By Trina Machacek
As much as some of us want to think we are not award aware, we are all award aware. Meaning that in our humanness we like recognition for our various achievements. Proof is in the meetings, conventions, conferences and all types of gatherings we attend. I admit it, I am not immune to wanting to see where I fit in when I put my small pieces of my craft up against other crafters.
Trina Machacek
“Pishaw,” you say. You are not drawn to putting yourself up next to, well, up to the next guy. Not too many of the human race will ever be called out and put up on stage to be awarded an Oscar or a Nobel Prize. But! Yes, a prize winning “but.” I will stick my neck out here and say not too many of us have not done something to win at something. Best of Show in the fair in baking pie, taking photos or having the best cutting horse. Strongest, tallest, shortest, fastest. Oh my stars how about the richest person in the world. I would even settle for being the second or twelfth richest person in the world. Hey, we don’t all have to be number one. Do we?
It starts when we are young. Getting that first gold star on a displayed giant piece of paper a teacher has marked with names and squares so every good deed is starred with something shiny. I do not feel every participant should get a button or ribbon or trophy. The prizes in life need to be earned. Let’s delve a bit more shall we?!
Think back to the first time you remember getting a reward for some type of achievement. The bobble you got isn’t as important as that feeling of accomplishment. Well, unless the bobble was solid gold, or covered with diamonds and pearls. It’s that feeling. That good right down to the bone feeling that, once it is introduced into your life, it never goes away. It grows. That’s called your competition level. Be the best at whatever you are trying to be best at.
Olympian strivers go for the gold by being better than the last gold medal winner. My brother who has discovered golf since retiring, says he is not competitive, but he enters golf tournaments. Why? Well to win of course. Winning makes you, for a very short time, better than other people who also want to win at the thing you’re are trying to win at. Whew! That’s a slew of words.
Biking, writing, baking and even candle stick making. There are awards for every activity around. The University of Nevada Reno once had a competition having to do with mining. Knowing maybe a teaspoon full about structural mining, I truly admired the students who competed in the event. It was through the Mackay School of Mines. They were to build the best, strongest, safest underground mining structure. How much pressure could wood take if placed just right. It took engineering and common sense. The small but lifelike versions of structures were built and the top teams won—awards. There is still the school of mines and the students who compete in panning and mucking and sawing timbers and all, are known as the Mackay Muckers. They still go for awards. We all do in something, at some time.
As in everything though, too much of something is not always something to write home about. Think too much greasy and sugary food! Then riding the tilt-a-whirl or the dreaded gigantic topsy-turvey, upside-downie, Veloci-Coaster at some amusement park. OH MY STARS! Makes your head spin—and tummy shift. Just like trying too hard to be: good, better, best, bestest at your “thing.” It could drive you crazy or worse yet, take the fun and enjoyment of your “thing.”
To get to the reason my brain has gone here this week. I am trying to decide whether to go to a conference where awards will be awarded to award winners in an area that I am part of. Writing. It would be the same if it were for baking. Like pie at the fair. I have done that. It’s cool to win a ribbon at the State Fair, sure. It isn’t so exciting though when you are standing in a group of your peeps, all after the same accolades, when your name is not called. For third place. Or second place. Then the hammer comes down and you are not first place either. Life really pierces your heart when you aren’t even third—and there were only four entries in the contest. AARRGGHH.
I say try anyway. “Just go for the networking,” advice from my friend. Hey, if nothing else, I might get a ribbon for participation.
Trina lives in Diamond Valley, north of Eureka, Nevada. She loves to hear from readers. Email her at itybytrina@yahoo.com
