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In Praise of Lousy Teachers

Although our kids are early in their school career, I noticed an interesting phenomenon before the start of this school year- jockeying for the “best” teacher. I had no idea the amount of chatter and behind the scenes positioning that goes on among parents about who their child will get the next year. I tried to adopt an attitude of nonchalance, but honestly did breathe a sigh of relief when both kids got “good ones.” But this phenomenon extends far beyond just teachers- there is this insidious desire to ensure that your child has the best of whatever’s on offer.

I’m here to say, “Stop the madness!”


FACT: Broken cookies ARE just as good!

Remember when you were a kid and your Mom made you take the first cookie offered- you couldn’t dig through the plate to find the biggest or the one with the most chocolate chips? There’s a valuable lesson in there. It’s not to say in some Orwellian way, be satisfied with your lot in life, but rather that there are important lessons to be gained out of not having “the best” <insert your preferred noun here: teacher, coach, babysitter, principal, toy, equipment, computer, clothes- whatever>. Not to mention, the broken cookie really does taste JUST AS GOOD.

In fact, while we are praising “lousy” teachers, let’s praise lousy parents too. When I use the word lousy, I am being slightly misleading in an effort to make a point. Obviously, if a teacher is truly not qualified or not performing up to a district’s standards, that’s different. But a teacher who is just performing at the mid-point, who’s room doesn’t look like it came off “Classrooms of Pinterest” or who tries to maintain some semblance of work/life balance? They run the risk of not being one considered one of the “good” ones. But if your kid (or my kid) ends up with a middle of the pack teacher- we should probably rejoice!

Here’s why- if you always demand “the best” for your children, you are setting an impossible standard, one to which you too, will not measure up. We simply can’t be at our best all the time. Sometimes you are going to be a lousy parent- whether missing an important game or conference, making a dinner of canned chili and left over fried rice (last night), or how about just telling the kids you don’t feel like reading a book to them before bed? The Horror! Maybe you are just tired- I’ve heard that happens to parents.

Resilience means learning that this is rarely the answer.

Resilience means learning that this is rarely the answer.

Another important reason is that coping with adversity is a critical skill and building resilience is a process that a) takes a long time, and b) is difficult to measure. And yet, we all know how important resilience is in our adult lives. Jobs are hard, managers are crappy, relationships end, money is scarce, opportunities vanish. A teacher who isn’t half Mary Poppins/half Miss Honey doesn’t put your child on the road to destitution, he or she actually helps them flex & build important mental muscles that don’t show up on the report card.

Tough times DO happen over the course of your life and almost always the right answer is not going to be to drop what you are doing and walk away from it. On the rare occasion where that is the answer- it is a decision that requires great courage, and unlike The Boy Who Cried Wolf, you better be a careful shepherd of that precious resource.

In our home, we take a pretty pragmatic approach when “lousy” shows up in the kids lives. We have a strong bias towards “This too shall pass.” If it’s something more serious, we talk about the importance of getting along or continuing to learn despite whatever challenges the situation may present. But, we also haven’t really been tested yet.

It’s not like the physics teacher I had in high school, who regularly fell asleep in class or the born-again Christian biology teacher who refused to teach Evolution… I’m not sure what I would do if something that extreme presented itself. My reaction as a student was to get mad that they were standing between me and what I was supposed to learn. I’m sure I talked to my parents about both situations, but they didn’t march down to the school, they told me I had better make sure I was keeping my grades up to par.

There is no doubt that children learn far more from good teachers and good parents, but I think we should consider stopping there. You know what, good is good.

There is no doubt that children learn far more from good teachers and good parents, but I think we should consider stopping there. You know what, good is good. Being a good person, having a good life, having a good job. These were the things that the “greatest generation” strived for. They were great because they were good.

Good Enough? Just tell your kids to grow up to be like Aristotle.

Good Enough? Just tell your kids to grow up to be like Aristotle.

I might say it another way and here, I’m going to lean on some big brains- so I’m taking no credit. I was looking to attribute the quote, “Perfect is the Enemy of the Good.” when Wikipedia tossed a few heavyweights my way, to back up my line of thought. Aristotle, Confucius, Voltaire, and others wrote about the idea of the golden mean, which counsels against extremism in general, and further explores the idea that since perfection is likely impossible to achieve anyway, chasing it only leads to diminishing returns.

Now, before you say that undermines the entire idea of striving and achievement- hold up. Let’s remember who these guys were- not exactly slouches. If you apply this principle in your home, and your kid comes up to you at some point and says, “But Aristotle says I don’t have to be the best!” You just say, “Fine, keep up with Aristotle and we’ll call it good.”

Thanks for reading! Please share my post if you enjoyed it- I really appreciate it and always appreciate you taking the time.

What Do You Mean The Party’s Over? I Just Got Here.

Tomorrow is the last day of Kindergarten and I suddenly find myself not ready for it to end. The kids are ready- they are excited for summer and the intellectual challenge of Kindergarten faded months ago, but I think they also have a tremor of trepidation at moving up. Kindergarten is safe and familiar to them- the friends and simple routines that move them through the days. But again, summer is gleaming just out of reach, like a much craved treat- so I know they will shed any fears as easily as dropping their backpacks when getting home from school.

I, on the other hand, was just getting into the swing of things. I was finally starting to recognize the moms and know which kid went with which parent (next year in the student directory- how about pictures of the kids AND parents, please?!). I was reveling in their growing independence and confidence. Now, seemingly suddenly, everyone is ready to close the chapter on this year. I keep thinking of a high school friend of mine who’s twin sons are just graduating from high school. High school! And I am sure she feels like it went by in a blink. I have this unreasonable feeling that I am going to wake up tomorrow to fully formed teenagers donning caps & gowns and heading off to college too.

As a parent of twins, I have the incredible gift of two children to watch through each stage, however, like a singleton parent, I also get only one “shot” at each milestone. We will not pass this way again. Kindergarten is in the books and there is no second chance to do the year “better” or differently. Not that I would change anything- it’s just the finality of it.

In our upstairs hallway, like many families, we have picture frames with dozens of pictures nestled together, chronicling our adventures and the growth of the girls to this point. I am finding myself slowing to stare at their faces, the younger versions of them forever receding from the present as if carried backwards on a conveyor belt into my memory. If I pause, I can sort of “zoom in” and rekindle the moment- whether it’s the touch of baby-soft skin, the smell of infant hair, or the squirmy hugs of toddler. But then it’s gone- that connection with memory is fleeting.

This morning, when I gathered my daughters, by turns, into my lap for a cuddle- they spilled out of my lap, all long arms and legs. They would settle into stillness for a moment, their heads just resting under my chin (if I raised mine a little), and I tried to breathe in this moment- to imprint in my memory.

So, I am left with this feeling that I have just arrived at a party, in time to see everyone filling out the back door- headed on to the next adventure, their laughter drifting back into the house, echoing for a moment before fading away. I don’t want to call them back, at least not in my head (my heart may tell you a different tale), but I yearn for the chance to pause time, so that I could linger among the sights, sounds, and feelings of the moment- the way you would take in the wares in a beloved antique store.

Maybe that is what we do as parents- collect and catalog memories (along with a myriad of physical reminders) like the owner of an antiques shop, presiding over them- dusting, repairing, treasuring them, so that when our children return as customers, eager to relive or try them out, we are ready with just the right piece for their collection.

I invite you to share your thoughts on these milestones or share this post, if it resonated with you! Thanks, as always, for reading.

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