INTRODUCING IA TED TALKS
One of the Innovation academy requirements is making a ted-talk-style presentation at the end of the semester. Students have the chance to synthesize their learnings and choose a story to present to others. The topic of the 2015 presentations was the idea of the things we carry with us. After reading Tim O'Brien's novel, we applied our learnings into a meaningful display of our experiences.
SCRIPT
We begin life with a clean slate, but as we grow up we face decisions, make choices. We might not notice it, but inevitably we end up picking up certain things that will shape who we are and how we see the world. These things are our baggage, and we take them with us wherever we go. It may be heavy, and a pain to carry around, but letting go is simply not an option.
My case here is a strange one though, I was born with baggage, an expectation. I was born with the burden of perfection, and here is why. Most of you know my older brother alex, tall, dark hair. He was my parents’ first born child and a true pain in the ass for that matter. He would cry day and night, there was no stopping him, he was a rebel, a troublemaker. My mom and dad tried everything, but simply having to care for him was exhausting, so when I came along, they hoped that I would be the perfect child, that I would always behave.
Now, I don’t blame my parents, If I had been a troublesome baby I'm confident they would have still loved and cherished me, but it almost seems as if I wanted to be this perfect child, like I accepted the challenge, I picked up the baggage and have been carrying it ever since. This is the baggage of perfection. And while wasn’t much of a problem when I was a toddler,as I began to grow, I started to feel the weight of that I was carrying.
I remember I used to draw, a lot. I would spend hours with a pen and paper just doodling art pieces, it was my hobby, my passion. I really enjoyed this activity, until one day I was asked to see some of my works of art, and I realized that I had nothing to display. I would draw and draw and draw, but as soon as I saw an error, a mistake, I would crumple up my sheet of paper and toss it in the trash. I was afraid of failing, afraid that my work would not be perfect, so I simply decided to start over until I achieved it.
But that was the problem, perfection isn’t realistic, its an imaginary ideal, an unachievable standard. Perfection is the enemy of progress. So sooner rather than later, I stopped searching for this ideal all together, and I stopped drawing in the process. There were just too many mistakes, just too many failures to keep moving forward. Mistakes aren’t perfection, so to avoid this reality, better stop trying altogether, because you never know if you never try, and some things are better left in the imaginary.
Yet, it didn’t stop there. This fear of not being perfect, this backpack of failure fearing insecurities kept on restricting me from moving forward, and it wasn’t until a few months ago that I realized I had to let my baggage go.
I have always been fond of the sciences; I remember being in elementary and counting the days to get to middle school just because we would be able to conduct remarkable experiments. In the seventh grade, I got third place in the science fair and in ninth grade I attended to my first operation room experience. These events all sparked a curiosity in me that propelled me into finding interest in the department of sciences, bringing me to the end goal of becoming a surgeon.
While the idea seemed achievable as time went by, my brain did what it knew best to do: Over Think. I took this idea of becoming a surgeon and found every flaw of the plan. What if I failed? What if I wasn't accepted to med school? These were all real concerns that were important to keep in mind, but all they did was suppress my dream until it vanished, until my fear of failing convinced me that achieving perfection would be impossible, that I would not succeed.
What happened was that every time I let this negativity take control over my life, I resorted to a backup plan. Call it business, marketing, psychology or design, I found level 'b' plans that would ensure safety college-wise. As soon as I found medical school too much of a challenge I would shift to these careers that nested my deep insecurities. But don’t get me wrong; I find all of these vocations of high rigor, yet I was being driven by fear rather than passion.
In a way, I was being a 'scaredy-cat', and it took me a while to figure it out. It wasn't until dinner a couple of months ago, when I was talking to my parents that the words blurted out of my mouth. "Mom, Dad, I think I want to study medicine again." I was waiting for surprise in my parent's response or sort of reaction in the least; instead my mom just said: "I knew it."
My mom and dad are the type of parents that would support any decision I make regarding my future. As long as I'm happy, they're happy, which is why they have supported my unending career search. But it turns out that they always thought I would end up studying medicine. My mom explained that whenever she heard me talking about the subject she could feel the excitement in my voice, and in a way, it was true.
We spent hours on the dining table discussing university plans and basically my future. I voiced my troubles, and my parents addressed them; but as the conversation started to perish my mom said a combination of words that I doubt I'll ever forget. Forgive me for my faulty paraphrasing, but here goes the staggering lesson: "The worst mistakes are the ones you never make. Don't reject a career for fear of failure, because if you do, you will always wonder 'what if.'"
As I began to process the words my mother was saying, I came to an understanding. I saw that insecurities will do nothing but restrain you, and I began to accept failure as it was: an impending challenge I would have to face every so often. I will always make mistakes, and while by making them i may be eliminating the option of achieving perfection, I saw that perfection was not reality. Perfect is the enemy of progress.
