Check out this video before reading this post, please.
http://www.goodnewsnetwork.org/family-life/camera-shows-dad-wailing-with-joy-at-sons-math-grade.html
If you read the text along with it, you'll see that the boy taping it was failing math a year ago, and has just passed it . . . forever. He seems ecstatic, probably to be done with math, but also to tell his dad.
He looks to be an age where stereotypically, kids are supposed to flee from their parents, and boys are supposed to be macho. Yet, he has an exuberant smile, sets up a camera, and basks in the emotional response of his father. He enthusiastically returns the hugs (did he initiate the one when his dad first starts crying?) and allows his head to be kissed. Judging by his expression ending the video, I'm guessing he intends to revel in his father's joy over and over again.
I watched it twice. I'm still teared up. I might have to watch it a third time right now to answer my own question. As I watch, I experience it differently from the boy.
As a parent, I see palpable relief and pride in the father's reaction. He goes from excitement, to release of tension, to pride and love for his son . . . and on to a more subdued recapitulation of the whole experience. It is over. All of the hard work is done. It paid off. All of the worry about the emotions and journey of his child is over, at least for this particular subject. Isn't that parenting? "You're set for life," he tells his son.
In a matter of months, I lost count of how many people told us that educating our daughter must be easy. The assumption was that being gifted is as simple as being smart. Along with that go the assumptions that the gifted are quick to learn, quick to read, early in everything they do and high achievers. Let me attest to the fact that gifted children are just as complicated as the rest of the population. They fail things. They struggle. They have to work hard. All of the difficult things that can happen to other children, can happen to gifted kids. If you don't believe me, do an online search for nobel prize winners that struggled in school.
Our personal experience has been a mix of easy and hard, just like the rest of the population. It took me only a few weeks to give up trying to explain this to people. Instead, I got flabbergasted expressions when I simply answered a straightforward and straight-faced, "No, it's not." With people I trust, and in the privacy of solitude, I would rage at the ridiculousness of anyone having the impertinence to not only assume, but state boldly, "that must be easy." I've gained a small degree of calm on this topic over the years, and now believe that these people must see the world as black and white. While I sometimes think "ignorance is bliss" with wistfulness, I would not give up the gorgeous color and texture of our complex world for that delusion of simplicity. If that means I'm guilty of snobbery, calling people ignorant, so be it. They certainly are ignorant of our situation. I think it as likely that I'm guilty of bitterness and the anger that can come with that.
I have seen my daughter get as excited as the boy in that link. She has done so many amazing things in her few years. However, the things that really get her excited like that are not often the ones that have a lot of pomp and circumstance. The biggest joy that our family experiences is in moments like those in that video. They are the moments where we have accomplished something hard-won. The tears of relief and joy my husband and I cry with our daughter are reminiscent of the tears we secretly cried during the struggle and hard work, except that those tears were hidden from her most of the time.
I want to make sure you catch this. The boy got a C.
He and his father set a reasonable goal, made it, and both guys were emotional about that. How many parents would get mad about the fail? How many kids and parents would say, "Do the best you can," or "Aim for a B," or any number of other things that might be less . . . . what word to use? I think I like leaving it at less. This dad said "If you can get a C, you can do anything." That's a cool dad. He inspires me to be a better parent. That man is inspiring so many people with his loving reaction to a C, gone viral via his son's recording.
Growing up, I was very much an overachiever. However, I cannot ever remember my parents getting that excited. It wasn't that they didn't care, but they would never have reacted like the father in the video. I'm not sure if I could throw off my reserve enough to be that cool, either. However, my husband is, and I am learning.
It reminds me of another article that I read recently about the importance and power of saying, "I love to watch you _____." Those are powerful words, and I'm intentionally including them in my parenting. Maybe it's a homeschooling by-product, but teaching and correcting come all too easily. Instead, I'm intentionally saying, "I love to see you having fun." Taking the performance out of it clears the path for happiness and simply enjoying the experience.
My daughter is teaching me enthusiasm and encouragement, as well. She gets more excited for me than I do for myself, and that is a beautiful thing. It's also a parallel. I sometimes think my reaction to her getting past a hurtle is bigger than hers, at least inside. We are teaching each other.
I hope that we will continue to share the richness of life as this father and son appear to. And yes, we celebrate C's. She is no more or less gifted because of a label in the form of a grade. Besdies, my high grades did little for me over the long run. They are not currency for happiness, and they were not required for the goals that make me happy. If you need grades and degrees to achieve your goals, and those goals make you happy, work for those grades! In my case, they were like a cheap pastic trophy - you know the kind, where the screw won't even get tight enough to keep the metallic-painted person facing forward. That kind of award makes us try and remember why we wanted it so badly, and it demotivates as opposed to motivates our future endeavors.
I won't say that I wish struggles on you. However, you will and do have them. So, I will hope that your experiences following the struggles are as wonderful and rich as those in this video. There is a chorus that just jumped into my head, recorded by Warren Barfield. "Love is not a fight, but it's something worth fighting for." May your enjoyment be amplified by the effort it took to achieve it.
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