By Krystal Sieben 
One of the greatest gifts I can give my kids is for them to see me fail.
When I was little, I distinctly remember seeing my parents as parents and not really as people. (I think that’s true for most kids.) As I reflect, I can’t remember a time when I saw my parents try out for something and not get it. Like a new job, promotion, award, or anything like that. Maybe it’s because they weren’t really doing those things, but maybe it’s because they didn’t share it. I’m not sure.
I’m in a unique position as a mom—due to the different hats I wear, I get to try for things quite a bit . . . and quite often, I don’t get them. Case in point: writing. There are many, many, many times I have a good idea (or so I think!) only to be met with the publisher’s passing on it. In my work as a director of a nonprofit, I ask for grants all the time, and I hardly ever get them. Like ever. As a photographer, I have entered my share of contests, and again, often, I don’t win.
These moments—these failures, these times of not getting what I want—are always lessons. Lessons in patience, dedication, humility, and self-reflection. Does it sting when you put your work, your heart out there, and for whatever reason, it’s not chosen? Absolutely. In fact, I write this now after being turned down for yet another grant opportunity.
It’s these situations though, that I believe, our kids really need to see. Not just the wins, but all the effort and trying before, during, and after the wins. Each time I receive a grant rejection, I announce it to the whole family. I verbalize, in a measured way, how much I was hoping for that one or that I really thought I’d get it. Any time I submit a piece of writing that isn’t chosen, I tell my kids in an even tone: shoot, I thought that one was really going to strike a chord. Each time I lose out on a photography contest . . . “I didn’t get it this time guys,” I tell my family.
Then, there is the occasional win. An anonymous donation to the nonprofit, being selected for a book, and the occasional photo showing up in a magazine.
The takeaway I want my kids to see is that trying is 90% and winning is 10% (if you are lucky). I want them to see all the behind-the-scenes work that happens to achieve goals. I want them to see my reaction to losing as measured, knowing that it’s okay to have feelings about it, but losses aren’t always personal—sometimes we just aren’t the right fit for something, and that’s okay.
Most of all, I want them to see the effort I put into the things that are important to me, and that setbacks are all a part of it. Winning isn’t an endpoint, and losing isn’t the end. It’s all about finding the things we love and giving it our best shot every time.
by Laura Domer-Shank 
by Angela Williams Glenn 
