What Messages Are You Sending Your Child?
Don't send the wrong message to your children. They need to know they are loved in order to give love in the world!
I sat in the high school auditorium for another 8th grade ceremony with great hope that he just couldn’t be overlooked this time. This time, they had to notice. My beautifully gifted baby son whom I brought into this world and loved since birth has got to be recognized. “He has to be,” I told myself. “He’s not going to be,” I feared. I glanced over the program and didn’t see his name under any honor/recognition category but hope remained that someone saw what I could see in him and that his recognition would be in an unlisted category where his name would be called. As names were called up, the same names again and again, my anxiety increased. The internal discomfort was winning. I was trapped in the chair without an escape from my pain. I could see the back of his head up front. A lump in my throat grew with discomfort and my eyes began to flutter as I fought back the pain and my husband took notice which made the anxiety increase more. I am thinking, “how is this possible?” I know this child. He works to the best of his ability. Actually, beyond his ability, given the limited ways you are given information in a school setting. When he gets off the bus at night he drags himself down the driveway and to the couch because mentally he has done all he can do. At home we celebrate 70s because literacy is just that hard for him. In my head, I was yelling “HE’S GIFTED you IDIOTS!” (No, not a classy thought) Anxiety turned to rage, rage to pain, and pain to tears because I couldn’t unleash the bewilderment onto anyone. That would have been inappropriate (can you imagine me screaming from the back of the auditorium?...haha.) Since I can’t handle anyone seeing me cry, I got up and went to the restroom so I could make an ugly face cry to release it and return. My husband gently touched my hand (in fear I would swat him, I’m sure, as I have a large untouchable radius that surrounds me when I’m hurting) and he said, “It doesn’t matter, we know him, they have a narrow yardstick.” Through my pain, I replayed the night. Thinking about who was honored and why they were honored in that very small rural high school. I just couldn’t accept that they couldn’t have recognized his gifts. This was a repeat from the last ceremony, and it turned out not to be the last one. I had to, and will have to, sit through this again in the future with other children. The next time, I did have a child up on the stage but I only had eyes and heart for the ones who weren’t. Even the students who don’t bring “perseverance” as their gift bring something. It might be sense of humor, energy, ideas.....these are the gifts that matter. School success is very honorable, yet it’s not the whole puzzle. As parents do we honor our children’s God given gifts? Society can’t function without the culmination of gifts from various people. Individuals bring different gifts to the table. These gifts combined and tapped into are what make us ONE.
As a parent of four who didn’t always have children whose gifts were “award ceremony” honorable on stage, I learned many lessons through my pain. Pain is a necessary guide to help us. We can choose to either learn from it or suppress it and be a victim or depressed.
Lessons I learned and what I know now:
There is a time and place where our children get honored. The more important thing is not who is honored or what is honored at an event like this, it’s I how I behave/think and the kind of emphasis that has the lasting impact on our children. If we act disappointed or voice our concern, we send them the message that this event or award defines their worth. Can we as the parent be present and celebrate for those honored without taking it as a failure of ourselves or our children? Can we continue to emphasize to them the gifts they have that are valuable? These events last about an hour and only tell us a little bit about a person. What we say and do before and after is the lasting impression. I was usually able to step up and say the right things, reminding them of their unique treasures and how they would help them all their lives. I instilled in them that a better measure of success is how much they give not how many awards they receive. Behold, their days came! Their gifts were rewarded in friendships, work environments, job promotions, relationships and more. They are thriving now and using their gifts because we as the parents helped them see what they were. We didn’t become self-pitying, victimized parents who stayed caught in a moment too long. If you ever feel the way I did, rein yourself back in. Use this video clip from raising small souls as a center for the messages you want to send your children and remind them that if they chose to, they will discover who they are and what their specialties are. You can help them to develop their gifts over a lifetime and eventually it will lead to successes and purpose.
Be patient. Let things happen in God’s time. Celebrate with those who are at their time right now. Develop a good attitude about it. You decide what measures success. Remember that this recognition doesn’t define you, your child or the child receiving many awards. Keep a gratitude attitude!
LIKE and SHARE to help someone change their thinking who might need a little help. YOU could be a huge service to someone.
Tis the time of year for seeing many accomplishments on social media. CONGRATULATIONS to all of you who are at your time right now. Celebrate! Be proud parents and carry on the good works! For those parents or children who are wondering when and if your time will ever come, it will, so long as you keep the right perspective and teach your children to give and love! Love them for exactly who they are at the time. Keep plugging away at the hard things and nurture their gifts.
Am I alone in having experienced these feelings? Do you have another or a different perspective? Please comment below. Be courageous! Make my day.
Consider yourself well prepared to give and receive love in times of doubt,
Cindy Walter
