I’ve missed more than 9,000 shots in my career. I’ve lost almost 300 games. Twenty-six times I’ve been trusted to take the game-winning shot and missed. I’ve failed over and over and over again in my life. And that is why I succeed.  Failure. It sounds like a total loss--maybe even loaded with shame, disappointment, crumbled self-worth. But failure is actually a key element of success. Many “successful” people, from Michael Jordan to Winston Churchill, have waxed poetic about the insights they’ve gained from falling short. Einstein even said, “Failure is success in progress.” The key here is knowing the difference between destructive failure and productive struggle. Let’s take the common example of a student who is struggling in math. The school decides the best course of action is to pile on more math. This student now has algebra, at which she was already struggling, plus a math tutor, plus extra math homework. Instead of everyone learning from the student’s math struggle and growing (Maybe the teacher wasn’t approaching the subject well? Maybe the student is stressed out in other areas? Maybe the student really missed taking art and was unhappy to be at school?), they continued down the path of destructive failure. Now the student is struggling, but also hates math, has decided she’s a complete failure, and never wants to discuss numbers again. Period. Finito. The hallmark of destructive failure is that it leads to a sense of inadequacy. The student now blames herself. What if this had become a productive struggle instead? The math teacher realized this student was having a hard time and altered the curriculum in a way that made sense. The teacher discovered how much this student loved art, and he decided to teach math through art. Now the student can see numbers in a whole new way, has more art in her day, and is happier to be at school. Success in math has led to a boost in self confidence for the student, plus bonus growth for the teacher. Productive struggles are vital if we want to evolve and become empowered. Unfortunately, students frequently experience destructive failures in these situations. On top of that, they’re afraid to take risks and fail, even in subjects they love and understand. Part of this is the extrinsic motivation present in our modern school system. Students are trained to work solely for good grades. If they have those--or if they believe grades are the be all end all--they don’t want to risk their GPA. This risk aversion has bled over into every area of their lives, and they nearly always play it safe. When you don’t take risks, you don’t fall. And if you don’t fall, you can’t find a new way to get back up. What’s interesting is when a student learns to listen to intrinsic motivation, they can actually surpass students who are just working for grades. Student A and Student B enter a classroom. Student A has more inherent skill. But Student B is willing to take chances. Because Student B pushes himself out of comfort zones, he’s able to grow more than Student A. Student A has a good grade, but they haven’t really improved much. Shouldn’t we be pushing for more Student B’s instead of churning out more Student A’s? Of course, I used to be a Student A. Thankfully, taking a bunch of art classes exposed me to critique. Tons of students (and adults, let’s be honest) fear critique because it can be rough on the self esteem. But over time, I started craving critique. I could take those comments and suggestions about my art and use them to get to the next level. I started painting and photographing in new and improved ways. If we start integrating critique into early education, students will grow up learning to experience and enjoy feedback. Even the negative, albeit constructive, kind. It seems there might be some truth behind that buzzword: grit. Angela Duckworth, basically the queen of grit, defines this quality as “a combination of passion and perseverance for very long term goals.” If we help students develop grit at an early age, they’ll have the desire to see things through. To not give up. To learn from failures and adopt a growth mindset. But how do we do it? After all, it sounds less straightforward than a photo lesson plan. According to Mary Cay Ricci, we should first focus on the environment: how we treat and prime students for these grit-focused behaviors, setting expectations: how we expect students to fail and respond. We use the vocabulary: how students describe their learning experiences in detail, actively creating healthy struggle: how students are appropriately challenged, monitoring the experience and focusing on the process: how we make sure to jump in when students are leaving the goldilocks zone of challenge--the window of opportunity between, “This is getting hard” and “I quit.” Then we must allow students ample time to reflect: too often I see teachers rushing to the next lesson without pausing for reflection. Without this step, students won’t truly absorb the experience. In my classroom, I highlight the students who struggled and grew through the process, rather than just the predominantly high achievers. I ask students to vocalize their struggles and we collectively problem solve with the student. Not only do students grow from their own experiences and failures, but we’re all able to learn from each other’s struggles and successes. It’s important to coach students through tough assignments so they can appreciate mistakes. When they see errors as a sign of weakness or incompetence, they’re likely to make more mistakes. But if we help them make room for wrong answers, they’ll learn to have successful failures and a true growth mindset.
