When I Failed
Early May 2020, a U.C. Berkeley graduate Courtney Brosseau was killed in San Francisco by a random drive-shooting. One of my friends who knew him shared the news with his own website attached, and on that website, a section named “When I failed” caught my eye. He had a page dedicated to his failures to change perception on things that a lot of people tend to hide. I want to follow his example and do the same. This is a tribute to a my failures that taught me lessons and Courtney for shifting my perspective on it.
CS 61A Exam
Berkeley students who have taken Computer Science 61A will know that this class, to say the least, is an experience. Coming from a background with absolutely no experience of computer programming, taking this class filled with freshman and sophomore as a junior was a bit of a leap for me. Week 4 came, and I got my worst score I had ever gotten in my life at its first midterm (F, if you were wondering). A mini mental break down followed immediately after, but that also helped me pause and think of what I could do differently in the future. I noticed my fear of feeling inferior to others and my lack of patience for my progress. To change my mindset in approaching this class, I went to office hours at least three hours a day and asked for advice from freshmen to seniors. As I worked on projects with my classmates, I gradually started to feel the joy of working with people to make something new. And, at the end of the semester, I received a grade of B, which is not the best but shows my growth as a programmer. This class helped me build up patience for my progress and to let go of the fear of feeling “inferior” and take in the flexible mindset to learn instead. Being able to gain this lesson in such a supportive environment was one of the reasons I am grateful for education. Berkeley owes me many quarter life crisis, but I owe my school for even more opportunities to grow as a learner, like this one.
First lecture of CS 61A
Tanabata at Daraja, school I stayed during the summer
Lost Suitcases
In the summer of 2019, my younger sister and I stayed at a school in Kenya for two weeks to host workshops about Japan. Even though it was my third time going to Nairobi, flying across the globe with my sister was probably the most nerve wracking thing that happened for me. I thought of the worst scenarios, and quite literally everything I imagined happened on the way there—my sister became sick at the first layover in Rome, there was no reliable source of water or food at our another layover in Addis Ababa, our flight to Nairobi got delayed for four hours, and we could not find our driver for an hour. As a cherry on top, both of our suitcases went missing, and when I found out about that, I completely lost it. We were left with our small backpacks with no extra clothes or supplies for the workshops (including kimonos and calligraphy supplies). As much as I was upset about our suitcases, we decided to take this as an opportunity to improvise. We introduced Tanabata Festival to students to cheer them up during their final exam season. One of the faculties asked me to repaint the murals on campus, so I did with some help from students. After countless number of calls and emails, our suitcases came back to us on the last day at our stay. Even though this was not necessarily a failure that I could’ve avoided, it definitely challenged me to react to unexpected circumstances wisely. It taught me that depending on how you adapt to a situation, these “accidents” could be something that actually makes the trip.
reunited with the suitcases
Class Rep Elections
In freshman year, I ran for class rep at my new high school and didn’t get a spot. I was a new kid, my English was far from perfect (it was my 4th year in the U.S.), and my speech was not convincing, to say the least (I could barely pronounce the word “representative” right!). But still, this experience helped me get used to failures and accept it as a part of my progress. Next year, I ran for the same position again and still did not get the position. This second failure was really the one that called for the mindset of “fake it till you make it”. I realized that avoiding mistakes was the core reason I couldn’t overcome the language barrier even after four years of moving to the country. So, I pushed myself to raise my hand at least once in class everyday, and started organizing a small fundraiser for my club that had three people back then. The more I put myself on a stage in front of people, the more comfortable I got with my little mistakes. In the spring semester before my senior year, I was elected as the Event Commissioner of Student Executive Board, and my club became a student club of twelve people who organized a fundraiser that raised the most amount in my high school history.
Marching Band Rehearsal
Wow, you are reading this far—thank you so much, but I’m embarrassed at the same time. This was when I felt I made a mistake at something for the first time.
Every year at my elementary school in Japan, 6th graders perform a marching band in front of school at an annual event. My class elected me as the conductor of the band, which meant that the practice wouldn’t start until I show up to the music room. One time, I completely slept through my alarm and missed the practice, and forty of my friends were waiting for me. The moment I stepped into the practice room was one of my scariest experience in Japan. When I apologized to my classmates, it taught me that my actions do have a consequence. It was one of the first times I learned my responsibility for something larger than myself.