Choose to be Right, Not Popular

I want to tell you a story….      Imagine, if you will, a seventh grade classroom, filled with twelve and thirteen year old students.  In this school, there are three such classrooms.  Similarly, there are also three classrooms of sixth graders and three of eighth graders in this school.  Oh, and all nine classrooms are in a heated year-long  competition. The “Service Hours” Honor is at stake – a prestigious award for any classroom to win, proving their group spent this most time giving back to the community, and, (maybe more importantly to some) rewarded with an end-of year classroom pizza party.  Competition is fierce – for every hour a student participates in a community-related service role, the class is credited one service point.  At the end of the year, the class with the most points wins the adoration of the school – and the aforementioned pizza party.

Students take this competition very seriously.  Yes, it is about giving back to the community – but it is also a competition.  Winning is winning.

Back to our seventh grade classroom… the competition is tight this year.  This particular seventh grade classroom is in second place, trailing by a mere 10 points.  The teacher gives an inspiring pep talk.  One month to go.  Everyone needs to pitch in. Give back a little more.  Give of themselves.  Give of their time.

After class, the teacher pulls aside one of the classroom leaders, we’ll call him Tommy.   The teacher needs some help – there is a student, let’s call him John, who has not added many points to the classroom total this year and his additional points could really put their room over the top.  The teacher suggests Tommy “help” John understand how important his participation would be.

Tommy approaches John later that day and suggests that he join a group who would be painting a local childcare center that weekend. John politely declines.  Tommy explains, in stronger terms, that John’s help is not really voluntary anymore….he is expected to be a part of this “team”.  John, again, declines. Not his thing.

Next, things get ugly.  In an attempt to motivate John, Tommy turns up the heat.  He tells John that for every day he resists “doing his part”, there will be a consequence. Day one – John is grabbed afterschool by Tommy and some friends and duct-taped to a flagpole.  Day two – John receives threatening voicemails using profane language and racial slurs.  Day Three – Tommy  explains to John that if he doesn’t plan to help, that he “owes” his team….he needs to pay up - $100 to cover everyone’s lunch and refreshments while they work at the child care center.  And it goes on…

To make matters worse, Tommy has spread the word about John’s turncoat ways to their classmates.  Everyone now knows that John isn’t a team player.  They are going to lose this contest because of one guy – John.  So, John is shunned. He sits down at lunch and everyone else gets up and leaves the table.  The frustrations hits the brink – John throws his food trays across the cafeteria and storms out of school.

John takes his feud public. He makes a video documenting his ordeal.  When it goes viral, John’s classmates are furious at him. How could he throw them under the bus like that?!?!  People won’t understand that Tommy and the rest of the class were just trying to get John to be a part of the team, to contribute, to do his fair share – to help them win!

Now, take another moment – imagine again all these things happened in the same way – the contest, the competitive nature of the group, the leader looking for someone to guide a team member, the nature of how this teammate was being coerced, the terrible result – imagine all of that    ---   but now they're adults and in your office.

Bullying is bullying is bullying.  There are no excuses or exceptions.  And we need to open our eyes to how often we try to justify it.

So, I listen to way too much sports radio.  I know this seems like a digression – but bear with me.  While music has always been so integrated into my life, oddly, I’ve never been one to put on a music station in my car when I’m driving alone.  I like listening to conversations – and since political conversation on the radio these days is cartoonish at best, most of my driving time is spent listening to guys talk about sports.  I fully admit that I listen too much, too often, and there are more productive way to be spending my time… and yet I do it anyway. 

I mention this because this week, one topic has dominated the sports radio airwaves, and it really isn’t solely a “sports story” – in fact, I think it is a parenting story.  Richie Incognito, an offensive lineman for the Miami Dolphins has been accused by a teammate, Jonathan Martin, of bullying.  Maybe I’m downplaying the terminology here. What has actually happened is Jonathan Martin has been the apparent victim of workplace harassment, extortion and bigotry at the hand of Richie Incognito.   I won’t dwell too much on the details, as you can find them in countless articles published this week like this one: http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2013/11/04/richie-incognito-jonathan-martin-racial-slur-threats_n_4213340.html.  In the end, fed up after yet another incident, Martin slammed down a tray of food during a lunch break at the Miami training facility and walked out.

