Giving Every Kid a Trophy

[Direckshun]

Figured this is the quintessential CP topic.

Participation trophies for children: agree or disagree?

http://thenewinquiry.com/essays/trophy-season/

Trophy Season
By MOLLY KNEFEL

Despite what you’ve heard, not every kid gets a trophy. But why not?

The end of the school year is awards season, when students of all ages are herded into auditoriums and cafeterias and cafetoriums to sit and listen to adults read off the accomplishments of a select few classmates. Sometimes the crowd is instructed to hold their applause until all the recipients have received their award, and if they forget, they are told, sternly, not to clap yet. By the end, every hand in the room hurts, and the kids who get their awards last get hardly any applause. The winners take beaming pictures with their certificates.

I recently attended one such elementary school award ceremony. The children, who are students of mine, cheered for each other. Everyone seemed to have a great time, and afterwards, kids were leaping out of their seats to give speeches to the crowd about the year’s end. Fifth graders expressed appreciation for their teachers; a first grader told a joke. A kindergartner (who had won several awards) took the microphone, turned to his classmates, and shyly announced: “If you didn’t get an award… don’t cry.”

I’m with him. I worry about the kids who don’t win. Because — and I can report this first-hand — not everyone gets a trophy. If there’s one thing that young people are told when there are trophies to be had, it’s that not everybody should get one. Millennials have been told it’s the thing that ruined our generation, and the ones after us, and the ones today. Adults have very strong feelings about kids’ feelings about trophies.

***

Before I spent any time with J, the only thing I knew about him was that he punched people with relative frequency. On his teacher’s very first day at the after-school program, J punched him. I’d see adults swoop towards him from across the cafeteria or the playground to separate him from whomever he had just punched. These incidents, along with J’s gravely serious, rarely smiling face, gave me the impression that J was bad.

So when J was on my class list for the improv comedy class that I taught on Fridays, I went in braced for a bad kid. We played a game called “Interesting Connection,” where I name two random objects and the kids have to make up a fictional narrative about how they’re connected. Usually it went something like: “What’s the interesting connection between cupcakes and pencils?” and the kids, third through fifth graders, would say something extremely silly, like “A man named Mr. Cupcake was friends with a man named Mr. Pencil and they both invented cupcakes and pencils and that’s the interesting connection.” And then I would tell them to try a little harder.

J was given the objects “Dinosaurs” and “jewelry.” He began, “There’s an interesting connection between dinosaurs and jewelry.” Dinosaurs are ancestrally related to birds, he reminded us. And so, like birds, they made nests. They would weave together twigs and rocks to make their nests, just like birds do. J was so focused it was as if he was at a spelling bee. Because dinosaurs had sharp claws, their feet would wear down the stones they used to make their nests until they were smooth and shiny. And the smooth, shiny stones would be all woven in between long threads of twigs. It was kind of like a necklace, J explained. And that’s how dinosaurs created jewelry.

So I thought that J was bad at not punching people, but it turned out he was quite good at making up an incredibly beautiful connection between dinosaurs and jewelry. And he was good at all the other acting and comedy games we played, too.

This was a wonderful thing for J to teach me, because it’s a perfectly natural thing to see a person who’s punching people and assume that person is kind of a jerk. As a teacher I know, pedagogically, of the extremely important difference between a child’s behavior and the child themselves. I know to never, ever say “You are bad” to a kid, but “Your behavior is currently [too punchy] [too disruptive] [too disrespectful].”

The idea of separating judgement of a person’s behavior from their essence as a person is probably something that should be applied to all ages, but is especially important for very young people. They are new enough to the world that whatever negative thing it is that they’re doing is also relatively new to them. A person who’s been alive for a decade, during which they’ve punched a few people, is significantly different than a person who’s been alive for two, three, or four decades and has spent them all punching people. This is one of the reasons why children shouldn’t be treated the way adults are in the criminal justice system. Of course adults shouldn’t be treated the way adults are in the criminal justice system either.

The worst thing is that, if the adults in a child like J’s life tell him: “You are a person who punches people,” he may very well keep punching people into his second decade, because that’s the thing he’s been recognized for. That’s why it’s important to instead say: “J, you are currently punching people, and you need to stop.” Or, even better, to say: “J, why are you punching people?”

