Give Ourselves Credit

I watched "Fame" the other day.  Not the old one, the re-make.  It's not a great movie by any stretch of the imagination, but it did start me thinking.

It's not a new topic for me to ponder.  I have always been that kid that wasn't very good at anything, so I sit and watch people that are talented with a kind of melancholy.  How does it come so easily to some people?

I was raised up in a house where everyone else seemed so brilliantly and innately talented and that didn't help my inferiority complex any.  My mother is one of those annoying creatures that's good at just about everything she tries.  She's a fantastic athlete and an amazing artist.  She could create anything out of anything: a piece of wood, or clay, some paints, sand or snow (I need to dig up a photo of her snow elephant).  My father was the more emotional of the pair and you could feel that emotion through him whenever he played the piano.  Further, he had a most extraordinary eye for photography and his singing voice was just perfect really.  Then my brother, while he wasn't athletic or particularly artistic, was the super-student and so obviously gifted in that arena it was humbling even to this kid that coasted through school with near straight-As.  His grades weren't necessarily as good as mine were, but he attended a tough private school to my no-brainer public school and he, to this day, can retain everything he ever learned.  Me?  I got to test day, regurgitated the facts and *bam* it was gone.  To this day I'm like a freakin' goldfish that way.

So, back to the movie.  I was watching these real kids - the actors, I mean - dancing and singing and acting.  They were playing instruments like pros.  Well, I guess because they ARE pros.  And I wondered ... do they know how amazing that is?

When Tim was in high school, he was involved in a robotics program.  At the end of the year, they had a party to celebrate their accomplishments.  I remember so clearly watching these happy, silly kids having a great time just doing their thing and I felt a most strange sense of bittersweet pride.  These young men and women had such talent.  From their own minds and without the use of a recipe or instructions, they created, planned and produced a remote-controlled robot that even shot baskets!  At that moment, celebrating like that, I knew they were pleased with themselves but I couldn't help thinking:  Did they know what amazing talent they had?  

Do YOU know what amazing talent YOU have?  This isn't to bash on myself and certainly isn't meant to elicit compliments, but my life is nothing about being good at anything.  I lead a life of moderation and that certainly includes being moderately talented and only at the things I really work at.  I can run for a long time if my foot will let me, but I run it slowly.  I will never be competitive there.  I can't do yoga worth a 'namaste' but I like the feeling I get when I try.  I can carry a tune and I have no stage fright whatsoever but I'm not good.  I work very, very hard to learn one piece on the piano and even then can't really play it all that well.  Shoot, I even wrote a fairly simple piece of music and I don't believe I've ever even played that flawlessly.

I cook often, but nothing other than maybe my turkey is worth calling in a food critic over.  You'd think I'd get better and better at the things I work at like that, but I just kind of stay at average.   That seems to be my peak.  Even when I was a rebellious teen running around on my bike constantly with kids that were amazing on their bikes, the best I ever got was one day when I decided to ride no-handed on a racing bike across town.  I was pretty stoked that I did it honestly, but I never flew ten feet in the air above a quarter pipe like my peers.

You guys... my friends and I'll bet the few strangers that read this ... probably are thinking "well, I'm not that good at anything either."  Certainly I don't have any movie stars in my rolodex.  The one really famous singer I knew has most unfortunately left this world.  I was once friends with a professional basketball player, but we've lost touch.  So, I suppose, I'm talking to a bunch of amateurs or, at the most, some on-the-poorer-side pros.  But whether you get paid to do it is NOT the sum of your talent. In just my small circle of friends, there is a truly talented actress and tap-dancer; piano players of the concert pianist level; geniuses and great chefs; brilliant writers and fantastic photographers.  I know athletes that never give themselves credit for their feats.  I am thrilled to own several pieces of art from a most unique and accomplished artist and I know closet artists that are as good as any that are selling their works out there.  I know guitar players and drummers, singers and song-writers that never cease to amaze me with their creativity.  I stand in awe of all of you.

Even as I was writing this, I started feeling 'that way' again.  You know the way: the old "why them, not me" thing?  But then I started thinking about some of my friends whose talent can't really be defined in the things I describe above.  When I thought of them specifically, I instantly thought of how they are brilliant business people or comedians, or how they manage to never tire of being there for others, or how they have an innate ability to inspire and hold up and encourage.  These sorts of talents are every bit as unique and admirable as any other, if not more so.  Then I began, slowly ... and truthfuly I'm not quite there yet... but I began to see that maybe I do have a bit of this alternative talent.  I'm really good at reading people.  I'm an excellent mom. I'm an above average listener (when you can get me to shut up).  I'm unusually gifted at stopping and smelling the roses and am intensely appreciative of this life we have.  So, maybe, after all these years of wishing I could sing, or dance, or act, or draw, or play sports ... maybe I can finally give myself credit for the talent I hold.

