Risk vs. Reward

Risk versus reward is one of the fundamental questions of life and possibly one of the most telling personality tests out there. Where is your threshold where the potential reward of attempting something outweighs the risk involved in that trial? Obviously it depends on the individual situation. I thought about this question tonight while watching The Fault in Our Stars. Both the book and the movie completely blur that line of risk. The reward of a loving relationship is obvious, but the risk changes during the story. At first the risk seems to be for Augustus, who is risking losing somebody he loves by pursuing his relationship with Hazel. In the end, it was actually Hazel's risk, because Gus's sickness was more immediate than hers. (I apologize for the spoiler, but I think the very few people who actually read my blog posts are probably already acquainted with the story.) Through most of the memorable parts of the story, Gus knows that he will die before Hazel, but does that reduce his risk? Sure, he is not going to have to deal with the loss of his love, but at the same time, knowing that he is going to leave her and that she will have to deal with his death may be an even greater risk. I don't think you can decide that one character is more courageous than another. Their courage is different, but equal. One thing I enjoy about reading YA books in my own middle age is that I am able to identify with the parents as much as with the main-character teenagers. In a lot of ways, I think Hazel's parents are the most courageous in the entire story. In a literary world inhabited by so many unlikable characters, it is refreshing to have a book full of realistic, but engaging personalities.

Risk vs. reward is the main question of so much of our lives. I am a huge football fan. For both my wedding and my 10th anniversary, my wife gave me a Dallas Cowboys jacket as a gift. I enjoy football games at all levels, from high school the the NFL, and I have a hard time imagining the fall without the sport. BUT, does the risk outweigh the reward? There has now been so much research into the long-term damage caused by playing football, that I think the risk is just too great. I'm selfish enough to keep watching and cheering as long as the sport exists, but if I had to vote, I would end football at all levels. That opinion is completely biased by the inconvenience of having so many students at different levels of concussion treatment throughout football season, but the increasing number of diagnosed concussions each year makes me think it's just not worth it.

I am teaching a section of Precalculus this year, along with two colleagues who have decided to experiment with flipping the classroom. I love the idea of the flipped classroom, and have heard far more positive reviews than negative about their attempts, which is impressive in a school that puts such a huge value on "tradition." That is an area where risk and reward are not clearly defined. I actually think you could say that about every classroom innovation. For the teacher, who is looking at a half-century of teaching, the reward of experimenting clearly outweighs the risk. One less-than-optimal year of teaching is virtually meaningless when compared to 49 years of teaching that benefited from the lessons learned during the one sub-par year. Try telling that to the parents of the child who is struggling during his one year in the new, experimental system though!

The last reason risk vs. reward is on my mind tonight is because I am sitting in my den, typing on my computer instead of what I would prefer to be doing at this time of year. By far my favorite thing we do at my school is called the "Burch trip." Without boring you with the story of how it came about, I'll explain the basics. We send the entire ninth grade on a 5-day backpacking trip on the Appalachian Trail each fall. We break them into groups of 12 students with 1 faculty member and two Outward Bound Instructors. I try to go on this trip every year, both because I love the hiking and camping involved in the trip, and because I learn something every year either from the students or from the incredible Outward Bound instructors, or, usually, both. On the trip I develop a bond with a group of students that lasts forever, and helps me to work with them more effectively in the classroom. This year I chose not to go on the trip, and that was a very difficult decision. About a month ago I had my first ever serious reaction to a bee sting, which resulted in an IV in the hospital and their crashing an epipen because they didn't think they would be able to get the IV set up before I reached a critical stage in my reaction. The doctor told me that I really needed to avoid exposure to bees for six months. Since I have been stung on half of the Burch trips I have taken, I decided that the risk outweighed the reward in this case. It is clearly the right decision, especially to people who have not experienced the trip themselves. For a teacher who has witnessed the incredible awesomenity (my daughter's word, and I love it!) of kids adapting to the unfamiliar and sometimes terrifying conditions on the Burch trip, the risk versus reward balance is not necessarily as clear. Fortunately, tonight the reward of keeping myself safe and healthy was made very clear at the end of the movie. TFiOS has brought me to tears four times. The first was when I read the book. If you haven't read it, you should! The second was when I saw the movie in the theater. (A great adaptation, although no movie can ever do justice to a great book!) The third was tonight while re-watching the movie. The fourth was when my son finally lost it at the end of the movie tonight. He is so open and sensitive emotionally, but able to maintain a balance at the same time. I learn so much from his ability and willingness to show emotion without embarrassment, but still maintain a healthy outlook. As much as I am dying to be out on the trail right now, the risk just doesn't outweigh the reward of a lifetime of these moments with my son. The world would be such a better place if our concept of "manliness" required this level of sensitivity. Augustus embodied that very well in TFiOS, and I am so proud that my son can do the same!