J is much older now, and back then I didn’t know to ask him that question. But I know another boy who’s about his age now, M. He’s incredibly smart and well-behaved, but has always been mysteriously dissatisfied. He talks about hating school even as he enthusiastically participates– his behavior is at odds with itself. He recently told me a story about when he was suspended as a first grader. A bunch of boys were fighting, he says, and he was trying to help (some people may think a 10-year-old is an unreliable narrator when it comes to their own guilt, but I trust M). The adults thought he was part of the fight, and wouldn’t listen to his explanation of what happened, and all the kids involved were suspended. He had to miss class. He didn’t understand anything that was going on once he came back. I had asked M whether he thought suspensions were effective in terms of changing kids behavior. After telling me this story, he said that his answer was yes: “I was already a good kid,” he told me. “But when I came back, I wanted to be a bad kid.”

M has not quite succeeded, in my eyes, at being bad. But I understand why he tries. On the last day of school he said, with a big smile on his face, “I won’t miss this place!” We hugged before he left.

***

The year that J told me about how dinosaurs created jewelry, I got to nominate students for the awards ceremony. Since I teach theater, I was supposed to nominate kids who were especially good actors. The thing about recognizing kids that are really good at things is that the ones who stand out often stand out in many ways– Best Actor, Future Leader, Class Role Model, and so on. I was lucky though, because J was among the best comedic actors I taught, and was also a kid who was unlikely to win any awards for good behavior or leadership or stellar academics. So J got the award.

The word “disbelief” does not do justice to the look of surprise on J’s face when he heard his name announced at the awards ceremony. In comedy, J used his gravely serious face to his advantage– he became the master of deadpan, cracking up his classmates and teachers and never even letting a smile slip when people said how funny he was. After he was handed his award, J walked like a zombie back to his seat and stared at it. I wish I remember anything he said, but I only see his stunned face. When his mom came at the end of the day to pick him up, he showed it to her as she put his arm around him and they walked out of the building.

Not everyone gets a trophy. But it’s so cool to get a trophy. Why can’t everyone get one?

***

The disgust that so many adults feel at the idea of everyone getting a trophy has to do with creating incentives. If everyone gets a trophy then no one will try hard; if everyone gets basic food and housing to survive, then no one will work. Of course, this isn’t true. A soccer team full of 10-year-olds who all get participation trophies won’t all sit down and stop playing soccer– the kids who are good at scoring points will still want to do so. But the kid who never scored a point will, for a moment, be recognized: You played soccer too.

Instead, that kid is supposed to get the message: If you didn’t score a lot of points, no one gives a shit about you. And if that makes you sad, or if you feel that it’s not fair, get used to it. The world is a sad and unfair place. Score more goals next time. This message has always felt at odds, to me, with the equally ubiquitous platitude that children are the future. If children are the future, then why are we so gung ho about preparing them to be treated unfairly?

***

After the awards ceremony where the kindergartner gave his inspirational reassurance to the other kindergartners, I sat with two fourth graders as they waited for their parents to pick them up. One had won an award– “Most Improved,” and the other hadn’t won anything.

The boy who had won was very proud. He said that he really did feel that he had improved a lot over the course of the year. The other boy said that he wished he had won something.

“I would give you the award for most athletic,” I told him, which was true. Even if he can be a bit of a ball hog, he’s good at every sport I’ve seen him try. He grinned and flexed his muscles.

Most Improved’s dad came to pick him up. He showed off his certificate, and they walked out together.

[CoMoChief]

Originally Posted by LoneWolf

Funny story that is sort of related:

Last year was my nephew's first year of playing baseball. He was 6 years old and he called me to make sure I was going to be at his first game. My nephew is one of the better athletes in his class (meaning he can catch and throw and looks like he has an idea of what he is doing out there). I show up for the game and he comes over to let me know he is playing first base. I wish him luck and find a seat close to first base.

