The Unexpected Wisdom of Kenny Rogers

"You gotta know when to hold 'em, know when to fold 'em." --Kenny Rogers

People take their music very seriously. We also take it very personally. That's why we are slow to cross the lines of otherwise loathed genres, as though doing so makes a personal statement about ourselves. Alas, I must take a gamble and stand in Kenny Rogers' corner on this one.

I don't know if the guy sang those lyrics because they felt right or they were right, but, for me, they ring mightily true. Especially this week, after we gave our daughter Allison permission to walk away from cheerleading.

Despite our genetic propensities, when Allison first said she'd like to try out for cheerleading, Mark and I supported her. We also told her that, if she made the team, she would have to support her new endeavor financially. No small potatoes, considering the hefty price tag that comes with such short skirts.

Things really revved up last Spring, when practices and purchases piled up like clothes on a teenager's bedroom floor. Summer camp, followed by more practices, followed by Fall sports, followed by . . . a surprising lack of joy, despite all those hardwood-floor smiles and snappy moves.

It's not that cheerleading isn't a good fit period. Ultimately, though, it wasn't a good fit for Allison. And that is why we gave her the option of an exit ticket.

It was no free ride, though, since we also told her that, if she decided to quit, she'd need to have some tough, honest, face-to-face conversations with the adults in charge of cheerleading. Not easy for a people pleaser like Allison. But she did it. With aplomb, I might add.

"Winners never quit and quitters never win." --Vince Lombardi

I'm sure Vince Lombardi was a terrific coach. But I don't think his words should be etched in stone. Well, maybe soapstone. . . .

So, what do parents teach kids when they preach Lombardi's all-or-nothing sermon? In most situations, they teach resilience and strength, commitment and integrity. But I believe that it would be a mistake to make this our daily--and only--mantra.

I suppose going down with one's ship is a noble act. But it also puts quite a damper on one's future plans.

Watching Allison's moods darken, knowing her unhappiness, Mark and I figured this was one of those instances in which seeing it through to the bitter end would only make her more bitter. And so, we offered her a release valve of sorts, a way out, if not a get-out-of-jail-free card.

And what happened? She became lighter. Found her old self. Received unexpected hugs and support from her coaches and teammates, and realized that there is value in knowing when to call the game.

Call her a quitter, if you must. But we will continue to call her our daughter, a person of integrity and courage, with some really snappy skirts for sale.