I admire all of my children in their own way, but of late I’ve been basking in a particular brand of reverence for my eldest daughter.
She loves playing team sports. Last year she started baseball and this year we added basketball to the picture. No one has ever said that she has an obvious genetic predisposition for athletic endeavours. She’s relatively small and skinny for her age, and she doesn’t display exceptional speed, power, agility, or quickness, but it doesn’t matter.
My daughter is a bulldog of determination. In the face of a league that is 95% male, she grits her teeth, tightens her batting gloves, and soldiers on. She will not be denied, and I glow inside when I watch her get her knees and elbows dirty.
I’ve realized lately that she relishes the underdog role. When the odds are stacked against, and especially if there are even minor hints of deficit mindsets against her, she thrives.
But I’ve also been reflecting on how fortunate my children are. There are so many kids out there that don’t even get a chance to try. If we were lower on the socio-economic scale, I wonder how my daughter would even have the chance to show her perseverance and growth mindset. Because of our family’s fortunate place in society, she has the opportunity to put on her uniform and know that she has a right to equity on the field.
She has the privilege to play.