Kobe Bryant (1978-2020) stands out as an elite basketball player among a sport filled with elite. Drafted out of high school and immediately traded to the Los Angeles Lakers, Bryant spent his entire adult career with that franchise. The first guard in the history of the NBA to play 20 seasons, he was designated an All-Star in 18 of them.
Bryant’s round-ball accomplishments are too numerous to recount here. The self-named Black Mamba is so far the only NBA player to have multiple numbers retired by the same team.
It would have been tough to be a child athlete in the Bryant household, overshadowed by Dad’s fame.
One of his daughters once brought home a 4th-place trophy for whatever sport she was in. Fourth place is no bragging matter, regardless the circumstances, and many of us today are righteously contemptuous of anything that smacks of an award “for just showing up.” Kobe Bryant responded to it in a way that resonates with many.
Bryant told his daughter to display it in her room where she could see it every morning when she woke up. “Look at that trophy,” he said, “and remind yourself of what you’ll never win again.”
I have a friend whose son, seriously unsuited to athletic accomplishment, brought home yet another ribbon congratulating him for finishing a season having scored zero points. The boy was angry and frustrated, because the award served only to highlight his failure.
Winners all! Even the sluggards!
Many parents are outraged over the practice of the participation award. It offers every player public recognition without winners or losers. “Everybody is a winner!” goes the mantra.
Everyone knows it’s a lie.
From the standpoint of human worth, of course, everyone IS a winner. Human life is precious and ought to be acknowledged as such, whether the kid is a klutz or not. (I know whereof I speak.. personal experience.)
Universal awards push those less accomplished up the scale, lauded as great performers. The ones who scored all the points are downplayed toward mediocrity. Such a plan robs both ends of the athletic spectrum of self esteem. As with so many well-intentioned plans, it brings about exactly the effect it sought to avoid.
If everyone gets a trophy, when do we get to celebrate the real winners? Therefore, many conclude, mere participation ribbons are evil. Kill those awards!
Consistency should be rewarded
A counter-argument, however, lies in the values programmed into the child who consistently shows up for practice all season long. There is a lot to this: rolling out of bed, getting dressed, finishing breakfast, participating — however awkwardly — in drills, enduring the disrespect of more adept peers.
Pre-teens are not known for their gracious encouragement when a ball is fumbled.
Seasons generally finish out with awards ceremonies. This is an important celebration, as it brings closure to what will be a permanent part of the child’s growth. At a certain level, this is tangible proof that the child actually stayed with the program and endured to the end.
It is a victory, however small. Most parents desperately need those victories.
We all know that Mom and Dad can push the child too hard; conversely, they can be absent and uninvolved. Nobody said parenting was easy.
Who deserves a participation award?
I submit there is an issue of age and maturity. Kids are pretty discerning, and they know who the good contributors are on the team. But it generally takes a certain minimum number to even HAVE a team, and not everyone — usually not ANY one — is a superstar.
The kid who expresses an interest in a sport and is willing to hang with it for an entire season, ought, up to a certain age, be rewarded for it. My preference would be for nothing lavish — no shiny plastic trophies for not winning any games — but perhaps a printed certificate with a gold seal on it. Signed by the coach.
“Thanks for showing up! You did good!”
Put it on the refrigerator, and later, move it into his or her bedroom where it will curl and languish, thumbtacked to the wall. But there it is, a reminder of the victory of consistent discipline.
What do the experts say?
Not that parents currently waging the War-on-Child-Rearing have time to study the experts, but here are a couple of research-based opinions.
And yes, if you believe that unbiased research can lead to opposite conclusions, you would be correct. Nevertheless, here they are. (You may feel free to wade through the source documents, if you dare.)
Yes, participation awards are useful:
Deci & Ryan's Self-Determination Theory (2000)
Summary: Participation awards can foster intrinsic motivation in young children by promoting feelings of competence and belonging. These awards help reinforce positive behaviors and encourage continued participation in activities, particularly for children who may lack natural athletic skills or confidence.
No! Participation awards encourage entitlement and failure:
Twenge & Campbell's Narcissism Studies (2009)
Summary: Participation awards, when given indiscriminately, may contribute to an inflated sense of entitlement in children, fostering unrealistic expectations of success without effort or achievement. This could lead to issues with resilience and coping later in life.
When to stop the awards
I am no expert, but I have dealt with the day-to-day realities of getting kids out of bed and off to school. In my head, there was a continual undercurrent of worry (Tolkien: the drums of Barad-dur): Am I making the right moves to help him develop responsibility, determination and confidence?
At a young age, the participation award can be a useful tool for parents. It allows Mom or Dad to make the point that capability and discipline has been demonstrated.
The certificate could be employed up to, say, 4th grade… maybe 5th. By the time the kids are in middle school, they will have sorted themselves into mutually recognizable skill sets. At that point, the participation ribbon, as with my buddy’s son, becomes a disincentive.
When I received a medal for a tuba solo at state contest in high school, I recognized that a total of ONLY ONE in my entire school had merited that award. It was a huge confidence builder. (Although, in fact, there were only 3 of us in the tuba section.)
And, while I appreciated the coveted, tasteful single Ruby on a gold lapel-pin for a debate award as a senior, I was poignantly aware it was not the MORE coveted Double Ruby award.
Oh, well.
Parenting is not for the weak
It may be a stretch, but recall the Apostle’s advice to Christians:
…encourage one another and build each other up… 1 Thessalonians 5:11
I don’t see why this passage should exclude the parent-child relationship. Use the occasion of the participation award to stimulate your elementary-age kid’s self-esteem. For the teenager, you might want to follow Kobe Bryant’s example. Both approaches are forms of encouragement.
Those who excel in competitive sports — at an age where strength, speed, coordination and internal drive mean something — ought to be recognized for righteous achievement.
Those who do not, ought to be steered into arenas where they CAN succeed. There are plenty of extra-curriculars that are not sports: Band, vocal music, theatre, art, literature, technology, chemistry, math… Choose your field.
It’s a wide world.
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Thanks for joining The Alligator Blog. If you disagree with me, you probably have good reasons based on your own child-rearing experience. I invite your comments below.
Don’t worry about offending me. The Substack platform gives no ribbons for merely showing up. If you don’t tell me what you think, I will continue to be a voice crying in the wilderness.
Toward a Philosophy of the Participation Trophy