrity!