Failure Through the Eyes of My Daughter

Below is a paper I found on the kitchen counter written by my 18-year old daughter. Jennifer is currently in her senior year of high school and will be going off to college in the Fall of 2017. I am proud of the kind, loving, and responsible young woman she is, and admire the empathy she has for others.

Written by Jennifer Rowley:

Having grown up around Silicon Valley, and with both of my parents and many of my friends' parents involved with technology, I have been exposed to the "positives" of failure. Phrases like "Fail Fast; Fail Often;" "I eat failure for breakfast," and "Failure is a badge of honor" were commonly expressed. I must admit that these phrases were actually confusing, particularly because I was being bombarded simultaneously with messages like "Failure is not an option," "You have to work hard to succeed," "If you don't get great grades, you won't get into the right schools." Out of this somewhat mixed messaging, what I have learned from failure is how to process the experience.

I have been fortunate that to date my failures have not been overly traumatic. My family would laugh if they read this, recalling my tears and angst at the time. This is all part of my processing. Two "failures" stand out for how traumatic they felt at the time, but more importantly, what I learned about myself.

When I didn't make National Honor Society "NHS" in the fall of the 10th grade, I was crushed. I thought my academic career was over. What was worse, though, was I deflected the shortcomings in my application, specifically that I didn't have enough community service, and instead blamed the process. It was politics; it was teacher's favorites; it wasn't fair; it was someone else's fault. That next week, I struggled to go to certain classes and see friends who had made NHS. I couldn't be happy for them. That is not the type of person I was striving to be. I learned that I can't allow personal failure to impact friendships. I also respected what the advisor had noted about my need for more community service. I found causes and organizations that I wanted to support. That year, in addition to my youth coaching, I started the Stand Up to Cancer Club, volunteered at a children's hospital event, and raised money for autism on behalf of my cousin. I learned much about myself, and I made NHS in the Spring.

This year, I didn't earn a place in our highest performing unit of choir, "Chambers". Performing with this group has been a goal of mine throughout the four years I have been in the choral program. All indications led me to believe I was going to make it. I had put a significant amount of time into preparing and practicing for my audition. It was the most I had ever prepared for an audition. It's also important to note that, similar to NHS, my fellow applicants or competitors were very good friends. When the names came out on the website, I could not comprehend how I had not made it. I had put in the time. I had performed a great audition. It took me several days and many tears to process. What I took away is that I am still an accomplished vocalist; I simply wasn't in the top sixteen at that moment. There will be times when I'm not the right fit for an opportunity. I am proud to say, I was able to congratulate those who made it and to console others who didn't.

I am still learning what failure means. Because of the experiences above, I am focused on how I will respond to failure in the future. I know that in my life there will be failure and that it has many definitions. What is most important is how I continue to grow and learn from these experiences. My favorite reflection on failure, and to which I will refer when I fail next, comes from Thomas Edison: "I have not failed. I have just found 10,000 ways that won't work."

I believe my daughter's paper illustrates the tension between embracing failure and being embarrassed by it. Think about it -- nobody lists their failures on their LinkedIn profile, startups don't issue press releases when they shutdown, companies can't highlight failures on earnings calls. Failure isn't fun, but it's real and it's universal.

I take away from Jennifer's reflection two things for all us:

1.  You won't truly know yourself until you've admitted failure;

2.  Failure helps us strip away what's inessential.

What do you take away?

Jill Rowley wants to connect every person (and device) she encounters. You can engage with her on LinkedIn and Twitter if you need help digitally transforming your sales organization.