Here is the amazing part to me – there are people out there, many in the NFL or former NFL players -- who feel like they can justify Incognito’s actions, and some actually blame Martin, the victim, for the problems he’s having!  I’ve read and heard comments like “he should have kept the issues internal to the team” and “he should have manned up and just hit Incognito”.  I’ve heard justifications like “every NFL rookie has to go through this” (Martin is actually a second year player, but this has been going on since last year) and “hazing builds a stronger team – brotherhood!”   Parts of this story actually made me sick to my stomach: http://www.usatoday.com/story/sports/nfl/2013/11/05/bullying-jonathan-martin-richie-incognito/3449621/

Where to start?  I think I should be very clear here – I’m not angry at Incoginto.  Some of you might find that unsettling, as there is plenty of evidence that would logically lead to having real anger at his actions.  And I’m not here to tell you that you shouldn’t be angry.   However, I choose not to be.  As a third party observer, what I feel is maybe not what you’d expect – I feel sympathy for Incognito.  This man is clearly broken. There is something missing from his life.  When people act in a way that makes others feel small, they are generally doing so to make themselves feel better.  The bully in grade school isn’t just a bully because he enjoys torturing his peers – he tortures his peers to give himself power and that makes him feel better.  And people who need to make themselves feel better at the expense of others clearly have issues. Bullies become bullies because something missing from their lives. 

This is not to suggest that Incognito is blameless.  Far from it.  He’s culpable for everything he did and should reap the repercussions.  But being angry with him is separate from wanting there to be consequences.  To do the things he’s done (and he has a long, ugly history of being a “bad boy”), I believe he must have a gaping hole in his soul.  It is my most sincerely hope, for his sake and those around him, he finds what he needs to repair it.  My guess is that won’t happen without a lot of professional help to guide the healing process. Let’s hope the ulcer isn’t so far gone that Incognito won’t accept some assistance in healing it.

What I see in this whole awful situation is a lack of leadership.  Let’s start with the coaches – there have been a couple of accounts of both players and coaches suggesting Martin should have “kept this in house” rather than allowing it to become public, as it is now.  Well, friends, if the management (i.e. “coaches”) wanted this to be an internal matter, they had their chance.  They could have created a culture of teamwork through support rather than torture (and make no mistake –“hazing” is torture.  Stop sugar coating it.  Duct taping a person  -- a human being – to a goal post…or forcibly gang-holding a person down and covering his entire body in Icy/Hot solution… or making someone run through a line where he is hit with bags filled with coins…that is torture no matter what more friendly term you’d like to attach to it).  The coaching staff could have created an environment with an ‘open door / no repercussion’ policy.  They could have guided the players to select high character guys as team leaders (ironically, Incoginto was, in fact, on the Leadership Council for the Dolphins).  They could have done any of these things, but they didn’t.

In fact, there are some reports that the coaches actually nudged Incognito to help”toughen up” Martin.  Want to know why?  Want to know Martin’s indiscretion?  Want to know what would so anger the coaching staff that they would encourage torture?  It was a doozie – you see, Jonathan Martin chose to not attend a non-mandatory, off-season training session.  So, instead of communicating with Martin, instead of discussing the importance of his attendance at such sessions, instead of investigating if there might be some reason he didn’t choose to attend….these so-called-leaders decided Martin needed to learn a lesson and “toughen up”.  Morons.  Shameful.  And if this information holds to be true, if they indeed encouraged Incognito’s behavior, they should all be fired.

There is another group who is culpable, too -- the players. Am I expected to believe they didn’t see the bullying?  Of course they did.  However, I have yet to see any information – neither evidence nor even an anecdote of how Martin’s teammates came to his support.  These big, brawny guys who pride themselves on being “brothers” and who claimed to have bonded through the “war on the field” shamefully sit by while one of their own is humiliated, extorted, threatened, and shunned by their peer?  The excuse of “clubhouse culture” is not acceptable – not for something like this.  Would you sit idly by if you knew a co-worker was abusing someone in your department?   Seriously think about that – if you saw someone being extorted, being physically roughed up, being called racial slurs, being shunned…  would you wash your hands of it?  If no one else was willing to call out this behavior, would you be okay with the mob-mentality acceptance? 

