Some time ago, I overheard a gym coach encouraging a child and her parents after she climbed a tall ladder obstacle. With cheerful enthusiasm, the coach said,
“You’re already doing very well. Many kids don’t even make it halfway and are already crying!”
It sounded harmless, even kind. But as I replayed the comment later, something inside me felt uneasy. What seemed like a simple praise carried deeper implications that are worth examining.
The Subtle Messages Hidden in Comparison
1. Worth Defined by Being Better Than Others
The coach’s intention was to motivate, yet his words linked success to outperforming others. “Many kids don’t even make it halfway.” In that short sentence, the child was taught that achievement is proven by standing higher than someone else.
This thinking may start at the playground but rarely stays there. It can spread to schoolwork, sports, music exams, and later to career milestones. Soon, a child might reason: I am doing well because my grades are higher than my friends’. Or later: I am valuable because I secured a more prestigious job or school than others.
The danger is subtle but real. Instead of developing a healthy desire to learn and grow, children may become driven by the need to stay ahead. Their self-worth is no longer anchored in who they are or the effort they put in, but in how they rank. It is a fragile foundation—because there will always be someone faster, smarter, or stronger.
2. Compassion Slowly Erodes
There is another quiet cost. When feeling good depends on others doing worse, compassion becomes harder to cultivate. A child who hears, “You are great because others cannot climb this high,” may learn to see weaker peers not as friends to help but as benchmarks to surpass.
Instead of lending a hand to someone struggling on the ladder, the child might secretly welcome their difficulty—it affirms their own status. Over time, the ability to rejoice when others succeed may shrink. The child may think, If they climb higher, I will feel less special.
This is the opposite of the empathy and solidarity we long to see in our children. It teaches them to look sideways—measuring who is beneath them—instead of outward in love.
3. Crying Labeled as Failure
Finally, notice how the coach’s words equated tears with defeat: “…and are already crying!” As if crying means you have lost. Yet crying is a natural and often courageous way to show intense fear or overwhelm.
For a child, scaling a tall obstacle can be genuinely scary. Tears may signal honesty and bravery—acknowledging feelings instead of burying them. But when adults frame crying as weakness, children quickly learn to hide their emotions. They may push down their fears to appear strong, missing the chance to process those feelings in a safe, supportive way.
Over years, this quiet pressure can lead to bigger struggles: reluctance to admit stress, difficulty asking for help, or shame when emotions surface. All from a single pattern of words that dismiss tears as failure.
A Different Kind of Encouragement
As parents and mentors, we can reframe encouragement in a healthier, gospel-shaped way. Instead of saying, “You climbed higher than most kids,” we might say:
“You were brave to climb that high. Thank God for giving you strength today.”
This celebrates effort and growth, not comparison. Progress can be noted too:
“Last week you reached this step; today you went further.”
And when tears come, we can gently acknowledge them:
“That was scary. Let’s rest and try again later.”
Such words affirm courage and perseverance without shaming emotions or relying on others’ struggles as a measuring stick.
The Gospel’s Transforming Perspective
The good news of Jesus speaks powerfully into these everyday parenting moments:
- Identity secured in Christ, not competition. Our worth is rooted in God’s unconditional love, not in outdoing classmates or teammates.
- Compassion as a mark of growth. Jesus moved toward the weak and hurting. Children can be taught to celebrate others’ progress and to help, not to compare.
- Emotions welcomed, not suppressed. Jesus Himself wept. Tears can be part of faithful trust and courage.
Conclusion: Parenting by Grace, Not Rivalry
This small episode at a children’s gym reminded me how easily comparison and performance creep into our words. The gospel calls us to a different story. Our children can strive with excellence without measuring themselves against those who climb less, cry more, or seem weaker.
By pointing them to Christ, whose love is not earned by ranking higher, we help them grow in humility, compassion, and joyful freedom. What began as a simple gym class thus became a quiet lesson in how God’s grace reshapes even the way we praise.