Bubblewrapping Risky Business

In the 1970’s, before we wore seatbelts in cars and everyone smoked, all the time, everywhere, there was a super fun game called lawn darts. These were weighted, metal-tipped, oversized darts that you threw towards a target on the grass. It was like a cross between regular darts and horseshoes. People would get together and drink beer and play this in the backyard, much the way we play cornhole today.

The thing is, if you get hit in the head with a bean bag, you might be a little mad. If you get hit with a lawn dart, in any part of your body, you will end up in the ER.

Lawn darts caused so many problems that they are banned in the U.S. If you come across lawn darts while perusing your parent’s or grandparent’s garage, the federal government would like for you to throw them out. They are so hazardous to health, that Canada had to issue warnings about people buying and selling them at garage sales.  

But as a child, none of that mattered to me. I was a kid who grew up in a bubble wrapped existence. Well, not quite bubble wrapped. Just really, really safe.

There were no pools or trampolines. Definitely no running with scissors. And, as you might guess, absolutely, definitively, no lawn darts.

Why all of the safety? So glad you asked.

My father worked, his entire career, for the insurance industry. As a result, he knew things about risk…and all of the ways to mitigate it.

For example, in every house we owned while I was growing up, there was a fire hydrant on the corner of the property. Why does this matter? It matters because it takes less time for the fire department to pump water to a potential fire in your house. While there is still the possibility that a fire can happen, there is simultaneously higher potential for it to be put out swiftly. Mitigating the overall risk.

And, incidentally, lowering your insurance costs.

I think this attitude of “risk mitigation” isn’t just limited to my very specific childhood milieu. In fact, I think its fairly prevalent in American culture. It didn’t stop at regulating outdoor games or plastering the words “Caution, beverage hot” on fast food coffee cups. It’s been seeping into our lives in other ways.

Like Helicopter parenting. Or the more recently coined and more aggressive Snowplow or Bulldozer parenting. The idea being that choosing correctly and performing in the “right” ways will somehow remove the risks of failing. Or that clearing all obstacles will completely wipe away the potential that things will ever go badly.

While I heartily agree that no one should run with scissors or play lawn darts, I don’t believe that it’s actually possible to completely mitigate risks of the most commonly feared things. For yourself or for others.  And I’m not sure it’s entirely prudent to try.

Despite my current stance, I did try to do this for a long time, and I know I’m not alone.

Risk mitigation at all costs aims to avoid failure because failure feels bad. Mostly because of the gaze of others. And I really think that is the motivation behind avoiding it. At least that has been my motivation for avoiding failure.

Failure can come in many forms. Not getting the dream job. Getting divorced. Not reaching some goal you set out to achieve. You took a risk, and it didn’t pan out.

After the tears and frustration, however, failure often forces our hand. We find we need to choose something new. Maybe if you hadn’t been fired, you never would have started your own business. Maybe, in leaving a failing friendship, you learned about how you want to show up for yourself and others in the future. Maybe, when things don’t work out, you learn the “safe” route was actually the “culturally acceptable route” and decide that it never fit you anyway.

For example, I was fired for having a baby. Which felt like both betrayal and failure at the same time (and possibly some feminist rage). I was a contractor, so this was how it goes. But it didn’t make me feel any less like a failure. My mind was flooded with the typical crap. “What will people think?”  and “What will I do?”

With the loss of a job while living in a foreign country, I was forced to think quickly. To take actions that I otherwise might not have considered. Like cold call an office and inquire about openings even though none were posted on the website.  This landed me a job which offered student loan repayment. As a result, I accelerated my financial life in ways I wouldn’t have if I had stayed at the contracting job.

My failure led to a series of events that turned out in my benefit. In addition, I learned to be a little more bold about asking for what I wanted. That particular incident taught me so much about negotiation, in fact, that I now occasionally help friends negotiate their work contracts to get what they want.

Since we are talking about job loss, I’ll mention a friend of mine. He lost his job at a great company. Since he is very good at what he does, he decided to start his own firm. Within a very short time, he was busy again, with higher earnings than he had at the job that let him go.

The kicker? His old job called and told him that they had made a mistake by firing him. They really wanted him back. They were having a difficult time solving problems that he was good at. Instead of taking them up on their offer, he sent them his pricing structure and they are now paying his firm more for his services than they did when he still worked there.

By denying or trying to mitigate every single risk, we might also be denying the opportunities on the other side of that risk. By doing everything to prevent failure, we might prevent ourselves from rising to the occasion and showing ourselves what we are truly made of.

In all of my attempts to avoid failure, the only actual failure was that of not believing in myself. I wanted to keep things “safe” because I had doubts about whether or not I could handle it if things went sideways.

When I figured that out, it hit hard. I didn’t believe in my own power to make it in the world as myself. I doubted my own capability.

As a parent, this cut things right down to the bone. If I don’t let my kiddo fail, I send that same message to them. If I try to make the way smooth and prevent them from failing, I’m telling them that I don’t think they are capable of managing difficult or uncomfortable things that come with failure.

Yikes.

Of course, we do need to be discerning. Physical, mental, and emotional health are massively important. If your kid finds large, brightly colored, shiny-tipped projectiles in a friends backyard, you, and all regulatory agencies should move to intercept them. But when it comes to not making the basketball team, perhaps it’s simply an opportunity to help them reflect. To help them find their strength after the perceived failure.

Even though my father is retired, he still thinks like an insurance executive. Anytime he and my mom come to visit, we are usually going to a playground or a soccer field, or an indoor trampoline park. No matter the place, I see him survey the landscape and shake his head. He is calculating the risks all around us.

Except at the trampoline park. There I give him a paper bag to breath into.

In all seriousness, I’m beginning to believe the riskiest thing is to stay in a bubble. To protect ourselves from failure. To deny ourselves a chance at really living life. To avoid seeing our true capabilities and greater possibilities on the other side of failure.

As for me, I’m shedding the bubble wrap armor, and trusting I’ll keep on failing into a more awesome future.