We can learn from our mistakes, right? In my case, I hope I've learned from them. In chronological order, here are several mistakes-- some of them serious ones-- that I hope to have learned from. This list, you would expect, doesn't cover all of my mistakes.
1. Third grade: My class was reading out loud the countries of Africa. As we did, I zeroed in on one that I was certain we'd missed: Niger. In fact, the teacher had read this country, but I pronounced it differently in my mind, so that I believed we had not yet read it. Ever eager to please, I shot my hand up to correct the teacher. He called on me, at which point I stated, "You missed one." "Which one," he replied.
Here, then, is the crucial point of the story. Had I known that the word I was about to utter was a bad one, I would certainly have kept my mouth shut. Had I know that we had, in fact, read this country, I certainly would have relented. Neither of these things were true, however, and the next word I said led to a gasp from the other students that did little more than confuse me.
My teacher, whom I had trusted as a kind man, grew angry and sent me directly to the office. I left the room crying, not quite understanding what I had done wrong. When I told my principal what happened, she understood that it was an unintentional mistake, and informed me that the word I spoke was a "bad" one. I reentered the class, calmer now, and more aware now of that particular African country than of any other on Earth.
Lesson: If most of the people around you don't catch something apparently simple, it's likely you are the one mistaken. In short, don't jump to conclusions.
2. Fifth grade: I approached a group of kids gossiping about a girl around a brick tree planter. Even though I thought this girl was nice, and would even have considered her a friend, I said something bad about her to fit in with the others. At just this moment, the girl walked up behind me and said, "Thanks, Tony," then walked away with her friends, angry. I followed, trying to repair the damage. Eventually, she forgave me, but it took time.
Lessons: Don't talk badly about others. Search for acceptance from trustworthy sources and not from other people.
3. Twelfth grade: I was racing go-carts on the outskirts of a nearby town, on a field where people go four-wheeling in their pick-up trucks. Around this field was a dirt track where we raced. I was well behind my friend, getting dust in my eyes and mouth and generally frustrated at the heat, dirt, and the feelings associated with defeat. To speed up the race and possibly get back into it, I cut across the field to overtake my friend, nor realizing there were deep, dried-up tracks from the four-wheeling. As the ride grew increasingly bumpy, most would likely begin to slow down. In my mind, though, I felt I could get through the problem more quickly if I sped up, so that's what I did. I stepped hard on the accelerator. I had only a split second to realize this was probably not the best choice, because moments later I flipped the go-cart, its roll-bar landing on my arm. I got out, confused, and walked away from the upturned cart.
The owner of the go cart I flipped, a kind woman, raced around on a motorbike to pick me up and make sure I was okay. I had broken my arm once, and because this didn't hurt nearly as bad as that, I was saying to her, "It doesn't hurt that bad," to which she replied, "That's why God gave us adrenaline."
By the time I reached the medical clinic, the bump on my arm was a good two inches high. My mom and I speculated that it could be my bone, but I had the feeling it wasn't because I knew a break like this would lead to an immense amount of pain. As it turned out, this bump-- which has since receded but still remains-- was inflammation of torn muscle tissue.
Lesson: Be patient. Don't let your emotions drive negative behavior.
4. Twelfth grade: I attended a tournament as part of my school's small track team. Having finished our planned events, our coach approached us and said we had no one to run the hundred-meter. When others hesitated at her request for a runner, I cheerfully volunteered.
The magnitude of my mistake wasn't clear until the race began, when I quickly learned just how little-prepared for the event I truly was. I came in last place, with several hundred people watching. I must say I wasn't necessarily disappointed that I tried here, but I was clearly underprepared.
Lesson: Have enough self-awareness that you understand your abilities.
