I confess that I love figures: surveys, rankings and those lists that tell us who “are the best”. I am attracted to concrete facts, those that seem to give us certainties and help me to decide calmly, without letting myself be carried away by subjectivity. But in life -that which does not fit in a spreadsheet- I am attracted to concrete facts. Excel-and especially when it comes to our children, we run a risk. And not a minor one.
In Chile, the end of the year is approaching, and with it the season of awards, diplomas and university entrance exams. Everything revolves around recognition: life is measured in scholarships, in marks of excellence, in medals that weigh more for pride than for the metal. Do the children who receive these awards deserve them? They probably do. And so do their parents, because behind every achievement there is silent effort and unconditional love.
But maybe it's worth looking at the other side: that of failure, of not being chosen, of the injustice that sometimes sneaks in between the applause. Did you give your 100 % and still not get chosen? Were you the best and someone else got the medal? Did you feel humiliated because they didn't trust you?
It hurts. Of course it hurts. But how much did you learn in that process? Did you think that the road may be worth more than the photo in Instagram? Sometimes, this blow to vanity is also a lesson in freedom: to learn to depend less on the opinion of others and to launch oneself into the void with one's heart exposed.
Perhaps it is a conversation for after-dinner conversation. Let our children know that the diploma may not be hanging on the wall, but that the love of their family will always be imprinted on their soul. Because, at the end of the day, that is the award that no one sees, but that in everyone's story shines brighter than any medal.
