I Hope We Fail

I recently came upon a small essay written by Jon Carroll, who is a columnist at the San Francisco Chronicle.  It strongly reminded me of a conversation I had with a longtime hero of mine, Steve Garber.  Dr. Garber  once spoke to me about the "pedagogy of pain".  This conversation took place during the end of my first year in my masters program, and to be honest after the conversation I had to run home and look up the word "pedagogy".  

I will admit that I think I barely, scarcely, timidly understood the conversation at all.  Dr. Garber told the store of a rabbi who in putting this pedagogy to practice choose not to speak to his first born son until the young man turned 13... In this the father explained that he had nightly prayed that the child would be heart broken, torn down, and met with severe failure- but only to the point that the child would come to know and rely upon God.  I'll admit first hearing this story I was confused, appalled, and -I now realize- blind to its point.  I do, however, think that this is one of those situation where time has departed some wisdom to me.  After reading Jon Carroll's article I have a deeper appreciation of failure and of its value in our lives.  I have copied the article below, and embedded the reading of it by Jon Carroll for those of you'd like to listen.  

Failure is a Good Thing 

Jon Carroll  October 9, 2006

Last week, my granddaughter started kindergarten, and, as is conventional, I wished her success. I was lying. What I actually wish for her is failure. I believe in the power of failure.

Success is boring. Success is proving that you can do something that you already know you can do, or doing something correctly the first time, which can often be a problematical victory. First-time success is usually a fluke. First-time failure, by contrast, is expected; it is the natural order of things.

Failure is how we learn. I have been told of an African phrase describing a good cook as "she who has broken many pots." If you've spent enough time in the kitchen to have broken a lot of pots, probably you know a fair amount about cooking. I once had a late dinner with a group of chefs, and they spent time comparing knife wounds and burn scars. They knew how much credibility their failures gave them.

I earn my living by writing a daily newspaper column. Each week I am aware that one column is going to be the worst column of the week. I don't set out to write it; I try my best every day. Still, every week, one column is inferior to the others, sometimes spectacularly so.

I have learned to cherish that column. A successful column usually means that I am treading on familiar ground, going with the tricks that work, preaching to the choir or dressing up popular sentiments in fancy words. Often in my inferior columns, I am trying to pull off something I've never done before, something I'm not even sure can be done.

My younger daughter is a trapeze artist. She spent three years putting together an act. She did it successfully for years with the Cirque du Soleil. There was no reason for her to change the act -- but she did anyway. She said she was no longer learning anything new and she was bored; and if she was bored, there was no point in subjecting her body to all that stress. So she changed the act. She risked failure and profound public embarrassment in order to feed her soul. And if she can do that 15 feet in the air, we all should be able to do it.

My granddaughter is a perfectionist, probably too much of one. She will feel her failures, and I will want to comfort her. But I will also, I hope, remind her of what she learned, and how she can do whatever it is better next time. I probably won't tell her that failure is a good thing, because that's not a lesson you can learn when you're five. I hope I can tell her, though, that it's not the end of the world. Indeed, with luck, it is the beginning.

I realize that this revelation to me, is probably not so remarkable to those of my readers who are older than me; however, I think often the most profound things in life we simply need to remind each other of from time to time.  I am sure that I will need to be reminded of the value of failure the very next time I fail.  I am comforted to know that even in my greatest weaknesses there rests the ability to grow my strongest.  It is in the redemptive paradox of reality that I see and thank God for his perfect Grace.  And for a achievement oriented, control freak... I am joyful to have a different perspective to view my failures.