on comparing yourself.

Last week, we switched up the baby’s bedtime book routine from Goodnight Moon to Giraffe’s Can’t Dance, by Giles Andreae.  Gotta keep it spicy, right? Oh, if my former self could hear me now.  

I’m guessing picture book authors and illustrators draft their storyboards with timeless life lessons anchoring their vision.  Who needs The Bell Jar and The Scarlet Letter when there’s The Giving Tree and The Very Hungry Caterpillar?  (I’m just making a point here, those are two of my favorite literary works and obviously beyond baby book messaging).  

This new bedtime book, however, woke me up.  Foggy from the workday, squeezing my bundle and rocking to the rhythm of Giraffe’s Can’t Dance, I wondered if Giles Andreae’s storyboard had teachers and other service-sector job doers in mind.  

The story (with excerpts) goes like this…

Now every year in Africa they hold the Jungle Dance,

Where every single animal turns up to skip and prance.

And this year when the day arrived poor Gerald felt so sad,

Because when it came to dancing, he was really very bad.

Translation: We show up each day ready. We are teachers, here to teach!  Rarely, though, do we admit that we’re good at it. We often think like Gerald.    

The warthogs started waltzing and the rhinos rock’ n’ rolled.

The lions danced a tango that was elegant and bold.

The chimps all did a cha-cha with a very Latin feel,

And eight baboons then teamed up for a splendid Scottish reel.

Translation: We notice the many amazing teachers at our school.  The teacher who commands attention when she enters a room, without even speaking.  The teacher whose kids are always smiling and laughing.  The teacher who’s grown her students three reading levels in one year.  

Gerald swallowed bravely as he walked toward the floor,

But the lions saw him coming, and they soon began to roar.

“Hey, look at clumsy Gerald,” the animals all sneered.

“Giraffes can’t dance, you silly fool! Oh, Gerald, you’re so weird.”

Translation: We are the Geralds who aim to stand tall and confident.  We fake it till we make it.  Then, so swiftly, someone or something knocks us down.  

Gerald simply froze up. He was rooted to the spot.

They’re right, he thought. I’m useless. Oh, I feel like such a clot.

So he crept off from the dance floor, and he started walking home.

He’d never felt so sad before, so sad and so alone.

Translation: Deep down, though, we hold on to that one negative reaction or comment, and let that define us.  We carry those words or that experience with us for the rest of the day, the week, or even longer.  We ask ourselves why we can’t be like those amazing teachers. What's wrong with us? 

Then he found a little clearing,and he looked up at the sky.

“The moon can be so beautiful,” he whispered with a sigh.

“Excuse me!” coughed a cricket who’d seen Gerald earlier on.

“But sometimes when you’re different you just need a different song.”

Translation: Sooner or later, the universe sends us a gift.  Maybe it’s a friend that offers a new perspective or reminds us of our beautiful individuality, and why we’re so special.  

“Listen to the swaying grass and listen to the trees.

To me the sweetest music Is those branches in the breeze.

So imagine that the lovely moon Is playing just for you

– Everything makes music If you really want it to.”

Translation: We are O-RIGI-IN-AL.  Sometimes we just have to take a step back and celebrate that.  We can dance to the beat of our own drum and teach to the sound of our kids breaking pencils.   

Even if we aren’t Geralds every day, we are on some days.  

We know what our weaknesses are like no other.  When we see someone who is strong in our weak area, all of a sudden, they are the perfect teacher and we suck.

For real though...They are not perfect, and we do not suck.  Strengths and weaknesses are funny like that.  It’s like they erase all of the in-between. Why does it have to be all or nothing?   

In psychology, social comparison theory explains the tendency we have to make comparisons between ourselves and others.  Deep down, I think we know it’s not healthy to compare.  I think we know that individuality is what empowers us and our kids and keeps things spicy.  

Finding our own rhythm is what will make us even better...and perhaps...even happier.  

Power to the teacher.