Leapfrogging mistakes

Sharing mistakes helps others avoid them

One autumn day my friend Judy gave me some of the most delicious, moist pumpkin bread I had ever eaten. Turns out it was baked by Gayle, a culinary veteran. I thought, “Maybe if I get Gayle’s recipe and hear any tricks she has, then I can skip over a lot of bad recipes and make my own scrumptious pumpkin bread.”

Soon after, Judy’s husband Doug taught a class on making homemade rolls. When he was first learning, he consulted with the experts, including his mother who showed him her way and then counseled, “You’ve got to find your own recipe, Doug.” So, he made rolls every day for a month, each time making adjustments to measurements and oven temperatures, changing pan sizes and types, and so forth. By practicing over and over, he discovered his own recipe for perfect rolls. Because he was willing to share both what did and didn't work, it’s now easier for me to make great homemade rolls. 

Chester Carlson, inventor of Xerography (better known as photocopying), spent 21 years trying to get his technology into the hands of the public, eventually revolutionizing how we do business today. Before he got the technology right, however, he is said to have made hundreds--even thousands--of mistakes, many of which he considered valuable enough to patent. Those errors, he believed, were equally critical to knowing what actually worked. So, mistakes are certainly worth something, even if it's just knowing how to avoid them.

Teenagers, I’ve noticed, are not as interested in leapfrogging mistakes as we adults seem to be. In fact, they kind of like “playing around in the pond.” Maybe they are not as anxious to get things right the first time because they think time stands still for them; what they don’t learn today they can always learn tomorrow. Besides, they’re busy having fun with friends also enamored with hopping around on lily pads and chatting with the turtles. In the meantime, they prefer making their own mistakes, thank you.

I, on the other hand, allow myself little luxury time for missteps. In short, I want to maximize my time by minimizing my mistakes. So, I find myself seeking out people who move to the front so I can play “Follow the Leader.”

Young adults fall somewhere in the middle. One of my favorite moments is when my children call home after their first few weeks of college life. They see our home through new eyes. Can I believe how much food costs? they wonder. Did I know that some people don’t even know how to do dishes or clean a toilet? Interestingly, though, these same now-enlightened grown teenagers who begin asking for advice still might choose to ignore my counsel. Yes, they’re more open to guidance but are still highly driven to learn from their own experience.

Once, one of our children asked my husband, “Dad, did you make the same mistakes I’m making?” I don’t even know how the conversation continued, but I’ve often thought since then what an advantage I have as a parent. I can share all my hard-earned wisdom as if I’ve always owned it, known it. Rarely do I expose my stupidity and youthful blunders. Maybe if I did, my children would seek me out more often to play leapfrog.