by Kathleen M. Muldoon
Yvette Silver www.yvettesilver.com
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During my school years, the month of May always brought two memorable events: Field Day, which I loved, and Awards Assembly, which I dreaded. Being an “athletic zero”, I never won anything at Field Day, but I didn’t care-I had fun trying. Awards Assembly, on the other hand, was my annual hour of torture when I wished I had tried just a little harder in my studies.
Up until eighth grade, the only award I’d received was the Perfect Attendance certificate. I’d won that one every year except in fourth grade, when I had the measles. I didn’t really consider those my awards, however. They should have gone to my grandmother. In her opinion, the only reason for missing school was being declared near death by a licensed physician. Therefore, I was probably the reason many other students didn’t have perfect attendance since I brought many cold and stomach viruses to school with me.
Now, when it came to other awards handed out at Awards Assembly- you know, those for the students with highest averages in math, English, Spanish, and other subjects, I wasn’t even close. I was a solid “C” student and I was all right with that-I liked being average. But my grandmother and my teachers weren’t all right with my mediocrity. Under teachers’ comments on every one of my report cards was a variation of the dreaded comment, “Kathleen does not live up to her potential.” To my grandmother, that was worse than getting an “F.” It didn’t bother me, though, except during Awards Assembly. Although I tried to pretend I didn’t care, inside I felt jealous of every student who went up there and accepted his or her award as proud families knelt in the aisles taking photos. Relatives didn’t seem too excited over perfect attendance awards.
Then came that glorious eighth grade Awards Assembly when, quite unexpectedly, I received one of those coveted academic awards. When the principal announced, “The winner of the award for highest average in eighth grade science is Kathleen Muldoon,” I was so busy whispering to the girl next to me that the principal had to repeat the announcement. Elbows nudged me on both sides. As I stumbled up onto the stage, I thought that the award probably should go to my science teacher, Mr. Blade. He’d made me like science. Somehow during that year I’d caught his excitement about nature and the elements and the amazing working of the human body. Without realizing it, I had worked so hard in that class that I actually had earned an A+. I had lived up to my potential.
Now, you’re probably wondering why I’m telling you all this. It’s because I’m on a mission to save Awards Assemblies. Some school districts in Texas where I live and in other states-maybe yours-have done away with any kind of awards to students who have worked up to their potential. School board members think that these awards are a bad thing because students who don’t win them feel bad about themselves.
I don’t know about you, but I think academic awards are a good thing. I still have my certificate proving that in eighth grade, I achieved superior work in science. Wow! I’m proud of that certificate. I didn’t save my attendance awards. Yes, I did feel badly about myself when I didn’t get awards-but when I finally realized that I could work harder and achieve more, I became motivated and I felt great about myself.
What do you think? Do you like the idea of Awards Assemblies? If you have a strong opinion about this, I’d love to hear it, and I’ll bet other Action readers will, too. E-mail it to action@unitedspinal.org or mail it to:
KIDS IN ACTION
United Spinal Association
75-20 Astoria Boulevard
Jackson Heights, NY 11370-1177
You probably won’t get an award for your opinion, but you’ll feel good about yourself for expressing it!
Kathleen M. Muldoon is a children’s book author and writing instructor for the Institute of Children’s Literature. She lives in San Antonio, Texas.
