Do we do our kids a disservice when we tell them it doesn’t matter if you win or lose?
Last weekend, Amelia’s softball team lost their first game of the season by a lot (final score 14-2). Hubby came home from the game in a funk, riddled with guilt and self-blame for not practicing more with her in the off-season. But Amelia seemed unbothered; in fact, she shrugged and told us that she had fun during the game, her teammates were nice, and she was just happy to get snacks at the end. “Besides,” she said, “it’s not about winning or losing, we’re just there to have fun.”
Um…excuse me? I mean, yes, that is true, but technically speaking, when you’re playing a sport, you’re playing to win, right? Menzies and I looked at each other with disbelief. And that’s when we realized that our daughter was just echoing the same sentiment that we have been drilling into her all her life.
Since before I can remember, we have repeatedly told both of our kids, “It’s not about whether you win or lose; it’s about having fun and learning how to play the game.” Starting from board game nights at home and continuing through seasons of Lil kickers soccer, martial arts sparring, and especially now for contentious foursquare games at recess, we have emphasized cooperation, effort, and above all, having a good attitude. We tell them we are proud of them no matter the outcome, as long as they do their best. It hasn’t been easy, teaching them to “be a good sport.” As young kids, they would gloat and bask obnoxiously after winning, or alternatively, pout and throw tantrums after losing. Sometimes they would quit if they fell behind, rather than suffer the pain of losing. As they got older, they learned to set this behavior aside, and we patted ourselves on the back for raising such mature kids able to manage their emotions.
Yet, now that our daughter is on the cusp of being a tween, we balk at her docile, uncompetitive attitude towards life. We wonder why she seems to lack competitive drive, with little desire to practice skills to help her team win their next games. Did we extinguish her competitive fire when we told her that losing was as important as winning? Have we handicapped her by not pushing her more, not allowing her to excel at something and fully experience the thrill of victory?
My husband and I are both competitive by nature. As kids, we channeled this energy differently, him into sports and me into academic pursuits. For most of my childhood and well into my teenage years, I focused on earning accolades and trophies, in an effort to give my immigrant parents what I thought they needed from me. These days I struggle with this competitive “striver” quality, most often directing it inwards into self-improvement pursuits. If I’m being honest, this quality is likely what Menzies and I first recognized in each other. But when it comes to our kids, we have tried to emphasize inherent self-worth that is uncoupled from external measures of success.
So, what now? What do we say to Amelia as the world around her gets more competitive in middle school, high school, and beyond? I want her to experience the feeling of pouring her heart and energy into something that matters deeply to her. Naturally, I also want all that hard work to be validated in some external way, whether it’s a nailing a performance, winning a game, or achieving some big goal. Of course, I can’t engineer this outcome for her. However, I can admit that I have spent much of my own life chasing this very same outcome for myself. I know the high of winning is addictive and powerful, even if it’s elusive and fleeting. It’s time for me to stop downplaying it to my kids in an effort to protect their hearts if they fail. It’s time to let them get in the arena, take the shot, and experience the glory and the heartbreak. It’s time for me to step back and let them feel all of it.