I was talking to a parent who was disappointed that her bright and intelligent child lacked the motivation to be at the top of his class. He seemed quite happy with scoring around 80 marks while the parent was pretty sure that with some effort he could easily be at the top of the table. She is worried that at this rate he might never fare well in competitive exams for admission to the IITs and IIMs later in life.
She was distraught when she said: ‘I don’t know how to instill killer instinct in him.’
I think parents and schools today do a great job of instilling killer instinct in a child almost from the cradle. Everything is about competing and winning and being first. Parents blame the system but have to go along as no one wants to be left out of the race. I am not sure what else “killer’ instinct does but it certainly kills a lot of nice things for the child , first of which is the fun of being a child.
encarta.msn.com defines killer instinct thus:
strong will to win: an overpowering drive to succeed, e.g. in business deals or sports, whatever the cost may be to other people
So by definition, a child becomes less sensitive and caring about others as he acquires a killer instinct.
Even advertisement show kids who are super achievers and super-moms who with their right choice of shampoo, bath soap, cereal,diaper, baby food, tooth paste, detergent and beverage ensure that their child gets that edge. In a recent advertisement for Pears soap a mom is bathing her child while teaching her:
Bam ba ba bam bam. Babar ka beta Humayun..aur Humayun ka..Akbar.
What fun!
Just imagine a child spending 5 minutes simply having fun enjoying her bath or playing with bubbles while she could be using that time in learning the names of Moghul kings! Such is the stuff super-moms are made of!
While the air is sick with so much craving for super achievement and competition, it is refreshing to watch some kids in ads behaving like kids. Like the “Daag achche hain” series where little kids do endearing and extra-ordinarily sensitive acts that only kids are capable of doing spontaneously. The recent one in the series where a little boy tries to cheer up his ‘Rosy miss’ by acting like her pet dog to get her out of mourning is huggably sweet.
Losing has never been a more scary word than today particularly in sports. We go overboard both with glorification of winning teams and contempt of losing teams. A recent advertisement for the Champions Trophy equates the tournament with war. It shows a retired Lt.Col who is a WWII veteran describing the skills a soldier’s needs at the battlefront.
“Like the champions cup sir?’ asks the listener.
‘What?!’ says the Lt.Col’ understandably outraged. (Exactly my sentiments too when I saw it first!)
Then he is shown watching the game and goes:
‘mmmmmmmm.interesting!’
After all sports is war minus the shooting! We have no shame about admitting it.
Life has become such a rat race and many times it seems that we need to continue running just to stay in our place. Amidst all this when one gets some stories like this, it really makes you long for a place which is beyond winning and losing, where people are willing to slow down for the sake of others with no prizes to win but simply in order to bring joy to someone and in the process make this world a better place. It may not be a true story but it is certainly a beautiful story that needs to be told:
At a fundraising dinner for a school that serves children with learning disabilities, the father of one of the students delivered a speech that would never be forgotten by all who attended.
After extolling the school and its dedicated staff, he offered a question:
'When not interfered with by outside influences, everything nature does, is done with perfection. Yet my son, Shay, cannot learn things as other children do. He cannot understand things as other children do. Where is the natural order of things in my son?'
The audience was stilled by the query.
The father continued. 'I believe that when a child like Shay, who was mentally and physically disabled comes into the world, an opportunity to realize true human nature presents itself, and it comes in the way other people treat that child.'
Then he told the following story:
Shay and I had walked past a park where some boys Shay knew were playing baseball. Shay asked, 'Do you think they'll let me play?'
I knew that most of the boys would not want someone like Shay on their team, but as a father I also understood that if my son were allowed to play, it would give him a much-needed sense of belonging and some confidence to be accepted by others in spite of his handicaps.
I approached one of the boys on the field and asked (not expecting much) if Shay could play. The boy looked around for guidance and said,
'We're losing by six runs and the game is in the eighth inning. I guess he can be on our team and we'll try to put him in to bat in the ninth inning.'
Shay struggled over to the team's bench and, with a broad smile, put on a team shirt. I watched with a small tear in my eye and warmth in my heart. The boys saw my joy at my son being accepted.
In the bottom of the eighth inning, Shay's team scored a few runs but was still behind by three. In the top of the ninth inning, Shay put on a glove and played in the right field. Even though no hits came his way, he was obviously ecstatic just to be in the game and on the field, grinning from ear to ear as I waved to him from the stands.
In the bottom of the ninth inning, Shay's team scored again. Now, with two outs and the bases loaded, the potential winning run was on base and Shay was scheduled to be next at bat. At this juncture, do they let Shay bat and give away their chance to win the game?
Surprisingly, Shay was given the bat.
Everyone knew that a hit was all but impossible because Shay didn't even know how to hold the bat properly, much less connect with the ball.
However, as Shay stepped up to the plate, the pitcher, recognizing that the other team was putting winning aside for this moment in Shay's life, moved in a few steps to lob the ball in softly so Shay could at least make contact. The first pitch came and Shay swung clumsily and missed. The pitcher again took a few steps forward to toss the ball softly towards Shay. As the pitch came in, Shay swung at the ball and hit a slow ground ball right back to the pitcher. The game would now be over.
The pitcher picked up the soft grounder and could have easily thrown the ball to the first baseman. Shay would have been out and that would have been the end of the game. Instead, the pitcher threw the ball right over the first baseman's head, out of reach of all team mates. Everyone from the stands and both teams started yelling,
‘Shay, run to first! Run to first!'
Never in his life had Shay ever run that far, but he made it to first base.
He scampered down the baseline, wide-eyed and startled.
Everyone yelled, 'Run to second, run to second!'
Catching his breath, Shay awkwardly ran towards second, gleaming and struggling to make it to the base.
By the time Shay rounded towards second base, the right fielder had the ball . the smallest guy on their team who now had his first chance to be the hero for his team.
He could have thrown the ball to the second-baseman for the tag, but he understood the pitcher's intentions so he, too, intentionally threw the ball high and far over the third-baseman's head.
Shay ran toward third base deliriously as the runners ahead of him circled the bases toward home.
All were screaming, 'Shay, Shay, Shay, all the Way Shay'
Shay reached third base because the opposing shortstop ran to help him by turning him in the direction of third base, and shouted,
'Run to third! Shay, run to third!'
As Shay rounded third, the boys from both teams, and the spectators, were on their feet screaming, 'Shay, run home! Run home!'
Shay ran to home, stepped on the plate, and was cheered as the hero who hit the grand slam and won the game for his team
'That day', said the father softly with tears now rolling down his face, 'the boys from both teams helped bring a piece of true love and humanity into this world'.
Shay didn't make it to another summer. He died that winter, having never forgotten being the hero and making me so happy, and coming home and seeing his Mother tearfully embrace her little hero of the day!
Just once in a way if only we could apply the brakes and do something like this for no reason but to just make a difference in someone else’s life, to give up something because someone else needs it more, I guess we would all be able to help ‘bring a piece of true love and humanity into this world’. I think that is a better legacy to leave for our children than a few millions in the bank.