Here’s what I know – if this was happening around my kids, if they observed this type of behavior, I would not only want them to speak up about it, I would fully expect them to.  I want them to lead, not follow.  And to allow such behavior to exist, even if it isn’t being done to you – to allow it to exist and not to act is shameful. 

It so happens that Jack came upon a bullying situation earlier this year – for privacy reasons, I’m going to leave out the detail, but needless to say, there was a group of people who were overpowering an individual, and this individual was not the most popular person in school.  Many thought the group “cool” for being able to torment the individual as they did…. And Jack made a difficult decision.  He chose to be right rather than be popular.  He reported the problem, and the administration of the school handled things from there.

If my thirteen year olds son gets it – if he is willing to do what is right instead of what is popular -- surely grown men should be expected to as well.

To Richie Incognito, please find help. Admit your mistakes, take ownership, accept the consequences, learn from it and allow professionals to guide you to a better, healthier place. To his coaches and teammates, take a look in the mirror. No longer can you accept mob-mentality and allow this abuse.  You want kids to look up and idolize to you, earn it.  I know there are players and coaches who would never have allowed this to happen – Tony Dungy, Herm Edwards, J.J. Watts to name a few.  Be leaders, not followers. And to Jonathan Martin, thank you for having the courage to walk out and find a non-violent solution.  I’m sorry for what you’ve endured.  I’m glad that you’ve given us more focus and another opportunity to have this important national conversation.

Guidelines from the Sidelines

My ten year old son, Will, was writing a science paper the other day. In it, he had written “Today, I am researching the idea that….” When I suggested to him that perhaps he might want to change the language to read “I’ve researched the idea….”, he looked at me, stupefied.  “But, Dad, the research isn’t done yet.  I’m doing it as I write this paper.”  I took a moment to try to grasp his point of view – he wanted to accurately report on what he was actively doing – and I explained that, to the reader, this topic and research will all have been done already, so it is appropriate to assume the future and write the paper from that perspective.

Assume the future.  That was a tough concept to explain.  It hit me that one of the really great things about being a kid is not having to assume the future.  Kids live in the now.   They know the future is out there, but, like much in their lives, the future is not completely in their control so they manage to cope with the idea that it’ll happen when it happens.   They can make great guesses about what the future holds, but those guesses usually aren’t rooted in reality.  For example, Will is convinced, legitimately convinced, he will be a running back in the NFL one day.  He does not understand the infinitesimal odds of that being a career option for him…  the math alone is fairly astounding:

• There are 32 NFL teams
• Each team carries, roughly, 3-4 running backs on their roster
• 3.5 roster spots times 32 teams equals 112 jobs in any given year
• One estimate is that roughly 1,000,000 boys play high school football every year
• Given the 112 running back positions available, there is a .0112% chance for any of those million boys to become a professional running back.to become a professional running back.

Add to those odds the fact that genetics did Will no favors… he is not particularly big, nor is he particularly fast.  But, let’s just say he was above average in each of those areas – I think that may be wishful thinking but just for fun, let’s assume that were true.  Does “above average” make it in a league where just .0112% of job applicants are accepted into the field (Get it?  Field? They’re football players….  I digress….) No, “above average” kids might make it one rung higher on the ladder, but to be an NFL running back, somewhere along the way the words ”great”, ”outstanding, “top”,  or “awesome” need to be the description of one’s skills.

But here’s the beauty of youth – Will doesn’t care about the long odds.  He doesn’t care about being shorted in this area by the workings of genetics (sorry, buddy – probably my fault….my genes don’t have the NFL emblem embossed on them).   He knows he’s going to be an NFL running back.  Who am I to tell him he can’t be?

As a parent, I also want him to be prepared for other life options –you know, just in case.  We’ve talked about journalism. We’ve discussed opportunities in the arts.  Will has an entrepreneurial spirit, as well.  But in his mind, all these options are for when his NFL career is over.  That’s the blessing of youth. 

