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Ass, Children, and Dumb: 21 hrs Dear People Older Than Me: Shut up about the fucking participation trophies. We didn't ask for them. We didn't want them. We didn't cherish them and polish them while thinking about what special, gifted children we are. They were annoying clutter on our shelves that we had to throw out in secret so we wouldn't hurt YOUR feelings. And if we knew back then that you were gonna bring it up every time you disagreed with someone under 40 for the rest of fucking time, we would have told you where to shove that cheap plastic statue. Sincerely, People Younger Than Me Like -Comment →Share nt ◆ Share 214 133 shares 23 Comments straightouttanarnia: aproposthessaly: pearlsthatwereeyes: mihrsuri: star-anise: goshawke: hannibal-and-dory: pinkrocksugar: adramofpoison: children aren’t dumb. we knew that trophies meant nothing when everyone in the fucking class got one Also who was giving out those fucking trophies? SPOILER ALERT IT WASN’T US. IT WAS YOU. Who the fuck got trophies?? I got a piece of paper saying Participation on it with a cheap-ass shiny sticker in the corner! Sometimes they were ribbons. Sometimes they were just the gnawing awareness that you could never trust any praise an adult gave you. ^^^^ When I was in 7th grade, the administration at my middle school decided to make a bunch of changes to pep rallies, including changing the spirit award to the grade that showed the most school spirit to three spirit awards SO THAT EACH GRADE COULD HAVE ONE. We decided in about 2.5 seconds that this was fucking stupid and that it was pointless to have a school-wide spirit contest IF NO ONE WAS ACTUALLY ABLE TO WIN. Our entire grade organized ourselves and boycotted the pep rally in protest. We still went to the pep rally, but the entire 7th grade sat quietly in the bleachers and refused to cheer or otherwise participate. AND IT INFURIATED THE SCHOOL ADMINISTRATION. INFURIATED THEM. They ended up giving one spirit award to the 8th grade and two spirit awards to the 6th grade. At which point, our entire grade stood up and cheered, and the principal screamed into her microphone that we needed to sit down and stop cheering. Because we hadn’t broken any school rules, the administration realized they couldn’t punish us, and they changed back to one spirit award and got rid of the other unpopular pep rally changes. But they never forgave us. The principal saved up all of her anger for a year and a half and then called a special “promotion ceremony rehearsal” for our grade right before we graduated from middle school specifically so that she could spend an hour yelling at us about how THIS WAS NOT FOR US, THIS WAS FOR OUR PARENTS AND OUR TEACHERS AND THE ADMINISTRATION AND THE SCHOOL, AND IF WE FUCKED THE CEREMONY UP IN ANY WAY, SO HELP HER, SHE WOULD MAKE OUR LIVES A LIVING HELL.  So, yeah, tell me again about how my generation expects trophies for participating. I dare you. Someone somewhere has a great post about how all Millennials learned from this “everybody gets a trophy” culture foisted on us was to distrust conventional feedback methods (if everybody gets one, the system must be wrong and someone who tells me I’m good at something is probably lying). So the fact that we’re a generation filled with insecure overachievers with a well-documented lack of interest in conventional life markers is partly due to all those stupid participation trophies. Ruined a perfectly good kid that’s what you did. Look at it. It’s got anxiety
Ass, Children, and Dumb: 21 hrs
 Dear People Older Than Me:
 Shut up about the fucking participation trophies. We didn't ask for them. We
 didn't want them. We didn't cherish them and polish them while thinking
 about what special, gifted children we are. They were annoying clutter on our
 shelves that we had to throw out in secret so we wouldn't hurt YOUR
 feelings. And if we knew back then that you were gonna bring it up every
 time you disagreed with someone under 40 for the rest of fucking time, we
 would have told you where to shove that cheap plastic statue.
 Sincerely,
 People Younger Than Me
 Like -Comment →Share
 nt
 ◆ Share
 214
 133 shares
 23 Comments
straightouttanarnia:

aproposthessaly:

pearlsthatwereeyes:

mihrsuri:

star-anise:


goshawke:

hannibal-and-dory:

pinkrocksugar:


adramofpoison:
children aren’t dumb. we knew that trophies meant nothing when everyone in the fucking class got one

Also who was giving out those fucking trophies? SPOILER ALERT IT WASN’T US. IT WAS YOU.


Who the fuck got trophies?? I got a piece of paper saying Participation on it with a cheap-ass shiny sticker in the corner!

Sometimes they were ribbons.

Sometimes they were just the gnawing awareness that you could never trust any praise an adult gave you.


