The Power of Not Knowing If You’ll Succeed

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Here’s a question I think is worth pondering, for children and adults alike, when did you last try something you weren’t sure you could do?  When did you last put yourself forward for something where success was not guaranteed?

Not the things that come easily or the activities where ability is already established. The things that make your stomach flip a little. The hand raised when the answer isn’t certain. The opportunity you are really not sure about. How we, as a school and as adults, respond to these situations matters more than we might realise.

A comfort zone isn’t a bad place. It’s warm, familiar and the confidence found there is real. But nothing in it can surprise you anymore and without surprise, without genuine challenge, growth quietly stalls.  The research on this is consistent: young people who regularly stretch beyond what feels safe develop stronger problem-solving skills, greater emotional regulation and a far more resilient sense of self. They don’t just get better at the thing they tried. They get better at trying. As adults, it can be instinctive to smooth the path, to protect children from disappointment or struggle. But in doing so, we can inadvertently deprive them of the very experiences that build lasting confidence.  

We often have a complicated relationship with failure, what it is, what it looks like, how we feel about it and how we move on from it. 

It is well known that J.K. Rowling was rejected by twelve publishers. Simone Biles has spoken openly about the falls, the doubt, the years of grinding work before the gold. Malala Yousafzai faced something far more terrifying than failure and chose to speak anyway. What makes these women successful isn’t an absence of setbacks. It’s the decision, made again and again, to continue.

Resilience isn’t a personality trait a child either has or has not. It’s a skill, built through practice. Every time a young person tries something difficult and survives the discomfort, whether they succeed or not, they add to a private store of evidence that they can handle hard things. That store becomes the foundation of genuine, durable confidence. 

That confidence opens doors and reinforces the idea that it is entirely acceptable, indeed encouraged, to try things you might not be brilliant at and grasp opportunities where there is no guarantee of success.

You can audition for the play even if someone else is the stronger actor. You can enter the writing competition without expecting to win. You can put your hand up, apply for the job, start the conversation, without needing a guarantee of success to justify the attempt. In fact, the attempt is the point.

The girl who tries things, who steps into rooms she’s not certain she belongs in, who asks the question, who applies for the leadership role, is building something far more durable than a string of easy wins. She’s building a relationship with her own capability that won’t collapse the first time life gets hard. And as adults, one of the most powerful things we can do is let her see that we value the attempt as much as the outcome. 

That is not to say we can get away with pretending that failure doesn’t sting (try getting away with that with Junior School aged children, there is often no filter and they will tell you in no uncertain terms if they think you are wrong!). Failure does hurt and pretending anything else is both unfair and unhelpful.  Where our focus is perhaps more productive is noticing the next moment they want to step back from something because they’re not sure they’ll succeed and encouraging them to step forward anyway.  It also means resisting the urge to intervene too quickly, and trusting that a child who struggles and finds her own way through is gaining something a smooth path could never offer.

The long game belongs to the risk-takers. Not because they win everything, but because they know they can survive not winning and keep going regardless.  They know that the only sure fire guarantee of not winning is not to put yourself in the race.

That capacity to try, to fall short, and to try again is one of the most important things a child can leave school with.

Sam Clark, Assistant Head

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