Finishing is its Own Reward

A Note for Those Finishing Long Races

By Amy Barr, Latinist and Gardener

Sprinters know whether they'll be in range to win within the first couple of seconds of a race. Weightlifters know instantly if they'll tackle the challenge set before them. Why do marathon runners force themselves to crawl across finish lines and why do mountain climbers drag themselves wounded and weary to the summit even though they knew well in advance that they weren't going to take first place? The prize of endurance is completion. Completion is often quite enough of a prize.

Perfectionists will often chime, “whatever is worth doing at all, is worth doing well.” This, too, is also true but with a few caveats. Some use this adage as an excuse to quit whenever one feels a job has been too poorly done. For most of us, the least qualified judge of our own worthiness is ourselves.

I’ve seen perfectionism rob many people of their prize of getting things done. In my own profession I see otherwise competent students take a low score one rough week and then I see them give up. The curse of perfectionism typically effects 5-10% of my students and the results are always difficult to watch. I have seen a student give up because she scored a single 89% during a semester of earning upper 90% or above. One Latin student abandoned the class after a mediocre midterm only to discover a month later that he had earned a perfect score on the National Latin Exam. In graduate school I meet a man who had been “working” on his doctoral dissertation for over a decade but could never get it perfect enough to finish.

Few things in life are sprints. Most of what we humans accomplish work out more like a marathon or a rugged mountain climb. We are far more likely to crawl across the finish line or trudge to the summit with a bruise or two than we are to flawlessly sprint to the win. Also just like an endurance race, few adoring fans wait at the end to cheer us on as we finish the long haul.  

Doing things well is a worthy goal but a poor excuse. Life is far too short to give up whenever one’s hope of perfection fades. When you trip over your own feet, expect to hit the pavement. This is normal. The next part of the endurance race makes you exceptional in a crowd of people who give up too soon. The reward comes to those who stand up, dust off, tie shoelaces, and keep going (consider that skinned knee and embarrassed ego as a badge of courage). Finishing is its own reward. There is greatness in simply getting things done.

Rookie Writers: Learn to be Limber

There's No Such Thing as One Size Fits All in Writing

By Amy Barr, crusty old author and Latin teacher

    Recently one of our Lukeion instructors shared a note with me from a parent lamenting how her daughter’s once flowery prose had become, at least to her way of thinking, too clinical in academic assignments. What had happened to her daughters formerly ornate and creative approach to writing? 

    My daughter earned her college degree in design. When she started, she was already well versed in ways to express her own creative style. Every class she took and every project she completed forced her to work in unique ways. What she learned in an oil painting class was not at applicable in a class about logo and package design. Her experience in illustration did not apply directly to her design of a large-scale campus art installation. While she never had a single class on developing her own creative style, her ability to create unique pieces not only persisted through her college program, but it grew by leaps and bounds as she learned new ways of expression.

    The connection between design and writing is simple: learning new forms will not erase old skills but build them impressively. Expanding one’s writing mastery requires us to leave our comfort zone and accomplish new modes and methods. 

    Students who enjoy writing typically come to us with experience in writing ornate or even flowery creative fictional prose. As a writer matures, he or she must leave behind comfortable personal styles. A precise literary analysis will differ from a screen play which will differ from a lab report or a speech about economic models or sustainable agriculture. Yet each assignment, method, and mode will expand one's skill.

If a writer can’t adopt new methods and adapt new skills to different types of writing, one’s skills will eventually stagnate. Even wonderfully creative writers must branch out, broaden understandings, and continue to grow. What are some steps to help in this process?

Appreciate new rules for each different type of writing project.

    Creative writing and academic writing share a few elements, but objectives are as different as mud and muffins. There are new rules and different expectations for academic writing. What worked well in emotive fiction must be set aside when composing a good lab report or analyzing a Latin epic. Many of our best and brightest writers feel the sting of disappointment when they get their first writing score back. “What happened? This is usually my strong suit!” 

Where readers once demanded strong visuals and gushing narratives that tug at the heart, they now demand precision, objective analysis, simplicity, and clarity. Set aside those rococo turns of mood and tense for now. Concision and accuracy must rule. Learn to be limber! There will be times for every kind of writing. Adding new skills will always serve you well.

Celebrate the differences and enjoy the challenge.

Embrace every writing mission and play by the rules given. Students who struggle the most want to change every book report, essay, and research paper back into the writing style that makes them most comfortable. This is like trying to apply the rules of tennis to swimming. Don't critique your research paper using the rules of creative writing. If you are given any writing challenge, follow those rules and do your best to learn new methods and modes.

Embrace feedback as your best path to improvement. 

    Instructors spend long hours giving feedback over writing assignments, and guess what? That feedback is always in the form of recommendations for improvement. Young writers don’t know what they don’t know. Learning how to compose a good thesis, or the rules of citation, or the specifics of quoting sources come only with effort. Instructors spend a lot of time trying to help you iron out mundane wrinkles.  

    Getting feedback is difficult, especially if we feel like we are good writers. If we’ve spent effort doing our best, anything less than a glowing report feels harsh and personal. Anger and disappointment are common responses to what was intended as edification and education. Instructors have exactly one reason to spend hours pouring over your writings: they want you to get better at writing! Never resent those who give feedback.

    All the best authors in the world have had readers and fellow writers edit and give copious feedback before works go to press. This most painful process makes all the difference. It is the finishing polish, the perfect cut, the final touch. Embrace feedback as your best path to improvement. Singers can hear themselves sing. Painters can see how people react to their art. Writers must rely on truthful editors.