I’m a ’68 model, which makes me part of Gen X. I grew up in the whole “latchkey” and “MTV” era. Back in first grade, I’d stroll home from school all by myself, key in hand, and just let myself in with nobody around. Yup, that really happened! I think that’s why I’m totally cool with being alone—like, I don’t fear it at all. In fact, my alone time is pure gold!

I can’t recall MTV’s exact channel number on our cable network, but I can remember where I moved the lever and which button to click to get to that channel. Google what the eighties cable boxes looked like—big, bulky, brown, but a godsend from the cable heavens. I will upload a picture down below for reference. I felt so fancy, like “do you want an autograph?” fancy. Our cable box was attached to the 200-pound-plus console television that sat in the den downstairs at my mother’s house, with a cord.

Oh yeah, it came with this super long cord, like twenty-five feet at least! Just so you know, I didn’t mind the cable box and its cord because before that, I was basically the remote. I had to actually get up and change the dial on the TV whenever someone asked. Fun fact: at my dad’s place, we didn’t even have cable, so I was still stuck changing the channels there and sometimes fiddling with the antenna too. I won’t get into that, but you either get the antenna thing or you don’t. So, having a box with a cord that let me chill and switch channels without jumping up every time was the “cat’s meow”!

A bunch of my Gen X friends would probably nod along with this: I tackled a ton of stuff solo coming up, and trust me, I faced a lot of flops along the way, which taught me that failure is just part of the ride. Back then, our parents were all about letting us give it a shot, thinking we’d figure things out eventually. I’m speaking for my folks here.

Let’s talk about failure and why I taught my children growing up that, yes, failure is an option and a big part of life’s journey. If you have never failed, this is not the stoop talk for you.  If you have failed and failed big, I am certain we have some things in common. 

Let’s hang out on the stoop! Grab a cool drink and see if any of this hits home; I think we might have some things in common. Here’s my take on failure being an option and some stories about mine along the way.

Failure is the lack of success, or the inability to reach a requirement or certain expectations.

Swimming lessons weren’t really a thing for me when I was a kid. I never headed down to the local YMCA rocking a swim cap and clutching onto a floaty to keep me from sinking. I missed out on all the formal swim classes and the whole Mommy-and-me or Daddy-and-me classes starting at a few months old.

My Dad, who I call Pop, is the one who taught me how to swim, and here’s how that went down. Just a heads up: I’m the baby of four older brothers and three older sisters. I don’t have one sibling who shares both parents with me; I’m not just a Gen Xer; I’m the final product of his, hers, and ours. Yep, I’m “the ours” kid! So chill with the jealousy; I can see that green-eyed monster creeping in. Is anyone else out there feeling me? I can’t be the only one in this dynamic of the sibling squad!

My Pop liked to go swimming, and he taught several people how to swim, and being that I am his daughter, he taught me. He thought everyone should know how to at least dog paddle and float for safety reasons. Get a mental image of a lake, if you will. Pop would take me out in the water, where I would tiptoe to keep myself from going under, with a bouncing motion. I mean, the water was at my nose area; if you know, then you know the situation! He did not just completely throw me in; I know friends who learned that way as well, but not I. The fear was real that my life was ending at the ripe old age of five; so grateful he taught me young.

Eventually, I learned how to hold my breath and dive underwater. I’m not one to pinch my nose before going under, so I ended up gulping down some nasty lake water, but hey, at least I can laugh about it now—seriously, microorganisms, what gives? 😂 I kept diving in, and after a bunch of tries, I finally figured out how not to drink that gross lake water. Then I moved on to floating, dog paddling, and swimming, both on the surface and underwater. Pop wasn’t about to let me drown, even if it felt like I might sometimes. I’d grab onto his arm, hand, shoulder, ear—whatever I could during my epic fails, but he was always right there with me. He showed me that messing up was just part of the journey until I got it right. I had to freak out and think I was drowning—well, I thought I was, anyway—before it all clicked. Sound familiar? It’s pretty much how life goes. You hold your breath, swallow some water, struggle a bit, but as soon as you start swimming, you actually start making progress.

