At some point in the parent-child journey, there is often the situation where the child expresses the desire to pursue an interest. Assuming the family enjoys some level of privilege, this interest can be indulged to serious levels. With a dose of common sense, this is not a bad thing. Most of the activities one encounters are competitive in nature, which can be good preparation for adulthood’s “rat race.”
What I find amazing are the striking similarities behind the scenes of wildly different settings. Whether it’s competitive dancing, cheerleading, ice skating, gymnastics, equestrian events, hockey, soccer, baseball, football, choir, band, pageants, modeling, and so on, parents and kids can expect certain things.
These activities have the same cast: young participants, parents, coaches, private instructors, equipment vendors, judges/referees/umpires, etc. If you go into an ice center or bowling alley, you’re likely to find a pro shop, a decently maintained facility, and a staff with the instructor(s) everyone gets to know. This is the same with a dance studio, a stables, or the music wing of the local middle- and high-schools.
The path to success is familiar wherever you go. Little kids are brought in to learn the basics–some still wearing training pants–not far from where the older kids are pushing their abilities to advanced levels. At shows, demonstrations, or competitions, spectators ooh and ah over how cute the smalls ones are, especially in their full get-up. When the teens display carefully honed talents, the crowds are duly impressed. Sprinkled among the kids may be a class of adults who came to the activity late, but with passion born of love for the activity.
Behind the scenes, the moms (and some dads) juggle outfits and equipments. If they’re lucky, they’ll get to their seats in time to see their kids perform. If not, they’ll catch it on the DVD conveniently sold through a media company hired by the group running the Event.
At the big Event, there will be divisions based on age and talent level. The young kids typically go early, if not first. Some cry, some ham it up, and most will follow the lead of their little friends. At some point during the Event, a kid will either go down or make a mistake, recover, then receive great applause for their bravery. When it’s over, some families will descend upon a few hapless ice cream parlors or restaurants to celebrate success, some go home to crash in exhaustion, and others slink home in defeat. All of them get up the next day and start again.
Among the parents where the commitment is serious, you’ll find the “stage moms” who micro-manage their kids’ lives and performances. Among the kids, you’ll find some with true talent and dedication. It’s their life’s ambition to make it in the activity. Some are driven by their dreams, and some by their parents’ dreams. Then there are the kids who love what they’re doing, but they haven’t the talent to go as far as they’d like. They’re always on the bubble of inclusion: some days they get a good part, but most days they barely hold their own. But they go on for the love of the environment and friends.
When I think of all this, I see the girls, ages 5-18, made up for dance/cheer/gymnastics/ice skating. Heavy makeup and flashy costumes are part of the deal, and, for the most part, they look like lovely young women, although some look too mature for their age.
The adults who run the whole thing tend to be people who were those teenagers, once upon a time. They grew up in that world and have chosen to continue doing what they love. They may not be young or spry enough to compete–or maybe they are–but they take pleasure in passing their knowledge on to the next generation. They teach, mentor, and teach some more. While a few take gross advantage of their students, it is the majority by far who nurtures and pushes the kids under their wings.
There are high and low points to this way of life. As they say, find balance in moderation. It’s not healthy to invest so much into this lifestyle that a series of defeats would break you. To use another cliché, don’t put all your eggs in one basket. That basket can be taken out by a blown knee, a lot sense of balance, or a growth spurt that makes those tight tucks and rolls impossible.
Go ahead and indulge your kids. But remember to teach them that there’s more to life. Think of all the kids who would love something as simple as piano lessons but can’t afford it. How about the kids who would love a steady, stable living situation? Being involved in all these competitive activities is a privilege. Getting to work your ass off to shine is a privilege. Teach your kids to make the best of what they love, and they’ll go far.
