Jul31
Modeling imperfectionism
My mother-in-law is the soul of generosity. She gave me a sewing machine for Christmas. She also makes available her own massive expertise. The other day, she came over to help me blunder my inept way through a pattern, making jumpers for my daughters.
I want to learn to sew. Really I do. But I am sewing-challenged. Nothing about the pattern is intuitive (to me). Nothing about the machine is intuitive (to me). Nothing about the fabric will cooperate (with me). So, hours of labor and the patient attendance of my mother-in-law enabled me to produce merely this, one bodice and two pockets:
(Blurry, I know. I don’t want anyone to be able to scrutinize it too closely.)
What was interesting to me was that both daughters hovered nearby throughout the entire valiant effort. My eldest had it in her mind that she was going to make a stuffed animal, and she sat there at the kitchen table for three hours doing just that — conceiving a plan and carrying it out.
(She got fancy with the bottom one. Its legs move.)
My youngest circled for awhile, then settled down to serious pestering. Before war broke out, I remembered dimly a puppet kit somewhere, and dug it out. She sat down happily to sew, too:
Clearly, both daughters are more naturally gifted at sewing than their mother. But what interested me is that it interested them. They’ve never displayed an ounce of curiosity. A few times, their grandma has enlisted them in sewing projects when they’ve gone to visit her, and they enjoy it well enough. But they’ve never been the ones to take the initiative.
Reflecting on the day, I realized they’ve rarely seen me “learning” before. Not like this. Oh, they see me sitting in church listening, “learning” that way. They see me practice a new piece once in a great while at the piano. They see me reading things for information. But listening and playing the piano and reading are things I already know how to do. I know how to do a whole host of things they are learning: ride a bike, swim, spell, recite my times tables. I know how to hang my clothes on the hook instead of leaving them on the floor. I know how to read a recipe and draw trees. I can read a calendar and tell time, and I almost always know what day of the week it is (as long as we don’t count that little episode last Easter where I celebrated Palm Sunday a week early).
Of course, I feel my insufficiency quite keenly in all kinds of ways. In all kinds of ways, I’m always learning (or needing to desperately). But the process isn’t often that visible to them. I fear I may do a better job of modeling perfectionism than a right attitude toward failure.
Sewing is a different story. Sewing happens visibly, at the kitchen table. Sewing involves humility. Fumbling. Having to rethread the needle over and over. Having Grandma point out that I’ve veered liberally away from the sternly fixed 5/8″ mark. Sewing shows me learning something that does not come naturally… and being able to have a pretty good time anyway.
They’ve heard my little lectures on the importance of practice. They’ve heard me tell them that even such miseries as spelling lessons and math drills are valuable because they are helping them to learn things they need to know. But how often have they witnessed me in quite such an — abject — state? There was something magnetic about it for them. “Mommy is learning,” my eldest pointed out with a pleased smile as I squinted at the broken thread for the hundredth time.
“Mommy is sewing, and you’re sewing, and I’m sewing!” exclaimed my youngest.
“We all start somewhere,” my mother-in-law summed up.
They need to see me learning outside my comfort zone more often. It gives me more credibility as their teacher. Maybe, just maybe, modeling the failure that’s inevitable on the road to success will help slay the dragon of perfectionism that rears its ugly head and makes them (and sometimes me) afraid to try.
11 Comments »Parenting/Education
I don’t think I’ve thought about this before, but these are good lessons.
If it’s any comfort, I had two years of college sewing lessons and still feel challenged. My problem was my mom was a “just do it” rather than read the instructions kind of person, and with what little sewing she did, if something didn’t make sense to her, she didn’t do it or figured out her own way. I love her to death, but she wasn’t very domestic.
And that doing it one’s own way didn’t bode too well in college classes. I think having a personal experienced teacher is probably a better learning experience for sewing.
But the people who write the instructions for the patterns — good grief. They can make the simplest things make little sense.
Oh, how I relate! I am a TERRIBLE seamstress, and not for lack of trying. I “learned” how to sew in roughly the fifth grade, and although I can do some hand work, the workings of a machine still elude me. I’m machine quilting now with a LOT of help from a church friend. My mother helps me make curtains (read: she practically makes them for me). I feel your pain, but I appreciate the perspective, too. Happy sewing!
I’m glad I’m not the only one!
I took a sewing unit in the first semester of 8th grade home ec, and liked it. The second semester was supposed to be all sewing, but there was a fashion show at the end. The idea of a fashion show spooked me so much I dropped the course and took metal shop instead.
My friend Jennifer and I were the only girls in the class. It was a hoot!
Look at you sewing!!! You can do it. Yeah, Janet! I really appreciate your thoughts on modeling learning, my children have seen me repeatedly learn new skills(I make them ooh, and aah and clap ) but they have never shown much interest in learning what I’m learning….hmmm, I know it’s not perfectionism here, I must just be boring!
So, can we expect to see your girls in matching jumpers this Sunday?
Hah! Don’t count on it!
My mom is pretty good at sewing- she made an easter dress for my daughter that’s so cute- and I have an aunt who makes clothes that look like they came from a store- but I can’t sew anything except a button back on. Sometimes I wish I had a sewing machine to learn on, but then it scares me!
This is a great post. I think we are always better teachers when we are in the midst of learning something new ourselves. It’s easy to forget how it feels to struggle with something new when we are teaching things we have known for years!
Wonderful insight. Fantastic perspective. Great post!
I really like your puzzle banner, too. One day, I’m going to learn enough HTML to make my blog visually attractive like yours.
Jeane, having a sewing machine removes all excuses!
Thanks, Ruth and Lisa.
Lisa, I like your blog’s look! This theme has rotating headers; you can upload a number of different photos for the banner. I really like that feature. It lets me be indecisive.
Hi Janet, I’m back to blogging after a two month hiatus and as usual so enjoyed your posts. I always bookmark the books you read for future reading. This post made me cry for some reason, (yes it’s that time of the month) but good redeeming tears. A little glimpse into God’s will being done on earth perhaps. Thanks.
Welcome back, Neverending. Thank you for the comment.