Employees today say that they have to compliment young workers for just showing up, according to an article in the Wall Street Journal called "The most-praised generation goes to work," by Jeffrey Zaslow. He says that "Bosses, professors and mates are feeling the need to lavish praise on young adults, particularly twentysomethings, or else see them wither under an unfamiliar compliment deficit." (See his article at http://online.wsj.com/article/SB117702894815776259.html). I was shaking my head over this sad fact, feeling smug that my generation doesn't expect such praise.
Then I went to see the doctor yesterday for a physical. The doctor was doing her usual poking around when she got to my knees. "Nice knees," she said.
"What?" I said, surprised. "What's nice about them?"
"Oh, your patella is nice and large. So many people have small patellas, and oh, my, my, that causes such problems." She patted my knees. "But you—you have good knees."
Well, in my whole life, no one has ever before commented on my knees, one way or another. I found myself walking out of the doctor's office with a smile on my face and a new spring in my step. "I have nice knees!" I thought, feeling absurdly proud.
Then it hit me. Maybe if my generation had received a little more praise growing up, I wouldn't be clutching to my heart a nice comment about my knees. Maybe I wouldn't be feeling proud of something I had absolutely nothing to do with—the size of my patella.
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