Consider the five-point grading scale that is used by most of America’s schools. It may vary from location to location but is nearly identical to this model:
A=Excellent
B=GoodC=Average
D=Poor
F=Failing
The range varies by school and school system, but an A (including A plus and A minus) may be awarded for performance that is ranked between 90 and 100 percent. Grades B, C and D also have their ranges. When you think about it, only one grade provides no variation in the degree of achievement. When an F is earned, there is no range and no need for debate—you’ve failed and you know it.
The F—the granddaddy of bad grades—was like the bogeyman when I was growing up. I heard other kids talk about it, and I even knew the boy who was rumored to earn it regularly, but I never saw it for myself. I wanted desperately to ensure that I never did see it. Like a comic book villain, the F lurks in classroom hallways, dripping beads of scarlet sweat, carrying the stench of permanent marker and waiting to be unfurled on its next victim. Though it is not called in to work as much as its more noteworthy colleagues like the grades A and B and even the mediocre C, the F is more intimidating than its associates and always carries the shock factor. With each appearance, it shows up to rob children of their self-confidence, shame them for their lack of preparation and shout that they’re dumb.
This grading scale reinforces the notion that failure is the polar opposite of success. When we grow up, we carry our sensitivity about the scale into our jobs. We are outraged when our boss completes a performance review and includes a ranking that we are certain does not align with our performance. We rate everything from looks, to books to movies. So what happens when we set a goal and don’t get the result we hope for? We think about those rating scales and are stung all over again with the stigma carried from our school days.
What would happen if we started to think of failure not as the opposite of success but as the result of not trying? What if failure were not final but merely a step on the road to achievement? This way of thinking is new to me, although Thomas Edison understood it years ago. He said, “I have not failed. I've just found 10,000 ways that won't work.” What a concept! To find 10,000 ways that do not work to uncover one or two that do—and to experience each failure as a step toward success. How many of us have a fraction of that drive when it comes to our dreams?
If you are not where you want to be in a particular area of learning or achievement, why not start to set some clear goals and objectives? When I decided that there were several scenes of my book that could be improved, I took an online writing class and committed to making those scenes more engaging. It was a small step that made a big difference in the final product.
If you feel that something bigger than you is trapped inside of you, I encourage you to rethink failure. Prepare for 10,000 ways. Who knows? Even if you end up with a different outcome than the one you hoped for, your path may lead you to something you'd never imagined you could achieve!
