Day 503: Today's Lesson - How to Kill a Child's Self-Esteem

Today’s Lesson: How to kill a kid’s self-esteem
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Students in Gwinnett County Schools are down to the last 3 days and End-of-Year celebrations are in full-swing. I just returned from attending the celebration for my 3rd grader. On my way out of the building, I asked the Kindergarten teacher if I missed the note or email about their celebration. She informed me that their designated time was between breakfast and lunch last Friday, with lunch being served at 10:30 a.m. Needless to say, the Kindergarten team decided against over-loading kids on food that day, and I do not blame them one bit. The kids were treated to a ‘Game Day’ instead and based on the reports I received from my Kindergarten student, it was pretty fun. But that’s not why I felt compelled to rush home and get this blog written so let me get back on track…

So I am helping the long-term substitute with today’s celebration, i.e., serving the kids, cleaning-up messes, etc. (pretty much the same thing I do at home) when the awards ‘ceremony’ begins. Students received awards for successfully participating in the school-wide Reading program, Perfect Attendance, Testing Achievement, Honor Roll, and Principal’s Honor Roll. Several kids, including my 3rd grader (shameless shout-out), received multiple awards. I will admit that I was a little disappointed deeply offended by the fact that the principal only signed the Principal’s Honor Roll awards. My child and the others who maintained A’s and B’s during the last 9-week grading period worked just as hard as those who made the other list. Before you say,”Well, she probably had a lot of awards to sign,” my response is “Get a damn signature stamp then.’ Besides, the old adage is true: Excuses are like butt holes. Everybody has one and most of them stink. I can remember every award I ever received having the signature of at least one principal on them.

The celebration (partaking of the food) continues and the teacher walks over to me and tells me that one of the students was crying because he didn’t receive any awards. I’m not sure if the parent or common-sense teacher in me took over, but I became really livid at that point. I sat there thinking about this kid, who I had seen struggle with Math during the year, and his disappointment. Then all the research and data began going through my mind, especially because this kid is African American, he’s in 3rd grade, and just took a high-stakes test a few weeks ago. For those of you who don’t know, research shows that states develop their prison plans based on 3rd grade Reading achievement data…interesting. My motherly instinct kicked-in and I went over to him, bent down, and asked:

“Why are you crying?”

Sobbing and wiping tears, he answered “Because I never win anything.”

“It’s o.k. I understand why you are upset and I agree with you. You should be recognized for your efforts. Trust me, you are going to be o.k. Your *teacher knows that you try really hard and she also knows that you have improved this year.”

His parents entered the room a few minutes later and I am sure his dad had the same conversation with him. At least I hope he did. Now I will spend the rest of the afternoon in prayer, asking for some guidance/wisdom/financial blessing so I can give some of these kids what they need most: An opportunity to feel successful. Then I am off to Office Depot to print awards and beg area businesses to donate some certificates for the students.

*The classroom teacher has been gone 2 weeks due to a death in the family. I have no doubt in my mind that she would have given some type of award to every student.

Day 487: Inspiration from Bruce Lee

An excerpt from The Art of Expressing the Human Body by Bruce Lee & John Little:

Bruce had me up to three miles a day, really at a good pace. We'd run the three miles in twenty one or twenty-two minutes. Just under eight minutes a mile [Note: when runing on his own in 1968, Lee would get his time down to six-and-a-half minutes per mile]. So this morning he said to me "We're going to go five." I said, "Bruce, I can't go five. I'm a helluva lot older than you are, and I can't do five." He said, When we get to three, we'll shift gears and it's only two more and you'll do it." I said "Okay, hell, I'll go for it." So we get to three, we go into the fourth mile and I'm okay for three or fout minutes, and then I really begin to give out. I'm tired, my heart's pounding, I can't go any more and so I say to him, "Bruce if I run any more,"-and we're still running-"if I run any more I'm liable to have a heart attack and die."

He said, "Then die." It made me so mad that I went the full five miles. Afterward I went to the shower and then I wanted to talk to him about it. I said, you know; "Why did you say that?" He said, "Because you might as well be dead. Seriously, if you always put limits on what you can do, physical or anything else, it'll spread over into the rest of your life. It'll spread into your work, into your morality, into your entire being. There are no limits. There are plateaus, but you must not stay there, you must go beyond them. If it kills you, it kills you. A man must constantly exceed his level."