Handling Failure
In 1993 I visited Ukraine for the first time—as a guest lecturer teaching American folk songs and folk tales, and teaching the Bible as literature to students at the Kharkiv Pedagogical University.
An elementary school in Kyiv, Ukraine
My students included teachers, university students, and people who wanted to learn English. One of my most eager students was a young university coed. Everyday she accompanied me on my way home, telling me stories about her life as a Young Pioneer (the Soviet youth group), telling political jokes from the Brezhnev era, and asking questions about America. The made the return to my apartment one of the most exciting parts of the day.
One day she invited me and a group of colleagues to visit the 6th grade classroom where she had first studied English. For her this was a big moment. She was her former teacher’s hero—bringing in a real native speaker of English, and the teacher opened the class by praising her. She was an example of a successful student.
We guests took turns telling the students about ourselves, our hometown, our families, and where we lived.
Then the teacher, eager to show us how well his students were progressing, asked if the students would like to tell us, in turn, about themselves. The class sat still, each student smiling; none of them volunteered to speak.
So the teacher pointed to one boy—I suspect the boy was one of the top students in the class—telling him to tell us something about himself. Let’s call the boy Sasha. Politely the Sasha stood beside his desk—these students spoke only when they had been given permission, and only after they had stood. But he did not know what to say. “Tell them something,” encouraged the teacher. But Sasha remained dumbfounded. He turned red, standing at a complete loss for words and embarrassed.
But it wasn’t only the boy who was feeling embarrassed. So was the teacher. Finally, in desperation, the teacher told the boy to sit down again andturned to us, the guests. “Sasha is a terrible student,” he said. “He never learns.”
I felt sorry for both the teacher and the student. The moment was expected to be the high point of the year for both of them. But suddenly both of them felt like failures—and we guests, not knowing what to do—were failures too.
I’ve often wondered if Sasha worked hard at his English lessons after that. Or if the teacher developed a fondness for Americans. Of if the class talked about our visit in subsequent days. Or what the teacher said to the class after we left. Or did my student ever go back to the class where she had been the hero? What effect does failure have on us?
I recently read an article about failure—what it does to us, and how to overcome it. You can find the article here.
I think we all suffered a kind of impoverishment that day: guests, teacher and students. I’m reminded of a comment by Mother Teresa: “We think sometimes that poverty is only being hungry, naked and homeless. The poverty of being unwanted, unloved and uncared for is the greatest poverty. We must start in our own homes to remedy this kind of poverty. One of the greatest diseases is to be nobody to anybody. Even the rich are hungry for love, for being cared for, for being wanted, for having someone to call their own.”
One way to help kids practice success is by doing art.
You can get your child started making art here for free.
When you do, you be sure to follow some simple rules that are part of the lessons. They will help insure art students feel successful.
In 1993 I visited Ukraine for the first time—as a guest lecturer teaching American folk songs and folk tales, and teaching the Bible as literature to students at the Kharkiv Pedagogical University.
An elementary school in Kyiv, Ukraine
My students included teachers, university students, and people who wanted to learn English. One of my most eager students was a young university coed. Everyday she accompanied me on my way home, telling me stories about her life as a Young Pioneer (the Soviet youth group), telling political jokes from the Brezhnev era, and asking questions about America. The made the return to my apartment one of the most exciting parts of the day.
One day she invited me and a group of colleagues to visit the 6th grade classroom where she had first studied English. For her this was a big moment. She was her former teacher’s hero—bringing in a real native speaker of English, and the teacher opened the class by praising her. She was an example of a successful student.
We guests took turns telling the students about ourselves, our hometown, our families, and where we lived.
Then the teacher, eager to show us how well his students were progressing, asked if the students would like to tell us, in turn, about themselves. The class sat still, each student smiling; none of them volunteered to speak.
So the teacher pointed to one boy—I suspect the boy was one of the top students in the class—telling him to tell us something about himself. Let’s call the boy Sasha. Politely the Sasha stood beside his desk—these students spoke only when they had been given permission, and only after they had stood. But he did not know what to say. “Tell them something,” encouraged the teacher. But Sasha remained dumbfounded. He turned red, standing at a complete loss for words and embarrassed.
