Alphabetic insanity

My little brother was in the regional spelling bee this morning. Sitting there during the first round, I watched each kid get up to the mike and wait for their word to hit them. Some words were easy. Some, though, were hard, and most of the time their not-so-lucky recipients missed them. Out on the first round. What a way to be. And I realized that spelling bees are, in a way, a mild form of child abuse.

I’m mostly joking. But really, why do we put our kids through this stressful insanity? What on earth does it prove? Childhood is a time to be carefree, to enjoy life, to play. Not to get caught up in our adult games of competition and comparison. If we have spelling bees at all (and I’m sure most of you realize that English is one of the very few languages where they’re even possible), they should be for adults, of their own free will and choice. But kids get pushed into them by their parents, directly or indirectly, and it hurts me to watch them get up there on stage only to get shattered.

Perhaps I’m a bit oversensitive to this, since I myself was in a handful of spelling bees back when I was a kid. My first year I went to state and took fifth place, falling out on “differentiation.” My second year, though, I somehow managed to win, and Deseret News sent me and my parents to D.C. for a week to compete in the national spelling bee.

The experience was worth it, certainly — it was my first time on an airplane (I was twelve), the first time I was old enough to enjoy the East Coast, and they put us up in the Grand Hyatt which was by far the biggest hotel I’d ever been in. :) But in the second round the stage fright got to me, and when the pronouncer said “collards,” my brain shut down. I asked for a definition; where collards are actually leafy green vegetables, somehow I thought that the pronouncer had said they had something to do with stacking crates in a warehouse. Panic struck and I brainlessly spelled them “colards,” which made no sense to me then or now.

That horrible bell dinged its fateful tone and I shuffled off stage to the cry room, where a lady sat with boxes of animal crackers. Not interested in consolation, I brushed past her, slipped out the back door, and went up to my hotel room where I sobbed for a good while. Eventually I got hold of myself and went back down to the bee room, where I slipped into the chair next to my parents and tried not to think about all my dreams of winning that had just popped out of existence. Life went on, as it always does.

While I don’t really regret all the time I put into studying and spelling, I’m still wondering what purpose the spelling bee serves. To add stress to the lives of parents and children around the country? To prove that my kid is smarter than your kid? If it’s to appreciate the joys and beauties of language, well, heck, you can do that from the comfort of your own home.

Granted, I’ve completely lost my competitive drive over the past few years, so that surely has something to do with how I feel about this, but I really don’t want to put my kids through any spelling bees. Or other activities of a competitive nature, wherever I can avoid it. The only real use I can come up with for them, anyway, is in preparation for war, and I don’t know if I really need to be preparing my kids for that. :) What ever happened to “love one another”? I don’t want my kids comparing themselves to other kids and getting superiority or inferiority complexes.

But I suspect that there probably are advantages to competition (compatible with the gospel, of course). Since I don’t know what they are, please enlighten me, dear readers. :)

I think competition is good because it pushes you to be better than you might be otherwise (sure you could learn language or other skills at home, but would you be as motivated as you might be if you were going to use them in a competition?), helps you set goals and have something to work for, and teaches you skills (like being in front of an audience, in this case), and gives you experiences (like you going to the East Coast) that just might not come in any other way. Competition also gives you a chance to practice being a good sport both as a winner and as a loser and, in some cases, to work on a team.

Yeah, I think it can be positive, just like any other kind of competition, just as long as the participants don’t lose perspective. And whether it’s child abuse? Maybe, if they taunt you with all your misspelled words… :)

My list of shame:
Cirrocumulus
Inviolable
Shoal

This is my favorite quote on the subject of competition:

“Twelve years ago President Ezra Taft Benson delivered a powerful conference address declaring that pride is ‘the universal sin, the great vice.’ He taught that pride is essentially competitive in nature and made reference to this quote from C. S. Lewis: ‘Pride gets no pleasure out of having something, only out of having more of it than the next man. We say that people are proud of being rich, or clever, or good-looking, but they are not. They are proud of being richer, cleverer, or better-looking than others. If every one else became equally rich, or clever, or good-looking there would be nothing to be proud about. It is the comparison that makes you proud: the pleasure of being above the rest. Once the element of competition has gone, pride has gone.’ What an interesting commentary on today’s highly competitive and thus prideful world. What an important reminder as well, for those of us who are blessed with the fulness of the gospel, to avoid both the condition and appearance of haughtiness or condescension in all of our human relationships.”

