When your child deserves accolades don’t say, “I’m so proud of you,” Point out the accomplishment or inherent quality and say, “You must be so proud.”
I can’t recall where I heard these words of wisdom, but they resonated.
Who owns the pride or self-respect?
My mother often spoke of her “five beautiful daughters.” I know most people would think of this as a positive thing, but I wondered at her smugness. After all, beauty is subjective. Being a child who picked up on non-verbal clues, I could tell that my proud mother’s acclamations were not always appreciated. Oddly, it made me feel used as if I were an adornment and embarrassed. Beautiful didn’t fit with my own sense of myself. As compared to my sisters, I saw myself as no more than presentable.
Besides, I would have preferred being noticed for other qualities that belonged to me alone, that weren’t part of a genetic package, things about which I felt proud. That’s what I wanted reflected.
I miss my mother and credit her for things she did pass on and what she taught me by example – to never-give-up, to value food and entertaining, to love conversation and books. She never left the bedroom in the morning without her make-up and some stylish outfit, usually hand-sewn. I’m not likely to be found disheveled at the grocery store. If she hadn’t owned those things in me, if she’d respected my boundaries, I would have told her more often what a gem she was – a missed opportunity for both of us.
Today, we all have abundant opportunities to express how proud we are of our children, but for me there is a fine line between pride and a misguided sense of how fascinating others find their qualities and accomplishments.
For instance, does every kid who has received an award for being Student of the Month deserve a never-to-be-removed bumper sticker? Wouldn’t it be better if the child put the certificate on her desk at home, to remind herself that she had worked hard?
Or did she? Being on the honor role, may be the easiest thing in the world for some kid, and the struggle of a lifetime for another might be a passing grade. Who deserves the sticker? And why does it feel as if the parent is bragging about what an amazingly brilliant child they reared? If your child is intelligent, what does that imply about you? Does it mean you too are brilliant or bigheaded?
In my view no one gets everything. A parent’s job is to shine a light, to be an accurate mirror, so the child can decide if they agree and what he recognizes as his own. Children may see other qualities in themselves, things that may surprise us. Isn’t it up to them to choose what to internalize?
If I’m told how brilliant and beautiful your offspring are, it robs me of the opportunity to tell you or them what I see. It takes from me the opportunity to point out a quality, physical or personal, that I have noticed.
I’d love to use the word beautiful to refer to your daughter, if that’s what I see. But I might as likely come up with clever or kind or talented.
Then later, when I am with you, I might say, “I can tell that you did a great job. You must be proud.”
Then you can figure out how that makes you feel.
Mary-Jo Murphy
I can’t recall where I heard these words of wisdom, but they resonated.
Who owns the pride or self-respect?
My mother often spoke of her “five beautiful daughters.” I know most people would think of this as a positive thing, but I wondered at her smugness. After all, beauty is subjective. Being a child who picked up on non-verbal clues, I could tell that my proud mother’s acclamations were not always appreciated. Oddly, it made me feel used as if I were an adornment and embarrassed. Beautiful didn’t fit with my own sense of myself. As compared to my sisters, I saw myself as no more than presentable.
Besides, I would have preferred being noticed for other qualities that belonged to me alone, that weren’t part of a genetic package, things about which I felt proud. That’s what I wanted reflected.
I miss my mother and credit her for things she did pass on and what she taught me by example – to never-give-up, to value food and entertaining, to love conversation and books. She never left the bedroom in the morning without her make-up and some stylish outfit, usually hand-sewn. I’m not likely to be found disheveled at the grocery store. If she hadn’t owned those things in me, if she’d respected my boundaries, I would have told her more often what a gem she was – a missed opportunity for both of us.
Today, we all have abundant opportunities to express how proud we are of our children, but for me there is a fine line between pride and a misguided sense of how fascinating others find their qualities and accomplishments.
For instance, does every kid who has received an award for being Student of the Month deserve a never-to-be-removed bumper sticker? Wouldn’t it be better if the child put the certificate on her desk at home, to remind herself that she had worked hard?
Or did she? Being on the honor role, may be the easiest thing in the world for some kid, and the struggle of a lifetime for another might be a passing grade. Who deserves the sticker? And why does it feel as if the parent is bragging about what an amazingly brilliant child they reared? If your child is intelligent, what does that imply about you? Does it mean you too are brilliant or bigheaded?
In my view no one gets everything. A parent’s job is to shine a light, to be an accurate mirror, so the child can decide if they agree and what he recognizes as his own. Children may see other qualities in themselves, things that may surprise us. Isn’t it up to them to choose what to internalize?
If I’m told how brilliant and beautiful your offspring are, it robs me of the opportunity to tell you or them what I see. It takes from me the opportunity to point out a quality, physical or personal, that I have noticed.
I’d love to use the word beautiful to refer to your daughter, if that’s what I see. But I might as likely come up with clever or kind or talented.
Then later, when I am with you, I might say, “I can tell that you did a great job. You must be proud.”
Then you can figure out how that makes you feel.
Mary-Jo Murphy