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Curiosity may be the very thing that moves us toward a more just world. The alternative--an incurious world--may be one where prejudice and misery reign. Curiosity may be one of the essential ingredients to empathy, something that we can all agree the world could use a little more of right now.” I have heard that empathy is the ability to understand and share another person's feelings, and compassion is the action resulting from empathy.
I believe deeply in helping my neighbor--that by improving their lot, I’m improving the world. I don’t think being compassionate is a sign of weakness. In fact, I think being kind makes me a better leader and actually improves my creativity. Let me clarify, though, with my interpretation of “nice” and “kind.” Being nice might mean ignoring the spinach in your friend’s teeth when they smile at you (you don’t want to bring it up and hurt their feelings, right? Make the situation awkward?). Being kind, though, is telling them straight out that they have food in their teeth. Then they won’t spend the rest of the day smiling spinach-ly at everyone (and resenting your unwillingness to point it out in the first place). Sometimes the kind thing is harder, and more uncomfortable, than being nice. But being kind and making hard choices doesn’t mean acting rude. Not at all! We can certainly criticize constructively and debate with open minds. As Dr. Todd Kashdan points out, “A culture that values debate, criticism, and quarrelsome discussions [is] more productive, creative--and ironically--harmonious.” When we can work together as a team and band together to creatively solve problems, our roads are smoother. Issues get nipped in the bud. The key here is “respectfully.” Research by Abraham Carmeli, Jane Dutton, and Ashley Hardin shows that people who interact courteously--with presence, awareness, and positive regard--are more likely to exchange ideas. This kind of nonjudgmental collaboration results in new perspectives and the creation of original, unique resources. As I mentioned in my previous post, curiosity allows us to learn from our mistakes and grow. Respectful collaboration alongside curiosity can lead to constructive criticism and allow us all to work together creatively. Even when working alone, though, respect can up our creativity game. Remember when we were kindly telling our friend about the spinach in their teeth? This is the same sort of constructive voice we need in our own heads. Berating our own ideas won’t lead to more creativity. Who wants to take risks if we’re immediately torn down? Learning self-compassion is vital to our creative process. We need to collaborate with others without judgement, and we need to do the same with ourselves. Dr. Kristin Neff, a self-compassion expert, teaches that “self-compassion provides resilience during challenges, decreases stress and burnout, increases creativity and wisdom, and allows leaders to recognize and learn from their mistakes without shame.” Surely there’s no way to be truly curious--to take risks--if we can’t be kind and honest with ourselves. What the world needs is people who can solve difficult, interesting problems. If we can be present together and communicate in a way that eliminates division, we can be more creative together. Isn’t it obvious, then, that kindness, curiosity and creativity can change the world? While researching the creative process, I’ve consistently encountered the idea of a curious mind. Scientists refer to curiosity as a source of learning, a key component of mindfulness, and a precursor to innovation. At its core, curiosity is about an open eagerness to learn something. It’s like a conversation with a caring friend whose only interest is to see you grow through a dialogue of thoughtful reflection. Curiosity brings about a state of awe as we stare into the universe of knowledge and confront novel subjects. It motivates us to want to learn more. Curiosity is the soil of learning because it puts us in the mental state required to be open to the world, to build relevance in the content, and to take chances. It encourages the desire to master something and the passion to do it in the service of something larger than ourselves. A curious mind also allows space to learn from our failures and mistakes. This didn’t work. Why? What might work instead? By arming our attitudes with curiosity, we’re able to embrace a growth mindset and truly appreciate criticism. Creativity is part of a feedback loop that allows us to let go of our ego in the name of progress for everyone, growing from that soil of curiosity. Dr. Shauna Shapiro writes, “By remaining open to experiences, we are more likely to make connections between seemingly unrelated concepts, which is crucial to generating original ideas.” Having teachers collaborate--especially across departments and subject matter--is a great way to help students think outside the box. How do math and painting work together? History and writing? Biology and music? Collaborating within the classroom is useful, too. We need to utilize other people’s perspectives in order to see ourselves more clearly, more completely. It helps us to see beyond our own biases. “The most beautiful experience we can have is the mysterious. It is the fundamental emotion that stands at the cradle of true art and true science. Whoever does not know it and can no longer wonder, no longer marvel, is as good as dead, and his eyes are dimmed.” Everyone knows that Einstein failed at school, but few know why. The fact is, he couldn’t handle the factory approach to learning. He eventually fled that traditional system and ended up in a progressive Swiss school that he said nurtured his curiosity, a key component in his success. As he famously said, “I have no special talent. I am only passionately curious.”
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