Marlin K. Jensen, “‘To Walk Humbly with Thy God’,” Ensign, May 2001, 9

While I think Janssen is right that competition can lead us to become better at certain skills and to set goals, I think that in the long run competition becomes rather problematic. If competition is one’s chief motivation, it not only leads to pride, as Marlin K. Jensen warns, but it tends to restrict one’s progression because what becomes most important is not doing one’s best but rather being better than other people. I found my own feelings of competition in school to be rather limiting–as long as I was getting the best grades, I was satisfied (and self-satisfied). This made me lose sight of the real goal, which was to develop my talents and educate my mind. On the other hand, I don’t know how motivated I would have been in some of my classes if my competitive feelings hadn’t been a factor. Which makes me wonder if it’s better to achieve something with not-so-good motivations or to not achieve something…

Hmm this sounds familiar…

I started studying piano when I was 4 years old because, well, I asked for lessons. I was very adept, learned very quickly, and loved it. When my second piano teacher retired and moved out west, she referred us to a very competitive teacher who had studios in Japan, California, and New York. My sister and I started to study with her, and things sort of took off, without us really knowing it. My sister got put on the back burner, so to speak, and my teacher poured everything into my development. Steinway Hall debut at 10, symphony debut at 12…

…physical therapy at 13, and a complete burn-out at 14. Thus ended my piano career. I took less than first place only once in all my many competitions. It was a respectable second, and I had lost my right thumbnail to a car door the night before. I still have what I consider a pretty remarkable knack for sitting down and sight-reading just about anything at a piano. I have trophies, plaques, a music dictionary, a substantial collection of printed music, all the spoils of my efforts. But those years were the most miserable of my life.

We tried to justify it in our family as “excellence for the sake of excellence.” We never, ever say that anymore. What were we thinking? It doesn’t even make sense. I’m with you on this one, Ben. My mom realized it was time for us to back out of the piano world when, after a stellar performance with a symphony, I sat in my dressing room next to piles of flowers, cradling my hurt arm, staring off into the corner with glazed eyes, muttering, “I don’t ever want to do this again.” Competition can eat the souls of children. In my opinion, most adults shouldn’t be subjected to that kind of punishment.

I come from musical roots, and I think my father wanted to see me embody the tradition his mother had tried so hard to establish with her children. Basically, I had to be the best of all the grandchildren. Kind of insane, but not maliciously done. Now, though, we are all regrets. I’m grateful, though, that my three youngest sisters now have the opportunity to study piano for the fun of it. They love to sit down and play with and for each other. I only really like playing when I’m by myself, with no one around. That still makes me sad.

Wow sorry to vent on here but I think my story supplements what you’re talking about?

*Please* tell me you’ve heard some songs from “25th Annual Putnam County Spelling Bee”. Please please please. Some of the songs you won’t appreciate, but some of them . . . *dies*.

I never did the spelling bee thing. I’m a decent speller but I can’t spell out loud. Never have been able to. But I did go through a bunch of competitive type sports/events when I was younger. I did Gymnastics, dance, theater . . . etc. etc. etc. Sometimes I won, sometimes I didn’t. I think the role of parents in this kind of thing is really important - because activities like this are good for kids. I think parents need to a) follow their kid’s lead within reason: pay attention to what they are interested in and want to do. I was switching all the time. The only guideline I had was that once I started something, I had to see it through to the end of the season/performance/whatever and b) not make it too serious. Kids change their minds - most of the time my sister loves to play the piano but sometimes she doesn’t. That doesn’t mean she’s allowed to quit - but we don’t put too much pressure on her to do better than everyone. She does enough of that herself. You just have to remind your kids/siblings/self that you should only “compete” against yourself. Easier said than done sometimes. I mean - I haven’t been cast in a show for over a year in spite of the many auditions I’ve been to. Two years ago I was cast in *everything* I auditioned for. Such is life. It’s a valuable lesson to learn. I don’t regret it.

I will say though - stage moms irritate me. Let your kids be kids. I completely agree.

Having never been a spelling champion myself, I say, down with non-phonetic spelling! Your story was so sad and funny. Thanks for sharing. :)

Competition, hmmmm… it kinda sucks doesn’t it? But no one evolved by being a cooperator. Or did they?

I have never done well in a spelling bee. In 7th grade, I got out on the work succor. (I spelled it sucker, and promptly felt like one.)

