“If at first you don’t succeed…” — William Edward Hickson
I deliberately left the rest of this quote blank because there are so many other ways it could end. The original version says, “try, try again.” Really? Must we always try again? What if you failed at something like ax throwing? It’s a trendy new activity for bars and restaurants, but failing when an ax is involved usually means a trip to the ER. Is that really a goal you want to chase?
I have failed at math my whole life. Anything beyond about a fifth-grade level, and I need an abacus, three extra hands, and a wizard. Ha, I kid — I don’t know how to use an abacus. I didn’t have a choice about math class; I had to keep trying because school is like that — if you don’t pass math, you don’t graduate. Once I finished my education, I made peace with giving up on algebra, fractions, and whatever an exponent is.
Just like there are many ways to measure success, the same is true for giving up. No one mocks you for giving up certain habits. If you smoke and give it up, you’re a hero! If you’re Catholic and give up sweets for Lent, especially if you are a child, you’re likely to get rewarded at Easter with a giant basket of candy. I should probably give up my habit of annoying people on social media, but that’s unlikely to happen because, at any given moment, someone is annoyed by my mere presence on social media, and that’s on them, not me.
When is it OK to look at a task, a skill, or a situation and say, “I am done here, I quit?” I think we each need to decide that for ourselves. I tried skiing once — I hated it. Friends convinced me it’s not uncommon to lose a thumbnail buckling ski boots and get an epic wedgie on the tow bar, so I tried again. I still hated it and haven’t gone back, nor will I. I have dozens of friends who love it, and sometimes they invite me along on a weekend. I join them if they don’t mind me spending the day at the lodge, sipping cocoa and reading a book.
A few years back, I ran for public office in Marblehead. I always wanted to do it because community involvement is vital to me. I chose the School Committee because my father had been on the School Committee (not in the same town), and I had worked in classrooms and put my children through the system, so it felt like the best choice.
I lost, but only by a little, according to the non-math-challenged people who counted the votes. Still, it’s probably not something I will do again. I was happy to try; I learned a lot, and it was a valuable, worthwhile effort, but the voters have spoken. Also, having seen what goes into being an elected official, I feel like I’m not the best person for this work.
I often have trouble filtering myself during live events — there was a pool among my friends and family on how long it would take me to drop an F-bomb during a televised meeting. They were not wrong to be concerned because they had seen me turn off my audio and camera during a Zoom meeting so I could roll my eyes and blurt out phrases best not heard during civilized public discourse.
It is admirable to be able to stick to a goal, readjust your efforts, and keep pushing forward when it doesn’t go well. I don’t mean to minimize those who refuse to give up on something that matters to them. We should never give up on what we genuinely care about, but we absolutely should look at something we’ve pursued for a while and decide if it’s time to cut bait.
Getting Cs in math (most of them were a gift, even I could calculate my class averages) never held me back, and so far no ski areas have begged me to come back to the slopes. If someone can make a living telling people to throw out anything that doesn’t “spark joy,” then I can walk away from algebra and the bunny slope.
Brenda Kelley Kim has lived in Marblehead for 50 years, and is an author, freelance writer, and mother of three. Her column appears weekly.