You should too. Let's give ourselves credit where credit is due and let's give others an opportunity to applause a job well done.

Free to be Me

I think most of us will agree that our teen years are some of the worst years of our lives.  Terrified not to fit in or, worse, to stand out and be ostracized, we learn to conform to the popular standards at a relatively young age.

We just want to be normal, popular people with average lives, right?

But what does that really mean?  According to Webster’s, it means we really want to be people characterized by average intelligence and development, who are generally liked and approved of and to lead lives deficient in quality.

Yup, me too.  Where do I sign up for that?

Now, most folks would probably argue that we don’t really want average lives.  We want amazing lives!  We want all our dreams to come true.  Certainly the path towards that goal involves following someone else’s standards, dressing fashionably and never speaking out for ourselves, right?  I’m pretty sure all the most successful adults conduct themselves in that manner, don’t you think?

No, actually, I don’t think so.  I live in a pretty non-sexy world so I don’t know any socialites and I'll assume they play by those rules.  Yet, I can assure you the people I do know who stand out, such as some self-made mega-millionaires I know (of which I do now know several), did not get there by following a crowd.

So as an alternative to that dull, unintelligent, unimaginative life where, albeit, we might be generally liked but not particularly self-actualized, may I suggest we say:

“I want to be a unique, outstanding person with an extraordinary life.”

Then what we are really saying is "I want to be a person without an equal, marked by eminence and distinction with a life that is exceptional to a very marked extent."

OK, I realize I just talked over the heads of my target audience.  So here, consider this:

The opposite of normal?  Exceptional, extraordinary
The opposite of popular?  Exceptional, extraordinary (yeah, it is)
The opposite of conformity?  Distinctiveness

We are so busy as teenagers trying to find ourselves apart from our parents.  It’s the time in our lives when we are supposedly rebelling.  Indeed, we would rather become ANYone other than our parents, or teachers, or those old people in our lives that try to guide us (which is code word for boss us around).  Think about how lame your parents were/are and the music they listen to (seriously?) and the way they dress (do they even check themselves in the mirror?) and could they just drop us off a block from school so no one has to see their superior lameness??? 

But in all that angst and rejection and superiority, we go right into that school wearing exactly what Emily, the head cheerleader and homecoming queen, wore last week.  (We begged Lame-O Mom for it for days until she conceded.)  We talk like “them,” we watch the same things “they” do; we listen to the same music and “like” it.  We try to become “them.”  Oh yes we do.  I did it.  I didn’t succeed, but I sure as hell tried.  And if we can’t become them, we rebel against them too by …..wait for it….. wait for it….dressing like the ‘out’ crowd that we are now ‘in’ with.  Now we talk like “them,” we watch the same things “they” do; we listen to the same music and “like” it.  We try to become this “them.”

Where’s the rebellion?  OK, and for that matter, what does that even mean?  Going again to Webster’s, “Rebel” is a person that “rises up against authority or another’s control.”  I’m no control freak – by a far measure – but I have to admit that not being under another’s control sounds very appealing.  I like the idea of controlling my own destiny and I like the idea that it will be extraordinary and I’m pretty sure that no one else is going to create that for me.  So call me a middle-aged rebel.

I’m asking teenagers to consider what they are doing and why instead of just doing it.  Take three seconds and write down your biggest dream for your life.  I don’t care if it’s “be a rock star” or “make a million dollars.”  Just write it down.  Then think about it for three more seconds.  What is it going to take to get you there?  I’m gonna’ guess that it’s not Emily the homecoming queen or even her approval.  My advice?  Live your life for you.  Do what makes you feel happiest.  And then be a real friend and encourage the kids around you to do the same – for them.

And I’m asking parents to stop programming their kids.  I know it’s hard, but find out who they are not who you wish they would be.  I know we all want our child to be loved, to be popular, to be successful, and I don’t think it’s malicious at all.  Certainly some parents actually know the code and can pave the way for their children to be the head cheerleader, or the football captain.  And that’s great.  I’m not going to argue that that doesn’t make things go more smoothly for them.  But high school is a blink and they need to be set for the rest of their lives, not lost on a journey that has no destination.  If all they've learned is how to play the game, they may have a life their neighbors admire, but they won't find the joy of scribbling outside the lines.

I don’t know a single adult that doesn’t still, to this day, whether they were uber popular or an outcast, whether they had the greatest parents or the worst… I don’t know one that doesn’t at least every once in a while hurt, that doesn’t feel lonely, that doesn’t pray for someone to just ‘get’ them.  It's why we light up around certain people, isn't it?  It's a precious friend that truly gets us and maybe even concurs on our craziest ideas.  Or not, but just loves us for having them. Around those friends we're free to be our very own "me."

Kids?  Try to believe this old person when she tells you your best move is to find what you love and follow that.  Parents?  Smoothing the way for an interim is nice, but let’s give our kids the support to be their extraordinary, unique and outstanding selves for life.