I have been a teacher on and off for the past 19 years. School has predictable comforting rhythms, all the while facilitating the spark of new understanding. I appreciate that in this profession there is a framework for reflection and deepening knowledge for students and teachers alike. It is a unique petri dish of growth medium where I can propel change and experience change in myself. It is a colorful symbiosis.

I have a particular group of art students with a troubling mindset, the tackling of which has become a pet project. Their world view can be encapsulated thus: perfect execution leads to a perfect product and at no point is failure observable. As a bystander I can see that their theory is flawed. I watch it break down on a daily basis and it can be horrifying.

They hold intransigently to the notion of being either smart or dumb, gifted or incompetent. The needle can never move and at no point are they able to harness tenacity or hard work to achieve success. Their pursuit of perfection short circuits their creativity every time and devolves into harsh criticism for their efforts and accomplishments. For those who believe themselves truly incapable, they tend to engage themselves in the tedium of avoiding work altogether. There is a loathsome fear of failure because it is seen as a threat to identity, to personhood.

While I was busy rescuing their mindset from a perfectionist wasteland — only slightly effectually — I inadvertently affected my own belief system. I had compartmentalized my own purist views; my mindset was just as inflexibly fixated on perfectionism and I shared the very same dread of failure. I was entrapped by my own stagnant ideology so much so that I determined not to try if I couldn’t instantly create something sublime.

I am not really the type who can knowingly persist in duplicity. I am a terrible liar, even to myself. I discovered I was just as guilty as my students. My only response was to practice what I was preaching. I am working overtime to leave those harmful perceptions of success and failure behind me. I keep reminding myself that first drafts are always bad and I don’t have to know everything today. Surprisingly — perhaps only to myself — I am finding satisfaction in pushing forward incrementally each day without my internal critic insulting the effort as futile, even in the face of my failings.