Failure Is Not A Four Letter Word

This has been a challenging school year for Mister Man. I've discussed before the fact that he's high functioning autistic, which has its blessings and curses. Social interactions is his biggest challenge because he just doesn't get why so many things matter - and he frequently doesn't read the clues. As he's getting older in school, it's beginning to set him apart more, and he's no longer so oblivious enough that he doesn't notice that he's being treated differently.

We've been having a lot of discussions about what he needs to do differently - waiting for the teachers to give directions on the work because it isn't always what he thinks it will be or making sure he's using his best handwriting and not making it silly writing. I've learned to be careful in those conversations because he so easily shuts down.

I've been hearing from his teacher that he's rushing through his work so he can read and that when he has to redo his work because it's sloppy or wrong or didn't follow directions, he resists and the work comes back still not where it should be. When I talked to him about it the other night, I was able to get him to open up a little about it. He told me that when that happens, it makes him feel lonely in his heart.

"Lonely in my heart" - that's a phrase to break a mother's heart. As I hugged him and talked about what it really means to redo your work and why his teacher asks him to do it, I searched my brain to understand where this came from. I explained that he's a smart kiddo and that means his teacher expects a lot from him. When he doesn't meet expectations, she will ask him to do what she knows he can easily do. When he's rushing, he's showing a lack of pride in his work, and he isn't showing her that he knows the material. If he doesn't learn the basics to create a strong foundation, then he can't move forward to learn the more complicated - and often more fun - things that he wants to learn.

It seemed to sink in a little bit because he does want to learn and he does want to please. It slowly dawned on me that the things he rushes through and the things he claims he "hates" in school (ahem, writing) are the ones that are the biggest challenge to him. They're the things that don't come easily to him. As I pointed that out, he nodded slowly.

But Mom, when I do those things, I fail lots of times, he explained.

Oh.

OH.

Ahhh, failure, my friend. I lived a lot of my life not wanting to fail. It kept me from things I wish I had tried or done. I don't want the wee ones to live that way.

I took a deep breath and looked at him. What does failure mean to you? I asked him. What does it mean to fail? Why do you not want to fail?

And we had a most awesome conversation after that. We talked about how what's important in life isn't doing things perfectly. It isn't about getting 100% on every test. It isn't about being the fastest and the smartest and the "best" at everything. Failure is what happens when we try and things don't work out the way we want them to, but there's no shame in that. Instead, we need to take pride in our effort, knowing that we did the best we can, regardless of the results. And if those results weren't quite what we wish they'd been? Well, we have a great opportunity to take a look at what we did and analyze it to see how we can improve upon it.

We walked through some of the great figures in history and mistakes they made - though still they are so highly regarded and had so much of what so many people consider to be success. Thomas Edison. Albert Einstein. Marilyn Monroe. Vince Lombardi. There are so many examples out there. And he started to get it. I think.

We talked through how he doesn't like the things that are difficult for him and how that's been a trend for much of his life. My child who I cannot get to put down a book used to hate reading. My free-wheeling child used to hate bike riding. And on and on. Once he practiced and gained some expertise, many of these things because his favorite activities. The light bulb grew a little brighter.

And then I went to the gym where Pandora played Pink's "Less Than Perfect" as I was running. With little else do to, I listened to the lyrics, really listened. And I almost started crying in the middle of the gym. This is the song that explains it all. No matter what, you're perfect to me. Through all the wrong turns and bad decisions and and mistaken by others, you're perfect to me.

I found a clean version of the song and played it for him last night. I made him listen to the lyrics - especially the ones discussing the negative self-talk and not looking for critics - and we talked about how everyone often feels this way. We reiterated that there is no perfect, but that instead we do what we can - and that no matter what, he will always, always be perfect to me.

Because failure is not a four letter word. If we don't fail, we aren't trying. This conversation isn't over with him. What we've talked about doesn't fix everything, but it's a start. I had no idea he felt so strongly about failure already at eight years old. How does your child feel about failure?