But it wasn’t only the boy who was feeling embarrassed. So was the teacher. Finally, in desperation, the teacher told the boy to sit down again andturned to us, the guests. “Sasha is a terrible student,” he said. “He never learns.”
I felt sorry for both the teacher and the student. The moment was expected to be the high point of the year for both of them. But suddenly both of them felt like failures—and we guests, not knowing what to do—were failures too.
I’ve often wondered if Sasha worked hard at his English lessons after that. Or if the teacher developed a fondness for Americans. Of if the class talked about our visit in subsequent days. Or what the teacher said to the class after we left. Or did my student ever go back to the class where she had been the hero? What effect does failure have on us?
I recently read an article about failure—what it does to us, and how to overcome it. You can find the article here.
I think we all suffered a kind of impoverishment that day: guests, teacher and students. I’m reminded of a comment by Mother Teresa: “We think sometimes that poverty is only being hungry, naked and homeless. The poverty of being unwanted, unloved and uncared for is the greatest poverty. We must start in our own homes to remedy this kind of poverty. One of the greatest diseases is to be nobody to anybody. Even the rich are hungry for love, for being cared for, for being wanted, for having someone to call their own.”
One way to help kids practice success is by doing art.
You can get your child started making art here for free.
When you do, you be sure to follow some simple rules that are part of the lessons. They will help insure art students feel successful.
In 1993 I visited Ukraine for the first time—as a guest lecturer teaching American folk songs and folk tales, and teaching the Bible as literature to students at the Kharkiv Pedagogical University.
An elementary school in Kyiv, Ukraine
My students included teachers, university students, and people who wanted to learn English. One of my most eager students was a young university coed. Everyday she accompanied me on my way home, telling me stories about her life as a Young Pioneer (the Soviet youth group), telling political jokes from the Brezhnev era, and asking questions about America. The made the return to my apartment one of the most exciting parts of the day.
One day she invited me and a group of colleagues to visit the 6th grade classroom where she had first studied English. For her this was a big moment. She was her former teacher’s hero—bringing in a real native speaker of English, and the teacher opened the class by praising her. She was an example of a successful student.
We guests took turns telling the students about ourselves, our hometown, our families, and where we lived.
Then the teacher, eager to show us how well his students were progressing, asked if the students would like to tell us, in turn, about themselves. The class sat still, each student smiling; none of them volunteered to speak.
So the teacher pointed to one boy—I suspect the boy was one of the top students in the class—telling him to tell us something about himself. Let’s call the boy Sasha. Politely the Sasha stood beside his desk—these students spoke only when they had been given permission, and only after they had stood. But he did not know what to say. “Tell them something,” encouraged the teacher. But Sasha remained dumbfounded. He turned red, standing at a complete loss for words and embarrassed.
But it wasn’t only the boy who was feeling embarrassed. So was the teacher. Finally, in desperation, the teacher told the boy to sit down again andturned to us, the guests. “Sasha is a terrible student,” he said. “He never learns.”
I felt sorry for both the teacher and the student. The moment was expected to be the high point of the year for both of them. But suddenly both of them felt like failures—and we guests, not knowing what to do—were failures too.
I’ve often wondered if Sasha worked hard at his English lessons after that. Or if the teacher developed a fondness for Americans. Of if the class talked about our visit in subsequent days. Or what the teacher said to the class after we left. Or did my student ever go back to the class where she had been the hero? What effect does failure have on us?
I recently read an article about failure—what it does to us, and how to overcome it. You can find the article here.
I think we all suffered a kind of impoverishment that day: guests, teacher and students. I’m reminded of a comment by Mother Teresa: “We think sometimes that poverty is only being hungry, naked and homeless. The poverty of being unwanted, unloved and uncared for is the greatest poverty. We must start in our own homes to remedy this kind of poverty. One of the greatest diseases is to be nobody to anybody. Even the rich are hungry for love, for being cared for, for being wanted, for having someone to call their own.”
One way to help kids practice success is by doing art.
You can get your child started making art here for free.
When you do, you be sure to follow some simple rules that are part of the lessons. They will help insure art students feel successful.
