Fall down seven times and stand up eight
Japanese proverb
We went skiing this weekend and I was thinking back on my short-lived career as a ski instructor. Jus t so you know, I learned to ski at 40. I’m not even close to being an expert skier- but I am a great teacher.
I was especially good at teaching adult beginners because (unlike some of the twenty-something hotshots) I could actually remember what it was like not to know how to ski. I could relate to the fear and anxiety that were mixed in with their excitement and desire to learn.
Everyone always says that kids always learn to ski much faster than adults, to the delight of the children and the grudging admiration of their parents. There are many reasons why this is so, but let me give you my theory.
The biggest reason it’s easier for children to learn to ski than adults is that until they’re about 12 or so, they aren’t afraid to fall.
It sounds simple, but that really is the biggest difference between kids and grownups on skis.
Grownups really don’t want to fall.
They don’t want to get hurt, but more than that, they don’t want to look stupid.
Kids aren’t really worried about getting hurt, and they don’t have the same self-consciousness that makes grownups constantly concerned about what others think of us.
I know that falling for a kid is way different than falling for an adult, but let’s try to make a few distinctions to understand why.
On the purely physical level, they are closer to the ground to start with, so they don’t have as far to fall. A child’s bones and joints have much more give in them than an adult’s, so they are actually less likely to be injured from a similar fall. Kids bounce. Adults (sometimes) break. And if we do get injured, it’s a real bummer because recovery time is much longer for adults. I’m still surprised by how long it takes some things to heal now that I’m past 40. It sucks!
All of which is to say, I get it.
But it seems to me that we adults are even more worried about the second possibility. Even if you don’t get hurt in a fall, you might look stupid. And this is where the objective reality of aging bodies is irrelevant. As grownups, we’re used to being in control of things. We learned to walk so long ago that the thought of slipping and falling on our bums is more threatening to our dignity than to our tailbones.
There were times I couldn’t even get someone to sit on the snow so I could show them how to stand up again. Needless to say, they usually didn’t stick around for long.
We like to project ourselves as calm, cool and collected. We are competent and in control. Except that before we’ve mastered something, it’s pretty messy. Awkward. We make mistakes and it’s not always pretty.
And this is where children really have the advantage on adult learners. They’re used to not being too good at things. They’re in situations all the time that show them just how much they don’t know.
I’m talking school, music lessons, sports teams, social interactions, overhearing adult conversations, etc, etc.
If you think about it, a child’s day is filled with not knowing, and not being able. And it’s not like they don’t get frustrated. Of course they do. But it’s such a constant experience, that they don’t let it stop them from learning.
The paradox of adult learners
I hear grownups say all the time that they love learning new things. But what they really mean is that they love having one more thing that they know, or that they’re good at doing.
But learning something new means that you will be bad at it, at least for a while. This might be a short while, or a long while, but it really can’t be helped. Most adults I know (including me!) don’t really enjoy this phase of the learning process because it challenges our sense of competence. But if we aren’t willing to fall down, how can we learn to stand up again?
The sad thing is that this stops us more often than we realize.
How many things do you not do, not try, not start, because you’re worried about looking stupid? Because you’re worried what ‘they’ (the great mythical they who watches over your every move!) will think?
Is there anything you’re good at being bad at? Please share in the comments!
{ 6 comments… read them below or add one }
My problem is once I learn how to do something and gain some competency, I lose interest. Like my art, I’m more interested in the process than the product. So learning? GREAT! But applying what I’ve learned? Eh…
.-= Kerrie´s last blog ..“Do I need a website?” =-.
Your skiing example reminded me of when I was learning to play rugby. In university. I was a grad student but others on the team were undergrads. The thing is we were girls. And even the girls who did other sports (most of them but not me) did not want to fall.
To the extent that the member of the men’s team that was coaching us actually made up a drill to teach us how to fall. And DIVE at the (muddy) ground. Because in rugby you actually have to touch the ball down to score, not just cross the line. And when folks are chasing you, that means diving over the line more often than not.
which makes me want to extend your metaphor. Because some folks are okay with falling and getting dirty if it is a legitimate part of the game. And they learn to do that well. (I think artists might recognize this around the messiness thing.)
But others hate the mess and dirt and potential for injury from hitting the ground, even if it is part of how the game is played. They need to unlearn that fear of falling in order to play the game well.
.-= JoVE´s last blog ..Common Problems with Grant Proposals =-.
I’m good at being bad when I’m interrupted. And I’m good at being too practical at times (aka “wet blanket” over hubby’s grand ideas). The first one (interruption) is something I truly try to control when it really does matter if I can’t stay on track … but sometimes (OK, almost always) the second one is exactly this not wanting to fall thing. You’re right about young children, and isn’t it fascinating how their self-esteem is so well formed in some ways that falling, literally in front of a crowd or metaphorically when striving to develop a new skill, isn’t a bad thing at all. I wonder if this is something we naturally grow out of as children or if it’s something adults “help” us learn. (In other words, are my actions and attitudes helping my five-year-old son to learn to be afraid/overly cautious/worried about appearances?)
In teaching adults to ski, my beloved was much more cruel than Liz: she’d stop beside them and push them over, both for the experience that falling on snow (generally) doesn’t hurt and to practice getting back up.
@Emily-Sarah… to answer your question about children- they don’t become self-conscious (conscious of themselves as truly separate entities) until somewhere around 9. Before that, they are not really able to look at themselves from the outside like we adults seem to do all the time. So that’s one of the reasons children aren’t afraid to ‘look stupid’ they can’t step outside their own experience far enough to imagine how another might see them.
@JoVE- Interesting- I had no idea about rugby- but I can see that diving for the ground wouldn’t come naturally! And I totally agree that artists (the best ones) get that it’s messy sometimes. Those who are afraid of the mess are the ones who don’t get very far.
@Kerrie- I’ve also had the experience of being excited about learning something, but not so excited once I’m competent. This makes me think of the sweet spot of flow where challenge is just about equal to ability. More challenge than ability= frustration. More ability than challenge= boredom.
@Carl- Wow! She was tough! I never pushed anyone over, but I always asked when folks did fall whether it hurt or not. Of course it didn’t, but I knew the students were much more likely to believe a fellow student than me!