PS I'd link to the video, but a) explicit lyrics and b) some disturbing imagery. But if you haven't listened - really listened - to Pink's "Less Than Perfect" I strongly suggest you do.

Also, I'm giving away a $25 American Express gift card. By entering, you're helping me out, too. So... would you? Who can't use an extra $25?

Failure Is Only In Our Minds

This summer, we've had the wee ones doing pages of their workbooks most days for several reasons. This year is the first year that both the wee ones will have nightly homework, and they need to learn how to sit down and get thing done. Plus, Little Miss's school has a huge event when school returns for those students who read and did a certain level of math over the summer.

There's another reason, though.

I was one of those kids who found everything academically came easy for me. I rarely studied because it just came to me when I needed it. My study habits were atrocious. It wasn't until I went to college and was slapped in the face with real work that I realized how much of an issue this was. That first quarter my freshman year when I pulled three Cs and an A-? Yeah. That was the end of my dream of being a psychiatrist. Actually, that dream ended eight weeks into my freshman year when I approached my advisor and told him I wanted out of my program. I was giving up guaranteed acceptance to NU's med school and a three year undergrad requirement because I already knew it wasn't for me.

Could it have been for me? Maybe if I'd learned how to work earlier. If I'd figured out how to study and grasp the knowledge at the level I needed at Northwestern. There was something else holding me back even more than my lack of study skills.

I had never failed. If I tried it, it worked. And really, that's not nearly so awesome as it sounds because no one can go through life never failing. I was thisclose to never applying for AP History in ninth grade because oh my gosh what if I wrote my three paragraph essay and then I wasn't selected for the program? I thank my lucky stars every day that a friend pushed me to apply because she was. I was selected, fortunately, and those classes were the most valuable one I took in high school.

When it came to college, I had my first taste of failure - ummm those Cs, remember? - and I freaked. I was too afraid to keep trying because I simply couldn't handle my version of failure. Instead, I just didn't try. That A- was in macroeconomics, so my major naturally turned to economics because obviously that was easier. I was all set to add poly science as another major, but those classes got too hard and it didn't come naturally, so ... I didn't try. I didn't join the equestrian team at Northwestern because I didn't think I was good enough and was afraid I'd fail. The team folded after my freshman year, and I've regretted it since. I never rushed because I was afraid I wouldn't be chosen. While that wasn't my worst decision ever, how much of a better choice would it have been had I made an informed choice based on whether I liked the sororities or not?

That mentality has taken years to get over. And there are times when I still am paralyzed and unable to do something because I don't want to fail. I'll simply procrastinate then cram at the last minute so that if I do fail, I can blame a lack of time rather than a lack of ability. Fortunately, that very rarely happens anymore, and I recognize when it does so that I can generally avoid it.

I don't want the wee ones to live life this way. I want them to struggle now and know how it feels to overcome it. I want them to know that hard work brings an awesome feeling of triumph, and I want them to cherish that feeling. I want them to learn now that failing is only in their minds. They may not do something the way they want to do it now, but that's not the end of the story. There's always an opportunity to do something different tomorrow. I only wish I'd learned that lesson as a child.

And I do see it sinking in. I see Little Miss tell me that she'll never figure something out, despair evident in her voice. I work with her, leading her down the path to figuring out the answer on her own. And when she does? Oh the joy on her face, the happiness as she practically leaps around the room dancing that she figured it out all by herself.

I figure there's no greater legacy I can give the wee ones than a sense of confidence in themselves, knowing that failure is only a moment in time and that their hard work can bring them to amazing places. And so we open up the workbook again today and do some pages, hoping that they will take this lesson with them forever.

In the interest of full disclosure, this post was inspired by "In Stitches" by Anthony Youn, M.D. It is this month's book selection for the From Left To Write book club, where we write posts inspired by the books we read rather than reviews. I was provided with a copy of this book for review purposes, but I received no compensation. As always, all opinions expressed are my own.

Enter to win a strawberries cook book
You could also win Giddy Snacks for a week - 2 winners