In an attempt to keep my job, I would like to very generally reflect on a letter published in a newspaper somewhere near Fort Smith that I think highlights an interesting concept that I have been presented with numerous times as an educator, specifically a coach.
This letter to the editor, written by someone who withheld their name (don’t even get me started on fighting battles without believing in them enough to put your name on them), touched on the topic of favoritism in sports. Being the naïve educator that I am, I would have never assumed this letter would have been aimed at me had it not been for the withheld writer offering up that she or he had children who played volleyball. Throughout my short tenure as a coach, I have had people refer to me playing favoritism before. I have even had a child once label me as someone who plays favorites. Certainly “favoritism” is a buzz word in education. Educators are not supposed to have favorites because as we all know, educators are not humans like the rest of America. Nonetheless, here is my take on favoritism and why we should be okay with coaches, teachers, administrators, and anyone else in this world “playing favorites.”
Yes, I have favorites. I have favorites in my classroom, and I certainly have favorites in my gym. As I told the young child who accused me of playing favorites, I am proud and perfectly okay with having favorites. The students/players that I consider my favorites, however, are not the kids that I like the most, as all assume. They are not my favorites because I wish I could hang out on the weekend with them because our personalities click with one another so well. Instead, my favorites are the kids who do their work. And my favorites are the kids who listen to what I tell them and try to fulfill those requests as best they can. And my favorites are the kids who show up to practice with a good attitude and a willingness to work more than the others. And my favorites are the kids who are better than the other kids, because that’s how this world works. There are people who are good at stuff and people who are not. And why would I not like the ones who are good more than the rest. I don’t care that your child is ADHD and that you drank alcohol like a fish when you were pregnant so his brain doesn’t work like the rest of the kids. I don’t care that you work at night on a line in a factory instead of taking care of your children, and thus your child can’t read when he gets to the 9th grade. And I don’t care that God didn’t bless your child with feet that don’t trip, legs that can jump, and hands that can catch a ball. And I don’t care that you want your kid to play just as much as everyone else because high school sports are really just about having fun. Fun, my foot withheld writer. I’m not here to have fun. I’m here to rely on 15 year olds to perform on any given Tuesday or Thursday so that all of the endless hours I devote to your child will transfer to a wins and losses record. And I am here to teach your child, regardless of their ability to pass a ball, that this world is not fair. And you will have to answer to the favorites game for the rest of your life. And whether you’re 14 or 40 someone will always get what you want because they will be the favorite. I am here to teach your kid that maybe they should work harder to get better to bust this game that educators play, instead of adopting their parent’s excuses and allowances that have created an offspring who isn’t a favorite. I’m a believer that the apple doesn’t fall from the tree, withheld writer, so don’t assume you can break the cycle of non-favorites within your family by writing a rather elementary level letter to a local newspaper.
Yes, I have favorites. And no, your child probably isn’t one of them. And regardless of whether it’s junior high volleyball or success beyond public education when things stop being “for fun,” at least your child can look back and realize that their below average life started with you. You and your decision to convince your child that they are just as good as everyone else and it is my fault as a volleyball coach that they are perpetually not worth mentioning. You can claim that life lesson, not me.
More than that, I would also like to note that the majority of people in this life that your child will have to deal with were probably favorites themselves. Teachers were the smart kids, coaches were the starters, and administrators were a combination of both of those. Therefore, most educators deep down inside do not feel sorry for your child. Favorites believe in favorites. Public school employees just happen to be the lucky ones who generally get to provide you and your child with your first dose of reality in respect to the abilities of your son or daughter.
So, in summary I do have favorites. They’re called athletes and intelligent people. Don’t take it out on me that your child is neither of those.
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