The game starts and his team is in the field first. Now this is not a great display of baseball. There are ground balls between fielders legs, overthrows and under throws, and just general chaos, but in the first 6 batters my nephew's team manages to record 2 outs. Seventh batter comes up, this is t-ball mind you, and he hits a slow grounder right at my nephew. He fields the grounder, steps on first, rolls the ball towards the pitcher's circle, and starts running to the dugout. When he reaches the dugout, his coach stops him and tells him that he needs to go back out to first base. My nephew tells him, "Coach that was three outs. It is our turn to bat now." To his surprise and mine, the coach tells him that the opposing team's turn to bat isn't over until every member of their team has had a chance to bat. My nephew looks at the coach dumbfounded and then he turns to look at me and his father in the stands. We both shrug our shoulders and tell him he should listen to the coach. To our surprise, he takes off his baseball cap, exits the dugout, and walks directly to the stands where his father and I are sitting. He looks at his Dad and says, "Dad, I'll come back and play when they start playing real baseball." His Dad is a little embarrassed, but he gets up, walks over to the dugout and tells the coach his son will not be playing anymore this season, and we leave.

I've never been prouder of one of my nieces or nephews.

Good for them!!!

That "let everyone have a chance" crap is for little kid sports like soccer

[mikey23545]

Hell, this idea could be a great way for people to win a Nobel peace prize, or elective office or something...

[InChiefsHeaven]

Originally Posted by mikey23545

Hell, this idea could be a great way for people to win a Nobel peace prize, or elective office or something...

[InChiefsHeaven]

I coached football for a few years. 8 to 12 year olds, depending on the season. Every year, we as coaches were expected to get friggin' trophies for all the kids. I have no problem with participation certificates, but I've always thought of trophies as something you really had to perform to get. I hated that we did that, but the parents kind of expected it.

Hell, my sister's kid was in Karate, and she had literally boxes full of trophies...and she didn't win that much lemme tell ya. It winds up being junk that you don't want to throw away, because it's supposed to mean something, but it really doesn't.

I still have my Championship trophy from 1977, my first year in t-ball. I remember it well, and I have it in my footlocker, but it actually means something to me. It was a great season and when we won the championship game (3 outs per team by the way, none of this "everyone gets to bat" BS) it was a big deal.

I guess things have just changed a lot in the last 30 years.

[stonedstooge]

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Still proudly displayed in my house

[Nzoner]

Originally Posted by LoneWolf

Funny story that is sort of related:

Last year was my nephew's first year of playing baseball. He was 6 years old and he called me to make sure I was going to be at his first game. My nephew is one of the better athletes in his class (meaning he can catch and throw and looks like he has an idea of what he is doing out there). I show up for the game and he comes over to let me know he is playing first base. I wish him luck and find a seat close to first base.

The game starts and his team is in the field first. Now this is not a great display of baseball. There are ground balls between fielders legs, overthrows and under throws, and just general chaos, but in the first 6 batters my nephew's team manages to record 2 outs. Seventh batter comes up, this is t-ball mind you, and he hits a slow grounder right at my nephew. He fields the grounder, steps on first, rolls the ball towards the pitcher's circle, and starts running to the dugout. When he reaches the dugout, his coach stops him and tells him that he needs to go back out to first base. My nephew tells him, "Coach that was three outs. It is our turn to bat now." To his surprise and mine, the coach tells him that the opposing team's turn to bat isn't over until every member of their team has had a chance to bat. My nephew looks at the coach dumbfounded and then he turns to look at me and his father in the stands. We both shrug our shoulders and tell him he should listen to the coach. To our surprise, he takes off his baseball cap, exits the dugout, and walks directly to the stands where his father and I are sitting. He looks at his Dad and says, "Dad, I'll come back and play when they start playing real baseball." His Dad is a little embarrassed, but he gets up, walks over to the dugout and tells the coach his son will not be playing anymore this season, and we leave.

I've never been prouder of one of my nieces or nephews.

Awesome story,hell I'm proud of the kid as well.

[Valiant]

Originally Posted by Rain Man

I have no doubt about that. But they get an extra medal and trophy, so screw them.

Some strong runner wrote an article a while back (can't remember if it was a mainstream newspaper or a running mag), that basically blasted the slower runners. He said that it was shameful to have a time over 5 hours or so in a marathon and that you're not really "running a marathon" at that pace. He said that it cheapened the accomplishment and that he hated the fact that those slow people got t-shirts that they wore. He proposed that perhaps you shouldn't be allowed to run a marathon unless you were faster than some particular pace.

He generated a lot of letters to the editor.

