The second, lesser-discussed shelf

October 22nd, 2009 | by TJ |

Recent email conversations with our Aunt Becky got me thinking about a few things (like the circles of empty praise so many of us travel within), and in reading through certain blog world scandals that don’t need to be rehashed at the moment (but seriously, WTF is going on with THAT?), and in trying to verbalize my worn-out-ness with blogs in different circles and communities, I’ve come up with a kind of analogy about more ways I would treat my hypothetical future child(ren) terribly.

Anyway, you can make what connections you will from this, but here’s something I’ve been thinking about lately.

At my parents’ house, I have some trophies. Nerdy trophies, to be sure, but trophies nonetheless. I’ve got a trophy from coming in first in a math competition in the 4th grade. I have some gold medals from Russian essay contents (I wrote about how the world would be a better place if everyone owned a duck. In Russian. My vocabulary was very limited. To this day, all I remember is “Da, ootka!” (Yes, a duck!)). And I have a gymnastics trophy for absolutely nothing.

I mean, nothing. Still, to this day, I don’t know why I have it. I certainly wasn’t any good. There weren’t even any competitions. There was just a trophy. So, basically, I was rewarded for sucking. Or, if you want to be more polite about it, rewarded for showing up. Or, if you INSIST, rewarded for effort.

So I’ve got a trophy for doing better in math than the entire 4th grade at my school. And I’ve got a medal for writing an entire essay in RUSSIAN WHICH LET ME TELL YOU IS NOT A GD PICNIC.

And? I’ve got a “Thanks for bothering” trophy.

If the reward is handed out for exerting the effort required to PUT ON PANTS AND APPEAR, what’s the point in doing more than that?

I understand these kinds of trophies are handed out so that everyone is equal and no one feels bad about differing levels of skill and no one gets any hurt feelings.

But kids are handed TROPHIES for SHOWING UP. Sitting next to my math trophy (SHUT UP, you’re reading/writing blogs, people, so it’s not like you’re exactly top of the non-nerd heap here) and my Russian medal is a “Hey, way to wake up on Saturday mornings” gymnastics trophy.

I SUCKED at gymnastics. I mean, I sucked out loud. There is a reason I have suffered multiple comparisons to muppets in my life, and it’s not my colorful fur. But there was no “When you improve here, here and here, we’ll give you a little “Most Improved” ribbon,” or “When you are BETTER than someone, you can have an award indicating your achievement.” Nope. Just “Thanks for coming, here’s your prize.”

What motivation is there to get any better?

Which brings me to my future hypothetical child(ren). There will be all kinds of activities that said future hypothetical child(ren) will be eligible to do. Baseball. Soccer. Art classes. Dance classes. Singing classes. Tons of stuff. No matter how good or bad they are at something, they will be welcomed. There are three possible outcomes of joining these groups that I see:

1. They will suck at the activity and not want to continue the next year.
2. They will suck at the activity, love it anyway, and want to continue on as long as possible.
3. They will be like the KING of that shit.

Any of these outcomes would be fine with me. As for 1 and 2, fact is, not all kids are good at everything. And telling all kids that they’re all good at everything makes them actually believe that. And it will make them very sad one day when they find out they’re not. I prefer any future hypothetical child(ren) of mine find out they’re crap at something right away, rather than have smoke blown up their ass their whole lives.

I mean, what if my kid loves to sing, but totally BLOWS at it? I mean, really bad. And I have to listen to it?

In that case, I would LIKE to be able to say, “I understand that you love to sing. Let’s look into getting you some lessons to develop your voice or skills.”

But if someone has already just handed them a trophy for showing up some big… sing… thing (I don’t know? Maybe singing was a bad example?), how am I supposed to tell them that the trophy is kind of a fake? How do you tell your kid, a terrible, TERRIBLE singer, that the singing trophy they have is in no way an indicator of any skill or accomplishment? How to tell them that they do indeed need lessons? And they’re not as good as a shiny gold trophy may indicate?

You do what I’m going to do.

I shall create two trophy shelves. Trophies and awards handed out for winning something, being better than everyone else at something, or any kind of measurable, notable accomplishment will go on one shelf.

Trophies passed out because I dragged the kid and some sliced oranges to soccer practice and games once a week for a couple of months, only to watch them sit on their ass on the sidelines because they hate it so much (that was me!), or given to everyone so regularly that the cost of their trophy is actually built in to the registration for the sport or whatever, will go on a second shelf.

And that second shelf will be prominently labeled “SHMOPHIES.”

The lessons I hope to impart to future hypothetical child(ren):

1. Not everyone is good at everything, and

2. if you bring home a Shmophie, it’s going on the Shmophie shelf.

Shmophies don’t do anyone any favors. Relate that to blogging as you will.

