If You Could See What I See ~Part One

Rejection is redirection

‘I am sorry to inform you that we cannot offer you admissions….’ and there it is the No. Weeks were devoted to preparing college applications. Editing essays and creating a portfolio to showcase his academic accomplishments and his personality. The rejection was disappointing; I saw his chest deflate. I respond the only way I know – no matter the result- I celebrate. Can I get a WOOT WOOT? High fives for putting yourself out there, for going for it. A parenting decision made early on; applaud the setbacks, the let downs, the disappointments as much as the accomplishments. Remember, kiddo, rejection is a redirection. I immediately get the look. Too soon, I ask? Yes, mom, too soon. He is perplexed. It is not the time to pull out the cheer squad. Message received. I inch away; he needs space to process; I zip it and back off, my Hallmark moment shelved.

I grapple with the rejection. I know this is not the end of the world. I believe this is the universe saying, nope, you do not belong here, I have other plans for you. It bugs me that he gets wrapped up in the decision and loses sight of the prize. He applied to ten Universities. It will be a long winter waiting on strangers to determine my kids’ value proposition.

After a day or so, I go in; words need to be spoken. My boys are used to my positive vibes. I know that teenagers have zero interest in long speeches from their parents. I make a deal, give me five minutes, I talk, you listen. He gives me a look and sets the timer. Permission granted, green light, go.

Deep breath~

This is one of the few times in life I will ask you to look back so you can see how far you have come. I understand that the rejection letter feels like a gut punch. I get that this was your first pick. But I cannot sit back and let you give away your power to a single decision. Today represents so much more than a letter from someone in an admissions office. Today is an amazing day; today is the day we revel in your incredible effort, the hard work, and determination you have applied to your High School career. You have arrived at the place in which you can confidently apply to outstanding schools. The joy lies at this moment. The acceptance and rejection letters are simply in place to direct you to your next assignment. And honestly, it does not matter where you attend school; you have already proven that you have the grit to succeed. The whole of these four years is so much more than what you could possibly begin to put in an application, so no, you do not get to hang your head low; today, you have earned high fives. Head up, shoulders back, and get ready because great things are coming your way. Today we celebrate.  

The timer goes off; my time has expired. I get his signature half-smile, I know mom, rejection is a redirection.

This is not the first time my kid has heard this speech, but he clearly needed a reminder.

If you could see what I see… 

For you see, this is the same kid that was often overlooked in sports due to his size. This came to light in middle school as most boys start having massive growth spurts. I noticed that sports were slowly dimming his inner light. He associated his self-worth with the number of minutes on the field. Too often, we focus on the benefits of sports, and there are many (if you fit the bill), but we rarely discuss the flip side of the coin. There were times when my boy felt defeated and crushed solely based on a coach’s decisions. I remember witnessing his light dim from the bleachers and thinking, wow, if he could only see what I see, he would never question himself.

As for what I see, well, I see a is a kid that is small but plays big; I see a kid who, when given an opportunity, shares the stage with teammates. I see an incredibly bright kid that excels in academics; I see a kid who has never turned away from adventure, who attacks black diamond mountains like bunny hills. I see a kid who is kind to his peers and polite to his teachers. I see a kid with a gift for asking the right questions, keen curiosity, and intelligent humor. My kid attended 5 different schools (corporate moves), walked in as the new kid, and left every school with lifelong mates. I see an extraordinary person; this is not a human that is meant to sit on the sidelines. This kid is so much more…

Rip off the band-aid

That was the moment that I realized I needed to speak the truth to my kid. I made sure he understood that he is so much more than any given moment. I made it clear that coaches make decisions for the team; it is not personal. I understood why it felt personal. Before this experience, sports were set up for equal playtime and a participation medal, but this is not how real life works. It is not equal; it is not supposed to be. Many factors will contribute to where you land in life. But If you could see what I see, you would realize that you have the makings to impact this world with such a positive force; if you could see what I see, you would know that you are meant for a remarkable life. This moment is one of a thousand pieces. There will be times when you will not be in the winner’s circle when you are not good enough to make the team. You will work your tail off and still come up short; that is life. Always set goals, work hard, never let up, but do not connect your personal value, your self-worth, to the outcome of any given situation.

I planted the seeds of growth and worth in my children. I encourage my boys to try things with a high probability of failure. I urge them to do the hard stuff and empower them to make their own decisions with sports, classes, friends, and self-expression. I want the world to say NO often. Learning how to respond to the NO’s will set them apart from the wolf pack. I want my boys to thank the universe for rejections. I want them to get to a place where they trust the journey.

Level up parents

Time to level up parents. Perhaps we ought to do a better job applauding effort and hard work. Maybe we stop overscheduling kids, you know, give them time to be kids and to explore their interests. Perhaps we stop blaming the umpire for strikeouts or losses on bad calls from the refs. Maybe when your kid has a bad game, you back off and let him be. Perhaps a play by play of all the mistakes he made is not the approach. Maybe we stop doing our kids’ assignments. Maybe we stop rushing to school when our child does not receive glowing remarks from the teacher. And perhaps we start listening to our kids, let them tell us which sports they want to try, which subject interests them, which food they like, what they like to wear. Perhaps we stop comparing our kid to the All-star next door or the genius in his classroom. Here is an idea, stop putting the spotlight on the sport they play, how popular they are, and the academic load they carry. Switch the spotlight to the failures; after all, if they are failing, they are likely trying hard stuff; as far as I am concerned, this deserves lots of high fives; this deserves an attaboy!

XO,