Weekend-Engagement #301 / My Best Failure

A Necessary Introduction

My life has been a roller coaster. In these 60 years of life, I have experienced many failures. I must say that I have learned from many of them, while others, on the other hand, caused depressions and difficult times. But not everything in my life has been negative, because I have been happy and, to some extent, failures have served as a bridge to achieve that happiness.

Like many, I have had failures in love, work, family, or in attempts to start a business.

But the failure that has helped me the most in life and was part of the personality I managed to build has to do with my profession, and it is the life experience I want to share in this initiative proposed by @galenkp, which is already on its 301st edition.

The Beginnings

In 1986, I began teaching Geography. I must say I did so by covering a position for a colleague who was on maternity leave. In 1987, the colleague returned to her position, and I had two options: go to another school to continue teaching Geography or venture into teaching Labor Education, for which there was an opening.

Since I felt comfortable at the school, I chose the second option and stayed. I must also add that I had never taught Labor Education before.

The Failure

I didn't have to go far to realize my mistake, because I didn't understand the subject well nor did I have experience in it. But what ultimately dealt me the final blow was an 11-year-old student. Let me briefly tell you:

I was presenting the most commonly used tools in the carpentry workshop, and for one of them, I asked its name and no one answered. Facing the silence, I told myself I was the best and these kids didn't know more than I did. I said, "This is a large plane." Then a boy raised his hand and told me that his grandfather called that tool a garlopín (a type of jointer plane). Immediately, something similar happened when I presented another tool, resembling a sickle for cutting rice, with teeth like a saw. When I asked, no one answered. I said it was a small saw, and the same boy raised his hand and told me that his grandfather called it a verduguillo (a type of keyhole saw).

Thank goodness recess came to save me.

I called the boy over and asked him what his grandfather did for work, and he told me he worked in a carpentry shop.

After I finished talking with the boy, I decided to go to the Human Resources department and request to be relieved of my duties.

Lessons from this Failure

From that moment on, I decided that I would never again teach a subject in which I lacked the knowledge to provide quality classes.

I decided that whenever I was going to teach a class, give a lecture, or do another activity, I had to prepare myself in the best possible way because there were always people in the audience who had knowledge of the subject at hand.

I learned to respect and value my students because, beyond being minors, they could have knowledge of the subject I was teaching, and the best way to respect them was to prepare myself very well.

But the most important thing was that I couldn't continue pretending or teaching Labor Education just to earn a salary when I wasn't comfortable.

Aftermath

The following year, I stopped seeing that mistake as a punishment and began to use Labor Education as a source. I incorporated Geography in my own way: we analyzed the origin of the wood, the economic circuits of local hardware stores, the territorial impact of industrial workshops. Without knowing it, I was building my own path. That's when everything fell into place, because I wasn't just giving classes: I traveled with the students through the mountain ranges using maps, we dissected cities, discussed climate change as if the classroom were a research center.

I dedicated myself to my specialty because I left behind the arrogance of the diploma and learned the humility of the craft.

A Final Comment

40 years later, I have run into former students. Some remember me as the clumsy Labor Education teacher, but most remember me as the great teacher I was and who, thanks to them, became professionals in this specialty and others.

The initial failure was my best map: it taught me that you don't teach what you know, but who you are. Today, I wouldn't trade that year of failure for anything, because it was the one that forced me to stop giving lectures and start listening. And that, after all, is the true geography of the soul.

Note: The images are my property.

The translator used was DeepL Translate.