I thought about my kids' learning journey a lot these days. I lament about them going through enrichment classes with nothing but unrealistic dreams of success and total disregard for hard work and perseverance. I bang table at their lack of progress and poor performance. I yell at their apathy when I try to counsel or convince them that they should have gratitude and cherish the opportunities given to them on platters. Then finally I weep... for the shattered hopes that they can excel in whatever I want them to do and prove that I have succeeded as a good mom... quite quietly. I internalise their lack of accomplishment as my personal failure. Surely I haven't pushed them hard enough or maybe I'm not hardworking myself. I didn't stand firm and bite the bullet with them. I couldn't model determination to them. I allowed them to quit.
I think I'm a quitter myself. As a child, I like many sports and activities but I quit when I realise I'm not good enough. I feared judgement and failure, I still do. My parents neither encouraged or stopped me for trying. Over time, I got to know myself much better and labelled myself as 'jack of all trade, but master of none'. I often questioned if there was any place for someone like me... no talent, no skill... Then I realised I had better not quit so easily if I wanted to find a niche for myself. So, I picked subjects and skills that I could do reasonably well in and went ahead with them, creating little successes. Although I can't say I am very skilled now or I have turned out very fine, I am good in certain things and I know it. So, is my approach very wrong then? I think maybe not so. Quitting takes some reflection and courage too. After all, I had to admit I couldn't do it and move on without losing hope in my next endeavour.
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