Last fall, Adelaide played soccer for the first time. The five-week season seemed like it lasted for an eternity. Twice a week, I would bring Adelaide to the field and encourage her to play. After about five minutes, she'd ask to take a break. During games, Adelaide would pout, stomp her foot and cross her arms when anyone bumped into her or ran faster than her. I'm honestly not sure if she touched the ball during a single game.
On the worst nights, Adelaide would refuse to play and throw a temper tantrum on the sideline. I would beg, plead and serve up consequences. Nothing worked. I started bribing her before each game. "If you practice the whole time and go into the game twice, you'll get Dairy Queen after soccer." Little by little, I was at least able to get her onto the field, and we eventually made it through week five.
At some point last fall, Adelaide asked me why I didn't cheer for her. According to Adelaide, I cheered for Tobias during his games and told him that he did a good job, but I never did the same for Adelaide.
My initial reaction: "Give me something to cheer for!" How do I cheer for someone that doesn't do anything? How do I say "good job" when all Adelaide did was stand on the field while the players ran around her?
When I worked with teenagers at Boys Town in Nebraska, I was expected to have at least four positive interactions for every negative interaction with each kid. If we had to correct an inappropriate behavior, we had to find four other positive behaviors to address. I remember feeling the same way I felt about cheering for Adelaide. I would try to find things to praise, but sometimes it was so difficult!
Difficult? Yes. Impossible? No.
Boys Town asked us to aim for a 4:1 ratio because kids respond to positive feedback. And Adelaide needed the same. I picked up my cheering last fall and I tried really hard to find things to praise. "Nice job staying on the field, Adelaide!" "Good job listening to your coach!"
Spring soccer started last month and I decided to coach Adelaide's team. She has already shown so much improvement. The more I practice praising Adelaide, the easier it is. As a coach, I've discovered that all seven of the little kids crave this same positive attention. They need to hear that they are doing a great job. They need to hear that trying hard is enough.
We had a game last night and Adelaide was upset that she didn't scored a goal. During the game, though, a miracle happened. Adelaide's teammate had the ball and Adelaide ran down the field. She turned back and yelled, "I'm open, pass it to me," and her teammate sent her a long pass.
No, they didn't score. In fact, I'm pretty sure the other team immediately took the ball down to our goal and put it in, but that didn't matter. Adelaide and her teammate had just executed an actual soccer play. I didn't want to let the moment slip away.
I called both girls over to me and got down on my knees. I reminded them of what they'd just done and I told them that it was amazing. Their pass was a thing of beauty and I was SO proud. Adelaide's face lit up and you could see her confidence and self-esteem build in that moment.
Adelaide doesn't always do it perfectly, but neither do I. Sometimes it's hard to find something positive to praise, but it's worth the effort. For now, Adelaide's soccer continues to improve and so does my parenting
— one "good job" at a time.
Such a great reminder, Susan! Thanks!
ReplyDeleteThanks for sharing this Susan! I'm just starting to get involved with a national Non-profit that's starting a branch in MN called Positive Coaching Alliance (http://www.minnesota.positivecoach.org/). We teach coaches, athletes, and parents how to be more positive. Your story is a GREAT example of how important it is. Mind if I steal it?
ReplyDeletePlease do! Could you just give me credit and link back to my blog? Thanks!
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