I’m not so foolish to think I can know anything about my children’s futures.  I, too, can make guesses – hopefully bit more educated and grounded than theirs, but guesses nonetheless.  And while I can’t know what the future holds for them, I can know what I want the future to hold for them… so, instead of giving them hard and fast rules, Blythe and I try to instill some core values to help them make good decisions for their future.  I trust my kids… I feel if we can give them some basic guidelines to follow, they will each blossom beautifully and in their own way.  So, here are some of the ideas we try to instill:

Make Healthy Choices:  This is such a tough subject…  everywhere you turn, there is different advice on what is and isn’t good for you.  So, what can we do?  We try to instill some basic core concepts– sleep is good (the two year old is still working on this one); when you’re not feeling well, sleep is even more important; foods with fewer chemicals are probably better than those with a lot; foods with lower sugar content are probably better than foods with a lot (Halloween, you did not help us here!); fruits and veggies are important; fried anything isn’t going to do you any good; moderation is key; moving your body is important; you have one body that needs to last a long time….  We hope these building blocks help our kids to form good decisions over the long run.

Take Risks: I guess some parents prefer to root their kids in the realities of life. There are probably plenty of you who think me the fool for allowing Will to think he could play in the NFL one day.  (You probably think me the fool for many more reasons than that, but let’s just use this one example for now…)  However, I never want to clip my kids’ wings.  I constantly encourage them to dream big.  There is nothing more exciting to me than to watch them embrace the challenge and chase those dreams.  They may not achieve their original goal, but I have a belief that they will achieve regardless.  My greatest desire is that my kids aren’t afraid to fail.  It’s about the journey, not the destination. Hokey? Yes…but true nonetheless.

Work Hard:  I remember my grandmother complimenting me early in life – and boasting to anyone who’d listen about how “smart” I was.  While flattering to be described that way, I’ve learned over time that “being smart” can be a weight around your neck. “Smart” gets you virtually nothing in life.  What I have noted about people who have great success in life, in any field, is they invariably are the hardest workers around.  They’re the folks who don’t accept obstacles and barriers, who barrel through the hours and the issues. They have a singular focus on the work at hand.  Malcolm Gladwell famously theorized that it takes 10,000 hours of practice to become an expert… successful people see that as the bare minimum of effort.

Be Kind:  No matter your lot in life, there are always others who find themselves in less desirable situations.  Sometimes, it is easy to forget and easier still to judge harshly.  My most sincere hope is that my kids find ways to embrace their communities and lead through compassion.  While I do my best to model this behavior, I hope they are far better at this than am I.  I’m so fortunate that compassion is a part of their natural behavior.  Blythe and I hope to stoke those fires into a lifelong engine for them.

Follow Your Heart: There are few things as awful as waking up every day and knowing you’re going to be miserable for the next ten hours.  I know far too many friends who would trade in their occupation in a heartbeat if their life circumstances would allow.  My hope is that my children have the intestinal fortitude to use their hearts when choosing their life activities.  I want them to wake up every day excited to be jumping into life’s waters. 

Make healthy choices, take risks, work hard, be kind, and follow your heart.  Will those values help guide my kids to lead long, healthy, fulfilled lives? I don’t know.  I hope so.  What I know for sure is that Blythe and I get the honor of watching those seeds grow.  We’ll be sitting on the sidelines, rooting them on…and who knows, for Will maybe that will be a literal sideline rather than a figurative one.

Mermaids, Zombies, and Duct Tape

I am not much into holidays and I tend to find the negatives in each one preferring the steadiness of making a little something of everyday rather then predesignating in advance some to be better then others.  These exercises in excessive commerce tend to lose any real intended meaning and I could do without the interruptions.  On this topic I am a dud.

Normally for Halloween I am on travel and miss it or just dread the cost of one time use costumes and the dreary canvasing of the neighborhood for candy I can just buy at Wal-Mart for a few bucks at any time. As I  chaperon the children and make sure they are always polite and say thank you I dread the task of rationing the candy over the course of weeks until half of it is thrown away or worse, eaten by me.

However one does what must be done.  Children prepared in costume the drill begins.

As darkness approached our journey carried us far away to the house on the back corner of the planned community that is positioned in a way that makes it feel like the lost cabin in the woods, the mood aided by the surrounding trees that are going to sleep for winter and the dreary gray sky.  My six year old informs me that she had been told the zombies all come from there.

