I am going to chip in on some of the debate over humiliation, because I think its difficult to quantify, and I think that some people are concerned that pulling their kids out just teaches them to not deal with failure, and actually I did pull my kids out of sports days and still do expect them to deal with failure in a robust way (adults now). It gets all a bit heated on here, so I wondered if I could share, and I remain hopeful of not being vilified. It's just a share to explain where I came from as a "Sports Day Refuser".
My experience was as follows, shared honestly with no rights or wrongs, just how I ended up being the parent who yanked their kids out.
I was shit at all athletics (basically anything that sports day celebrated), I am dyspraxic, extraordinarily clumsy, and was well known for not only coming last but for the teachers starting the next race before I had limped over the line with my bean bag. However, it was a nice school, and I had nice friends, who were much more sporty than I was, but who recognised that I did have some talents, they just were not on the field. I was not traumatised, and although people did laugh at me, my recollection was that it was more "with" than "at".
I didn't really feel humiliated. As a family, we would chuckle at the ludicrousness of it all and move to the next abject failure on the pitch. I was a trier, always failed, but gave an enthusiastic go. Anyways, I can't hate truly sports day because that is actually where I first laid eyes on my now husband...(magnificent sporty legs - this was aged 15, I hasten to add, not 7.....) Anyway, I digress...
When I had my own kids, I was actually quite excited about sports days, I rocked up with the picnic basket, joked with my (sporty) husband that I would be taking my rightful position in last place for the mums race, and looked forward to a fun day of cheering, and silliness with bean bags and potato sacks.
It turned out that my kids were very like me and were totally rubbish. My eldest didn't really get the point of the races and kept stopping to wave at us enthusiastically as we cheered with gusto (secretly wishing we had smuggled Pimm's into the picnic). I assumed that their experience would be like mine, but later my son turned up crying and despondent.
Everyone received a medal.
Gold, Silver, Bronze, and Participation (it said something like "I did my best on it"). This is slightly patronising, and let's not get into a debate about participation medals. It wasn't the Olympic final. It seemed nice, if a little wet, in the message.
My son was actually pretty chuffed with his medal... at first.
Until a kid turned around to him and pointed out that this was a loser's medal because he was a massive loser. This kid lived next door to us and was supposed to be a "bestie." Unfortunately, this loser chant gathered momentum, and suddenly, there were chants of "loser" at anyone who had the participation medal, and it all turned a little sour. This turned into such an extraordinary and horrible thing (it went on for months), it was like lord of the sodding flies on a suburban scorched school field. Kids can be bloody nasty, and genuinely, I suspect that the "winners'" parents fanned some of the flames.
The school, in its infinite wisdom, decided to tackle the problem head-on. Yes, you have guessed it. Instead of addressing the behaviours, they were going to remove the problematic participation medals as they were causing issues. So now losers sat with no medal while winners strutted around lording it, and no one seemed to think that winning with grace is as important a lesson as losing with grace. I was astounded that no thought was given to behaviour.
The damage was done, our son (and his brother, who was actually even worse - a totally amazing space cadet), were both humiliated, not by the act of being a bit rubbish at something but by the actions of their peers, and the failure of the school to address it appropriately. We tried at home, we assumed the family culture of not being phased or giving a rats fart about someone else's ridiculous poor winner behaviour would chide them over, but we were met with abject refusal, and it took a long time to rework the loser framing out.
When the next sports day came around, I packed up the picnic, gave the enthusiastic pep talk and was met with "Why would you make me do this, Mum?" And I thought "Fuck this, Why AM I buying into it when we could do something else that either creates memories or helps build him up?"
So we decided that this was not a stage we wanted to put our kids on to be taunted at. Simple as that.
Now we did want our kids to be fit, healthy and enjoy sports, and we tried a few things, many of which they were also rather shit at, and didn't enjoy. I was also really looking for somewhere they could feel safe and supported - a community.
They did find their sport eventually, and it was one that really instilled discipline and respect, and they LOVED it. They enjoyed the structure and discipline, and it was just a really nice crowd. They were however both shit at it when they started, they showed absolutely no aptitude, but they happily stepped out and failed again and again because no one was trying to humiliate them. We had found their tribe, and it was supportive, the coaches focused on personal journeys as well as collective team ambition, and above all, respectful conduct - I loved it, and so did they, even though they appeared to have no special talent for it, and for us it was never about the winning, it was about how they grew from it.
The first friendly tournament my eldest son went to outside of his club, he hurt himself, started crying and looked ready to quit, he literally crumpled in front of us and I had a moment where I thought, what the fuck have I done, I've done it again, after everything that went down with Sports Day, is this some kind of personal ambition I am living out and putting my kid through (I was analysing myself and my motives to the nth)........but he turned around and saw every single one of his club mates, other parents and his coaches cheering fiercely and telling him he could do it.
He actually didn't win, but he got through the tournament with his head up, he listened to his coaches and his supportive peers, and he DIDN'T get a participation medal, but he got back-slapped all the way out of the gymnasium for showing up and giving his all. We played Eye of the Tiger on top volume in the car all the way home and sang loudly and badly while celebrating a successful day of learning and fun with friends, and the sheer guts of going out there and having a go after everything that had happened before. Back at class the following week, everyone that took part was celebrated, both boys were asked what they learned from the day and what they were most proud of, and then the whole club cheered..... I was EMOTIONAL at the support my little losers received.
It ended up being that the spirit of participation (ironically what he was ridiculed and humiliated over at the beginning), was what kept him and his brother going in sport.
That was it. Hooked. Training five nights per week, and actually started winning all the regionals and nationals, got selected for the England squad, travelled all over the world, faced losses and "humiliations," rose up, and had incredible wins. Both of my lads' teenage years ended up being an incredible journey of international trips, competitions, training camps, and making friends in their sport literally all over the world.
CRITICALLY, as adults, 20 years later, they are still doing their sport. Both train regularly, both now coach, and interestingly, neither of them keeps their medals. They hand them to us and we hang them up on this wall on a back staircase in the house, kind of out of sight, (it is almost a womblike quiet space of pride just for mum and dad where we have a memento of the journey), because it was never, and is never, about the medal.... it was always about the participation.
I have a feeling, though, that when their own kids arrive, they will not be fussed about being staunch sports day refusers.
I am quite proud to be a bit of a loser, and if it were just me, I would rock up to any sports day and come last, and laugh about it all the way home, but my kids... nah. Sports day as a concept just didn't work.