Other Sports Giving Every Kid a Trophy - Page 8

Direckshun · 07-30-2014, 09:51 AM

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.

InChiefsHeaven · 07-31-2014, 07:40 AM

Quote:

Originally Posted by 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.

I knew a gal who would buy birthday presents for her birthday kid...and one present for her other kid...so they wouldn't feel left out.

holy shit...

Eleazar · 07-31-2014, 07:43 AM

If everyone gets a trophy, the trophies have no value.

**Iowanian** · 07-31-2014, 07:46 AM

I disagree a little bit.

I coach and have coached Tball and coach pitch level ball.

At this level it is about teaching fundamentals. I take a very positive approach, including letting kids on other teams know when they've done a good job or made good effort. Every kid getting a cut gives them 2-3 at bats each game, and each kid hitting puts 10 balls in play so that the other team gets more chances to learn what they're doing in the field. We see so much progress in ability from game 1-the last game that I see the value.

There is plenty of time for the competitive ball.

We start Tball with preschoolers, and there are no outs. The kindergarden level they do start counting outs so that the kids in the field get reward for good play and then they move up to coach pitch for 2 years where there are points and outs.

It's a process that is designed for the young kids to have fun, everyone plays and you're building skills with the ultimate goal to build competitive teams at the older school levels.

Quote:

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.

**Nzoner** · 07-31-2014, 07:47 AM

Quote:

Originally Posted by BigCatDaddy

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.

I totally see your point on the athletic ability and agree.I also believe though that whether it's athletics,school grades,special projects/contests that their needs to be winners and losers because it teaches one that you are not entitled to shit unless you work for it.

BigCatDaddy · 07-31-2014, 07:55 AM

Quote:

Originally Posted by Nzoner

I totally see your point on the athletic ability and agree.I also believe though that whether it's athletics,school grades,special projects/contests that their needs to be winners and losers because it teaches one that you are not entitled to shit unless you work for it.

I get that as well. The older I get the more I understand nature wins out in the end and people are going to be who or what they are. You can sculpt a little bit but I think if someone is driven they are driven if they get a participation trophy or not.

**Fire Me Boy!** · 07-31-2014, 08:05 AM

I say winners get a trophy and a Totino's pizza of their choice. Losers just get the pizza.

BigCatDaddy · 07-31-2014, 08:18 AM

Quote:

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.

Getting a trophy teaches kids life lessons but CP is proud of a kid that quits on the team because he didn't like the rules of the league he signed up for. If you love the game you love to hit field and throw especially at 6 years old. Quitting because he didn't like the game wasn't played the way he wanted isn't good brother.

**Bearcat** · 07-31-2014, 08:25 AM

Quote:

Originally Posted by Nzoner

I totally see your point on the athletic ability and agree.I also believe though that whether it's athletics,school grades,special projects/contests that their needs to be winners and losers because it teaches one that you are not entitled to shit unless you work for it.

I don't think the argument is really about teaching kids they have to work for recognition, but about the kids who do try really hard and don't get recognized. If you suck at baseball, I think you know you suck at baseball, so a trophy isn't really going to matter much... find a different sport.

But, if you're 8 and you try really hard one year to get your grades up and the best you can do is low Bs and Cs, I'd think not being recognized could have a pretty negative impact, especially if you have siblings or friends who get recognized for their As (even if they don't have to really try at it). Ok, so you're not going to be a brain surgeon, but maybe some recognition for the effort helps the kid stay focused so he doesn't waste the next 10 years reaching for Ds.

**LoneWolf** · 07-31-2014, 08:39 AM

Quote:

Originally Posted by BigCatDaddy

Getting a trophy teaches kids life lessons but CP is proud of a kid that quits on the team because he didn't like the rules of the league he signed up for. If you love the game you love to hit field and throw especially at 6 years old. Quitting because he didn't like the game wasn't played the way he wanted isn't good brother.

It took a lot of courage for him to do what he did and he didn't do it in a throwing a tantrum way. He had a lot of friends on the team and to leave that based on what in his mind were his principles of how the game is meant to be played took a lot of guts. He was very calm through the entire ordeal and never argued with the coach after being told that the outs didn't count. Neither he or his parents were made aware of the particular rules of the league before this first game. If they had been, they probably wouldn't have signed up.

I would normally agree with you about quitting, but this wasn't the game he thought/wanted to sign up for. It would be like signing up to play football thinking you are going to be wearing a helmet and pads and getting to hit people, and then showing up to practice where they hand you a set of flags to wear.

This year his Dad found a competitive league in Wichita and his son played machine pitch ball where they actually kept score and declared a winner at the end of the game. He loved it.

**LoneWolf** · 07-31-2014, 08:42 AM

Quote:

Originally Posted by Bearcat

I don't think the argument is really about teaching kids they have to work for recognition, but about the kids who do try really hard and don't get recognized. If you suck at baseball, I think you know you suck at baseball, so a trophy isn't really going to matter much... find a different sport.

But, if you're 8 and you try really hard one year to get your grades up and the best you can do is low Bs and Cs, I'd think not being recognized could have a pretty negative impact, especially if you have siblings or friends who get recognized for their As (even if they don't have to really try at it). Ok, so you're not going to be a brain surgeon, but maybe some recognition for the effort helps the kid stay focused so he doesn't waste the next 10 years reaching for Ds.