Then suddenly as if by magic curse, her plastic pumpkin candy bucket split in two.  So I improvised as most fathers would and ran back to the house to grab some duct tape.  I understood if that vessel completely failed and spilled her hard earned provisions on the ground then the zombies would surely come to loot.

As I returned to my team of two daughters, her long time companion and three guards had combined forces into a blur of giants and little scary things.  I repaired the plastic pumpkin my princess mermaid carried to collect her treasure.

Satisfied for a moment I quickly fell ill and my mind turned mad. My princess then handed me a doll to carry for her and as her loyal assistant I accepted the task without asking why she had that object in the first place. I took a six inch piece of duct tape from the role and covered my mouth and began to moan.  I had become a zombie.

I was not interested in "fun packed" candy bars. I wanted to eat kids. I growled and acted like a zombie monster. The neighborhood began to fill with that unique sound of screams mixed with laughter that only children can make as they ran from house to house until as we made short work of plundering the territory.

Then a pause as time suddenly stood still. My youngest spilled her ill gotten gain.  I removed the tape and character as it was time for triage. An emergency of dramatic proportion had risen.  We must gather the candy from the ground within five seconds before spoilage, theft, or tears ensue.  Upon avoiding catastrophe my little princess looked at me and said "Dad put that back on and be a zombie".

I continued to chase the kids around as they screamed, laughed and looted. Growling and flailing my arms, hiding behind bushes and cars, carrying a doll in one hand a role of duct tape in the other I ran up and down driveways chasing kids up to doorsteps decorated with ghosts and pumpkins.  Real zombies don't act this way and I wondered what in the world other parents could be thinking not knowing how this all came to be.  

I tried my best to only chase my own who understood the joke but as other kids looked confused I heard both of my daughters explain to them "Don't worry, that is my Daddy".  Then they wanted in the game too.

Afterward I thought my gratitude for what what my kids remind me of each day.  The joy of just improvising, spontaneity and doing something silly in the moment mixed with their imagination can be enough for a great family memory.  I did not mind embarrassing myself for their laughter, after all it was Halloween and I had dressed up as a Dad. 

Always Look at Least Three Ways

The park where some good friends of ours were helping us out by taking family pictures also had a large playground.  This is like me seeing a Fry’s Electronics store or even a Radio Shack if I have to settle so naturally I understand when my daughters head over there and I must give chase.  The slides were made of plastic and not too hot under the sun. Unfortunately they had puddles of water and sand somehow and in “photo picture” clothing there was no way I could let them climb those stairs or I would be he one in the most trouble.

So I negotiated.   “We can go to the Ice Cream store later today.”   That is actually an Arctic Circle fast food joint that makes shakes and has an indoor playground.   So when it came time to make good on my promise we began the long journey.  

Whenever we do this I resist cracking up watching the little legs of my two year old trying to keep up.  I try to keep her focused about her surroundings.  A pet rabbit spotted through a fence catches her attention easily but I am more worried about cars.  It is only about 1.5 blocks but it must feel like a mile to her.  She doesn't care because she knows a vanilla courtesy cone awaits her.  

I won’t let them jaywalk.  They have to use the corner even if it is a bit out of the way.   When we get there I teach my oldest (5 years) about the traffic sign.  "Notice the red stop with the counting number and then when it turns to a green person walking, get moving."   Out of courtesy to others I also teach no “dilly dally” getting across.  It is one of my pet peeves when people stroll lazily through any crosswalk.

We get to the restaurant and place our order.  I was so proud that both girls of all the kids were the only ones that took off their shoes and placed them in the provided storage area and never taking food into the play area and taking turns.  I thing one of the best ways to see how kids are growing is to watch them play with others and it made my caramel cashew shake taste that much better.

When it was time we head back to the same corner.  The sign turned green but the younger one was too far behind us.  My reaction was to get her and wait for the next light cycle, but the older one wanted to follow my instructions and go with the little green man.  Here comes a car making a right hand turn.  

I forgot to mention that at a corner, you have to look three ways regardless of what the sign might say.

