I came across an interesting article in the NYTimes about the identical-twin tennis super duo, Bob and Mike Bryan. Their dad, Wayne, wrote a book on how to foster talent in children, and the article includes this quote:
In 2004, Wayne wrote a book, “Raising Your Child to Be a Champion in Athletics, Arts and Academics,” which stresses, among other things, the importance for a parent of not stealing a child’s thunder. It reads as a manifesto for a sensitive and low-pressure form of hothousing. Wayne spells out very specifically how a parent should approach his child after a match. “First, let your child come to you . . . ,” he writes. “Remember, this is her gig, not yours. You say you want to share her glory? No! Let her friends go up to her and share her moment.” And win or lose, the script is the same: First question: Do you want water or Gatorade? Second question: Where do you want to get something to eat? Third question, if the child is 16 or older: Do you want to drive or should I? “It’s really that simple,” he writes. “If the child wants to talk about the match, you listen. But don’t critique. . . . Your role is to minimize pressure, not create it.”
I thought that would be pretty good advice for the stage moms and dads out there as well, with some obvious substitutions (Do you want a soy latte or shot of bourbon?), but is there anything you do/did for your talented offspring that would add to the “minimize not create” stress mantra? I would give space to the “add more stress” option, but frankly every kid I remember meeting in those competition hallways was already stretched to the breaking point.
As a parent of a lovely eleven year old girl, this was an interesting post. There is always tension between what you want for YOU and what you want for them. Having her love opera is definitely for ME now, but who knows the benefits for her later. I try and resist creating stress but easily fall back into the old habits of pushing harder and harder. I haven’t read the book but wonder how you continue to foster talent in children when they reach the point where they say…I don’t want to do this anymore. We reach this all the time with chorus and the double bass — but we say…well this is your responsibility now and you have to fulfill your commitment. Each time, so far, she’s risen above it and gone on to new achievements. But who’s to say how much pressure is the right amount? I know that I’ll make mistakes as a parent — I hope I make fewer of them than my Mother — but all I know for sure is that they’ll be DIFFERENT mistakes than my mother made…not necessarily FEWER mistakes.
Molly adds: Thanks for adding in your perspective, Karen. If it helps, my mom often worries to me now that she pushed too hard when I was growing up, and I don’t remember it that way at all! If she added any pressure, it paled in comparison the what was going down in my own head. So maybe there’s a good balance where some pressure is actually a kind of support–i.e. “fulfill your commitment” reminders. Parents that just pay attention and regularly talk with their kids about their goals probably find a safe and good line by feel, even if it’s not the “perfect” one (wherever the parenting experts are saying that is this week).
My dad was *always* ready with a bottle of Gatorade at the end of my high-school cross-country races. It was great.