He was convinced he didn’t want to write about a superhero. I listened as I drove. He confessed from the back seat through cloudy eyes. Our puppy laid beside William, as puppies are known to do at 55 mph on a country road.
“If you want to win this contest, you’re going to have to make it about a superhero, buddy. That’s the rule.”
“I know I’m not going to win.”
(Did you hear what I just heard?)
“How do you know you aren’t going to win?”
It took encouraging but he eventually copped, “Because I don’t have good ideas.”
More tears.
It hurts retelling it now. My boy, who I consider a walking idea machine, has been infiltrated at 8. One of my unspoken commitments is to never allow my children to defeat themselves. I was too late. I didn’t think it happened this early. How foolish.
“That’s it!? You’re worried you don’t have good ideas?”
“Yeah.”
“That’s great! I can help you with that. Daddy comes up with ideas for a living.”
Now I had his attention.
I went on to walk him through a few steps. It’s impossible to know you’re not going to win a contest whose winner is yet to be selected. He’s a smart kid though and let me know you can’t be disappointed if you don’t enter. That way you can’t lose. So you don’t have to worry about it. Sheesh. This kid is even smarter than I thought. I let him know you also can’t win. And you can’t get any better if you only do things you’re already great at. Some things are worth doing even if you don’t win. The most valuable prize is often learning what you’re capable of. And so on.
But I still had to address his self-defeating attitude. I chose to share with him all the times people have told me how bad I am at what I do. A lot of people think I suck at writing. Many of them think I suck at advertising. If you judge solely on the complaints we receive, they’re right. But what about the praise we receive? From our clients and their customers? From our readers? How can two groups have such wildly opposite yet equally enthusiastic opinions of the same thing? The admiration and the acrimony fade. What’s left is the work and you. When it comes to the naysayers, realize there are already enough of them. You don’t need to add yourself to their ranks. No negative self-talk. You don’t have space for that. You’re too talented, too full of beauty and life to give in to that.
“So, you think you can win this contest?”
“Yes!”
“Do you want to win this contest?”
“Yes!”
“Then you’re going to need to make it about a superhero. What if you came at if from a different angle, though? What’s one of the things this will be judged on again?”
“Originality.”
“Perfect! Let’s come up with some ideas.”
He grabbed his notebook and began jotting down ideas. His ideas, not mine. It was slow at first. He didn’t want to trust his ideas. I gave him some techniques for generating ideas. He adapted quickly. William now has the beginnings of a great idea list. My favorite, so far, is about a town invaded by crazed alien hot dogs.
I don’t care if he wins this contest. I care how he sees himself and others as he grows into the man he’s becoming.
I should mention this whole conversation started when I asked him to read the flyer announcing the Comic Contest at his school. This kid is a reader, yet it was painful getting him to read it clearly and at a volume I could hear. Is it a coincidence that he struggled to read the flyer while this internal battle between courage and doubt raged? Nope. His inner conflict manifested as lack of interest and difficulty with basic reading and recitation. This didn’t click for me until later. How powerful our beliefs truly are.
You were 8 once. You had ideas. Your beliefs about yourself and others decided where you ventured.
How’s that turning out?
(Here’s someone who’s still searching it out at 80. Just in case you think your age gets you off the hook. Special thanks to Dr. Roger Firestien for his training in problem solving and idea generation.)