5. Early twenties: As a counselor at a summer camp, I was chosen to represent the adult for our cabin group in a belly flop contest. I had a special move planned out, one I used on my family's large trampoline at home, called "the fish." The fish is a move that looks like a salmon swimming upstream, its body wavering violently up and down as it struggles to move up the river. When it came to my turn, the crowd of hundreds around this swimming pool grew silent. Then, poised, I leaped with all my might and performed my trick. I quickly learned, though, that what is harmless on a trampoline can be devastating in a swimming pool. My right ear took the brunt of the impact from my collision with the water, and I found underneath that water a strong ringing and general feeling of disorientation. I could not hear from this ear when I surfaced, and learned that I had blown my eardrum. My hearing recovered, but not completely.
Lesson: The proper functioning of critical parts of your body are more important than acceptance.
6. Mid twenties: I returned to this same camp as a summer staff member. I wanted a summer away from home. After only a week away, I became homesick and wanted to go home, so I quit. When I told my fellow staff I was leaving, I noticed a general sense of disappointment from them. At least one seemed sincerely hurt. I have to say that this decision to return home is one of the events in my life that I most regret. I would take it back in an instant if I could. In fact, I have tried to get in contact with the young lady in charge of us to apologize for the burden I caused her as she had to find my replacement, but I haven't been able to get in touch with her. She has since moved on to another job, to my knowledge. There is a silver lining in this event. I had considered not continuing my education, but coming home allowed me to take a summer class that pushed me to finish. For all I know, this event could have been the key event that allowed me to earn my degree.
Lesson: Don't quit.
7. Late twenties: A new church I was apart of needed a worship leader. I knew a little on the guitar, enough to play a few worship songs, so I volunteered (apparently I had not yet learned my lesson from number four). It started out fairly well, and though I made mistakes here and there, they weren't so bad that we couldn't worship. On one particular day, however, despite my practice, I made several mistakes on a fairly simple song. That was the end of my role as a worship leader. I must say I grew in that role, however, so I don't believe it wasn't a worthless experience.
Lesson: Know your limits.
Like I said, there are many more mistakes, but these are a few of the more memorable ones. I do value these experiences, as I believe they taught me something about risk, and I don't think I would trade most of those experiences if I could.
1. Third grade: My class was reading out loud the countries of Africa. As we did, I zeroed in on one that I was certain we'd missed: Niger. In fact, the teacher had read this country, but I pronounced it differently in my mind, so that I believed we had not yet read it. Ever eager to please, I shot my hand up to correct the teacher. He called on me, at which point I stated, "You missed one." "Which one," he replied.
Here, then, is the crucial point of the story. Had I known that the word I was about to utter was a bad one, I would certainly have kept my mouth shut. Had I know that we had, in fact, read this country, I certainly would have relented. Neither of these things were true, however, and the next word I said led to a gasp from the other students that did little more than confuse me.
My teacher, whom I had trusted as a kind man, grew angry and sent me directly to the office. I left the room crying, not quite understanding what I had done wrong. When I told my principal what happened, she understood that it was an unintentional mistake, and informed me that the word I spoke was a "bad" one. I reentered the class, calmer now, and more aware now of that particular African country than of any other on Earth.
Lesson: If most of the people around you don't catch something apparently simple, it's likely you are the one mistaken. In short, don't jump to conclusions.
2. Fifth grade: I approached a group of kids gossiping about a girl around a brick tree planter. Even though I thought this girl was nice, and would even have considered her a friend, I said something bad about her to fit in with the others. At just this moment, the girl walked up behind me and said, "Thanks, Tony," then walked away with her friends, angry. I followed, trying to repair the damage. Eventually, she forgave me, but it took time.
Lessons: Don't talk badly about others. Search for acceptance from trustworthy sources and not from other people.
