Too Confident?

Ella’s fifth-grade teacher recently gave her class an opportunity to become published authors.

Students could submit their writing to the librarian, who would make the work available for checkout like any other item in the school’s media center. In one week, Ella wrote, revised and finished a short story and excitedly submitted it.

I asked Ella if she would be open to emailing her story to the family, to show off her talent. “If you don’t feel comfortable, I totally understand,” I said. “I tend to be shy about letting people read my fiction.”

“Dad,” she replied, in a familiar tone, “I’ve sang songs and played guitar on stage in front of hundreds of people! I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t have a problem with having a few people read my story.”

After hearing Ella’s undaunted expression of self-esteem, I wondered if there was a reasonable boundary between confidence and conceit. In other words, how much self-promotion is too much?

While I’m still somewhat shy about bragging about my accomplishments, I’ve learned that in certain situations, showing one’s feathers isn’t necessarily a bad thing. Let’s remember, though, I have many years of life experience under my belt. At 10, I did not possess anything near Ella’s confidence.

Expressing one’s pride can be buoying or damning. Just the right amount can put us in position to advance our station in life, like in a job interview. Show too much, though, and we risk coming across as self-aggrandizing egotists interested only in demonstrating our comparative greatness.

Our society tends to frown on those who continually sing their own praises. And with good reason: No one wants to be around the guy who tells you how much better he is at everything from Gin Rummy to grilling steak. But veering to the opposite extreme might not be the answer, either.

By attributing our every success to the work of others or just plain luck, we might come across as insincere. (Look how modest I am!) We also risk dismissing our own inevitable greatness. Moreover, for our children — whose future successes depend largely on developing a healthy sense of self-worth — placing a premium on modesty at the expense of honestly acknowledging our own abilities might inadvertently advertise that everyone else is more important than we are. It’s a nice thought, but evolutionary biology tells us that survival depends on first looking out for numero uno.

I helped Ella edit her story, and then watched her closely. She didn’t get offended or upset when I recommended certain minor grammatical and organizational changes, and she even initiated the difficult process of self-editing. Clearly, my precocious 10-year-old is living within the comfortable margins between confidence and humility. I fully admire her for it.

Ella should be proud of her mixture of effort, perseverance and creativity. And while I will certainly encourage her to be tactful in how she presents herself, I must constantly remind myself that our world is becoming more competitive by the minute. Her audience will only grow bigger.