Generation self-esteem
Sacrificing trust for good feelings
The people who raised my generation seemed to have one goal in mind: make us feel good.
Anything to build our confidence, make us feel like God’s gift to the planet or just give us warm fuzzy feelings was readily heaped upon us.
In small doses, it’s a good thing. All persons should at least be able feel respected and loved.
It has gone much too far, though. Various psychologists describe the self-esteem generation as carrying a sense of false entitlement that makes them feel like super geniuses that no one has any right to criticize. While these psychologists do have a point, that is far from being my main issue with the self-esteem movement.
What bothers me most is that I no longer feel I can trust anyone to give me an honest opinion. If someone tells me I did something well, how am I supposed to know if they mean it or if they are trying to raise my self-esteem?
As a voice major preparing for a career in performance, I sing in public quite a bit. Part of my training includes singing in front of the other voice students and having them critique me. When I first started, I was thrilled by how many positive comments I got. “Wow,” I thought. “They must think I’m the next Sarah Brightman.”
Then, I noticed something: the instructors and the other students said good things to everyone. Obviously, not everyone is the next Sarah Brightman.
Yes, they gave me tips to improve, but it seemed like the positive things people said about me far outnumbered the so-called negative things. It seemed a bit fishy.
I remember a talent competition I did in Winnipeg. My nerves got the better of me that day. My voice was shaky, I did my dance moves half-heartedly and I had all the stage presence of a corpse. The crowd seemed bored with me. The only good thing about the performance was that I finished it without running off the stage in frustration.
Still, a relative insisted on telling me how well I had done. While I knew she meant well, I found her behavior quite irritating. I just wanted to forget about this performance and concentrate on how to make the next one better. I knew it wasn’t my best, and I had accepted that.
When we are continually told how wonderful we are and rarely told otherwise, how are we supposed to know when to actually believe it? It’s like we learn to expect compliments even when they aren’t warranted and then when they are, we can’t tell if it’s token praise or genuine appreciation.
I am all for giving encouragement to people as they learn new skills. There’s a certain thrill to progressing in the quest for proficiency in a task.
We must not sacrifice honesty in the process, though. A person will feel a much greater sense of accomplishment when he or she knows his or her work genuinely was good than from a routine pat on the back for a mediocre job.
Columnists' opinions do not necessarily reflect the views of The Spectrum