Achievement is Reason Number Eight
Early in our lives, some of us got the idea that becoming a worthwhile person is a product of developing our talents and working hard to reach goals that earn praise and positive attention. As a child, I relished the recognition I could win by performing well, whether in music or sports or academics.
Later, however, I grew wary of anyone whose motivation or appeal was based on “success,” not because I thought failure was preferable, but because I disagreed with the ways many people defined success. To me, success didn’t mean wearing designer fashions or driving a flashy car. It couldn’t be measured in dollars or popularity.
Somehow, I grasped that no matter how broadly you define it, success is not the ultimate key to a worthwhile life.
Therefore, early in my experience as an Air Force chaplain, I designed a seminar with the title, “You Don’t Have to Prove Yourself.” I meant to counter-balance the culture within the military, where everyone stands on a pyramid, climbing higher, assuming more responsibility, and gathering greater rewards according to their accomplishments. Granted, I lived within that culture and was “successful” in it, but I wanted to assure the handful of attendees that our worth as human beings isn’t measured by the standards the military and other institutions use.
When I launched this series of posts, I predicted it would give “nine reasons for reading my book, for caring about the issues found in these stories, and for joining me in this passion.” The following week, in the guise of a make-believe school teacher, I listed nine “virtues of the main characters.” These weren’t attributes I had in mind when writing the stories, but developing these posts has helped me get better acquainted with the people in my book than I was when I wrote about them.
The eighth topic in the imaginary teacher’s list is achievement.
As I reflect on the main characters in From the Lives We Knew, I don’t want to convey the impression that the most worthy among them are those who were efficient in reaching their goals. Instead, I would encourage you, as you come to know these characters, to consider how the drive for success (or the fear of failure) motivates them.
For instance, the young narrator describing members of his family in Kosovo says this about his grandfather:
One key to Grandfather’s success was his intense fear of failure. In the eyes of others, he was the master of all trades. They never saw his secret midnight study sessions. He stayed up late to re-read instructions he had long since memorized because he didn’t trust his memory. He fretted about inspections and accidents. He worried about unreliable underlings and envious deputies. Yet he hid his anxieties and kept up the appearance of self-assurance.
The need to avoid failure is the shadow cast by a success-driven life. Grandfather’s real success wasn’t mastering all trades or winning promotions; it was his resilience after losing his pension.