I shouted “Stay there !” with a bit of force.  The driver of the car also heard me as his windows were rolled down, screeched to a halt and gave me the expected dirty look with a hand gesture requesting permission to continue.  My oldest never left the curb but was confused and she complied.  We had a short debate afterward about the green man on the sign means.  I have to admit she had a case.  I didn’t tell her to look three ways first.   I also should not have let my little Pea get so far behind us.  She volunteered to hold my hand the rest of the way home, even passing by the rabbits without pausing.

Had we just jaywalked in the first place it might have been easier to just look two ways.  But I know that is not the right way to teach them and that road also has a “suicide lane”.  I am clearly not ready yet to explain that and in either case it just isn't quite like the quiet road we live on laced with orange warning cones that are commonly laid out by neighbors.

As we walked home, I was distracted by both the surroundings and my own thoughts.  If I was standing in their shoes this whole thing could be quite overwhelming. Sometimes when our kids just do what we say it is exactly what we want, but other times they are just doing what we say.    As adults however we learn to look three or more ways at all times.

How we give our children that skill will make all the difference in their futures.   For now, I am lucky just to get them back safely from the "Ice Cream Store".

Each Moment of Being a Dad is a Lifetime

Kyra is my oldest.  Today she turns five and is preparing to enter Kindergarten.  Just yesterday I was watching her birth. 

The hospital insisted that we stay the night and I couldn’t get enough of fatherhood. I stayed with my little girl in the nursery and they trained me on changing diapers and proper washing.  I had no clue.  I gently wiped the sponge across her like she was a ’67 Mustang knowing my long-time friends were laughing in the background wondering how is the “Stoic Steve” going handle having a daughter.

Did I mention that Kyra is my oldest child and tomorrow she is about to graduate from high school?

One lesson that both my kids have taught me is the importance of practicing the enjoyment of each brief moment with them.  Each one is different but will never happen again exactly the same way but for a Dad, it is hard not to see the whole story all at once.   It is how we are wired to look at things.

Considering that on this present day she is only five years old and while she has developed very quickly from day one she is not ready for the pressures of leadership.   The other day both had just finished their baths.  I got distracted for moment and heard the screen door close.   I ran downstairs and gave chase to find that Kyra had dressed herself and her sister had not but was following her to the park.  It was a moment that had I put on camera I could use against them later in life.   One day I might be the grandparent who can humble them in front of their own kids and this would have done the trick.

In the first moment I was embarrassed that I turned my head for a minute and this whole thing happened, then I worried if the neighbors saw this then in the moment that followed I was proud of my daughters.   It turns out that Kyra was eager to go play with someone who from her looks and demeanor wasn’t too happy.   Kyra wanted to offer her food and toys to play with.  I can’t read more into that than I should, I really don’t know the situation well and I didn’t recognize her new friend.  Alexa just wanted to participate. 

I also know that Kyra is very quick on her feet when it comes to making adjustments to the story.  So I remained objective and on the next to the last moment chose a positive view followed by just laughing at the whole thing.  Then I had a talk Kyra about what happened.    It was my fault they got away from me so I was not mad, but I asked her for help, and in the last moment we reached an understanding.

They are still innocent and their heads are not filled with the complicated stuff adults think about. They are free and generous spirits, Dad’s try to teach them how to make the most of it, preferable with their clothes on.

One day she might read this and understand that on her day of becoming five years old and experiencing a real milestone, I am thinking of how all three of my girls, my wife and two daughters, are so very strong, protective, and wise and that as a teacher by profession I am being schooled by them and it will take a lifetime to get this degree.  However I will not admit this until they are old enough to use Google to find this blog post and read it. 

This could be tomorrow.  

Your Star and My Star - Different...But The Same

Some parents beam proudly at their child’s straight-A report card.  Others brag about their kids’ athletic prowess.  Some parents focus on class rank or their kid running the student council.  All great achievements.  In our house, we’ve got performing arts.

Performing arts, you say?  There is no comparison between my kid scoring the winning touchdown in a state championship game and your kid singing in a musical!

And to anyone who carries that notion, I say, pshaw (“pshaw” being as theatrical a word as I can come up with!! Notice the extra exclamation marks, as well. Very dramatic.)  To that person, I feel confident in guessing they’d never been in a musical production; for if they had, they’d know that what goes into it and what comes out of it are the same elements of that winning football team: hard work, pursuit of excellence, personal bests, teamwork, and a shared vision of success.  Add in artistry and you have a better understanding why I beam for my kids when they’re on stage.

