Sometimes the Win Looks Different

Every week, I show up at school hoping to give my kiddos an opportunity to learn something new.

But maybe even more importantly, I want them to discover something new about themselves.

That’s really what I want Room 108 to be.

Create. Discover. Build. Connect.

The longer I’m in this classroom, the more I realize how important that last word is.

Connect.

We’ve created a lot already. We’ve built things. We’ve painted. We’ve worked with clay. We’ve solved problems. We’ve completed challenges.

And every week, I remind them of something I want them to carry with them long after they leave Room 108:

We can do hard things.

Some things are going to be easier for you than they are for the person beside you. And sometimes the exact opposite will be true.

That’s okay.

You don’t have to be the best at everything.

You don’t have to finish first.

You don’t even have to get it right the first time.

But I want you to try.

And I’ve realized that some of the moments that have made me the proudest haven’t necessarily belonged to the students who completed the task the best or the fastest.

Sometimes the biggest win looks completely different.

We’ve had teams compete to build the tallest tower. Of course, everybody wanted to build the tallest one. There was plenty of excitement when we measured them.

But then I added a twist.

Could their tower actually hold something?

Suddenly, the tallest tower wasn’t necessarily the strongest.

Some teams had spent more time thinking about their foundation. Their tower might not have reached quite as high, but when we started adding weight, it stood.

There was a lesson in that too.

But even then, the biggest win wasn’t always the tallest or strongest tower.

Sometimes the win happened before we ever measured anything.

It was being placed on a team you didn’t choose and deciding to work together anyway.

It was listening to someone else’s idea.

It was encouraging the person beside you when they were struggling.

It was a student who might excel academically realizing that someone else had an idea worth hearing.

It was another student, one who may not always feel like the strongest student in the room, realizing, “Hey, I’m actually pretty good at this.”

It was watching kiddos who probably wouldn’t have chosen one another as partners work together and accomplish something they were proud of.

Those are wins too.

And I think we need to celebrate them.

This week, we’re doing origami.

I’ll go ahead and admit that origami is not something that comes naturally to me.

Slowing down, studying instructions, and following something step by step can be difficult for me. I tend to want to look at something, figure it out, and get it done.

Origami doesn’t really care how quickly I want to get it done.

You have to slow down.

Look carefully.

Follow the steps.

And sometimes you have to unfold the paper, figure out where you went wrong, back up a few steps, and try again.

I’ve watched students start this week’s activity convinced they couldn’t do it.

Then I’ve watched it click.

“Oh! I did it!”

Some students caught on quickly. Some needed help. Some surprised me in both directions.

And that’s exactly the point.

The student who struggled at the beginning wasn’t necessarily the student who struggled at the end.

Some kiddos who weren’t sure they could make one ended up making six or seven.

But even that isn’t what made me proudest.

I’m proud of the ones who got frustrated and tried again.

I’m proud of the ones who asked for help.

I’m proud of the ones who helped someone else without making them feel bad for needing help.

I’m proud of the ones who had to unfold their paper and start over.

I’m proud of the ones who didn’t make the tallest tower but encouraged every person on their team.

I’m proud of the child who worked with someone they probably wouldn’t have chosen and discovered that they could accomplish something together.

Because sometimes the win looks different.

We’re still early in the school year, and I know some of my kiddos are struggling with the idea that they don’t have to be great at everything.

If we’re being truthful, some of us adults are still struggling with that too.

We notice who finished first.

Who built the tallest.

Who made the best one.

Who got the highest score.

Who seemed to understand immediately.

But I want Room 108 to give them opportunities to notice something else.

Did you keep trying when it was hard?

Did you encourage somebody else?

Did you listen?

Did you work with people who are different from you?

Did you discover something you didn’t know you could do?

Did you give yourself enough grace to be a beginner?

Because sometimes success isn’t being the best person in the room at a particular task.

Sometimes success is finding the good in the situation you’ve been placed in and choosing to grow there.

Maybe you didn’t build the tallest tower.

Maybe yours couldn’t hold the most weight.

Maybe your origami didn’t look anything like the example the first time.

That’s okay.

Look a little closer.

You may have accomplished something just as important.

You learned to persevere.

You learned to encourage.

You learned to listen.

You learned to work with someone different from you.

You learned to try again.

You learned that someone else’s strength doesn’t diminish yours.

And maybe, little by little, you’re learning to give yourself some grace.

That’s what I hope happens in Room 108.

Yes, I want them to create.

I want them to discover.

I want them to build.

But I also want them to connect.

And somewhere in the middle of all of that, I hope they begin discovering just how much they are capable of.

Because the biggest win isn’t always the tallest tower.

Sometimes the biggest win is who we’re becoming while we’re building it.