Credit
Who gets credit for your success? It’s Commencement at Harvard tomorrow, and I have been thinking about this as so many proud parents and friends are here to celebrate this milestone. Last night at a farewell reception, the dean called on graduates to thank three groups of people: the faculty and staff that keep the programs running and help students learn and thrive, family and friends that support students along the way, and the students themselves, for all their hard work
It meant a lot to me that several students came up to me to thank me for my help and support with their work. I also talked to many proud parents at the party. One mom stood out. When I asked her how her son got to this point, with tears in her eyes she said, “oh, that’s just how he is, he’s always been that way! Ambitious and determined.”
As a mom myself, I found myself quite emotional, and I really understood what she meant. Her comment reminded me of how I feel about baseball and my athletic kids. At different times, other parents have asked me what I did to “make” my kids like this. And similarly, I don’t think I really did anything, and I don’t really know what to say. It’s just how they are. Of course I support them to pursue the things they love, and baseball is one of those things. There is a lot of work involved, much of it kind of invisible: making sure they have what they need, scrubbing the pants, getting them to the right fields at the right time, sitting there through great games and terrible games. But I do that because that’s what they love to do.
A couple of weeks ago at one of my son’s games, a boy came in to pitch and started giving up runs. I was sitting near his mom, who kept apologizing. She said, “he is throwing away the game, I am so sorry!” And I said, “listen, you are not responsible for your son’s baseball performance!” We have all been there on the sidelines, cringing as we watch mistakes and failures, worrying for them, and anticipating the tears. But in the end the kids are doing it, with our love and support and encouragement. It is our job to stick with them and support them through the successes and failures, but in the end they are the masters of their own body of work, however it may turn out.
Once again, it’s funny to think about how parenting, baseball, and academic work are connected. My kids aren’t that different from the students who thanked me for my help with their papers. I didn’t do something specific to “make” them succeed. I listened and helped them figure out what they wanted to do and made suggestions and challenged them to think intentionally about their plans. They had setbacks along the way. Through the process, they understood themselves better and were glad for my help. But I don’t think I should get credit for their success; I am proud to have been a small part of their journey. Like the dean said, there was a lot of invisible work going on behind the scenes that helped them get to this point. I hope they’ll go into this next chapter even more prepared to work hard, persevere, and seek support as inevitable challenges arise.
Are you interested in thinking more about these relationships? Check out the Mentoring guide. Would you like a thought partner who can help you think about how to improve your work? I am here and it’s the thing I love to do!
