Comparison is the death of joy. –Mark Twain
My son Mark is the token white guy.
I don't watch TV. So when I'm trapped in front of a screen that everyone else is ignoring, I have trouble ignoring it. This week I got to not ignore the torture of three adorable young singers on a TV competition. I enjoyed watching each of them shine. Then the judges sliced and diced them, not so fun to watch. They were each very different in style. Apples and oranges. So what was the point of the competition? More drama?
Competition has a place. But often its chief function is to convince people that if they can't shine like the sun, they shouldn't bother to shine at all. I like watching the moon. I like candles too.
My son Mark will have to shine like the sun to achieve his goals in math. Still, he knows to keep comparison to a minimum. He's not Grothendieck or Tao (supernovae), and he thrives on collaboration with other mortals. In music, he is content to shine like the moon. His a cappella group is urging him to try a solo and will cheer him on whatever the wattage.
I love watching him shine, whatever the wattage.
Originally Published on: Nov 4, 2015 @ 15:42