36 Responses to “The second, lesser-discussed shelf”

  1. By Anna on Oct 22, 2009

    This is kind of how I feel about those “blog award” meme bullshit things…

    [Reply]

  2. By Adlib on Oct 22, 2009

    Absolutely awesome. I agree whole-heartedly!

    Especially your closing line: “Shmophies don’t do anyone any favors.” Exactly!

    [Reply]

  3. By Kelly on Oct 22, 2009

    Good for you! Your future hypothetical child(ren) will be better people for your distinguishing between trophies and shmophies.

    [Reply]

  4. By Awlbiste on Oct 22, 2009

    What about, “it’s totally okay to be mediocre at something as long as you like it and realize that fact”? There is a lot of stuff I like to do but realize I am middling to suck-level at, but I don’t kid myself and think I’m King Shit, though I still like to do it.

    [Reply]

  5. By Awlbiste on Oct 22, 2009

    Although I’ve never won any trophies for anything. So maybe I’m middling to suck-level at most things. That’s still okay with me.

    [Reply]

  6. By TJ on Oct 22, 2009

    Awlbiste – I’m definitely not saying “If you suck at something, don’t do it” or that you are required to improve when you’re happy with where you’re at.

    I’m saying that handing out awards and praise simply for the sake of handing out awards and praise, when nothing has been done to merit it doesn’t send a good message to kids or anyone at all.

    I suck at cooking. Hardcore. But I make edible stuff for Phil and I to eat. I’m not going to tell me to stop, but I would flat out laugh at someone who praised my crappier dishes and say “Get the fuck outta here” to anyone who tried to give me a TROPHY for my efforts.

    [Reply]

  7. By Becky on Oct 22, 2009

    They just had an episode of Momversation about this (my nerd level just increased about 10-fold for admitting to watching that stuff, didn’t it?). And the general consensus among the moms was what you are saying – shmophies don’t do anyone any favors (and it creates a lot of clutter).

    [Reply]

  8. By shriek house on Oct 22, 2009

    You may be relieved (or annoyed) to know there is an entire school of thought devoted to this very idea, made famous and controversial mostly by this:

    http://bit.ly/43YZht

    [Reply]

  9. By Calamity Jill on Oct 22, 2009

    ‘Non-nerd heap’ just made me laugh inexcusably loud.

    [Reply]

  10. By Maerdred on Oct 22, 2009

    I see where you’re coming from. My nephew is involved in sports where everyone gets a trophy, but they get bigger the better you do, so the kids always want the biggest trophy. BIGGER IS BETTER! So it gives them incentive to get better.

    [Reply]

  11. By Tracey on Oct 22, 2009

    This is genius. All I’m saying.

    [Reply]

  12. By Shin Ae on Oct 22, 2009

    I think I’m happy I don’t know what this post is really about. I’m the kid that didn’t even know there were trophies, much less know that she wasn’t eligible for one.

    [Reply]

  13. By Shin Ae on Oct 22, 2009

    That was one awkwardly stated comment, but you get my drift.

    [Reply]

  14. By Aunt Becky on Oct 22, 2009

    Not everyone can be an astronaut. Like me. Shit, I can barely walk, let alone get into fucking space. I think you need a DEGREE for that.

    OH and I have a blog award for you.

    *runs away snickering and ducking*

    (Da, ootka!)

    This better get me an award for best comment ever.

    [Reply]

  15. By Pablo on Oct 22, 2009

    Best idea ever.

    The funny thing is that the parents of the participants universally loath shmophies, yet it continues. No one asks the kids, no one asks the parents, but the hand-wringers running the show universally make these decisions.

    note to youth sports organizers:
    The kids still keep score.
    They still know who won and lost.
    They can figure out if they sucked or not.
    Shmophies actually make them feel gypped if they kicked ass and got the same trophy as the guys who sucked.

    [Reply]

  16. By TJ on Oct 22, 2009

    Internet, where are your critical reading skills?

    This is a deep and layered commentary on the state of blogging.

    Obviously, my extended metaphors need work.

    [Reply]

  17. By Shin Ae on Oct 22, 2009

    Okay, I mean, I get that this is about some blog award thing but I guess I didn’t even realize there were blog awards, much less consider that my blog would be considered for an award, however shmophiesh, since I think only two people read it. My point: I’m not sure anyone even knows I’m participating. And I’m definitely sure I had no idea there were shmophies. Or drama.

    [Reply]

    TJ Reply:

    There isn’t drama, and it’s not about blog awards (those meme things that people pass around at random? Whatevs.)

    The point is, not everyone is good at everything. And that includes blogging.

    Because so many of us are so eager to be part of certain circles or cliques, because so many of us want to generate and preserve traffic to our own sites, because so many of us are hesitant to say a single negative thing, even in the form of constructive criticism to another blogger so as not to be labeled the mean ones, many bloggers are being consistently rewarded for what is essentially “showing up.”

