I am back in school, and I love the first few days when students are lost or confused about where they need to be. Even the 8th graders seek out help. I love it. It’s a reminder that we were all once new to something. That we all, at some point, needed gentle reminders. That we had to adjust or readjust to doing things a new way after doing them differently just the year before.
Being new to things requires patience. A lot of it.
At 37 years old, I am playing tennis for the first time. I took an interest in it in high school but barely attended one practice. It seemed like a lot of running, so I stuck to the rivers and lakes I was used to (volleyball and softball). But now, at the request of my spouse, I am giving it a shot. It’s fun. It’s still a lot of running, but less than my teenage brain anticipated.
What does not feel fun is feeling like a failure at it because it’s taking me longer than I would like to get the hang of the basics. We’ve played a total of five times, maybe six hours altogether, but I still struggle with my form and hitting the ball correctly.
Failing feels like not being good enough. I know feelings are not always a proper representation of the truth, but knowing that doesn’t make me feel it any less.
I try to encourage my students to push through this exact feeling. I tell them that they’re learning. That they aren’t supposed to know everything yet. That asking for help is okay. I remind them that getting something wrong the first, second, or fifth time doesn’t mean they’re incapable of learning it.
Apparently, I need the same reminder.
There is something humbling about being a beginner as an adult. We spend so much of our lives becoming competent at things that it can be uncomfortable to willingly put ourselves in situations where we have no idea what we’re doing. I want to skip ahead to the version of me who knows where to stand, how to hold the racket and can consistently hit the ball over the net.
But I don’t get to skip this part.
So, for now, I’m learning to be new at something again. To ask questions. To practice. To miss the ball and try again. And maybe to give myself some of the same patience I so freely give the students wandering the halls looking for their classrooms.
A Note to Self
You’re allowed to be bad at something you just started.
Keep playing.
Life of Neu 