3. Twelfth grade: I was racing go-carts on the outskirts of a nearby town, on a field where people go four-wheeling in their pick-up trucks. Around this field was a dirt track where we raced. I was well behind my friend, getting dust in my eyes and mouth and generally frustrated at the heat, dirt, and the feelings associated with defeat. To speed up the race and possibly get back into it, I cut across the field to overtake my friend, nor realizing there were deep, dried-up tracks from the four-wheeling. As the ride grew increasingly bumpy, most would likely begin to slow down. In my mind, though, I felt I could get through the problem more quickly if I sped up, so that's what I did. I stepped hard on the accelerator. I had only a split second to realize this was probably not the best choice, because moments later I flipped the go-cart, its roll-bar landing on my arm. I got out, confused, and walked away from the upturned cart.
The owner of the go cart I flipped, a kind woman, raced around on a motorbike to pick me up and make sure I was okay. I had broken my arm once, and because this didn't hurt nearly as bad as that, I was saying to her, "It doesn't hurt that bad," to which she replied, "That's why God gave us adrenaline."
By the time I reached the medical clinic, the bump on my arm was a good two inches high. My mom and I speculated that it could be my bone, but I had the feeling it wasn't because I knew a break like this would lead to an immense amount of pain. As it turned out, this bump-- which has since receded but still remains-- was inflammation of torn muscle tissue.
Lesson: Be patient. Don't let your emotions drive negative behavior.
4. Twelfth grade: I attended a tournament as part of my school's small track team. Having finished our planned events, our coach approached us and said we had no one to run the hundred-meter. When others hesitated at her request for a runner, I cheerfully volunteered.
The magnitude of my mistake wasn't clear until the race began, when I quickly learned just how little-prepared for the event I truly was. I came in last place, with several hundred people watching. I must say I wasn't necessarily disappointed that I tried here, but I was clearly underprepared.
Lesson: Have enough self-awareness that you understand your abilities.
5. Early twenties: As a counselor at a summer camp, I was chosen to represent the adult for our cabin group in a belly flop contest. I had a special move planned out, one I used on my family's large trampoline at home, called "the fish." The fish is a move that looks like a salmon swimming upstream, its body wavering violently up and down as it struggles to move up the river. When it came to my turn, the crowd of hundreds around this swimming pool grew silent. Then, poised, I leaped with all my might and performed my trick. I quickly learned, though, that what is harmless on a trampoline can be devastating in a swimming pool. My right ear took the brunt of the impact from my collision with the water, and I found underneath that water a strong ringing and general feeling of disorientation. I could not hear from this ear when I surfaced, and learned that I had blown my eardrum. My hearing recovered, but not completely.
Lesson: The proper functioning of critical parts of your body are more important than acceptance.
6. Mid twenties: I returned to this same camp as a summer staff member. I wanted a summer away from home. After only a week away, I became homesick and wanted to go home, so I quit. When I told my fellow staff I was leaving, I noticed a general sense of disappointment from them. At least one seemed sincerely hurt. I have to say that this decision to return home is one of the events in my life that I most regret. I would take it back in an instant if I could. In fact, I have tried to get in contact with the young lady in charge of us to apologize for the burden I caused her as she had to find my replacement, but I haven't been able to get in touch with her. She has since moved on to another job, to my knowledge. There is a silver lining in this event. I had considered not continuing my education, but coming home allowed me to take a summer class that pushed me to finish. For all I know, this event could have been the key event that allowed me to earn my degree.
Lesson: Don't quit.
7. Late twenties: A new church I was apart of needed a worship leader. I knew a little on the guitar, enough to play a few worship songs, so I volunteered (apparently I had not yet learned my lesson from number four). It started out fairly well, and though I made mistakes here and there, they weren't so bad that we couldn't worship. On one particular day, however, despite my practice, I made several mistakes on a fairly simple song. That was the end of my role as a worship leader. I must say I grew in that role, however, so I don't believe it wasn't a worthless experience.
Lesson: Know your limits.
Like I said, there are many more mistakes, but these are a few of the more memorable ones. I do value these experiences, as I believe they taught me something about risk, and I don't think I would trade most of those experiences if I could.
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