The article in the OP does bring up a good point about what motivates people. Is it internal or external? Should you reward only the best to motivate others to try to beat them, or should you reward people doing the best that they can?

I know as a runner that I'm never going to be in the elite group. If there's a race of 300 people, I'm not going to finish in the top three. Never. I could take a year off work, hire a coach and dietician, and work my rear off, and I'll never finish in the top three. I don't have the natural talent to reach the top. So seeing those top people get medals doesn't motivate me at all. They're martians in my world. What motivates me is a) finishing, and b) doing better than I've done before.

So from that standpoint, I really shouldn't care about getting a "finisher's medal" and a t-shirt. They shouldn't motivate me. But for some reason they do motivate me. I like getting them and they make me kind of proud that I'm out there working to get better.

I think you want to give rewards and recognition to the winners, but I guess I'm not averse to giving something to others who may be working hard, but they don't have the raw talent that leverages working hard. They're two different types of achievement.

What I think would be cool at a race would be to give awards to people who set a new personal record in the race. The more I think about it, that would be an awesome marketing tool, and people would eat it up.

He has a point.. But then that is why they have divisions at the same race..

They have the lower divisions to generate money. He is right, some of these people that participate should not, but hey they are not going to turn down money.

People pay for their tshirt and small medal, part of the money. Actually doing good gets you a greater reward or medal if you will.

[Fairplay]

Originally Posted by CoMoChief

Giving everyone a trophy is good up until about 7-8yrs old IMO.

At that point (in sports) it's important that the kids learn the meaning of competition and what winning means and the rewards that come with it. And on the flip side they need to know what losing feels like too.

We don't want to offend the sensitive kids.

[Nzoner]

I think Molly never got a trophy growing up.

[BigCatDaddy]

I tell you what. All those trophies you won playing little league baseball are going to impress the hell out of a potential employer some day .

I get the point but I'm not sure in grand scheme of things it makes much difference either way.

[KCUnited]

My inlaws spent the weekend with us a couple weeks ago. We thought it was because we hadn't seen them in awhile, but apparently it was so they could drop off boxes of shit from my wife's childhood. One box was nothing but trophies and we were literally standing there going WTF are we going to do with all this shit. Fortunately, there seems to be a market for retro trophies on ebay.

People need to think down the road a bit before they start handing out a bunch of crap.

[Nzoner]

Originally Posted by BigCatDaddy

I tell you what. All those trophies you won playing little league baseball are going to impress the hell out of a potential employer some day .

I get the point but I'm not sure in grand scheme of things it makes much difference either way.

Personally I won a lot of little league trophies and what it taught me in the grand scheme was that not everyone in life wins,you work had to accomplish something and you get rewarded.

[Katipan]

I think it makes an extraordinary immediate impact. Quit giving kids stuff they don't deserve. They all have to attend birthday parties where one kid gets all the glory. They really can grasp the concept that they don't automatically get shit.

They can even be taught to find joy celebrating an individual team mate's uber success.

[BigCatDaddy]

Originally Posted by Nzoner

Personally I won a lot of little league trophies and what it taught me in the grand scheme was that not everyone in life wins,you work had to accomplish something and you get rewarded.

I won a lot as well and it taught me that kids that mature quickly are better at things that kids that don't mature quite as quick. I've just seen a lot of kids/people that basically peaked in high school just because they had some natural athletic ability and never had to work hard. Now they work in a factory talking of their glory days and what might have been. Winning is cool but you have to be careful building a kids world and identity around that or they will be ****ed once high school or college is over.

[Bearcat]

Originally Posted by BigCatDaddy

I get the point but I'm not sure in grand scheme of things it makes much difference either way.

Yeah, I'm sure there are special cases where it would make a difference to a kid who lacks any confidence or whatever, but for the most part, it doesn't seem like it would matter much at all, at least in sports.

I remember getting trophies in t-ball when I was about 5 or 6... couldn't tell you what they were for, but they were cool at the time. I remember getting trophies when I was ~8-10 and older, and by that time we knew what place we were in throughout the season, we knew which teams were good, etc. Trophies were only handed out to the 1st place team... we weren't scarred for life when we didn't get one and I doubt a participation trophy would have been much of a consolation prize. It's not like one moment at the end of the summer defines the summer... we knew we were good or that we sucked long before the end of the season.