Hail

“You didn’t win,” she winces. I wish I had one word for the expression on her face as she skillfully rips off this band-aid.  It’s the cringe that goes with “ouch”, along with the assurances that everything will be okay, yet surprisingly I don’t feel any sting.  Watching television and movie awards shows as a kid, I used shake my head at the celebrities who would say what an honor it is just to be nominated.  Who are they kidding, I would think to myself, how can anyone be happy without the win?

Receiving an award can be both monumental and mundane.  We complain that our kids don’t know how to lose gracefully; having grown up in a world where everyone gets some kind of token just for showing up.  The taut tape marking the finish line has never come close to grazing my sweaty jersey, yet I’ve got quite the collection of medals from 5Ks, relay races, and my one and only half marathon.

There is no doubt we are a population starved for appreciation. The annual physical is about identifying the markers of good health:  Cholesterol, glucose, blood pressure.  Everything has a tolerance, a range that’s considered healthy.  I think about how we might measure the levels of appreciation an individual absorbs into her being. I have a feeling we’re all achingly deficient. Yet trying doesn’t seem to be enough anymore absent of stellar results, leaving awards for participation feeling false and hollow.

   

Maybe we have blurred the lines between true competition and recognition for the effort?  Between achieving the desired results and the experience we deliver as we strive to earn them?  Between actually winning and creating a winning experience?

When we compete in a race, a game or some other kind of challenge parameters for winning are clear, calculating results is objective and transparent.  There can only be one winner, and therefore one prize. Recognition is an entirely different animal. There are no points to tally or time to keep. Selection committees evaluate subjective submissions.  There can be heavy debate to get to the award of the prize.

In competition not only do we know who we are up against, we know we are in the race. With recognition, in the name of surprise, the winners are often clueless until the moment the award is in their hands, and all others who were under consideration never even know they got a nod. In both instances the golden statue is bestowed to a winner, yet recognition has the ability to reward so many more than does pure competition. We fail miserably with recognition, and miss out on huge opportunity, when we don’t notify the nominees that they are (or were) actually in the running.

The beautiful thing about recognition is that it occurs not just in the award, but in the nomination itself.  It is not only an honor to be nominated, it is an absolute gift to know someone out in your universe believes enough in you, notices what you bring independent of the results, and appreciates what you are doing enough to take the time to flag you for consideration.

Recognition looks to inspire, to reinforce positive behavior and habits, to help us feel good about ourselves and the way we go about doing what we do.  It’s a catalyst spurring us on our path to greatness. It coaxes out of us those unique qualities we’re tempted to hold back for fear we won’t be accepted; the magic that allows us to achieve our full potential.

 

 “You didn’t win,” she winces.  Yet the minute the words come out of her mouth I know I’ve already won.  I’ve won because she wants so badly for me to hear her words of recognition. I’ve won because she knows that in order to share with me her appreciation for all she sees worthy of winning, she needs to be brave enough to tell me I lost. I've won because she inspires me to press on.