What’s Going On, by Greg Orear
The world was his oyster.
Taylor graduated last May as the valedictorian of a class of 73 students in small-town America. He was born and raised in this rural town of 4,500, one of many generations of his family to do so, including his grandfather who was a popular county judge.
As a child, Taylor never wanted for anything, either materially thanks to his family’s upper-middle class income in a small town, or in terms of affection as he was surrounded by a loving family.
A good-looking boy with brains to match, he excelled in the classroom and was popular outside of it, where he was elected prom king months before graduation.
He was also blessed athletically, receiving all-state honors in both football and track, while also utilizing his obvious leadership skills on the field.
And when he was accepted into Columbia University in New York City, the local newspaper revered him as the first graduate from the local high school to attend an ivy league institution.
So when Taylor left his hometown in August, promising to return one day as a heart surgeon, no one doubted him he would reach his goal.
Why would they? Taylor had always been a winner.
And that would be his undoing.
***
I don’t know if its human nature or a byproduct of the society we live in, but generally speaking, we are terrified of failure.
We avoid failing at all costs, and when we see others fail, we ridicule, shame or scorn them, or some combination thereof.
This fear of failure is most evident with parents and their children. We so badly want our children to succeed in life, we try to create an environment that is most conducive to “winning.” Maybe it’s extra lessons, or better equipment, or the right teacher, or simply new clothes with the right designer label, we want our children to do as well, or better, than their peers.
And most of all, we don’t want them to fail.
I’ve seen the same mindset permeate the business world, and sometimes, for good reason. You don’t want to assign tasks to employees they will struggle with completing. If, as a manger, you can play to their strengths, the work is completed faster, increasing efficiency and employee satisfaction while decreasing conflict.
This mindset is even more prevalent on the athletic field. In football, the fastest guy is going to be running with the ball while the biggest guy is going to be blocking for him or trying to tackle him. In baseball, the guy who can throw the hardest and with the best control is pitching, and when there’s a technical foul in basketball, the guy with the highest free throw percentage is going to step to the line.
But in life outside of the office and off the field, failure is a cornerstone for personal development.
And now, four months after her son hung himself in her basement, Taylor’s mother can’t help but wonder if that cornerstone wasn’t missing from his life.
***
It didn’t take long for Taylor to realize he was out of his element.
He would Facetime with his mom from his single-bed room, bemoaning his loneliness and inability to fit in. He was a small town kid living in the biggest city of them all, and yet he felt all alone.
He was doing fine in classes, but he was no longer the smartest kid in the room. Not by a long shot.
Coupled with the fact he was struggling to make friends, he went from the biggest fish in a tiny pond to an indistinguishable face in an ocean of millions just like him, but completely different.
He came home to celebrate his high school’s homecoming, and two weeks later, he would be back for good.
Tail firmly planted between his legs, his spirit was broken. He had not returned home as a successful heart surgeon. He had returned home … a failure.
His mother recognized his obvious struggles with extreme depression. She sought out professional help, but in rural America, the wait was long.
Taylor couldn’t wait. He died on a Friday.
“He’s never really experienced failure,” the mom said. “And he was so afraid of failing.”
***
Failure is an odd thing.
History is replete with great individuals who at one point and time in their distinguished lives, were complete failures.
Abe Lincoln went broke as a businessman, twice, suffered a nervous breakdown, and lost eight different elections. Michael Jordan was cut from his high school basketball team. Meryl Streep, at 27, was told she was “too ugly” to star in the 1970’s era King Kong remake.
Yet in each of these instances, these individuals had something inside of them that when they were rejected by the world, they could hit the reset button and start again. As a result, they would become legends in their fields.
And yet despite these examples, we try to avoid situations in our life where we will fail individually. We don’t want to push ourselves, at least not too far, and certainly not to a point where we might threaten our comfort zone.
So what does all this mean? What will I do differently with my children to make sure they have experienced failure and learn how to react to and learn from it? Honestly, I don’t know.
But just as important is how I view failure and respond to it when I see it in others. Our society does not respond well to failure. Grace, support and encouragement are not common. Ridicule, shame and scorn is.
That has to change. We need to learn to fail because no matter how hard we try to live in a safe cocoon, or immerse our children in one, life is going to happen. And when life happens, there will be challenges. There will be pitfalls.
There will be failures.
And we need to know how to deal with that.
——
Gregory Orear is the publisher of The Journal. His award-winning weekly column, What’s Going On, has been published in four newspapers in three states for more than 20 years. He can be contacted at gorear@nujournal.com.
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