Honoring Failure
A couple of years ago I was doing a show for a primary grade audience at an elementary school. After an introductory song, I took a good look at the audience, decided on a particular story and launched into the telling.
A minute and a half into the story, I realized I had miscalculated – it was the wrong story, it was not going to work, and it was long – another fifteen to eighteen minutes. It was going to be a tough slog. I pushed on for another minute – I could feel attention wavering.
Then I stopped.
The students were suddenly alert. This was not expected. The guy up there was just supposed to keep blabbing about something they didn’t care about. What was he doing?
I paused. Something was now clearly wrong. This was even more interesting.
I looked at the teachers, sitting in chairs on the side of the audience – even they were now paying attention – even the ones grading papers! I addressed the teachers.
“Have you ever spent a lot of time on a lesson plan, and realized as soon as you started it, it wasn’t going to work?”
A couple of teachers nodded. The kids were looking at their teachers. I went on.
“So, then you have two choices – you can just push right ahead and teach that lesson no matter what, or give up and try something else.”
I paused again. A few nods. Kids looking at me.
“I’m giving up,” I said. Then I said to the kids, “I don’t like that story. I’m telling another.”
The teachers laughed and applauded. They knew exactly how I felt, and were relieved to see me readjust. I started another story, a better one for that moment. The kids listened and liked it.
Messing up, admitting it, and adjusting is one of the great challenges of being human, and I wish it were easier to do. (Okay, the messing up part is surprisingly easy – it’s the whole process that presents difficulty). But when someone can admit failure and move on, it’s a blessing for everyone around them.
I was reminded of all of this when my friend and fellow storyteller, Syd Lieberman, told me about a recent school visit. The head of the school had challenged all the teachers to bring a story about a mistake they had made in the classroom to the next staff meeting. They sat around and told their stories, and there was a prize for the best story. The head of the school told a story, too. Syd said the feeling of community and support in the school was exceptional – unlike any he had ever seen.
What a great exercise.
I should note here that a story of failure is different from a war story, or what musicians call “gigs from hell”, in which everything happens to you. Those are fun to tell, and comforting, to a point. But this story, where people admit failings, is a different bird.
Two things happen when a trusted friend or respected colleague admits mistakes. First, there is a lesson more easily learned. When an accomplished teacher or craftsman of any kind shows where he went wrong, others learn quickly from that mistake. It’s always hard to learn from someone else’s errors, but you’re more likely to when someone you respect shows where they went wrong. That kind of mistake sticks in your mind.
Second, and most important, it has a leveling effect and helps others relax. “She’s just like me,” is a wonderful insight. When you realize that mistakes are part of the process, you’re much more likely to stretch for new approaches and make yourself vulnerable to the moment. People in positions of authority who can admit mistakes don’t have to hold up the façade of a role that doesn’t quite fit them. Real loss of authority comes when everyone can see the leader has made a mistake but won’t admit it.
My friend, Curtis Buchanan, chairmaker extraordinaire, told me of a class he was teaching in which he had forgotten to perform a basic function before the class – sharpening his chisels. He kept trying to perform one procedure and failing, with a dozen people watching. Then he realized the problem, stopped and showed his error. In the evaluations, one of the students said, “The most liberating thing about your class was to see you make a mistake and admit your error. It gave me permission to try things I wouldn’t have tried, for fear of failing.”
Failure? It’s a great thing. When you can admit it.
One of my favorite authors is Pat Conroy, and one of my favorite books of his is My Losing Season. It should be required reading for all kids on sports teams. http://www.mpr.org/books/titles/conroy_losingseason.shtml
people are like walnuts … getting past the protective exterior and into the good stuff takes a lot of effort. sharing mistakes is a way to open a little door through the shell and let folks into the good stuff.
.. or a huge door; remind me to tell you about the time I shot an assignment then realized I hadn’t loaded the cameras …
Great story, Bill; inspiring too. Not quite quite the same as admitting errors though; failures are things you try that don’t work that will tolerate the mistake; errors are things that don’t tolerate mistakes, like miscalculated numbers for accounting purposes, for example.
A number of Presidents have admitted failures: Kennedy is the only one I can think of. Admitting errors is a much harder thing, and I can’t think of too many public figures who have done that.
Now that’s a really interesting distinction. Thanks
perhaps committing an error is what leads to a failure? i.e. in math, an error in calculation leads to a failure to get the answer right …
Loved this post. Good example and great advice. Thanks.
The San Fran. Chronicle has a cartoon, All About Coffee, that had a drawing of some of the architectural filagree you see; the caption was “You hope they catch all of the details, and miss all of the mistakes”.
