Some are born great
This week has been W’s week. W was “crowned” student of the week at her middle school (not really crowned–just a free t-shirt and vouchers for Buffalo Wild Wings), performed in a select orchestra concert Thursday night, and received 1st place in the music composition category in the PTA Reflections contest (again). A trifecta of achievement.
The line from Shakespeare’s play Twelfth Night came to my mind this week as we bustled through all of W’s events:
“Some are born great, some achieve greatness, and some have greatness thrust upon them.”
In some ways W falls under all three categories. I’ve always felt like she’s been my miracle baby since day 1. She’s always been the no fuss, low maintenance kid in the background of J’s drama, meltdowns, and appointments–she was literally born pretty great. She’s also my high achiever. She’s naturally really talented. She picks up music and instruments very quickly, she’s always got a book in front of her, and she’s got this incredible wealth of knowledge about Ancient Egypt, the Roman Empire, Greek and Roman Mythology. She loves science and has all of these quirky (especially biology) facts she’s always spitting out. She always gets good marks on her report cards. She is constantly “achieving greatness.” And then there’s the fact that she is the sister of a special needs brother. She shoulders a lot of responsibility (because we literally need her to be responsible). She navigates the social scene at school pretty well, especially the title of being “J’s sister.” She never asked for all of that responsibility. That was just thrust upon her.
But because “being born great and achieving greatness” has been a part of her life for as long as she can remember, and because everything comes so naturally easily to her, it can be a blessing AND a curse. Don’t get me wrong, W has plenty of struggles too–being J’s little sister is a huge struggle at times–but for the most part, W hasn’t had to really struggle or work at anything. In fact, I’ve been really frustrated about this recently because being a grown up, I know that talent can only get you so far. When you get out into the big world (and somewhere bigger than Fargo) you’ll find out that there are loads of talented people–most of them just as talented or more talented than you. And the only way you can separate yourself from that large pool of talented people is your drive and work ethic.
But we might have had a little shift in that “greatness” dimension this week. This week was a little reminder of how important working hard can be too.
Much to J’s delight this week was also the first week of track practice. Unlike cross country J’s Winter Running group of super talented runners is off training for high school track meets and J and W are training with the middle school (with the rest of the grade 7 and 8 kids) to train for the middle school track meets. And there’s been a little bit of a dynamics shift. Now the middle school veteran XC runners are the “leaders of the pack.” There’s also way more girls on the distance team than boys (I’m not sure why). And the boys and girls all train together. Which means J and W are now training together too.
Ever since winter running ended almost a month ago, J has been chomping at the bit to run. And he was sure ready that first day. So ready in fact, that he ran faster than all of the girls and half of the 7th grade boys (J is the only 8th grade boy training with the middle school this year). At one point in the run, I realized that we had a new problem on our hands. J doesn’t know how to pass people. All of his running career, we’ve been urging him to try to “run and keep up with someone.” This is the first time he’s actually been faster than the people in front of him, and so me (along with some really fabulous kids on the track team) have to remind him, “J you can go around if you need too.”
There’s no doubt in my mind that all of those cold, awful, windy days of winter running have given J that seemingly out-of-nowhere edge he didn’t have before. Winter running–that training and work ethic–paid off. Now that all of the snow and ice is gone, you can visibly see it. And on the way home from practice I couldn’t keep gushing on how amazed I was that J ran so well.
W sat quiet the whole way home, then finally said. “I did winter running. I didn’t improve as much as J.”
I didn’t know what to say–well, I knew what to say–I just didn’t know how to say it. This was finally a work ethic reality check for W, and I didn’t know how to talk to her about it. Running is one of the few things that doesn’t come naturally to her. It’s part of the reason why Steve and I wanted her to join XC and track. We knew it was something she would have to work at–and we knew that learning how to really work at something is a lesson we want her to learn.
“J has been running longer than you,” I said.
“But I did Winter Running too,” she insisted.
“How many weeks did you do Winter Running?” I asked. “Two, maybe three?”
I knew she wasn’t happy with me when I said that.
“J was out there every day. For three and a half months. No matter how cold it was. He went out there and put in the mileage. That’s the thing about running, W. You have to put in the mileage to build endurance and speed.”
It’s a hard balance I have with her. I am very aware that she lives a very different life than most of her peers because of the autism factor. I am also very aware that she came to this planet with a lot of talent and a lot of potential, and I’m very aware that she could be so much more if she had the work ethic to go with it. I try really hard not to compare my kids (and for the most part, there really isn’t a comparison. It’s like comparing apples to oranges).
“Even though J has disabilities, it’s kind of cool to see how he can work hard and he can get better at things too,” I said.
I don’t think I won any mom points on the way home. But I’ve been thinking back about this little conversation we had. Being “able and privileged” makes me lazy and complacent sometimes too. I look at all the hard work J has to put into every single thing, things I don’t even have to think twice about, and I see how I don’t always react to him in the ways I should. I have those bad mom moments where I accuse him of being lazy or unfocused after we’ve spent an hour on homework. I forget how hard he has to work on processing things sometimes. I forget how much harder J has to work for everything than anyone else in our house. J doesn’t have the luxury of developing myriad of talents. He’s just really trying to master learning and life skills.
“Some are born great, some achieve greatness, and some have greatness thrust upon them.”
I just hope I can instill in both my kids that no matter what cards life deals you, as long as you work your hardest with what you’ve got, you’ll be great no matter what.
