I think this is a good time to dig into the archives of this humble blog and re-print the one that got the most reaction.

It originally appeared here on November 22, 2006. With the seventh annual STN National Convention just a couple of weeks away, this seems like a good time to share it again.

“LOSING HEART”

I received an e-mail six or seven months ago from a colleague in Texas. She is someone I can not remember ever meeting in person, but I may have. I meet lots of broadcast teachers at our summer camp, and at the STN Affiliates Convention each year. When I read her note, it really got to me. She basically said, “We have entered lots of STN contests, but we’re losing heart because we never, ever place.”

It was a moment that hit me hard, and reminded me of the double-edged sword scholastic broadcasting contests offer to those who choose to compete. When I was a kid, one of my best friends, Greg, used to say, “It’s a fun game to win.” He was referring to baseball, or poker, or whatever contest he had been enjoying at the time.

One of my college baseball coaches used to say, “As long as someone’s keeping score, you might as well win.” At the time he was playing badminton (no kidding) and doing his best to pulverize his opponent, which in badminton means slamming the birdie to the open court where it makes a resounding “poof” audible only to nearby dogs when it lands. Being competitive is something we Americans perfected a long time ago, isn’t it?

But back to my colleague in the Lone Star State who said she and her kids were “losing heart” because of their frustration in STN contests. What do we do about that? It seems to me one of the biggest responsibilities we have as TV teachers is to make sure every contest experience is educational, no matter what the results are. It’s not always easy. But thank goodness STN provides critiques and judges’ comments in all contests. Sometimes forms get lost, or misplaced, but in every case, a serious effort is made to make sure the contests provide a teaching moment with written feedback, even if it’s just a score and a brief sentence. Sometimes it’s much more thorough.

Preparation of broadcast kids for contests is crucial as well. As a teacher, you simply have to lower the expectations. You have NO idea who is going to enter what, and how many schools will participate. So don’t make remarks to your kids about winning. Why? Because winning is getting tougher. There are more broadcasting programs in the schools now than there were ten years ago, and many have discovered contests like the “STN Fall Nationals,” which recently received just under 500 entries from over 90 schools. If you tell a kid they are going to win or place in a national contest, you are crazy, and you are asking for heartache.

I am a total softy when it comes to contests. I want every kid to win something. It’s so fun to see the STN Closing Awards Ceremony each year at the national convention. The recognition kids receive that day is so fulfilling to those who work so hard to make the contests happen. One of my favorite moments was at the 2004 convention, the first one, when a teacher and her kids went nuts when one of their own got an “Honorable Mention” in an on-site contest. I’m guessing the teacher did not tell her kids to expect any awards that day. When they won, they were truly thrilled.

To sum it up, contests should provide teaching moments about what we need to do better. Written feedback is crucial if that is to happen. Teachers need to lower expectations, and never tell kids they are going to win. They should also make sure they celebrate any recognition students earn in national contests, because these days, it’s only getting tougher.

In the end, yes, “losing heart” happens. For the kids who keep entering, but don’t win, they need to understand that the process of competing, with proper feedback, is worth the effort. It is totally up to the teacher, and to the people running these contests, to make sure that comes through loud and clear.

I finish with remarks I heard the great Nebraska football coach, Tom Osborne, make at a banquet 20 years ago. He was talking about a conversation he had with a high school coach in his area. Osborne asked him what kind of year he had. The high school coach said, “Oh, we went 7 and 3, just missed the playoffs.”

Osborne looked at him and said, “I didn’t ask how many games you won. I asked you what kind of year you had.”