Failure has been, and always will be, my trusty sidekick on this wild journey. I failed at swimming all the way to junior life guard status. Imagine that, from epic belly flops to mastering the title of junior lifeguard, talk about an upgrade! And diving? Let’s just say I’m will never build a case for a diving gold medal. However, I can make a splash with my cannonballs and cliff jumps—it’s pure comedy gold!

It was way back in my early teenage years, the eighties, and can you believe it? A fourteen-year-old could actually be a junior lifeguard, trusted with the lives of poolgoers—like, what were they thinking? They had so much faith in me, chilling in my blue speedo on that lower-level lifeguard chair, just waiting for someone to nearly drown or run. There was no running allowed at the pool. And oh man, the love I had for that whistle they gave me; it worked every time. If you know me, handing me a whistle or a microphone isn’t the best idea. Although being a junior lifeguard is one gig that I knew failure should not happen. Therefore, we trained constantly.

I only had to save one kid during my one summer of lifeguard duty, just one little dude. He was this young boy, jumping off the diving board way too close to the edge, so when he splashed down, he could surface and grab the side of the pool. Honestly, it was kind of brave of him, thinking back on it. Jumping into the deep end, knowing he couldn’t exactly swim. I told him not to do it, but of course, he went for it anyway. He was about nine, and since I was already fourteen and all “grown up,” I thought he’d listen to me—I mean, I had a whistle! But nope, I had to jump in after him—even though he was heavier than me, I still got him out safely. I warned him not to try it again because we didn’t want him to drown or hurt himself. Plus, he totally wrecked my perfect Coppertone tan session! I smelled like coconut that entire summer, and I still picture that little girl on the bottle with her dog tugging at her swimsuit bottom. If you know, you know. I learned my lesson, though, and now I’m all about that daily sunscreen life!

There are a lot of things I failed at, but after never quitting, I succeeded at a few. Riding a bike, roller skating, and shaving my legs (there was actual bodily harm that occurred while learning to shave… failures, like full-on complete skin removal on the shin areas, for one). Ouch, I still cut myself with a razor every now and again to this day. Although, I am not going to go around with hairy legs or armpits; therefore, I keep shaving cautiously.

So, you fail, now what? It is not that you are never going to fail in life; you are, and you will. It is what you do with failure that matters. I say fail big and then fail bigger. This is why failure is an option, and as a seasoned gal, I have failed numerous times, and you probably have too. I have learned more from failures than I could have imagined. Yes, they made me angry and frustrated, but failures can lead to confidence, strength, knowledge, grit, and success in life.

Growing up in a generation that kind of raised ourselves, failure was just part of our everyday lives. Like that one time my sister tried making biscuits in the microwave. Total disaster; they turned out like hockey pucks, and yeah, we totally chucked them at each other. We razzed her for years about this; we called her Ellie Mae. We weren’t really coddled; our parents were always busy working. My parents were divorced, and honestly, I don’t even remember daycares being a thing, and after-school programs? Not in my neck of the woods back then.

Failure is just part of the ride we call life, and honestly, it’s going to happen. Remember when you first tried using mascara? Who am I? Sometimes, I still end up smudging it on my eyelid like a total newbie. And let’s be real, most of us don’t kick things off by snagging an Oscar for our very first movie role. Athletes don’t just waltz into the Olympics without any training, thinking they’ll grab a gold medal right off the bat. The folks who really nail their skills, no matter what they are, have tripped up and failed along the way. The key is that they kept getting back up each time they fell. So, when you catch yourself saying you want what they’ve got, just remember to put in the effort, hit some bumps, and keep pushing forward. Remind yourself, you are not doing it wrong; you are probably at the point where a lot of people decide to throw in the towel or dig in. Let me encourage you to keep digging.

I want to say thanks for stopping by the stoop, where failure is an option, but do not let quitting be one. Nothing works but work. Hard work does and will pay off. If you are not failing, then are you even doing anything?

Kindness starts with me.

t.l.ramsey