There’s a scene in my favorite movie, A River Runs Through It, where the father played, by Tom Skerrit, forces his son to write and rewrite an essay multiple times. Each time, returning it with lots of red ink and demanding, “Again. Half as long.” After who knows how many revisions, the boy hands the paper to his father and finally receives an affirmative, “Good, now throw it away.” which the boy dutifully does. The memoir of coming of age in the 1930’s reflects the cultivation of what is called “grit” today.
I was taken back to this movie scene yesterday because I took some pastels from my kids’ art supplies so I could try and replicate a sunrise photo. I’m not an artist and didn’t really know what I was doing, other than putting a little color here and there, then rubbing them together to create a gradual fading of the shades. When I was done, I felt confident that if I were to spend a little more time, I could make a decent picture on my next try, so I threw away the drawing, satisfied at what I’d learned.
In the course of the evening, both of my kids separately found the draft picture in the trash and brought it to me, full of compliments and wonder for why I had thrown it out. After explaining that I was just teaching myself how to color, I found the picture twice removed from the garbage and placed back on the counter, as they were intent it should be honored and kept somehow.
Irritated at their insistence, I ended up explaining to both of them the real value was my experience of learning through creating, not the picture that resulted. Cultivating grit in ourselves and our kids requires us to not hold so tight to the end product, but delight in how it came to be, over many attempts. That is where learning occurs.