Overheard, Discouraging High School Edition

Yesterday afternoon, in a soaking freezing spring rain, I sat alone in a wet stadium chair and watched 30 minutes of Kid 2’s track meet. I watched kids run their guts out in 100 meter increments. I watched them pump and stride and hustle past. I was proud to be there, proud to know so many of those strong, fast kids.

And then one of them, a young lady I’ve gotten to know a little through school, came up into the stands. She stopped a couple of rows above me, a couple of rows below her parents, laughed, and said, “Did you see? I came in third.”

And I sat on my hands so I wouldn’t clap for her. She wasn’t talking to me, after all.

And I heard her dad do a “Pssht” noise. He said, “Third from LAST, there were only five girls in your heat.”

I shook rain out of my ear, hoping I’d heard wrong. The young woman laughed it off, shrugged her shoulders and hopped down the cold metal steps of the bleachers.

Is it possible that girl knows she ran fast? That she is good, strong, capable, even if two other beautiful, strong, capable girls outran her in the freezing rain? I hope she knows. Young lady, I hope you know. You ran like a beast. Good hustle. Way to push yourself. And to her dad, is it possible that you don’t know what a soul-crushing thing it is to speak words like that to your little girl? To anybody? Ever? Shame on you. I wish I’d had the guts and the crazy to turn around, walk up several steps, and tell it to you yesterday. I am proud of your daughter for doing a hard thing. I wish it mattered to her what I think, but how can it? I am a vague, shadowy adult on the outer periphery of her world. An occasional substitute teacher. YOU ARE HER FATHER and you made her accomplishment worth nothing. Shame on you.

I recommit now to be more vocal in congratulating the kids who work hard and the dads who support them.