^^^^

When I was in 7th grade, the administration at my middle school decided to make a bunch of changes to pep rallies, including changing the spirit award to the grade that showed the most school spirit to three spirit awards SO THAT EACH GRADE COULD HAVE ONE.
We decided in about 2.5 seconds that this was fucking stupid and that it was pointless to have a school-wide spirit contest IF NO ONE WAS ACTUALLY ABLE TO WIN. Our entire grade organized ourselves and boycotted the pep rally in protest. We still went to the pep rally, but the entire 7th grade sat quietly in the bleachers and refused to cheer or otherwise participate.
AND IT INFURIATED THE SCHOOL ADMINISTRATION. INFURIATED THEM.
They ended up giving one spirit award to the 8th grade and two spirit awards to the 6th grade. At which point, our entire grade stood up and cheered, and the principal screamed into her microphone that we needed to sit down and stop cheering.
Because we hadn’t broken any school rules, the administration realized they couldn’t punish us, and they changed back to one spirit award and got rid of the other unpopular pep rally changes. But they never forgave us. The principal saved up all of her anger for a year and a half and then called a special “promotion ceremony rehearsal” for our grade right before we graduated from middle school specifically so that she could spend an hour yelling at us about how THIS WAS NOT FOR US, THIS WAS FOR OUR PARENTS AND OUR TEACHERS AND THE ADMINISTRATION AND THE SCHOOL, AND IF WE FUCKED THE CEREMONY UP IN ANY WAY, SO HELP HER, SHE WOULD MAKE OUR LIVES A LIVING HELL. 
So, yeah, tell me again about how my generation expects trophies for participating. I dare you.

Someone somewhere has a great post about how all Millennials learned from this “everybody gets a trophy” culture foisted on us was to distrust conventional feedback methods (if everybody gets one, the system must be wrong and someone who tells me I’m good at something is probably lying). So the fact that we’re a generation filled with insecure overachievers with a well-documented lack of interest in conventional life markers is partly due to all those stupid participation trophies. 

Ruined a perfectly good kid that’s what you did. Look at it. It’s got anxiety

straightouttanarnia: aproposthessaly: pearlsthatwereeyes: mihrsuri: star-anise: goshawke: hannibal-and-dory: pinkrocksugar: adramo...

Baked, Dad, and Fail: theguilteaparty So my mom told me a story... Growing up, my mom and her siblings would make banana bread every week. Literally every week since the first one of them learned how to make it, they started making banana bread- lo and behold though, they liked it with walnuts and they all knew their dad hated walnuts. So they made a special loaf of banana bread just for him every week, just for him to eat. Nobody else was allowed to eat it because that was his banana bread, baked especially for him. So anyways, they did this once a week from middle school up until every last one of them moved out of the house (and considering there was at least 10 years difference from the oldest to the youngest, this was quite some time). So that's like... 16 years of weekly banana bread. And he always finished it. He, without fail, ate the whole loaf of bread by himself. That's approximately 835 loaves of banana bread. Now Skip ahead a few years... and they're all visiting and baking banana bread and they start making a dad's bread and their mom comes in, "I don't think he can handle eating one more slice of banana bread!" "What are you talking about? He loves banana bread! He had it all the time!" This is when my grandma, their mom, broke the news that my grandfather loathed banana bread with every fiber of his being. He just adored that his kids loved him enough to make him a special loaf of banana bread every week (and he didn't have the heart to tell them that he couldn't stand banana bread) and he was incredibly, utterly upset that my grandma told the kids his big secret. My grandfather was a loving, patient, gentle man who absolutely hated banana bread but loved his kids so much more and I just wanted to share that with you guys. I think this story is just about the perfect example of the kind of person he was. Dad and the Banana Bread
Baked, Dad, and Fail: theguilteaparty
 So my mom told me a story...
 Growing up, my mom and her siblings would
 make banana bread every week.
 Literally every week since the first one of them
 learned how to make it, they started making
 banana bread- lo and behold though, they liked
 it with walnuts and they all knew their dad
 hated walnuts.
 So they made a special loaf of banana bread
 just for him every week, just for him to eat.
 Nobody else was allowed to eat it because that
 was his banana bread, baked especially for
 him.
 So anyways, they did this once a week from
 middle school up until every last one of them
 moved out of the house (and considering there
 was at least 10 years difference from the oldest
 to the youngest, this was quite some time). So
 that's like... 16 years of weekly banana bread.
 And he always finished it. He, without fail, ate
 the whole loaf of bread by himself.
 That's approximately 835 loaves of banana
 bread.
 Now
 Skip ahead a few years...
 and they're all visiting and baking banana bread
 and they start making a dad's bread and their
 mom comes in, "I don't think he can handle
 eating one more slice of banana bread!"
 "What are you talking about? He loves banana
 bread! He had it all the time!"
 This is when my grandma, their mom, broke the
 news that my grandfather loathed banana
 bread with every fiber of his being. He just
 adored that his kids loved him enough to make
 him a special loaf of banana bread every week
 (and he didn't have the heart to tell them that
 he couldn't stand banana bread) and he was
 incredibly, utterly upset that my grandma told
 the kids his big secret.
 My grandfather was a loving, patient, gentle
 man who absolutely hated banana bread but
 loved his kids so much more and I just wanted
 to share that with you guys. I think this story is
 just about the perfect example of the kind of
 person he was.
Dad and the Banana Bread

Dad and the Banana Bread