My oldest daughter, Katie, came home from school in a mood one day. When I asked her what was wrong, she sighed and said, “Chelsea runs faster than me.” And she sighed again.
I thought for a moment and said, “Katie, not everyone can be good at everything. I’ll bet you there is something that you’re really good at.”
Without hesitating, she said, “I can draw.”
(Biased parent’s opinion: she is really, really good at art.)
I agreed and said, “Yes, you can. And you practice drawing a lot. Maybe you could ask Chelsea to show you how she runs really fast and you could practice running.”
She brightened, nodded, and said, “I will.” And then she said, with maybe a bigger smile than necessary, “And Chelsea draws like Amy (her then two-year-old sister).”
Ahh, the refreshing honesty of a five-year-old…
Katie was satisfied, I was relieved. As a parent, you’re constantly wading through the tough questions, trying to sort out how much information is too much, how to simplify what are really tricky issues so that they make sense but aren’t too patronizing, and how to empathize with your children when these seemingly trivial details rule their lives in that one instant. It’s weird that we don’t apply more of the things that we learn in these moments to the bigger picture.
Katie’s worry that she wasn’t the best at something is a concern in the real world. We all want to be the best, don’t we? But we can’t all be – it’s mathematically impossible for everyone to be on top.
So do you just give up?
Of course not. Life and business are all about priorities. You focus on what’s important to you and you work hard. And – this is the part that it took me a while as a cocky young lawyer to understand – you realize that you can always learn something from someone else, especially your competition.
When I first entered the legal profession, I was going to be the best tax attorney ever. I even had dreams of being on the Supreme Court – a statistically even more challenging feat when you realize that tax lawyers aren’t exactly the top picks on the Court. And then I realized how much I hated litigation. The whole process just annoyed the heck out of me. It wasn’t my thing.
What I did like to do was write and talk about tax law – and tax policy. Surely I could parlay that into something? So I did. I began writing more, ramping up taxgirl.com to become pretty successful, penning a monthly column for The Legal Intelligencer and (shh, it’s coming but still in beta) forging ahead on a new gig as the tax guru for an exciting new financial site run by the same folks responsible for The Wall Street Journal. All in all, these are pretty exciting times for me.
And as much as I hope that Katie learns from me, this is what I have learned from my daughter: when Katie believes that she is good at something, you know it. I love her ridiculous sense of confidence.
I wonder when we lose this as adults. And you know what I mean… When we stop singing out loud because we’re worried about what people might think when we stop dancing in public because we think we look silly when we apologize to others before we cook or draw or take a picture. What if… what if we are actually better at these things than we think?
So when people ask me anymore what I do, I don’t shuffle and look down at my feet. I say, “I’m a tax attorney and I write this really cool blog at taxgirl.com.” I am proud of what I do. The self-confidence of a five year is really quite inspiring that way.
And those little tweaks at the competition? I think they’re okay, too, so long as you exercise a little tact. Katie never told Chelsea that she thought she was the better artist – there wasn’t a reason to. But it made her feel better. And hey, for all I know, Chelsea really did draw like Amy…
People stop because they couldn’t weather the funny looks from others. I still sing in public, I do think I’m f’in-eh awesome at many things.
The only thing I’m self-conscious about (hey, nobody’s perfect LOL) is my book. I’m afraid I don’t deserve to be an author, no matter how many people read it and give positive feedback.
Why? Because I don’t fit the stereotype *I* have of what an author is. How lame is that? I don’t fit my imagination’s image … so I’m worried about it. Talk about not living up to your own standards *grin*
Whew. Who knew a comment section could be so therapeutic!
my children have taught me that nothing they can do or say will ever stop me loving them, although sometimes I would like to box their ears. Wait till she’s a teenager Kelly!
They have also taught me that a parents pride knows no bounds!
Your daughter is a cutie pie! 🙂
As the father, and grandfather, I marvel at them both. When life throws me a curve, and some days they are more than others, I recall an instance relayed to us about one of the eight grandchildren. Oh the innocence offered when they are young. As my 13 year old said when she was asked to do something, peered over the bannister, and called back to my youngest son, her father, and said questioningly, “And what do we say?” They watch and learn from us and others, and remind us we have faults and positives too.
I do love my kids, all three plus eight.
Dad
That post brought a smile to my face! I am a litigation lawyer in Vancouver but still, I can identify with both your daughter and yourself! I googled “tax lawyer” and stumbled onto your site. Keep writing!