Saturday, October 8, 2011

Failure

While reading something else today, I encountered someone's favorite interview question:
Describe a time you failed at something, and what you did about it.  
Here are some answers.

Failure 1:  Last month.  Two of my research papers were rejected, within a week of each other.  That was a disappointment.  Two disappointments. Adding up to several months of rejected work.  

What did I do about it?  I gave myself a week for each paper, to mourn the failure.  Then I resubmitted each to another journal.  Now that they're both under review again, I find that I don't care so much about them.

Failure 2:  Last week.  And the week before.  And the week before that.  My graduate students asked me questions on the homework problems I had assigned, and I didn't know how to answer them.

What do I do about it?  I apologized, sent them away, thought about it overnight, then reported back.  Maybe I should try to get ahead on their homework, so this doesn't happen so frequently.

But those are mild failures, both.  Let's go back further and find bigger failures, with more lasting consequences.

Failure 3:  September 1999.  I failed my qualifying exam.  I had worked all summer to prepare for it, and taken a class on similar material the year before.  This was a big deal, because my graduate program would throw me out if I didn't pass by the end of a year.

What did I do about it?  I started from scratch.  I signed up (again) for the qualifying exam prep courses.  I formed study groups with my peers.  I walked through all the old qual problems I could find, and organized them into a binder.  I spent the next nine months learning the material so that I wouldn't fail again.  And I passed, in June 2000.  But that was a painful year.

Failure 4:  April 1998.  I failed to get into graduate school at the university my True Love decided to attend.  And he didn't seem to care about that at all.  So this was a double failure.  Failure at school, failure in love.  Again.

What did I do about it?  I went to graduate school somewhere else, and opened myself up to dating others.  When True Love and I decided it was worth the work to be together, I applied to his university again, this time armed with an independent fellowship, and was accepted.

So far all of my failures have happy endings.  Let's bring in some others.

Failure 5:  High school, junior year.  Tried out for the school dance team.  Failed so badly that the judges laughed at me.  They did.  I was devastated.

What did I do about it?  Crawled in a corner with a blanket over my head.  Did not ever leave the corner.  Decided dance was not for me.  Ever.  Again.

If this question ever comes up in an interview for me, I think I'm going with answer #5.  That's the answer the future employers of America are looking for.


3 comments:

Anonymous said...

I bet if you let the failures go and concentrate on what's good in your life - you'd have a longer list. Failures are the stepping stones to success.
Kris

Letterpress said...

I try not to focus on my failures at this point in my life, because then that's all I would see. But one spectacular one was trying out for cheerleader in 9th grade. Unmentionable. Ditto performing a scene for my drama class in 11th grade. Even the ham in me couldn't save me from the blistering critique from the teacher. Drama career over.

Since then I've failed at too many things, but after the divorce, which many view as a failure, I decided not to acquiesce to that viewpoint--because how then, could I have found my True Love? I had to go through that to get him. And finding him was Big Time success.

Dad always says, Life is a series of trade-offs.

But still, interesting post about failures.

Thora said...

Yikes, you failed your prelims? And you're a genius! (Not that this reflects poorly on you at all - the whole point of this is Avram is preparing for his prelims currently, and is worried about being good enough for them, and I'm worried too, and now I'm super worried.) But on the positive side, in the end you passed them - that things work out. Except for the dancing, I guess, but then, do you really want to trade your life and interests for dancing anyway?