On Competition

or doing what you love because you love it

Some folks live to compete. I’m not one of them. I just wanna do what I do and hope some people like it. But that’s not how the world works.

My son, Ben, has been a grass dancer since the year he turned twelve. His unique style, grace, and dedication at traditional pow wows earned him requests to serve as head male youth dancer several years in a row.

His home reserve had hosted traditional pow wows for many years. It was at their annual Thanksgiving pow wow that I met Ben’s father. Traditional pow wows offer a welcoming, inclusive, relaxed atmosphere with lots of opportunities for everyone to dance.

Several years ago, that reserve shifted from being traditional to competitive. So Ben competed and won against only one other dancer. Although he felt proud to have won, he also had a streak of sympathy for the boy who lost.

Because competitive pow wows draw dancers and drummers from far and wide, the next year there were five dancers in his category. Ben’s dance doesn’t follow the classic grass dance steps. I’ve always said he’s the Toller Cranston of grass dancing. His unique style brings accolades from spectators but not the judges. He didn’t place. Later, once he’d recovered, he said something along the lines of, “I hate competing. Either you’re the asshole who loses or you’re the asshole who wins. Either way, you’re an asshole.”

Now, even at competitive pow wows, he often will choose not to compete, but simply dance for the sheer joy of it. For him, dance is a prayer.

I often consider this sentiment of his, because I agree that in competition there is always a loser. I’ve experienced the thrill of being the asshole who won, but more often than not, I’ve been the former. So why do we compete? Good question, right? For the glory? The cash? To show the world we have value? Does anyone actually like to be judged?

In the current world of publishing, one needs a platform, a respectable publication CV showing prospective agents and publishers that others have found one’s work of value. The turnaround time for general submissions to literary magazines tends to be very slow. With contests, however, one finds out in good time that they’re one of the assholes who lost. I’m of the mind to stop entering contests since in the past few years I’ve spent more on contest entries than I’ve made in any sort of publication.

And I’m tired of being an asshole.

Below, is one time I didn’t mind being a bit of one.

I leave you with this heartening story about a woman who rose above the demands of competition to be a true human being.

In the 2010 Zheng-Kai Marathon, Jacqueline Nyetipei Kiplimo saw a fellow competitor, who was a double amputee, struggling to drink water. She ran alongside him from the 10 km mark to the 38 km mark and helped him drink water at the watering stations. This slowed her run time down and caused her to lose her first-place position and the $10,000 cash prize.

If you believe there are merits to competition, I’d love to hear them. I know we live in a competitive world and that without realizing it, we often compete with ourselves. What do you think?