Thirty seconds left in the basketball game, your son’s team down by two.  Your son dribbles the ball down court, finds the open man, and makes a beautiful pass.  Twenty seconds left.  The ball is passed a few more times until the star forward on the team takes a shot.  He misses.  Your son grabs the rebound.  He dribbles forward.  Six seconds left.  The ball is tapped away by the opposition.  Rolling behind the three point line, your son throws himself after the ball.  With three seconds left, he grabs it off the floor, and, in a single motion, shoots the ball straight into the net.  Three! The buzzer goes off and screams of elation fill the stands.  And you sit there, so proud.

In my world, I watch as my son takes the stage.  He moves gracefully in the opening number, as if he were meant to dance.  His voice is strong and he leads his cast mates in a difficult song/dance routine involving three part harmony and tap dance.  As the show moves forward, one of the actor’s microphones cuts out and my son quickly, and in character, figures out way to grab the hand mic at the front of the stage and deliver it to the stranded actor without causing distraction.  The final number involves tumbling, lifts, and leaps off stage, all while singing the vocal equivalent of mountain climbing.  The last note is perfect.  The curtain closes and the crowd is on it feet in appreciation.  And I sit there, so proud.

But as a parent of any athlete knows, the games are the fun part.  The real work happens at practice.  1000 free throws.  Batting practice.  Running the cones.  Running.  And more running.  And then run some more.

In my world, we have classical dance classes and performance rehearsals which are comprised of physical and vocal reps. Stretching.  Vocal scales. Dress rehearsals.  Tech rehearsals.  Getting the routine right.  And doing it again.  And again.  And again.

I’m certain your coach is brilliant.  He knows each players' strengths and areas of growth.  He game plans a strategy like a chess master – seeing three moves ahead of the other guy.  He gets in his players heads, makes them work hard to be better.  He spends individual time with each player, teaching the basics.  He gives them encouragement and plants the seeds of faith that his way is the winning way. 

Our director performs a similar role.  He casts kids into rolls that both fit them and (maybe) stretch them.  His concept is played out on stage every performance.  He coaches the group and individuals within the group.  He is critical when he needs to be, but is gives the all-important encouragement that they need.  He asks them to trust each other and to trust him.  And they do.

Adults who were athletes frequently speak about the gifts they took from the game.  Beyond the physical conditioning, they relate their preparedness in further schooling and work experiences to the structure they learned in sports.  When things aren’t going as planned in life, they have perseverance 

Similarly, performing arts give kids lifelong lessons.  They, too, learn to be prepared and have the discipline to persevere in difficult circumstance because they were able to learn those skills while putting on a production.  The phrase “the show must go on” is truly a mantra among performers.  Further, these kids get experience speaking in front of a live audience, a skill that can be of use in the professional world every single day.  They understand teamwork, having a group goal, and the importance of every single person’s effort in a group. 

But, you say, performers don’t have the competitive edge.  They don’t have the “kill” instinct that pushes athletes to charge ahead full speed.  Athletes, as is the nature of sport, compete.  Performers don’t.

To that sentiment, I ask if you’ve ever seen an open audition session?  Have you witnessed a dance competition?  Have you been to a choral competition?  Forensics tournament?  While an athlete’s challenge is the win the game, the performer’s challenge is to be the best….the best ever…..every time.  Please tell me again how performers lack the competitive spirit.

These thoughts are not meant to take anything away from athletics (or academics or student government, etc.), but rather to promote the incredible experience that is the performing arts.  The next time you think to yourself how “cute” a musical performance at the local middle school or high school might be, please consider if you’d say the same thing about the football game the night before.  “Cute” is a wonderful term…but not for something as tough as performing can be. 

I love what performing has done for my kids.  And I know all the benefits will continue on into adulthood.  I’m so grateful they fell in love with performing and will encourage them for as long as they’re interested.  I guess there is one difference between athletes and performers... generally, there are no foam “we’re number one” fingers sold in the theater.  Maybe there should be.