mixed messages

Last week, I brought The Bean to an open house at the local high school. Besides the twin startling realisations that my daughter will be attending junior high next year AND that it will be at my alma mater, it was an interesting experience.

I have decided that the school is either really good at marketing (I work in public relations, so it's hard for me not to see the world through that lens) or it really is a great place to study and grow up. There is a gifted students program. There is an integrated arts program in junior high, as well as a concentration in various art media in high school. There are sports teams. There are social clubs and committees.

At the welcome plenary, the principal talked about how the school views its main mandate to be forming citizens of the future. Yes! I thought. This is exactly how I see my role as a parent. To grow these little humans into responsible human beings, to be good people. The rest will follow from that.

There was a lot of lip service to this by all the presenters, including the head of the physical education department, who talked about having students give out medals to others for sheer grit and determination. It's all about effort, not about outcome. It's about heart and strength, not about how many goals you've scored.

And then it was time for the highlight reel. The principal flipped through nearly a dozen notable graduates of the school. This former student founded her very own non-profit when she was still in high school, and today the organization ensures fresh drinking water for dozens of communities in Africa. And this alumnus played for Team Canada in Vancouver 2010. And this person is a high profile musician in a famous philharmonic. The list went on. Impressive, indeed.

But it all gave me pause. Where was I in there? Where were my classmates? What about the stay-at-home mom who raises her own free-range chickens, grows organic produce, and is raising three amazing children? What about the kindergarten teacher who takes care of nurturing dozens of small children by day, and returns home to do the same with her own two by night? What about the middle manager in the federal government who toils away to make her workplace an enjoyable place, all the while taking her responsibility as a public servant very seriously? The list goes on.

We tell our children that trying their best is all we want, but then we show them that what we value most is people who make a big splash. Why aren't we celebrating those who are simply good people? I am not saying that the dozen or so alumni who were profiled aren't excellent people. I have no way of knowing. That's the point: the principal didn't talk about the content of their character, but rather of their achievements. I am so much less interested in that than in who they are, how they treat others.

Of course I want my children to be extraordinary. The thing is, I think they already are. And neither of them are piano virtuosi, or math whizzes, or on the verge of founding their own organization. They are good people, with big hearts. They try hard, and since they are human, they sometimes fall down. They get back up. And that's the point, I guess.

Are our expectations and our words of encouragement at odds? How do we walk that fine line between encouraging them to achieve and being content with exactly who they are?

As I was growing up, I was told I could do whatever I wanted when I grew up. Ironically, that put a lot of pressure on me. It was only recently, only once I learned that who I am is exactly what I want to be, that I was happy. I want my kids to be happy now, comfortable in who they are. Perhaps the secret is in learning to be the very best of ourselves. The achievements, whatever shape they take, will come from that place.