"Praise the deed, not the do-er"

Several years ago, in the early-to-mid-90's, I'd guess, when the self-esteem movement was alive and flourishing in the school system where I taught and, I think, in the rest of the nation's schools as well, I signed up to take a course in self-esteem.

My motive for taking the course was purely selfish: the course, offered by my school system, gave 3 recertification credits to its teachers, and I needed those 3 credits before certificate renewal came up.

The school psychologist taught the course. I don't remember much about course content now, but one lesson really had an impact on me and how I did business from then on.

The lesson was on giving praise to our students. The instructor started the lesson by saying one should not praise the person but, rather, praise the person's action.

This baffled me. Why on earth should we not praise the "do-er"?

It took awhile for the point to sink in, but gradually I got it.

When we're told we're "amazing" or (heaven forbid) "awesome" or "fantastic," or "sweet" or "adorable," we're left with an uncomfortable feeling that doesn't feel much like pride. It feels like insincerity, perhaps, or a huge overstatement, or a comment which we have not earned.

But when we're told we've baked a delicious cake, or our drawing is excellent in detail, or we take wonderful care of our pets, those are praises of substance. We feel good knowing our efforts have been noticed and that we are doing a good job.

My school system, however, was so hell-bent on developing positive self-esteem in all of its students, whether each student had earned it or not, that elementary-level kids were taught to sing songs about themselves: "I am wonderful, I am lovable, I am...."

I developed and instituted a K-through-12 writing contest just before the self-esteem movement hit our town. Children of all grade levels submitted entries to the contest, community citizens met one morning in the spring to select the best three entries from each grade, and the winners and their parents were treated to a "tea" at which each first-place winner read aloud his or her winning piece. The icing on the cake was a booklet given to each contest winner, containing all of the winning writings with, of course, the writer's name included. These students, ages 5 to 18, were now published authors!

I thought this was a great little contest. In fact, I usually sat in the audience with tears about to spill over as I watched little first- and second-graders churn their way up to the podium, climb onto the footstool,  and share their work. To this day I remember one little boy, Adam, who read aloud a poem he had written about a pickle.

Then the self-esteem movement hit, and one of the town's two K-4 schools dropped out of the contest. The reason? The principal felt it was not fair for only three students in each grade to be declared contest winners if the rest of the students couldn't be called winners, too.

I was floored and disappointed. It was the end of our K-12 writing contest.

I remember reading an article in either Time or Newsweek a few years ago about the negative impact of the self-esteem movement. Our country was graduating many students who had egos the size of Alaska but had nothing concrete to show for it. Worse than that, many students actually had poor self-images because they knew, in their hearts, that the repeated praise they'd been given had no or little foundation in fact. The self-esteem movement had backfired, it seems.

This is perhaps, too, why extraordinarily good-looking people often have poor self-images. If all they've ever heard is praise for their "exteriors," rather than praise for their accomplishments, they feel empty.

Praise the deed, and not the do-er.