Sorry, your precious angel is neither a hero or special - unless EXTRAORDINARY circumstances dictate it...
Modern society's need to acknowledge even minor actions (think a trophy just for participating or being a member of a "winning team") is a major reason today's youth have an attitude of entitlement and superority. Honestly, what used to be considered an every day action of good values (honoring authority/elders, work ethic, manners, perservance, self-responsibility) is now seen as some sort of heroism? Don't know how you were raised, but, these were every day expectations.
Just because I was on a winning team/won the game/completed every day responsiblities makes me a hero? No. Does the embodiment of the expected everyday norm behavior of a decent human being make me a hero - naw. That's just working towards character.
The overuse of a word/concept cheapens it to the point its meaningles. There's a point to different words/vocabulary - it's to enable a person to accurately express themselves. Just because you believe a word to mean something doesn't make it so.
High school kid who shows up for practice/participates to the best of his/her ability = expected behavior.
Going above and far beyond where I willingly infuse myself into a situation that will result in likely harm/death or sacrificing my self-interests for others = Hero.
Mother Theresa = Hero.
Basilone, USMC Gunnery Sergeant = Hero.
(GuadalcanalDuring the Battle for Henderson Field, his unit came under attack by a regiment of approximately 3,000 soldiers from the Japanese Sendai Division. On October 24, 1942, Japanese forces began a frontal attack using machine guns, grenades, and mortars against the American heavy machine guns. Basilone commanded two sections of machine guns that fought for the next two days until only Basilone and two other Marines continued fighting.[5][6] Basilone moved an extra gun into position and maintained continual fire against the incoming Japanese forces. He then repaired and manned another machine gun, holding the defensive line until replacements arrived. As battle raged, ammunition became critically low. With supply lines cut off, Basilone fought through hostile ground to resupply his gunners with urgently needed ammunition. Toward the dawn of the battle, Basilone fought Japanese soldiers using only a .45 pistol. By the end of the engagement, the Japanese regiment was virtually annihilated. For his actions during this battle, he received the United States military's highest award for bravery, the Medal of Honor.)
Straight talk from an educator servicing those who have been conditioned they're special...
http://www.myfoxboston.com/story/187...special-speech
You are not special. You are not exceptional.
Contrary to what your soccer trophy suggests, your glowing seventh grade report card, despite every assurance of a certain corpulent purple dinosaur, that nice Mister Rogers and your batty Aunt Sylvia, no matter how often your maternal caped crusader has swooped in to save you you're nothing special.
Yes, you've been pampered, cosseted, doted upon, helmeted, bubble-wrapped. Yes, capable adults with other things to do have held you, kissed you, fed you, wiped your mouth, wiped your bottom, trained you, taught you, tutored you, coached you, listened to you, counseled you, encouraged you, consoled you and encouraged you again. You've been nudged, cajoled, wheedled and implored. You've been feted and fawned over and called sweetie pie. Yes, you have. And, certainly, we've been to your games, your plays, your recitals, your science fairs. Absolutely, smiles ignite when you walk into a room, and hundreds gasp with delight at your every tweet
You see, if everyone is special, then no one is. If everyone gets a trophy, trophies become meaningless. In our unspoken but not so subtle Darwinian competition with one another-which springs, I think, from come to see them as the our fear of our own insignificance, a subset of our dread of mortality - we have of late, we Americans, to our detriment, come to love accolades more than genuine achievement. We have point - and we're happy to compromise standards, or ignore reality, if we suspect that's the quickest way, or only way, to have something to put on the mantelpiece, something to pose with, crow about, something with which to leverage ourselves into a better spot on the social totem pole. No longer is it how you play the game, no longer is it even whether you win or lose, or learn or grow, or enjoy yourself doing it Now it's "So what does this get me?"
Modern society's need to acknowledge even minor actions (think a trophy just for participating or being a member of a "winning team") is a major reason today's youth have an attitude of entitlement and superority. Honestly, what used to be considered an every day action of good values (honoring authority/elders, work ethic, manners, perservance, self-responsibility) is now seen as some sort of heroism? Don't know how you were raised, but, these were every day expectations.
Just because I was on a winning team/won the game/completed every day responsiblities makes me a hero? No. Does the embodiment of the expected everyday norm behavior of a decent human being make me a hero - naw. That's just working towards character.
The overuse of a word/concept cheapens it to the point its meaningles. There's a point to different words/vocabulary - it's to enable a person to accurately express themselves. Just because you believe a word to mean something doesn't make it so.
High school kid who shows up for practice/participates to the best of his/her ability = expected behavior.
Going above and far beyond where I willingly infuse myself into a situation that will result in likely harm/death or sacrificing my self-interests for others = Hero.
Mother Theresa = Hero.
Basilone, USMC Gunnery Sergeant = Hero.
(GuadalcanalDuring the Battle for Henderson Field, his unit came under attack by a regiment of approximately 3,000 soldiers from the Japanese Sendai Division. On October 24, 1942, Japanese forces began a frontal attack using machine guns, grenades, and mortars against the American heavy machine guns. Basilone commanded two sections of machine guns that fought for the next two days until only Basilone and two other Marines continued fighting.[5][6] Basilone moved an extra gun into position and maintained continual fire against the incoming Japanese forces. He then repaired and manned another machine gun, holding the defensive line until replacements arrived. As battle raged, ammunition became critically low. With supply lines cut off, Basilone fought through hostile ground to resupply his gunners with urgently needed ammunition. Toward the dawn of the battle, Basilone fought Japanese soldiers using only a .45 pistol. By the end of the engagement, the Japanese regiment was virtually annihilated. For his actions during this battle, he received the United States military's highest award for bravery, the Medal of Honor.)
Straight talk from an educator servicing those who have been conditioned they're special...
http://www.myfoxboston.com/story/187...special-speech
You are not special. You are not exceptional.
Contrary to what your soccer trophy suggests, your glowing seventh grade report card, despite every assurance of a certain corpulent purple dinosaur, that nice Mister Rogers and your batty Aunt Sylvia, no matter how often your maternal caped crusader has swooped in to save you you're nothing special.
Yes, you've been pampered, cosseted, doted upon, helmeted, bubble-wrapped. Yes, capable adults with other things to do have held you, kissed you, fed you, wiped your mouth, wiped your bottom, trained you, taught you, tutored you, coached you, listened to you, counseled you, encouraged you, consoled you and encouraged you again. You've been nudged, cajoled, wheedled and implored. You've been feted and fawned over and called sweetie pie. Yes, you have. And, certainly, we've been to your games, your plays, your recitals, your science fairs. Absolutely, smiles ignite when you walk into a room, and hundreds gasp with delight at your every tweet
You see, if everyone is special, then no one is. If everyone gets a trophy, trophies become meaningless. In our unspoken but not so subtle Darwinian competition with one another-which springs, I think, from come to see them as the our fear of our own insignificance, a subset of our dread of mortality - we have of late, we Americans, to our detriment, come to love accolades more than genuine achievement. We have point - and we're happy to compromise standards, or ignore reality, if we suspect that's the quickest way, or only way, to have something to put on the mantelpiece, something to pose with, crow about, something with which to leverage ourselves into a better spot on the social totem pole. No longer is it how you play the game, no longer is it even whether you win or lose, or learn or grow, or enjoy yourself doing it Now it's "So what does this get me?"
Care to expand or touch too close to home?