    EVERYONE is entitled to have a blog. Everyone is entitled to write whatever they want, whenever they want. However, if we are looking to enrich and improve the community, mindless “{{{HUGS!!}}}” and “Great post!” comments do not do anyone any favors.

    [Reply]

  18. By Phil on Oct 22, 2009

    Is the gist you are trying to put forth something along the lines of…

    If you’re a blogger, award memes are BS?

    If you’re a blogger, that you aren’t a good one automatically?

    If you’re a blogger, that you all need to work on your writing?

    Am I warm?

    [Reply]

  19. By Shin Ae on Oct 22, 2009

    Oooh, sorry. Like I said, more than a little clueless about the state of the blogging world. I guess most of the time I ignore comments other than my own so haven’t picked up on all that.

    I’m pretty aware, though, that for some reason I could not stop commenting on this post,what the heck? Maybe it’s the beer?

    [Reply]

    TJ Reply:

    It is the calm and soothing colors of my comment section. They make you want to kick off your shoes and stay awhile.

    Anyway, since Twitter forced me into a more succinct explanation of what I was trying to say, here it is in less than 140 characters:

    http://twitter.com/TemerityJane/status/5084902489

    [Reply]

  20. By Becky on Oct 22, 2009

    Wow. Yah, I totally didn’t get it (although now I do, I think). And I totally put myself in the group of people that blog that aren’t real good at it, and I agree – I don’t want people leaving me comments about a “great post” if it isn’t.

    [Reply]

  21. By Shin Ae on Oct 22, 2009

    Wow! That was succinct! Good status!

    [Reply]

  22. By Swistle on Oct 22, 2009

    I once read a post by a blogger who was saying that blogging had totally improved her confidence because now she knew that most people supported her ideas. And I was like, “….Uh. You realize that by the natural sifting and clicks-through-compliments nature of blogginess we are surrounded by yes-men? Right? Opinions in the comment section may be smaller than they appear? Right?”

    Also, your surface layer is too interesting not to comment on. There’s also a #4: the kid is good at it, but drops it because of a lack of interest. We let the firstborn take clarinet because he wanted to, and we’d expected him to suck, and we were delighted that he did not suck, and he disliked it and dropped out after the agreed-upon minimum enrollment time (one year), and oh we were so disappointed.

    [Reply]

    TJ Reply:

    Swistle – I do believe you have gotten caught in my drift. Or however that saying goes.

    Also, I am sad that I had to harp so much on people not getting the REAL point of the post, because the idea of making my kids put their participation trophies on a separate SHMOPHIES shelf is, frankly, hilarious.

    Your 4th category is indeed one I missed, and can, in fact apply to bloggers as well. Lots of good ones have packed it in.

    And some good ones (one) have come back! Hooray, Miss Doxie!

    [Reply]

  23. By Lara on Oct 22, 2009

    I used to try to keep up with all the big name blogs but I realized there are some big names I really just don’t enjoy, so I stopped reading them. I really don’t care if they win a zillion awards or thrown parties all the fan-wanks want to go to, if I don’t enjoy their work, I don’t enjoy their work. I always want to be aware of everything that’s going on so I still read a few I could probably live without, but I’m launching operation reduce unread (ahem) count this weekend. First order of business is unsubscribing to blogs I don’t LOVE, based on my opinion and my opinion only.

    I’m probably missing the point too but I wanted to comment since your recent tweets have made me think about commenting and how I’d rather have time to support bloggers I truly enjoy rather than spending that time reading ones I just think I *should* be enjoying.

    [Reply]

    TJ Reply:

    @Lara – Yes, exactly!

    GOD why can’t I say words like other people say words!

    [Reply]

  24. By Leah on Oct 22, 2009

    Brilliant subtext (and…super?text?), and points well taken, however I think different people are into blogging for different reasons, just like, say, kids are into singing or soccer or whatever for different reasons, and that to hold everyone to one standard of Good and Bad isn’t very…I don’t know…effective? Some kids take ice skating because they want to train for the Olympics, and some take it because that’s what all the cool girls are doing, and some take it because they want to wear the sparkly unitards. Likewise, some people blog to write, some to get rich and famous, and some to gather around themselves a bunch of yes-(wo)men that “improve their confidence.”

    There have absolutely been times where I’ve rolled my eyes at blog awards or super-special-invite-only parties or people who think they should be making a living as bloggers when they, in fact, suck big time and long time. But…if they have people standing around throwing shmophies at them for just showing up? And that makes them feel proud and part of an appreciative community? I don’t know…I guess I just wouldn’t want to take that small glory away from them because sometimes the shmophies are all they have, you know?

    (Thus endeth the longest first-timer comment ever.)