However, you really have to see the movie “Spellbound.” It’s about the national spelling bee and it is amazing!! I’d have to say that it is among the best movies ever created.

In fourth grade, at age 8, I was first in my county, and then went to a regional bee (one level before state). I got out on the word paunchy (I spelled it p-o-n-c-h-y). I can’t remember my exact rank, but I got a trophy, so I couldn’t have done half bad. Most people got medals. My dad bought me a Calvin and Hobbes book as a reward. Or maybe a consolation prize.

I had done spelling bees before that, but that was the end of my career. I have no recollection now as to how exactly I ended up never participating in one again. Perhaps my parents were wise enough not to push me. I only took it as far as my natural talent went. I never really studied. I just read a lot and knew a lot of words, I guess.

By the way, I think Thai would actually be a very good language for spelling bees. Plenty of homophones and pronunciation variations and exceptions to the rules. :)

Spelling bees are no worse than kids’ sports, really. It’s only fair, though, to give the non-athletically-inclined parents a way to live vicariously through their kids. :P

The worst form of legal child abuse is probably children’s beauty pageants. Exhibit A: Little Miss Sunshine. My favorite movie of 2006.

Little Miss Sunshine rocked my world! That’s how to take competition by the horns.

Janssen: A good list of advantages. I suppose my main question then becomes, are there better ways to get the same result without resorting to competition? Other sources of motivation that are equally as strong? Goals for a higher purpose than that of being better than someone else? You can be in front of an audience in a non-competitive setting (like sacrament meeting, even :)) and learn just as much. I agree that it’s important to be a good sport, but what if there weren’t even such things as winners and losers? If we were all in this together? Granted, the world is going to be competitive, but I don’t know, I want to avoid it as much as possible. (Even with war, I’d want my children to do their best to love the enemy in spite of all the pressure in the other direction. I don’t want hate cankering their hearts.)

DL: This is completely unscientific, but my guess is that most participants do lose perspective, at least for some amount of time. But I could be wrong. :)

Katherine: Agreed. It’s so much less stressful to throw comparisons out and just focus on the thing at hand, whether it be painting or poetry or pneumatic robots.

Hilary: Amen. A perfect illustration — thanks for sharing!

Joni: Alas, I haven’t, but now you’ve piqued my interest. :) I agree that the activities themselves are good for kids, but it’s the element of competition that I think sometimes gets in the way. Yes, it does make people try harder, but at what cost? Isn’t it better to try harder for a more spiritually sound reason, not to one-up somebody else? (I suppose I should add that I’m echoing what you said, not refuting it. :))

Ali: Cooperation is the foundation of society, isn’t it? If you’ve only got competition, you end up with solitary, roving fighters who don’t last long because that’s not how humans survive. We cluster and group into masses, and that takes cooperation. I’d say that the cooperation has far more to do with any peaks of civilization than competition ever did.

Xister: Ah, yes, Spellbound. Good flick. :)

Rikker: Oh, I don’t think spelling bees are worse than kids’ sports. I think they’re both bad. :P (Bad in the sense of pushing kids more than they ought to be pushed. If the kid wants to do it, more power to ‘em. But I suspect in most cases it’s the parents driving the kid.)

I have thought often about this idea of competition. It seems that it drives most of our education system as well. We must be better than the rest (or even better than ourselves). Either way, always proving our standing (A student, B student, etc). I teach at a small-town high school that lacks in the competition department, you could say. Not that there aren’t your standard A or B students, but in the grand state or national scheme, we don’t compete. Anyhow, I have often had conversations with other teachers at my school who lament this fact. They want us to be nationally competitive. They see the fault in our school being largely due to the lack of intense academic competition. I see their point, up to a point. I sometimes wonder what it would be like to live in a world where we didn’t jump (or push or pull) ourselves through hoops. A world where people genuinely care about learning, for learning’s sake (enjoyment, wonder, excitement). Do we have to pit ourselves against each other in a vicious cycle of competition to love words (in the spelling bee) or numbers or whatever? How can we instill in children a thirst for learning without the competition? How can we help them excel in a class despite whatever grade they end up with? What on earth should we be doing with our education system that focuses on the means (learning) instead of end (the grade or state core test results)? Sigh. The idealist in me is sure it is possible. I just don’t quite yet know how to make it happen.

Agreed — it’s got to be possible, but I have no idea how it could happen. The realist in me suspects it will never actually happen, at least in this life. Which is why I’m excited for heaven (among other reasons ;)).