There will always be baggage, it is simply a matter of whether we pick it up or leave it be. People will always have expectations, we will always have insecurities but only by accepting their existence and learning how to react to them will we be set free
We all carry our own baggage with us, mine is called perfectionism. But yours may have different names. Fitting in? Standing out? We all carry them. At times the weight may not be evident, but it is there, and there will be a point in your lives when that weight will restrain you from advancing. It took me about 16 years and a few months to see it, but you won’t be free of the weight until you acknowledge it, accept it and learn to let it go. insecurities are the enemy progress, let go of your baggage in order to keep moving forward. Thank you
My case here is a strange one though, I was born with baggage, an expectation. I was born with the burden of perfection, and here is why. Most of you know my older brother alex, tall, dark hair. He was my parents’ first born child and a true pain in the ass for that matter. He would cry day and night, there was no stopping him, he was a rebel, a troublemaker. My mom and dad tried everything, but simply having to care for him was exhausting, so when I came along, they hoped that I would be the perfect child, that I would always behave.
Now, I don’t blame my parents, If I had been a troublesome baby I'm confident they would have still loved and cherished me, but it almost seems as if I wanted to be this perfect child, like I accepted the challenge, I picked up the baggage and have been carrying it ever since. This is the baggage of perfection. And while wasn’t much of a problem when I was a toddler,as I began to grow, I started to feel the weight of that I was carrying.
I remember I used to draw, a lot. I would spend hours with a pen and paper just doodling art pieces, it was my hobby, my passion. I really enjoyed this activity, until one day I was asked to see some of my works of art, and I realized that I had nothing to display. I would draw and draw and draw, but as soon as I saw an error, a mistake, I would crumple up my sheet of paper and toss it in the trash. I was afraid of failing, afraid that my work would not be perfect, so I simply decided to start over until I achieved it.
But that was the problem, perfection isn’t realistic, its an imaginary ideal, an unachievable standard. Perfection is the enemy of progress. So sooner rather than later, I stopped searching for this ideal all together, and I stopped drawing in the process. There were just too many mistakes, just too many failures to keep moving forward. Mistakes aren’t perfection, so to avoid this reality, better stop trying altogether, because you never know if you never try, and some things are better left in the imaginary.
Yet, it didn’t stop there. This fear of not being perfect, this backpack of failure fearing insecurities kept on restricting me from moving forward, and it wasn’t until a few months ago that I realized I had to let my baggage go.
I have always been fond of the sciences; I remember being in elementary and counting the days to get to middle school just because we would be able to conduct remarkable experiments. In the seventh grade, I got third place in the science fair and in ninth grade I attended to my first operation room experience. These events all sparked a curiosity in me that propelled me into finding interest in the department of sciences, bringing me to the end goal of becoming a surgeon.
While the idea seemed achievable as time went by, my brain did what it knew best to do: Over Think. I took this idea of becoming a surgeon and found every flaw of the plan. What if I failed? What if I wasn't accepted to med school? These were all real concerns that were important to keep in mind, but all they did was suppress my dream until it vanished, until my fear of failing convinced me that achieving perfection would be impossible, that I would not succeed.
What happened was that every time I let this negativity take control over my life, I resorted to a backup plan. Call it business, marketing, psychology or design, I found level 'b' plans that would ensure safety college-wise. As soon as I found medical school too much of a challenge I would shift to these careers that nested my deep insecurities. But don’t get me wrong; I find all of these vocations of high rigor, yet I was being driven by fear rather than passion.
In a way, I was being a 'scaredy-cat', and it took me a while to figure it out. It wasn't until dinner a couple of months ago, when I was talking to my parents that the words blurted out of my mouth. "Mom, Dad, I think I want to study medicine again." I was waiting for surprise in my parent's response or sort of reaction in the least; instead my mom just said: "I knew it."
My mom and dad are the type of parents that would support any decision I make regarding my future. As long as I'm happy, they're happy, which is why they have supported my unending career search. But it turns out that they always thought I would end up studying medicine. My mom explained that whenever she heard me talking about the subject she could feel the excitement in my voice, and in a way, it was true.
We spent hours on the dining table discussing university plans and basically my future. I voiced my troubles, and my parents addressed them; but as the conversation started to perish my mom said a combination of words that I doubt I'll ever forget. Forgive me for my faulty paraphrasing, but here goes the staggering lesson: "The worst mistakes are the ones you never make. Don't reject a career for fear of failure, because if you do, you will always wonder 'what if.'"
As I began to process the words my mother was saying, I came to an understanding. I saw that insecurities will do nothing but restrain you, and I began to accept failure as it was: an impending challenge I would have to face every so often. I will always make mistakes, and while by making them i may be eliminating the option of achieving perfection, I saw that perfection was not reality. Perfect is the enemy of progress.
There will always be baggage, it is simply a matter of whether we pick it up or leave it be. People will always have expectations, we will always have insecurities but only by accepting their existence and learning how to react to them will we be set free
We all carry our own baggage with us, mine is called perfectionism. But yours may have different names. Fitting in? Standing out? We all carry them. At times the weight may not be evident, but it is there, and there will be a point in your lives when that weight will restrain you from advancing. It took me about 16 years and a few months to see it, but you won’t be free of the weight until you acknowledge it, accept it and learn to let it go. insecurities are the enemy progress, let go of your baggage in order to keep moving forward. Thank you