The Anxious Generation
Yesterday, my son and his friend discovered a local stream with hungry bass. They were gone for hours and upon return reported proudly that they discovered a can’t miss bait – baby crawfish, but that they only work when you pull the pinchers off! If you think that’s horrifying I understand. And I also don’t care what you think. Because at 11 years old, that’s exactly the sort of thing I want them to internalize. That nature can be severe. That the food chain is cruel. That if you experiment you might hit on something really valuable. It’s all just dripping with rich metaphor.
Do you know where the metaphors are not rich? In travel sports. I hate travel sports. Hate them. I’m not proud to say it, but I might even hate people just because they like travel sports. Don’t get me wrong. Some of my kids play travel sports, one intensely. And so far as I can tell, the fundamental lesson of travel sports goes something like this:
Let me set you up with the best equipment money can buy. Let’s ornament you in the styles of top professional athletes. Then let’s schedule games with kids from the next county over…but let’s meet them four states away in the finest facilities that money can buy. And now that we’ve ratcheted up the stakes higher than anyone your age can comprehend, COMPETE!
Incredibly valuable life lessons, don’t you think?! Employers complain about not finding young people willing to work hard at low level tasks. Authors write books that make the New York Times list about the generational lack of resilience. Psychologist nonpareil Jonathan Haidt is currently #2 with a book called The Anxious Generation! If I may offer an unstudied opinion, travel sports probably explains most of it, Professor Haidt.
Happy Father’s Day!
