The Necessity of Doing Hard Things

Liberty Common students flourish by doing hard things. 

 

This past Saturday, I was honored to watch the Rocky Mountain Young Marines’ Recruit Class #2601 graduate after five weeks of rigorous physical and academic training.  As a founding member of the Rocky Mountain Young Marines unit, which was chartered in 2018, and a mom to three graduates of the program, I am tasked yearly to give parents of incoming Recruits what we call the “This is Going To Be Hard” speech.  In this speech, I usually say, “This will likely be the hardest thing your child has ever done.  Do not let them quit.  They will thank you for it.” 

 

This is true.  As a mom of five adult children, I promise this is true.

 

When I looked at the faces of these eleven newly-minted Young Marines forming their platoon for graduation, they looked different standing there in their new, crisply-ironed uniforms.  They had matured.  Their faces showed proof of newfound wisdom—the kind which says, “I was pushed beyond what I thought I could handle only to learn I am tougher than I thought I was.”  They may wonder whether they are the same person they were before.

 

Four of the graduates are Liberty students:  Isaac Haynes (5th—Cardenas), Jude Crauwels (3rd—Kelly), Minka Wyatt (3rd—Kelly), and JaVaughn Kraus (3rd—Scarpella).  The Recruit Instructor (Gabriel Hamilton—12th) and one of the Assistant Recruit Instructors (Malachi Hamilton—10th) also attend Liberty Common High School.  These are leaders and budding leaders who make Liberty proud.  They are young people who do not back down from doing hard things.

 

Back in February, I was honored to deliver a presentation to other teachers and staff at our Core Knowledge Network gathering on the topic of African-American Spirituals, a content area that has always intrigued me.  My presentation was titled, “Implausible Hope: The History of African-American Spirituals.”  I am awed by those who can respond to evil and wickedness with faith and hope.  Since childhood, I have been mesmerized by the dichotomy of a people so mistreated creating music that breathes out so much hope.  I have always been drawn to stories of overcoming.  I love a hero.  I need a hero. 

 

As I dug into my study and research, the tenacity and grit prominent in the lives of so many struck me as profound.  Even after a lifetime of horrible mistreatment, they hoped for the Promised Land and the freedom it would bring.  So many of them showed unparalleled perseverance, fortitude, and courage by finally making it to freedom—and singing along the way.

 

The spectrum of life’s difficulties is vast and varied.  I would not compare the unfair struggles of slavery with the trials of completing Young Marines recruit training.  But I do acknowledge struggling toward a distant goal requires flexing character muscles that are otherwise untested.  The consistent working of those muscles builds resilience.  Resilience allows a person to not be undone when life inevitably throws them a curveball.  Those who are resilient can find joy where others feel only hopelessness. 

 

Humans without practiced resilience cannot be heroes.  They are incapable of it.  One must sit in the crucible of difficulty in order to be shaped into a virtuous, flourishing human.  Too often, our culture withholds difficulty from the young as a sort of misguided kindness.  It is not kind to allow a child to continue in fragility.

 

Stop trying to make life fair for your children.  It isn’t.  It is, however, full of opportunities to power through difficulties and grow in virtue.  Choose hard things for your children.  Train them to persevere.  Help them strengthen their virtue muscles.  One day, they may look at their hands and acknowledge they are a different person—a better one—and they will see the glory over everything.