Turning "My Bad" into Good

The Problem

Coaches and Parents, I beg of you to stick with me at the beginning of this article. Believe me, I have been in the situation we are all envisioning:

A student, an athlete, a child fails to some degree at a task and responds to criticism, or redirection, or questioning with, “My bad.”

We all know the range of this failure has at least two scales. One is the actuality of the failure in terms of expected tangible outcomes and the other is how intangibly irritating their failure is to those of us in charge of the situation.

The normal, natural, and totally acceptable response, (ideally controlled enough to remain in our heads), is, “You’re [expletive] [combo expletive option] right it’s ‘YOUR BAD’! Whose else would it be?!”

Often, “My bad” is just as progressive as "I’m sorry” can be for children and young adults. They have no real desire to address, acknowledge, or investigate the ins-and-outs of their mistakes, so they offer a transition phrase with the intention of moving things along. Sometimes it may be meant to convey “I understand”, sometimes it may be meant to convey “get off my back”. Either way, it can be infuriating to those of use attempting to teach them an appropriate way of doing things or give them advice on how to improve their own standing and performance.

But what if? What if we were able to turn the tables on their attempt to sidestep a situation? What if we were able to use their moment of weakness to empower them? What if we could take “My bad” and help turn it into their good?

The Task

When do young, growing humans need more empowerment than in their most embarrassing, vulnerable moments? More, how do we help empower the ones who are passing on those failures as insignificant and meaningless? Entering into the task should be perceived as a contract, and a contract which comes with a failure clause: you may not succeed and that is just part of the deal. Understanding this before attempting anything is paramount to the “growth success” of the task.

With that understanding, (or those teachings after we have worked with individuals to embrace that reality), why not take “my bad” and agree with them? Not in the sense we all love to mentioned above, but in a way that acknowledges their part in the result as powerful and purposeful.

In the midst of a culture with a “victim mindset”, at least these individuals are expressing their own role in the story-line of their lives. Let’s take “My bad” and encourage our young subjects to take that same control and apply it to making amends or turning the tides. It is a simple concept, but one that will trap them in their own influence upon their life and their circumstance. Even if just for that one “ah-ha” moment while they are trying to process or deflect a moment of missing the mark, we can not only support them but help to train the instinct of immediately seeing the first step to recovery.

Simple but effective.

Own your “My bad”.

Own Your I

Extended Research

There are some sources that say former NBA Player Manute Bol may have actually lead the popular use of the phrase.

https://www.visualthesaurus.com/cm/wordroutes/the-manute-bol-theory-of-my-bad/

Competitive Wellness Series - Failure as the Challenge

I recently trekked to Garrettsville, Ohio for a Spartan obstacle race. Participating in the “Beast” version of the event, I had 13+ miles and 30+ obstacles between me and my first ever “Trifecta”, (the completion of the three core races of the Spartan promotion at different distances). Being the reluctant runner that I am, I was thankful for the muddy and thigh-high aquatic excuses to pace myself to solid-ground jogs and precarious-footing power-walks. After a palm-tear early in the race, (most frustratingly because of a mental lapse, not a physical one, though I was able to complete the obstacle during which it occurred), I had something to occupy the sensorial survival input and distract me from the distance still left to be covered.

Now, it needs to be very clear that I am not competitive outside of myself in these events. I run in the Open heats, that is, I am very realistic that if I entered my own age group it would spark a Rube Goldberg-esq chain of mental, emotional, and competitive personal judgments that would penetrate the perimeter of my peaceful, passive, protected Pride. That’s an overstatement, maybe, in that it takes away from the enjoyment of the Open. The whole draw of the Spartan Race for me has been connection to family, to friends, and to fellow racers. To help, to be helped, to recognize those who may need help, and to recognize when that “those” may include me, the value of these experiences are irreplaceable. Don’t get me wrong, those that race Elite and Age Group are incredible athletes and competitors, and I enjoy watching those races as a fan. I just know the Present Moment Me.

Immediately beyond the Sprint (3+ miles), Super (8+), and Beast (12+), lies the Spartan Ultra, a race doubled the Beast. This race hit the starting line well before the Open heat I was in, donning their purple pinnies. There were moments along the course where our courses overlapped, which led to some truly…genuine…interactions. These athletes were pushing themselves to perceived limits, either confirming them or blasting right through. During one particularly muddy trudge, most likely carrying something, I heard a couple Ultra racers talking about challenging themselves.

It followed along the lines of, “I’ve done the other races and wanted to really push myself” and, “I’m competitive and understand this is about finishing, but I can’t stand the thought of failing”. I took liberties to add a whole lot of words and delete a whole lot of grunts and obscenities, but that was the gist of it.

As I walked slightly ahead of them, (not bragging, they’d probably done twice the distance I had to that point), I heard this and began thinking that maybe for her the true challenge was not the race itself, but Failure.

As athletes and competitors, we are programmed to “hate losing more than we like winning”, an oversimplification and complete disregard for the value of failure as an input to greater success. How many times do we see success, or winning, beget complacency and underachievement? How often do we see those, who accept and embrace a setback, overcome even greater odds to become victorious, either in the standings, in the contest, or simply in life? It would be negligent of us to discard the possibility of Failure being the endgame of some endeavors. Maybe the challenge is failing. Kudos to those who are brave enough, and secure enough, to put themselves in a position where this may be the case, considering we are often impressed to believe failure is…well…failure.

I’m not the motivational type, not externally at least. I’m not going to tell you “the Universe only gives you what you can handle” or the like. I’m not saying anything new or unique, I’m not changing the world with Thought. Sometimes the consideration is the first step toward recovery, or achievement, or the final step to the Past…or something more poetic. Just consider that maybe knowing how to fail is an integral part of knowing how to succeed.

Before my race, there had been a few moments of “what ifs” that resulted in me not completing the Beast. On average, who I am said I would not have handled that very well. The “competitively well” of me made solid efforts to justify and weasel some sense into thinking I would have been ok with it, but for the most part even the thought of failure ate away at me. This isn’t always a “practice what you preach” arena…I know I”m still growing. The competitor in me will always punch my insides when I see my finishing time, or ranking, but I’ve extensive experience with losing, so I continue to master it.

Like when I saw that Elite runner, Ryan Woods, finished the Spartan Ultra, (DOUBLE the length and obstacles), two minutes faster than I finished the Beast…

Fail Well, Friends…but not too often.