When Everyone is a Winner, Everybody is a Loser

 

In a World Where Everyone’s a Winner, the Kids Have Caught On To The Con

By Sasha Mercer Homeschooling Blogger For

The American Refugees

 

In a world where everyone’s a winner, the kids have caught on to the con. I have two children, 10 and 8, and while my husband and I are not those parents that have to have their kid in every sport in every season, attending each sport’s clinic every year since the age of three, you wouldn’t know it by the amount of ribbons and trophies my boys have collected in their short years.  Now to be honest, if it was up to the boys, the majority of those would be in the trash.  Actually, a good portion of what they have accumulated since last year is in the trash, the weird mom side of me that keeps every drawing and every card my little wonders have ever made makes it difficult for me to throw these meaningless pieces of taffeta in the trash.

See, our kids are growing up in the “everyone’s a winner!” age, but the kids have caught on.  All of them, and you can see the proof of this by all of the “blue” ribbons scattered along the floors of the places housing these particular events, whether it be 4-H or a sporting event.  Or they are stuffed in back pockets, crumpled like a test paper that was given a C minus.  Mediocre, nothing to be proud of or hang on the wall, worst yet, everyone got one.  The funny thing of it all is that there still is a winner and a runner up and a third, but to differentiate from the blue ribbons now they are big rosettes but not blue, often they are yellow or purple and that’s what the kids want, forget the participation blue, they want the first place ribbon, whatever color it is.

My youngest came out of the womb competitive.  His dad and I are very laid back, we want to do our best at what we are doing and we both do compete, my husband plays soccer and I show horses, but we don’t throw a fit about losing so we are unsure of where our child got this strange competitive gene.  We are completely fine with it of course.  This is his personality and if he wants to work hard to win, we aren’t going to stop him but we do have repeated talks with him about doing things for the fun of it, to which he resolutely responds “what’s the point of it then?!”   Whether he is showing his rabbit or playing a game of soccer at the park, he wants to win. So this makes the participatory ribbon all that more offensive to him.

He had entered a poster about chickens to our local fair and come judging day we quickly scoured the hall for it.  Upon finding it, I gleefully pointed out that a blue ribbon hung at the corner.  His eyes widened and his face filled with pride, until his eyes found the surrounding posters and his shoulders slumped. “They all have blue ribbons,” he grumbled. Sure enough, he was right.  We discovered the actual winner, a big purple rosette hanging over it. We stepped over to study it and saw that it definitely was worthy of the first placing.  I pointed out the things they had done differently and told my son we needed to remember that for next year’s poster and he agreed.

But it isn’t just the competitive kids that don’t give a rip about these ribbons, my older son, more like his laid back parents, has the same response.  Upon his first 4-H show, he was definitely the novice of the class with a big unruly calf to deal with.  Before any of the actual placings were announced, the judge, a rather bored young twenty something, walked around to all the kids and shoved a blue ribbon in their hands, which quickly got stuffed in pockets or dropped on the way out of the arena.  My son was one of the top three and he came out of the ring with a frown. I assured him that for his first time, and his calf’s first time, they did very well.  “Look bud, you got a blue ribbon,” his grandpa pointed out, not knowing the big scam. “Gramps, everyone gets these.” My dad looked at me quizzically and I shrugged.  Times, have changed dad, apparently you didn’t get the memo that you are a completely screwed up human being because as a kid you use to walk out of sporting events as a (gasp) loser with no ribbon!

Just to really bore you, in case you are blessed to be in an area where kids are allowed to leave an event without a twenty five cent ribbon to remind them that they are good enough, smart enough, and gosh darn it, people like them, I have another story of politically correct-self-esteem-is-more-important-than wisdom-and-knowledge gone wild.  There was a community event put on over the summer in my city to encourage fitness, or at least that’s what the brochure said.  They had track and field events for all ages; shot put, high jump, javelin throwing, all events that my kids had never participated in so they were over the moon excited.  I paid our entry fee and we began our line standing for each event. One event in particular, some sort of foot race that I hadn’t paid attention to the details of, really excited my son.  He came in second the first go round and a green participatory ribbon, that even said “participant,” was shoved in his hand. He quickly ran to get back in line. “ Mom, that was great!” But his bubble was quickly burst when the women handling the race recognized him. “No, you already got a ribbon, you can’t do it again.”  “But I don’t want another ribbon, I just want to run, you don’t have to give me another ribbon.”  She looked confused, she had been thrown off her script and she quickly conferred with another staff member who confirmed that no, he couldn’t run again.  “But I just want to run, you don’t have to keep track of my name, I just want to beat my time.”  He pleaded and I stood back, let them tell a child no, in this event to encourage kids to stay active over the summer, let them make the case to him.  Nope, he couldn’t run.  Sure, there was no line of kids waiting, but apparently the point was to get that ribbon in his hand. They didn’t quite know what to do with a kid that wanted to run just for the sake of running.

Last week I was packing some boxes and came across the inspiration for the topic, a twenty year old, dusty, but not in the least bit crumpled, pink 6th place ribbon.  It brought a huge smile to my face and I remembered the exact day and class I had earned it in on my horse.  It was the only ribbon we had ever earned, in 4-H or anything else, and after a long day of class after class, with my horse continuously embarrassing me as he bolted and attempted to run off, or just plain refused to do something, and again and we placed 7th, 8th, sometimes so low that they didn’t even announce a placing.  Yet finally, in the last class of the day, my heart about leapt out of my throat as we finally placed.  Sixth was the last placing that earned a ribbon but we walked away with it.  As an adult, I have earned a lot of ribbons on my current horse, not participant, but actually earned; blues, reds, high points. I am proud of all the work and time that they represent but not so much as that sixth place.  I am sad that my kids will not have that moment.  As a kid I had dreamed of decorating my walls with ribbons, but all I ever had was one.  Now my kids could easily cover their walls with the ribbons they have accumulated but only a couple have any meaning to them, and they aren’t blue. 

I hope that this generation of kids will grow up and recall the ridiculousness of these participant ribbons and trophies and go back to recognizing hard work instead of just showing up, but in our world of entitlements, earned income tax “credits” and paying kids to go to school, something tells me my hopes will not come to fruition.