If a kid works hard to improve their grades, that recognition should first and foremost come from the child's parents. Praise from your parents always means more than from somebody else.

BigCatDaddy · 07-31-2014, 08:44 AM

Quote:

Originally Posted by LoneWolf

It took a lot of courage for him to do what he did and he didn't do it in a throwing a tantrum way. He had a lot of friends on the team and to leave that based on what in his mind were his principles of how the game is meant to be played took a lot of guts. He was very calm through the entire ordeal and never argued with the coach after being told that the outs didn't count. Neither he or his parents were made aware of the particular rules of the league before this first game. If they had been, they probably wouldn't have signed up.

I would normally agree with you about quitting, but this wasn't the game he thought/wanted to sign up for. It would be like signing up to play football thinking you are going to be wearing a helmet and pads and getting to hit people, and then showing up to practice where they hand you a set of flags to wear.

This year his Dad found a competitive league in Wichita and his son played machine pitch ball where they actually kept score and declared a winner at the end of the game. He loved it.

That's good. I've just seen those kids that quit because they don't play SS or bat cleanup or have to play TE instead of RB or don't get enough shots in basketball. If that's not going to be him someday that's cool but I wouldn't have let him quit or be proud of the fact that he did(especially if it was in the middle of a game) for that reason. Quitting is such a nasty habit... If you feel justified or not.

**LoneWolf** · 07-31-2014, 08:47 AM

Quote:

Originally Posted by Iowanian

I disagree a little bit.

I coach and have coached Tball and coach pitch level ball.

At this level it is about teaching fundamentals. I take a very positive approach, including letting kids on other teams know when they've done a good job or made good effort. Every kid getting a cut gives them 2-3 at bats each game, and each kid hitting puts 10 balls in play so that the other team gets more chances to learn what they're doing in the field. We see so much progress in ability from game 1-the last game that I see the value.

There is plenty of time for the competitive ball.

We start Tball with preschoolers, and there are no outs. The kindergarden level they do start counting outs so that the kids in the field get reward for good play and then they move up to coach pitch for 2 years where there are points and outs.

It's a process that is designed for the young kids to have fun, everyone plays and you're building skills with the ultimate goal to build competitive teams at the older school levels.

For me, practice is where you teach kids fundamentals and the games are where they should learn how to use those fundamentals in a competitive setting. I applaud anyone who can coach a team of preschoolers and kindergarten age children. That takes a level of patience I'm not sure I posses.

blaise · 07-31-2014, 08:52 AM

In youth sports there are kids on teams that lose almost every game that deserve recognition more than some kids on teams that win them all. Especially in soccer. I've seen teams that win all their games and it's basically a one or two man show. One kid will be light years ahead of everyone else on the field, he does all the scoring, and his teammates don't do anything, really. I've seen teams where the coach just yells at kids, "Pass to Johnny. Throw it to Johnny," as soon as they touch the ball. After he gets it they're just bystanders. You can see in their faces they stop caring after a while.

Then some teams the kids battle and fight but they're just not talented. SO they lose most games.
They don't compete for a trophy, they compete because they want to and they want to win. The trophy at the end of the year is more to say, "Thanks for busting your ass all year."

Katipan · 07-31-2014, 09:00 AM

What a pity that you have to thank them with gifts for doing the right thing.

blaise · 07-31-2014, 09:02 AM

Quote:

Originally Posted by Katipan

What a pity that you have to thank them with gifts for doing the right thing.

You don't have to. Just like you don't have to send a thank you card to someone that gives you a gift.

07-30-2014, 09:51 AM
Direckshun __ Join Date: Oct 2006 Location: Springpatch Casino cash: $4313447	Giving Every Kid a Trophy 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.
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07-31-2014, 07:43 AM	#107
Eleazar Beyond the Rapids Join Date: May 2003 Location: Langley, VA Casino cash: $-370000	If everyone gets a trophy, the trophies have no value.
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07-31-2014, 08:05 AM	#111
Fire Me Boy! Cast Iron Jedi Join Date: Nov 2004 Casino cash: $9999900 VARSITY	I say winners get a trophy and a Totino's pizza of their choice. Losers just get the pizza.
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07-31-2014, 08:52 AM	#118
blaise In Search of a Life Join Date: Aug 2007 Location: Plano, TX Casino cash: $9999900	In youth sports there are kids on teams that lose almost every game that deserve recognition more than some kids on teams that win them all. Especially in soccer. I've seen teams that win all their games and it's basically a one or two man show. One kid will be light years ahead of everyone else on the field, he does all the scoring, and his teammates don't do anything, really. I've seen teams where the coach just yells at kids, "Pass to Johnny. Throw it to Johnny," as soon as they touch the ball. After he gets it they're just bystanders. You can see in their faces they stop caring after a while. Then some teams the kids battle and fight but they're just not talented. SO they lose most games. They don't compete for a trophy, they compete because they want to and they want to win. The trophy at the end of the year is more to say, "Thanks for busting your ass all year."
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07-31-2014, 09:00 AM	#119
Katipan MER Join Date: Oct 2003 Location: Colorado Casino cash: $2720351	What a pity that you have to thank them with gifts for doing the right thing. __________________ "Loving him is red."
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