Learning from Mistakes

"It's not a mistake if you learn from it." I tell my children this all the time because I want them to see how mistakes should be teaching moments instead of a gateway into self loathing and negativity. It's a beautiful thing to say, and it's a beautiful thing to watch when they take what I say to heart, but it is so incredibly hard to do.

When I make mistakes, which happens frequently, it's hard for me to take my own advice. Take yesterday for example, when I discovered I had made an exquisite mistake. I didn't catch the misspelling of a local community in the November issue. Not only was this a community that's in the town I live in; it's a community in which I've volunteered and drive past every day. It's a community I'm always telling my neighbors about when they say they've never heard of it. It's Smithville, and in the article about Honora Ruggiero on pages 25 and 26 in the November issue, you'll see that the community is spelled Smithfield.

Smithville is a primarily African American community in downtown Cornelius off of Catawba Avenue, and it has been here way longer than Lake Norman. In fact, its roots date back to around 1869. The area was originally known as Limley until 1910. To learn more, visit the Smithville Community Coalition page on Facebook.

Even though I proofed this copy many times, I didn't catch the misspelling. Once someone pointed out the mistake to me last night, I proceeded to beat myself up for a few hours, completely forgetting the advice I constantly share with my children regarding mistakes.

Finally, I came to a moment of peace when my wise mind decided to intervene. Yes, correct spelling in the magazine is my responsibility. Yes, my mother has been pointing out mistakes to me in publications ever since I could walk, and yes, I can't stand to see a mistake in print (Thanks, Mom.). And extra yes, I know how to spell Smithville.

Regardless, these things happen, and remembering this mistake will only encourage me to read copy a few more times and even more closely.

My 7-year-old daughter tried to give me my own advice last night, as she walked over to me and put her hand on my arm. If anything, that's the silver lining in this. At least she knows how to handle mistakes.