Bad Advice

(This entry is inspired by a random blog entry topic generator. The subject is bad advice)

The world is full of bad advice. “The real estate bubble will never burst.” “You should totally buy Bear Stearns’ stock.” “Why don’t you take a shortcut through that cemetery.” Some people even get paid to give bad advice. See: advisors, financial.

Me? I’m sure that I’ve given plenty of bad advice in my life. Lord knows I love spouting my mouth off. And I tend to be full of crap. On a good day.

I had to wrack my brains to think of some bad advice that’s been given to me. It took me some time. Mostly because the truly outlandish suggestions tend to wind up in the circular file section of my mind. But then it came to me. 

The worst advice that I’ve ever been given was basically: give up.

I was in sixth grade. I was attempting to draw something to be used in a school project and, quite frankly, it stunk. I don’t remember exactly what it was that I was trying to draw, but I know that it was terrible. I was not what you would call a little artist. I was not, in fact, capable of creating anything that even remotely resembled a decent drawing, painting or stick figure.

My teacher handed my drawing back to me and said, “You know what, Hope? You have many talents, but drawing isn’t one of them. Why don’t you let it go and concentrate on what you’re good at.”

Lucky for me, I was a stubborn little fucker (still am) and I took my teacher’s words as a challenge. Who was she to tell me that I would never be able to draw anything? I was eleven. There are a few things that are pretty much impossible to accomplish if you’re not well on your way by the sixth grade. Olympic level gymnastics and professional piano playing come to mind. Doodling doesn’t make that list.

I could have been discouraged by that abrupt dismissal. And, in many way, I was. But I also realized that the only person who gets to tell me what I can and can’t do is me. And I am very often wrong about these sorts of things. 

So, I kept drawing. I’ll never be Picasso, Rembrandt or Thomas Kincade, but I can entertain myself with squiggles and caricatures. And I often draw up quilt patterns or sewing templates. I enjoy doodling and find it to be a viable means of personal expression. And I would have lost out on all of that if I had listened to my (well intentioned but very, very wrong) teacher.

There are times when it’s important to know your limitations. I would never attempt emergency surgery on someone. Or regular old non-emergency surgery for that matter. But there are times when you realize that you will never be the best… and it just plain ol’ doesn’t matter. I’ll never win a gold medal in ultimate frisbee. The lack of ultimate frisbee in the Olympics plays a minor role in this situation, as does my complete and utter lack of decent frisbee skills. That doesn’t mean that I’m going to stop playing frisbee anytime soon. There are many things that are worth doing. Even if you might never do them well.

I’d like to go back and tell my teacher that. And then maybe hit her over the head and tell her to try inspiring instead of spirit crushing. It’s a lot more rewarding and it might even be more fun.

What’s the worst advice that anyone has ever given you?