When is it good to say good enough is good enough?

Last time, I was talking about the astounding level of mediocrity that I find in my classroom.  I’m not just talking about the things they don’t know—like my World History student who thinks that Christianity has its roots in the teachings of Confucius.

Seriously.

No, I’m talking about the level of effort I see—and the level of effort that is rewarded.

What can I do to teach my own kids to be more than mediocre?  I don’t want them to end up like so many I see, cruising through life on autopilot and thinking that they are entitled to that which they haven’t earned.  I’ve been thinking about it a lot lately, now that Alec and Carissa are firmly ensconced in teenagerdom.  The process of character formation has kicked into high gear, and I don’t have all that much time left to teach them to be grownups.  Here’s what I’ve come up with so far.

First, you have to lead the way out of mediocrity. You can’t take a “Do as I say, not as I do,” approach to this.  If your children see you living a “Good Enough” life, they’ll think that’s good enough.

It’s not good enough.

Not for them.

Not for you.

So, tell me—what are you doing to live a stellar life?  What are you doing to live a life, “Worthy of the calling you have received?”  I must admit, this is tough for me.  One of my efforts to get beyond the mediocre is this blog.  Lately, my rate of posting has dropped off.  That’s not a strategic move—I’m just busy and tired and consumed by the tyranny of the urgent.

Hmmm…too tired to pursue my dreams…not the example I want to set for my kids.  That one hits a little too close to home, so let me move on for now.

The second thing you need to do is come alongside your child.  Most people aren’t born goal setters and planners.  Left to ourselves, the bulk of us will look no farther into the future than lunchtime.   Your kids are probably no different.  They have to be challenged and taught how to meet those challenges.  That’s where you come in.  When Alec and I went on our Pedal to the Sea, we didn’t begin with a full-blown vision. It was a whim that sparked a question that grew into a desire that became a dream that cast a vision that named a goal that developed a plan that produced a victory.  We did it together.

There comes a time when you have to do more than lead or teach.  You have to get behind your child and shove.  Figuratively, and sometimes literally. If you help them set a goal that is a real stretch, they will sometimes balk.  That’s when you must be their parent and not their buddy.  That’s when you’ve got to get pushy.  We have some dear friends whose son was aiming for Eagle Scout.  Because it was a worthy goal with many benefits, his parents didn’t let him give up—even when he was sick of it.  I would imagine he found that annoying at times.  He may have even resented it.

But now he’s an Eagle Scout.

We do the same thing with Alec and Carissa.  They take karate, and they will become black belts.  There are nights that they actually don’t want to leave the comfiosity of home to get sore, sweaty, and stuffed face first into a mat that has known many feet over the years.  I’m sure there are nights when they are certain that a green belt is good enough.  It isn’t. They don’t have the option of quitting.

And someday they’ll be black belts.

I’m not saying that you never let them back off on anything.  There are only so many hours and so many days—you can’t do it all.  We figured out pretty quickly that our kids weren’t real team sports types.  We moved on to other things.  What I am saying is that breaking out of mediocre is going to take work and determination, and kids often need a nudge.

Or a shove.

Or a boot.

Sometimes we are so afraid of being pushy parents that we decline to parent—and we consign our children to mediocrity.

Think about it like this: Have you ever heard an adult say, “I’m so glad my parents let me quit piano lessons.  After all, aren’t three chords good enough?”