Fifteen years ago, I was holding my breath in the backseat of our beloved red Camry. My husband was in the passenger seat giving a driving lesson to my 16-year-old sister Emma. She had just gotten her permit and wanted to learn how to drive in the city. We were returning from a nerve-racking tour around the block and we were about to learn how to park in the empty space next to our truck. I had resorted to just looking down at this point. My nerves couldn’t take it, but I promised I’d keep quiet. She needed to learn and I didn’t want to make her nervous.
Emma was nervous – grip a little too tight, body a little too short and leaning forward, and a little too young to be driving, I thought. While pulling into the spot, with the angle not quite right, she ended up hitting our car with our car! I wanted to yell, I wanted to tell her to be careful, but I stayed quiet. My husband calmly described how to pull into the space and how her current approach was flawed. She followed his lead and parked. While parked, we all talked about the drive, things that she could improve, and we made a point to talk about the things she did well. We checked for damage (totally minor), then Emma put the car in reverse and backed out of the space for another white-knuckled tour of the neighborhood.
I often look back on this memory as a lesson on how to deal with failure, patience, and growth. It’s a reminder that we were all new at something once. When we’re teaching children to walk, read, or drive, we make a point to encourage them. That encouragement propels them and puts the focus on their accomplishments rather than their fears. Accomplishments sometimes are on the other side of that fear.
This peer encouragement tends to dissipate when we become adults. Sometimes it is replaced with judgement or disappointment, which can squash the intellectual curiosity needed to try new things. As adults, we’re expected to know what we’re doing. However, in order to learn new things, we must be willing to admit that we don’t know something, and we must also be willing to try, fail, and try again.
Your network of people is also important. Just as a network of supportive teachers, family members, and friends is important when encouraging children, this same network can exist as adults. The possibilities for this supportive network are endless as we have more control over who we surround ourselves with. Whenever you’re learning something new you are going to make mistakes, but you can’t let that hinder your ability to learn and grow. If I had let my emotions loose, I could have easily discouraged Emma from trying to do something new. Learning from family was a safe way for her to learn to drive, and a safe way to fail (crash). Today, Emma is a good driver, though she is not much taller than she was that day, she is no longer nervous, and I no longer have to stare at the floor as her passenger.