It is okay to fail, my child

I am currently reading The Book You Wish Your Parents Had Read: (And Your Children Will Be Glad That You Did) by Philippa Perry.

I spotted this book in a store in Belfast and was extremely intrigued by its, obviously well-written, title.

The chapter I am currently on talks about feelings. And how to acknowledge our children’s feelings.

It reminded me of the time when I was in the 5th grade and failed in mathematics exam. My mom and I were standing in my classroom and my Mom was shocked at my answer paper and marks on it. It said in red 14/50. I was three points lower than the required marks to clear the exam. My Mom was absolutely horrified. She looked at me and dragged me by the hand. Heard the class teacher complain about me and walked out of the room with me. We even met a friend’s parent on the way, who greeted my Mom. My Mom exchanged pleasantries but immediately as they left she looked at me in disappointment.

Now my school was only 7 minutes away from our home. As we walked, halfway through she felt absolutely terrible for her reaction. She took me to our local grocer and got me an orange candy. She told me don’t be afraid, and I am sorry for reacting the way I did.

I was shocked, and somewhat pleased, I felt like a weight was lifted over me. I was still confused how could I have failed my exam in the first place. But as we walked home that sunny afternoon, and with the orange candy dripping on my arm, I could feel my worries go away.

She called one of her sisters, and then handed over the phone to me. I don’t even remember what they said because it really didn’t matter.

We were waiting for my father to return from work that evening. Usually at the end of every results day, my parents would take me to a restaurant and we three would enjoy a meal together.

This time of course, I didn’t even dream it would happen. It was mathematics after all. The pride of every Tamilian. As a community we consider mathematics as our first language, and Tamil as our second. I even have an aunt who was a topper in the subject on state level. She was someone who’d do mathematics for ‘fun’.

My father came home in the evening. My Mom told him what happened and I looked at his face with worry. He was known to have a temper problem.

He was just freshening up when my mother told him the score. He went inside and opened his cupboard. He removed old files and came to the living room.

He sat next to me, and said, “Look at these. These are my old report cards. I was an absolute failure in mathematics.” I was surprised. Not because of what he confessed. This was something I knew all along. He never hid his failures from me.

But because of how he was empathising. He continued, “I was not able to cope as well. But my parents put me in a good tutorial. It was led by Praful Shah, and he taught me mathematics in a way I understood.” He pointed at one of the report cards where he scored above average in the subject. He said, “See here, my marks improved here because of his method of teaching.”

I must have said something silly in response. Because I could think of was but it is not 100/100.

That evening my parents still took me to a restaurant. I ate with an understanding that something like this has to be earned. I also realised my parents are far too generous in their approach towards my mistakes.

This incident I feel played a major role in my childhood.

Many years down the line, my father found an advertisement in the newspaper for a book titled “It is okay to fail, my child”. He rushed to purchase it and gift it to family member who was struggling with their child’s academic failure.

That book title was enough to help me understand the support he aimed to show to me.

As I read the chapter on feelings in the parenting book, I can only appreciate how blessed I have been to have extremely empathetic parents. For that I am forever grateful.