I started welding classes this week. Yesterday, for the first time in my life, I turned up the pressure on oxygen and acetylene tanks, cracked the acetylene on the torch, and lit it with a striker. For me, sticking my hand that close to an instrument that was about to shoot a 6000 degree Fahrenheit flame and squeezing the striker took courage. So did controlling that powerful of a fire while standing so close sparks flew at me, all lit electric green by the shade 5 glasses we’re required to wear in class.  But by the end of the day, I felt surprisingly comfortable with it. I could start the fire without fear of burning myself and stand as sparks shot around me and know I wasn’t going to catch fire. I conquered my fear pretty quickly, just by making myself do it a few times. What I hadn’t conquered by the end of the day was my frustration.
Several people in the class are not new to welding. It was both inspiring and disheartening to watch them wield their torches to curl strips of steel, set straight welding beads, and generally make cool thing-a-ma-jigs while my arms ached under the weight of holding a torch, I couldn’t set a weld without burning holes in the steel…and then I accidentally cut my project in half while trying to reinforce a joint. (Which, yes, would be approximately the exact opposite of what I was trying to do.) By lunchtime it crossed my mind that maybe welding wasn’t my thing.
Like it so often does, a full belly significantly calmed me down, and I went back to class determined to keep trying. I had to buck up and remind myself that not being able to weld a perfect (or even moderately functional) welding bead on day 1 was not a sign that I couldn’t do this. It was a sign that I’d never done it before. The difference between can’t do and can do is rarely about ability. It’s almost always about perseverance.
Too often we teach children to find what they’re good at and do that, when the truth is we’re born utterly talentless. Sure there might be some genetic whatever that, given equal effort, might make you slightly more successful at x than at y. But those who persevere surpass those with “talent†who don’t apply it. How many times have you seen people give up because something is “too hardâ€? Sometimes it’s a lazy factor that makes them quit, but I think often it’s people have decided way too soon that they must not be good at it–because if they had a talent for it, it wouldn’t be so hard. I see this with writing all the time. Budding novelists give up because they’re embarrassed with their output and assume they can’t do better. Hey, we’re all embarrassed by our first few forays into fiction. The published ones just kept doing it anyway.
That is why, instead of teaching people to find what they’re good at, we should teach people to find what they love enough to keep working at, even if their self-perception is that they’re bad at it. Find something that is personally worth persevering for, and that continued effort over the long haul is what will transform you (or me!) from someone who cuts her project in half to someone who’s proud of her accomplishments.
My perseverance goal for the month is to not let my inner-diva win. I’m going to learn how to weld. Dammit. What about you? Anything you need moral support persevering through?
~ Featured Image:Â Two young women oxy welding parts of ammunition boxes in South Australia in 1943. Photographer: Smith, D. Darian
3 comments
Kristina says:
Jun 4, 2014
ARGH! This issue is so hard for me. How long is not long enough, how long is too long? I’m not a very adept sewer(meaning a person who sews XD). I can mend just fine, but bigger tasks I always manage to tangle the thread. I’ve tried embroidery, seed bead jewelry projects, and cross stitch. Same problem each time. It irritates me to know end. Just let me love you, thread!
Jax says:
Jun 5, 2014
Haha! I totally get that. I tried sewing back when I was a theater teacher and quickly discovered that while I don’t mind putting something together that will look reasonable from 40ft away, the patience to sew something that would look good to someone standing a couple feet away…does not belong to me. I love looking at handmade clothing, and I have a friend who’s pretty dern good at it. But not me!
I think there are a lot of craft things now, like scrapbooking, that you can get reasonably good at quickly. I’m not saying you can be a badass right off the bat, but with stickers and patterned paper, anyone can put together a decent scrapbook page without much investment of time or tools. Modern cooking is like that, too. There’s enough semi-homemade product on the market that putting together a tasty meal doesn’t require much skill.
But sewing isn’t like that. It’s one of those Big Skills–like metal work or carpentry–that used to be a life-craft. People would start apprenticing as children so that they could be journeymen as teens then masters as adults. I think with so many skills out there that we can do with relatively little training–often due to ready-made material, like beading a necklace–we forget that other things–like blowing the glass to make the beads–are not skills we can just pick up in a few attempts. There’s a reason there used to be an apprentice system!
Basically, I guess what I’m saying is, I don’t think it’s you. I think sewing is that hard. Which makes the question, does it sound appealing to you to apprentice with it before you make anything you’re really happy with? I dabbled in writing my whole life, then in my late 20s got serious about it with craft classes and daily application of effort using those lessons. It wasn’t until I was in my early thirties that I wrote something I was really proud of. That’s a couple decades of playing around (which I considered practice, but looking back now I see that it wasn’t focused enough to be real practice) followed by about five years of serious craft work. Not everybody takes as long as I did, but I’m glad I put the effort in. Honestly, when I quit pressuring myself to “be a writer” and produce finished material and instead allowed myself to be a student and focus on skill-building, it became a lot less frustrating.
Wow, I just said a lot (I think you have inspired a future post 😉 ). Hope that didn’t come across as sanctimonious or anything. I didn’t mean to be! I also wanted to tell you congrats on the candle-making! I keep thinking I want to try that, but I haven’t gotten around to it yet. Mostly because of my immense candle collection that I’m still working my way through! But one day… 🙂
Kristina says:
Jun 6, 2014
Not sanctimonious at all! You made an excellent point, that sewing is a trade skill. As well as the difference between doing something as a hobby, as a somewhat-serious pursuit, and as a career. I just don’t think sewing is for me. My sister is good at it, my mom is decent… I’m good with being a good cook.
I think the difference is that it isn’t something I enjoy doing. Would it be nice, SURE, but it isn’t a necessity. I have no plans of making anything like a quilt or a costume. I would rather learn how to make jewelry settings and bezels or get better at writing or learn a new recipe.
You make another really good point about allowing yourself to be a student. I notice it with myself and making candles (thanks for the compliment by the way). I realize that I won’t be amazing since I’m a beginner. But with other things I go into full perfectionist mode (like with writing as well) and freak myself out.
Also, side note, SAVE THE WAX. If you want to get into candle making, leftover wax and containers are a huge resource. Just make sure you separate scents.