A Plus
by Molly-Ann Leikin

The world is full of great, invisible ideas flying around our heads like colored ribbons waiting for us to pull them in and claim them as our own. But so often as a creativity consultant, I hear my clients say, "I didn't think my idea was good enough, so I didn't bother going further."

Whenever that happens, it's a tragedy, a loss for all of us. It's like a picture Van Gogh didn't paint, or a symphony Beethoven tore up. Think how our lives would have been if the first Model A Ford kept blowing pistons or whatever those things are called, and Henry himself said "Nobody likes this. I'm gonna keep my horse."

When I'm in my most whimsical, child-like mindset, I believe when we get an idea, we are actually chosen by the universe to develop it. The angels in the Idea and Innovations Department of heaven have daily meetings and determine "We'll give this one to Cindy La Fond, in Louisiana, and this one to Freddy R. Fez in Morocco." We are chosen because of our gifts to use them and create whatever our talents challenge us to do. But ignoring our ideas is like spitting at angels.

I know how hard it is for a creative person, who, by definition is insecure, to forge ahead when the input he is getting is negative. Suppose you spend two years developing software that designs trucks, manufactures them, keeps the gas tank full at all times, delivers trucks to dealerships and changes the oil, while you stay home collecting the cash. Suppose you finally present your idea to a software distributor, who says "Nah, we're not in the automobile business. We can't bully enough computer manufacturers into bundling this program to make it worth our while. Trash it". So you do.

Isn't it interesting that as creative people we usually believe what other people tell us about our work, and not what we tell ourselves. Initially, we think it's special, or else why would we have spent the time working on it? I believe we're actually afraid to take creative control of ourselves. When we get brave enough to show our ideas to somebody, who could be suffering from irregularity, jealousy or both, we risk a response that isn't what we want. We lose our courage, dump the project and everybody loses.

This was the case with one of my clients in Oregon. Let's call her Susie. She is a very talented lady, with an extraordinary voice. She writes excellent melodies, but always struggles with the words. She can tell me what she wants to say, but she expects to write awful lyrics and does. So we discussed that. A lot. And then she discovered the dynamic at work in her creative process.

As a six year-old, Susie's class was asked by her first grade teacher to write a little story and draw a picture about it. The best story/pictures from the group were going to be hung up on the classroom walls for parent/teacher night. Susie worked diligently on her story/drawing for several weeks, longing to see her picture on the honor wall.

The day she handed in her assignment, her teacher told her there was a comma missing, and gave her an A minus. That teacher displayed Susie's work, but hung it between two drawings that had A plusses on them.

Poor Susie was crushed. She felt she had failed. To her, A plus was the only acceptable grade, and A minus was worse than an F.

I learned something from Susie. As artists, we have extraordinarily high demands on ourselves. We stockpile our past failures and insist that our new project has to make up for all of the ones that missed. So the only acceptable response is an A plus. When you think about it, an A minus is a very good grade, (especially if it were in math and on my report card.) But Susie was devastated, and since first grade, refused to try to write anything with words - only melody, because she lived in fear of another A minus.

Consider this: for an assignment in a business school class, there was a young man who created a new kind of company, but his professor told him it was impractical, and gave him a C. The young man didn't buy the professor's criticism, and developed his idea anyway. Which means he took creative control over himself. By the way, the company he founded is called Federal Express.

But in Susie's world, a Broadway play that doesn't run for ten years, and doesn't get bigger audiences than "Rent", is a flop. If it's on Broadway for nine years and eleven months, do you realize what a victory that is in itself? Just getting to Boston for a tryout is a major coup. But Susie decided as a child that her work had to be perfect - like the other perfect stories in the class.

When I realized what her history was, Susie and I could work beyond that to change her future. Now Susie writes lyrics and stories with confidence and excitement. She is a happy, fulfulled artist. In fact, she just had a musical optioned for Broadway.

But her experience made me realize how fragile we are to criticism. The the wrong response from a passing stranger can shut us down completely. Nobody but you has the power to tell you if you're good or not. Trust the little voice in your head that has the courage to find a scrap of paper and scribble down your idea in the dark. Trust the kid in you to bubble over with enthusiasm for a new kind of kiwi, or a skate board that makes sushi. Pamper that kid all you can to keep him/her excited.

And always give yourself an A plus, just for showing up. In the world of ideas, there are no A minus projects, just A Minus critics who are afraid of your greatness.

© 1999 Molly-Ann Leikin

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