At Least I’ll Have One
What a gym teacher from 42 years ago can teach us about the power of words.
It Only Took Seconds to Say
It was near the end of 3rd grade and I was making my way through the cafeteria. My memory is not clear on the exact details, but likely I was either eyeing some of the cute girls at the nearby table or popping tater tots into my mouth. Both were favorites. In fact, it’s possible (being a talented little dude) that I was doing both at the same time.
But the next 10 seconds would obliterate all the day’s minutia. You see, the table I was walking past at that moment was populated by teachers. One of them, a certain Mr. Catton whom I had had for gym class in 2nd grade way back in the previous year, stopped me and said, “Hey Chris, who did you get for your gym teacher for next year?”
To which I answered something along the lines of, “you Mr. Catton.”
And in the next instant he said something that would change my life.
“Oh, good. At least I’ll have one athlete in my class!”
That was it. That was all he said before turning back to the other teachers and re-engaging in their conversation. He would likely have had very little idea of what he had just done, and certainly could not have fathomed that it would be remembered forty-two years later. But his words pumped me up like an inflatable bounce house at a rich kid’s birthday party.
I was an athlete!
In every subsequent game of kick ball, every baseball game, every time I’d ever touch a ball or go onto a playing field of any kind, for the rest of my life, his words and the effect they had had on me that day gave me confidence and identity, a deep-rooted belief that I had what it takes.
…his words and the effect they had had on me that day gave me confidence and identity, a deep-rooted belief that I had what it takes.
I would never feel awkward around sports, I would never fear being chosen last in a pick-up game in someone’s backyard, I would never shy away from trying something new in the world of physical competition, simply because of an off-hand comment made by one elementary school gym teacher in a moment of kindness.
Now, weather or not Mr. Catton was accurate in his analysis, I’ll leave to the reader’s judgment. The facts from my “athletic career,” after all, speak for themselves:
- Raced motocross at the amateur level
- Took up pole vaulting in high school after getting shin splints running track
- Played drums in the marching band for two years before becoming distracted by girls and the aforementioned motorcycles
- Played co-ed recreational volleyball for one year after college
- Joined a bowling league with my work buddies and managed to improve my score by a minus 6 after a full season
- Lost my only karate match when my little toe got caught on my opponent’s kimono
(I’ll stop here, lest the reader think I’m bragging).
Words Can Help or Words Can Harm
I read a book years ago that I mostly enjoyed. It talked about how to raise boys to be tough, strong, and Godly men. One section, though, claimed that every little boy receives a “wound” from his father; semi-permanent damage resulting from harsh words or criticism. I don’t like victimhood, or books that encourage it. But it does stand to reason that if an elementary gym teacher could have such an empowering effect on a little boy with just one compliment, then the opposite could easily occur, too. We are susceptible to the mental vandalism of unkind words, especially from those whom we look up to and desire affirmation from the most. And I think we all agree that negative is much more powerful than positive, perhaps many times so.
Words can be agents of mass construction or mass destruction, depending upon the heart that wields them, but as is true for almost everything, destruction is easier than construction. Tearing down is easier than building up.
Words can be agents of mass construction of mass destruction, depending upon the heart that wields them — Tweet This!
…but as is true for almost everything, destruction is easier than construction. Tearing down is easier than building up.
I find myself wondering if I’ve ever played the Mr. Catton role in someone’s life (I hope I have), and fearing, on the other hand, that I may have caused someone a “wound” (and here I cringe, as instances pop into my head).
We Now Use Words More Than Ever
These are strange days for those of my generation, who didn’t grow up with a smart phone welded to their hand and who weren’t raised doing two things at once during all events of life (such as texting while driving, checking Snapchat while sitting across a table from a date, or contributing every three minutes to a never-ending group text conversation with twenty friends). I remember fondly what it was like to be uninterruptible, to return a phone call within 24 hours and have that be considered sufficiently fast, to live without wondering how many “likes” or “followers” I had accumulated on this or that social media platform. But the most tragic aspect of our over-connectedness, hyper-interruptibility, and digital social overdose, is the tone of our discourse.
The most tragic aspect of our over-connectedness, hyper-interruptibility, and digital social overdose, is the tone of our discourse.
Everyone can comment on everything and anything, all the time, everywhere, to anyone. Further, it doesn’t even require any courage to spout offensive and inciting vitriol. When I was a kid, if you said things to others as harsh as those that are common in today’s digital world, you’d better be ready to meet behind the schoolyard at the end of the day (or at the bus stop, which served as our particular court of appeals).
Today, it seems, the most disrespectful comments can be made without any risk of retribution. And in a growing worldwide culture of draconian political correctness, one would think that tolerance would mean acceptance. Instead, it appears to mean adherence to only the crowd-sourced and most shouted collective opinion. Harshness masquerades as honesty, and vilification claims the high ground.
Watch a talk show and they interrupt each other so mercilessly as to be unlistenable.
Read the comments on any article that attempts to address serious issues and you’ll witness name calling, character assassination, and outright hostility.
View the responses to a simple, harmless photo posted by a professional sports team and prepare to be shocked at the vulgarity and disparagement raging between those who comment.
Viciousness Has Gone Viral
Discourse has become discourteous.
Rudeness rides roughshod.
Viciousness has gone viral.
Where does it lead? Where does our culture go when driven faster and further in a race toward the bottom? And most importantly, what can any one of us do to stem the tide? After all, I don’t come across very many people who think all of this is healthy, or productive, or good for the soul. Nearly everyone shakes his or her head in disapproval as people are berated and torched in our non-stop public venues of unfiltered commentary.
I don’t have many answers . . .
save one.
And it seems as lame in first appearances as a single tiny candle flickering in the middle of utter darkness, but it carries the same potent power of the lone flame to centralize and gather attention from all dark corners, spreading into a blaze as it alights others.
Good ol’ Mr. Catton showed the way with one small compliment,
sincerely meant,
perfectly delivered,
and forever cherished.
— Chris Brady
Chris Brady is the CEO of an international Direct Selling company, New York Times Best Selling Author, Inc. Mag’s Top 50 Leader, Speaker, Humorist, World Traveler, Soccer Fan, Father, Mastermind Event presenter and Rascal!
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