    [Reply]

    TJ Reply:

    I absolutely agree with what you’re saying, and I absolutely think that this was a d-bag post of me to write, but I’m going to be a d-bag parent and I’m a d-bag in general, so, you know, there’s that.

    I don’t disagree, necessarily, with the idea of Shmophies. What I disagree with is the intent behind them (in some cases) and the attitudes they generate (in some cases).

    That is – when Shmophies are given because you want to work your way into a certain blogging circle, because you feel like “If I don’t comment on theirs, they won’t comment on mine,” or to maintain some sort of false reputation, I disagree with them.

    And also – when an abundance of Shmophies has given someone an inflated sense of their own greatness and a clearly displayed sense of blogger entitlement, I roll my eyes.

    It’s gotten to the point that they’re predictable. Any post discussing a hard topic will not only garner praise on how strong the writer is, but also what a talented writer they are. In some cases, that is true. But in many, it just rings false. Writing about a hard subject isn’t automatically good writing, but we’re conditioned to praise the quality of the writing itself as a knee jerk reaction whenever someone tackles a hard subject. (Just an example)

    Is there anything wrong with that? In the grand scheme of things, no. But rather than hand out empty praise because it’s what “everyone is doing,” I’d rather comment on the topic itself, and save my praise for skillful writing for someone who is actually a skillful writer. (Again, example)

    Anyone can write anything they want for any reason. I fully support that. It may be snobby or exclusive to say, but some bloggers are extremely talented writers, and the praise I may want to give them is cheapened if I hand the same words to anyone who tackles a tough topic. Some bloggers put a lot of hard work into being original, articulate, funny, etc and I don’t think that giving the same kind of attention to them as I give to someone who totally bites their style to be fair to either party. My words ring hollow to the talented, while the ones who could be encouraged to be “better” bloggers (whether in writing, originality, community participation or any number of things) feel no drive to improve because they’ve got tons of Shmophies telling them they don’t have to.

    I had a point in here, and I hope you could see it, because I think I lost it way back in the longest reply to a first-timer comment ever.

    My point is, I think, that … everyone is free to do what they want. But… not everyone is good at everything.

    [Reply]

    Lara Reply:

    Leah, I’m totally stealing “I’m just in it for the sparkly unitard” for my next tagline.

    I’m upgrading my blog right now because I want a new header and theme and plugins and other sparkly bits. I’m a geek, yes.

    I don’t write often enough for it to be about the Olympic content, I don’t promote it enough to be concerned about the cool girls noticing.

    It’s all about the sparkly unitard, baby.

    [Reply]

  25. By Phil on Oct 22, 2009

    Aww, I was wrong.

    Well, even if I am surrounded by yes men, they’re MY yes men and my friends(as far as I know) and ergo, I am happy.

    :D

    [Reply]

  26. By Leah on Oct 22, 2009

    Yes, I know EXACTLY what you mean. I can think of a handful of people who have “earned” (although that’s the wrong word) reputations as good writers when they’re…really not. (And as a snob about these things, yes, I am an authority. (We should form a club! A Blog Snob club!)) Some of those people are strong or likable or pretty or whatever, and I think that sometimes commenters say “good writing” to mean those other things, not “you have a talent with words and I bow down before you.”

    And I most definitely think it cheapens the good stuff–the really truly brilliant writing/writers out there–when praise is thrown at the mediocre stuff just as often (or at the “brave” and “hard” stuff that may very well be brave and hard and yet doesn’t deserve the “good writing” ribbons pinned on it).

    Maybe this is why I hardly ever comment on the majority of blogs I read and why I drool all over a few of them because they’re Just! So! Good! Flukes happen, yes, and brilliance can appear in a flash and then be gone, but in general, I think, great writing comes out of great writers, and those people are usually great most of the time, whether they’re writing about hard stuff or about picking their boogers. And I make a special effort to give trophies to the well-written posts about boogers because that shit takes some serious talent.

    [Reply]

  27. By Swistle on Oct 23, 2009

    All right, I have thought of something else. It is this: that they DO think it’s good writing. That they really DO think so, and that’s why they say so. I think blogging is just like social interactions, where the people who gather the most friends/supporters/admirers are not necessarily the ones who are “best at being friends” or “best at talking.” They just have something that makes other people admire/support them.

    Another point is that I don’t think the idea of training people to write better through a series of rewards is going to work. I don’t think enough people are qualified trainers.

    [Reply]

  1. 3 Trackback(s)

  2. Oct 24, 2009: the sparkly unitard « purplelara
  3. Dec 30, 2009: Temerity Jane » Blog Archive » Things I Got for Christmas, Part 2 – A Game
  4. Jan 29, 2010: Lady Jess » Blog Archive » My Own Worst Enemy?

Post a Comment