Wonderful! I remember my niece being amazed once when I made and corrected a mistake, “You make mistakes too?” Right!
I once showed a student that we had each made different errors on his grade tally, “You know what that makes us both?”
“Wrong!” he said.
“No, human.”
Thanks for the reminder . . .
Another thought on failure: Ofttimes, in Science, at least, “failures” lead to even greater discoveries, such as the failed 3m adhesive that ended up being yellow sticky notes. Another great example is the “failure” of an infected petri dish of bacteria that caused Alexander Fleming to discover penicillin.
And one final possible example via Malcolm Gladwell: in improvisational comedy, they teach people not to deny the premise, even if a failed premise, as it can lead to an even better scene. (he has an example in one of his books)
Great post, Bill. It takes a real professional to know when to admit that you’ve made a mistake like that–reminds me of something you wrote in Storytelling World years ago, about knowing you’re a professional when you can say no to a job that doesn’t fit you. That’s not exactly the same thing, but it’s along similar lines. Thanks!
We were nearing the end of our 4th grade day and I was doing a read-aloud. It was Friday, kids were ready to GO. Something “happened” maybe someone was playing with a rock or flirting (NO FLIRTING! in 4th grade!) with a girl, but I/it wasn’t feeling right. I handled it badly. I stopped the read aloud. I got frustrated, kids went to their desks in silence. Bell rings and kids go home.
How easy it is to focus on the negative. It’s all I could think about; my behavior that day kept me up at night. What do I REALLY want to teach the kids in 4th grade? How to “be”. Be Safe, Be Respectful, Be Responsible, Be Here Now. To quote a song, “And adults, understand that we learn from you, everything in this world that a person should do.” Monday I spoke that as my truth, as my understanding and we receited our “Peace Pledge” for the first time. “… to make the world a more peaceful place… …be a peaceful example.” I wasn’t, I learned, I appreciate that I’m not the only one. So do my students.
My students love to catch me in a mathematical mistake, because they know I’ll be the one laughing the loudest once someone points it out. I think sometimes it’s the only thing keeping them awake and paying attention! So, from my failure, they learn, just for the fun of correcting me! Can’t say it was intentional, but I sure used it once I recognized it. (My students are adults)
Perhaps failures are not really failures at all. Perhaps they are simply opportunities for learning experiences.
Beautiful article Bill, as they all are. It is all about showing others we are human and we err and that it is okay IF we take responsibility.
Thanks for sharing.
I’m a high school senior who grew up listening to your music and stories, and happened to discover your blog today. When I read this great story, I was reminded of one of my favorite teachers and a lesson he offers that has proven to be a great tool in real life. My acting teacher at school enlightens each new class on this same concept of celebrating failure. New students are always thrown by the idea that its ok for something to not come out the way it was “supposed to” on the first try. What he encourages is to take the risk, and have the courage to try something a little out of your comfort zone. If you’re successful that’s great. If you fail that’s fine too. The important part is to not hold back, to not be afraid of failure or of looking “stupid”, and to then use the failure as a chance to learn and grow for your next attempt. This lesson may seem cheesy or simplistic, but the unfortunate fact is that there are few people who discourage this fear or present the idea of the alternative.
Fear of failure is incredibly common in human beings, and particularly among teenagers. We are just testing out the responsibility we have in our lives, and question the value of what we have to say or the depth of our intelligence. I see it among all my friends and inside myself. I’ve seen us all censer how to think in what should be analytical classes, because we’re afraid of having the wrong answer.
As an art student, taking chances is a significant aspect of my life. I was truly illuminated when I was first exposed to the idea that it was ok to not accomplish perfection in all my artistic endeavors. I grew braver and stronger in my ideas, and developed as an artist because I didn’t hold back from fear of what would happen if I failed in my attempt. Don’t get me wrong, its an ongoing process. I still have to consciously push myself out of my comfort zone.
But my main point is this: the example that a teacher or someone like you sets is crucial. However much teens don’t want to admit it, adults are the example of how we want to be and how we don’t want to be as a person. The more honesty you show us about yourselves and the more you show you are human, the easier it is to have the courage to begin the journey of discovering those things about ourselves. The earlier a person is exposed to this idea the more likely they are to be successful, because they aren’t always crippled by fear. Thanks for writing this, and I hope you always continue to pass this lesson on to children who aren’t lucky enough to receive it somewhere else.
Bonnie-
That is the best comment on any blog I’ve had. You must have a great teacher, and you’re a jewel yourself. Thanks.
Bill