Being Mediocre On Purpose
Intensive parenting was first described in the 1990s and 2000s . . . It grew from a major shift in how people saw children. They began to be considered vulnerable and moldable . . . The result was a parenting style that was ‘child-centered, expert-guided, emotionally absorbing, labor intensive and financially expensive.’
– “The Relentlessness of Modern Parenting,” Claire Cain Miller, New York Times
A few years ago, our son got into playing chess. His dad taught him during one boring afternoon at home, he joined an after-school chess class, and when he easily placed at their year-end mock tournament and wanted to keep going, I began looking into local tournaments. I was surprised to discover that, hidden in hotel conference rooms all over our area, there were droves of Asian kids playing competitive chess all day, every weekend. There were young boys glued to chess puzzles on their iPads, parents discussing the merits of local chess coaches, people who could rattle off each other’s rankings.
Our son was six years old at the time. Kids his age had private chess coaches, were practicing through the week in local clubs, and competing in tournaments every weekend. We couldn’t manage all that with three other young kids to care for, but I managed to bring him to afternoon-only tournaments twice a month, we found a local teenager to coach him, and he played at home with Dad, at least until his little sister came and rearranged the board. He managed to rise through the ranks for the better part of a year, then one day he came out of a tournament having lost all his games to an older kid. “Mom,” he said, “I want to stop now.” So we did. He plays now and then for fun, but hasn’t been back in a tournament room since.
When we moved here, people told us that when it comes to extracurricular activities, you pick your poison. No one does anything half-way. People start their kids early, pay for the best teachers, and work them hard. You have to be mediocre on purpose; no one does anything casually. And I’ve pretty much discovered that to be true. We’ve since cycled through the same process with other activities. It goes something like this: 1. child displays aptitude/interest, 2. invest resources, 3. discover highly competitive world in which child is mediocre, 4. assess whether to continue or readjust investment, 5. repeat.
The hardest part of that process is step 4. Step 4 basically didn’t exist in the southern, middle-class suburb where I grew up. If you were good at something, you kept doing it, and you were probably one of the few who were. Here, we talk through step 4 on a regular basis. We’re constantly having to filter not only what we do with our kids, but how we’re doing it, through questions like these:
is the tone being set by this coach/teacher/team okay, or too intense?
is this making my child too stressed and anxious, or is this a healthy amount of stress?
is there an opportunity cost here? are they losing too much free time, or is this engaging their excess energy in a good way? is this affecting their ability to invest in less-seen but more important areas of growth?
what is the effect on our collective family? how is it changing sibling dynamics? our own level of fatigue?
what are my motives? am I secretly trying to cultivate a resume-padder? or is this to develop a life-long skill, foster friendships and self-confidence, help them grow in an area of character weakness, etc?
should I push this particular child more, or let them set their own pace? what is my sense of their own interest, and the effect this is having on their health, identity, and development?
We’ve pretty much run the gamut of answers. We’ve pulled out of activities, continued activities but with teachers who stress fun over winning, and other times we’ve joined the most competitive clubs. We’ve changed from one kind of involvement to another within one activity depending on our stage of life. But the point is, around her, I’m just going to keep my kid doing what they’re good at is not enough. The concept of good is frighteningly relative, and to keep doing comes at significant cost. The great thing is that there are amazing opportunities and resources around: the challenge is the constant intentionality it takes to do something in a way that is consistent with what you believe to be important. That alone takes a significant amount of energy and thought.
