Why I’m Glad I Failed My Mock Exam (Part 2)

Upon my return home from the SPI Course I had a lot of explaining to do. Mostly to myself, but I had spent the last couple months around the gym telling people about my course. A lot of my fellow climbers in the community were excited for me. Many of them assured me I’d “do great” “crush it” “be fine”. Now I was coming home with news of my failure.

My performance, like this cam placement, was not good.

That season I was determined to bring myself to a place where I knew I would succeed. I built anchors in my backyard on trees and fence posts. I dragged Julie an hour and a half to our “local” crag, a 20 foot tall wall of soft sandstone, to practice drills for belaying, rescue, backups and other technical systems. I got a job at a local gym teaching lead belay lessons and taking private coaching sessions when I could. I sharpened my sword.

When my exam weekend finally arrived, I was a different person. A different climber, a different instructor. Exam drills that had me sweating back in April now seemed trivial. I brought tricks with me that I hadn’t learned during my SPI Course. During one drill, as I hung from a bolted anchor 60 feet off the ground, I realized that I had left some important gear on the ground. So I improvised, going completely off script and still managing to execute the drill safely. Sunday evening as I sat for my debrief with Wes I was confident. We had a short conversation, he shared some very kind words with me, we shook hands, and I headed back to Michigan.

I had done it.

Celebrating hours after passing my exam.

Recently I found myself reflecting on that first weekend. It’s hard to feel this now, but at the time, I was bummed. I felt like a failure. I felt like a letdown. I had to go back home and tell everyone that I did not pass my exam, that I didn’t even take it. I chickened out, running back home with my tail between my legs.

I had higher standards for myself, and I knew that many people in my community had a similar expectation of me. I used that feeling as the motivator. Yes, bringing myself up to the standard I needed to would be hard, but telling everyone that I wasn’t going to become a guide would have been way harder.

Failing that mock exam forced me to re-evaluate myself. I had to acknowledge my weaknesses, and I had to spend a lot of time working on them. I had to be open and honest with other people; my coworkers, my students, my boss. I had to settle down and learn from other people. I tested my humility. I focused on keeping my mind open and reminding myself that I needed to get better.

Rappelling off of Seneca Rocks was a great reminder of how small I am.

If I had passed that initial exam, I would be worse off for it. By going from “zero to hero” in a week’s time I would have been inflated with a false confidence. I suggested, and Wes agreed, that even if I had passed that first exam, I would not have been ready to start guiding trips. My hubris could have potentially led to situations that I was not prepared to handle. I could have gotten people hurt.

I also would not have had nearly as much respect for the process. I would have been stuck with the mindset of “this is a breeze, I’m amazing at this and everyone else sucks”, I would have eschewed large parts of my training, deeming them unnecessary for my particular style of teaching. I would have felt like I dominated the process of becoming a professional instructor, and in doing so, I would have left myself open to more serious failure.

Failing my mock exam forced me to grow. I spent months teaching people how to climb. I must have worked with 100 different students, adapting my techniques to remain effective no matter who my clients were. I found role models and I shamelessly stole their tricks. I read articles. I watched videos. I tied knots around my cat tree for months. I got good.

Me, being “good” at teaching.

When I receive feedback on my teaching, I believe it. Imposter syndrome can be suffocating. The inability to accept a compliment is crippling. No matter what you hear, what you see, there is always this nagging voice in the back of your mind…. “They just don’t know. They’re not good enough to see that you’re a fraud.” By forcing myself to grow, slowly, one week at a time, I could verify to myself that I had earned it.

Hindsight is an interesting gift; the ability to reflect deeply on events that we can no longer influence can feel equally therapeutic and maddening. It’s satisfying to look back at a moment in time which felt so bad and realize that so much good came out of it.

As we come to the end of our first year I am very proud of the Detroit Climbing School, of the experiences that we’ve helped create. I know that without that failed exam, many of those experiences would have been much different. I’m proud that we can confidently say we are the best climbing school in the state. I’m proud of our clients who can attest to that. I’m proud that we grew into what we are today. And I’m proud of what we’ll continue growing into.

I’ll mostly continue to grow into an old monkey.

Let’s go climbing!