My First Real Failure In Life

At age 21, I was fresh out of the army and wanted to get my first job in the real world.

With no work experience and relatively few real life skills, most jobs I could get were minimum wage and repetitive.

But there was one job I was perfect for.

I could be an SAT instructor.

The Israeli SAT (called “Psichomteri”) is a test anyone who applies to university in Israel must take.

For the most sought-after degree programs, a 2-point difference in your SAT score might make the difference between ‘accepted’ and ‘rejected’. With stakes this high, people pay a pretty penny for preparation courses.

Accordingly, SAT instructors get paid well. Back in 2002, when I applied, even newbie instructors got paid twice the minimum wage.

I felt I was a great match for the job.

To start off, my SAT score was near perfect.

I scored 790 out of 800, which represented one mistake out of about 200 multiple-answer questions.

Being good at something doesn’t mean you can teach it – but I also had ample teaching experience.

During my army service, I had already known I wanted to be an SAT instructor when I become a civilian. I tried to get as many teaching opportunities as I could. I even tried to organize a free SAT course for other soldiers, but the officers in charge never gave their permission.

Eventually, I was sent to an army “Teaching Methods” course, where for 2 weeks I practiced making presentations and teaching them to my peers.

In my final year of army service, I was made “teaching coordinator”. The position consisted of creating study materials and one-on-one teaching, as well as occasional onstage presentations.

SAT knowledge – tick.
Teaching experience – tick.

I used to tell everyone during my army service:

“When I’m done serving my army duty, I’m going to become an SAT instructor.”

I was convinced of how much I wanted it and how well I fit the job. It was destined to happen.

And so, not long after finishing my military service, I started contacting SAT schools and asking if they’re looking for new instructors.

I got an interview with one school.

In the interview I talked about how I had been preparing to get this job for the previous 3 years. I also did a short presentation, and they were impressed by my stage presence.

A day or two after the interview they contacted me. The instructor training course would start next week… and I was in!

Awesome. My first job in the real world was going to be exactly what I planned.

Or, was it?

Instructors training

The instructor training course was to last 2 weeks.

Everyone around was a bit nervous, which was natural seeing we were starting a new career path.

To alleviate fears, the head instructor said as he started the course:

“You can all relax. We’re not going to eliminate anyone here. If you’re here, you’re good enough to be an instructor – and in exactly 2 weeks time, you will be teaching your first SAT class!”

Training mostly consisted of standing on stage, teaching some course material and then getting feedback from fellow students and instructors. The comments I was given were on par with everyone else’s.

To wrap up the first week of the training course, we all had to present to a panel of experienced SAT instructors.

The instructors would simulate a “real classroom”, and we were expected to handle the resulting classroom dynamics.

Each experienced SAT instructor had his or her “student” role.

One of the “students” asked questions that were too advanced for the rest of the class.

Another did just the opposite – asked basic questions on topics that most of the classroom didn’t need further explanation on.

A third one was making loud passing comments, just being a brat. And so on.

It was a challenge.

During my army time, I was used to standing onstage and presenting. But I always held the authority over the classroom with my rank. Also, I’ve had small classrooms and relatively few interruptions ever.

Either way, this specific presentation was difficult for everyone. I saw other people stress on stage and then pull through. I thought I did just as well as the others.

I guess I was wrong.

Come to my office

It was an hour after we all finished our “simulated class” exercise. We were waiting for the head instructor to come in and give us our personalized feedback – the aggregate of what the instructors agreed they should work on, based on our performance.

The head instructor was a bit late, and when he arrived, instead of walking to the front of the class and talking to everyone, he just peaked his head through the door and said:

“Almog, can you come with me please?”

I followed him in the corridor to his office.

I wasn’t really worried, just curious. After all, he did say everyone who started the training would become an instructor.

Sitting at his table across from me, he said:

“Me and the other instructors talked about everyone and you stood out.”

Wow, great! I was even more awesome than I thought!

“We all agreed that there’s something not quite right with the way you presented. The consensus was that, at this moment, you’re not ready to become an instructor.

“So, you will not be continuing the next week of training. We will pay you for the inconvenience.

“This is where our roads part. Good luck.”

I heard every word he said but at the same time, it felt like I was watching it on some kind of TV drama.

This can’t be happening.

It… It wasn’t fair!

I played by the rules. I didn’t ask for something I didn’t deserve. I worked hard to be a good candidate for the job – now I deserve to get the rewards!

I tried pressing him for more details, but he couldn’t say exactly what it was. Just something they all agreed on – something didn’t feel “quite right”.

There was only one explanation for all of this, I thought. I was a good instructor – and there was a conspiracy going on. I don’t what it is – but the instructors hated me.

It’s weird that I believed that for even a second, but I did. My frail ego just couldn’t accept that I failed on merit, that I wasn’t good enough.

My dad was actually friends with an executive working in the school, and so I asked him to pull a favor and ask for the “inside story” – the real reason about why I was fired.

Of course, there was none. The executive asked the head instructor, who repeated verbatim what he told me – I was just “not quite right” – without further explanation.

Instructors Training, Take 2

I remembered there was still one more school  was looking for instructors. Their training course hadn’t yet started.

I called them the day after being fired and asked whether they were still looking for instructors. It was a long shot… But they were still hiring!

Once again, I crushed the interview and was accepted into instructors training.

Unlike the first school we were told upfront that not all of us would become instructors.

“If you’re not good enough – you’ll be weeded out.”

The head instructor in this school was a very talented teacher. He also had a short temper and an acid tongue.

“You have to be more assertive in front of the class, Almog. You’re their leader!” he said to me as I was teaching.

“Ok, what specifically should I do differently?” I asked.

“I… I don’t know. It’s just your vibe.”

Again this vague feedback. I tried to understand, but I couldn’t.

One day, the head instructor had an idea. I wasn’t sure what he was trying to get at… But he asked me to teach the entire class while walking around the classroom in circles.

I figured it was a way to test how focused I was. We all had to memorize the flow of a powerpoint presentation. Walking around the classroom wouldn’t distract me from that – I knew it all by heart.

After a few minutes of walking around in circles and teaching without losing a beat, he asked another student to start walking behind me in the circle… And to try and trip me.

This was a lot more distracting.

I slowed down my steps, didn’t let the other student’s kicks or the physical annoyance get to me, and kept talking. I wasn’t sure why he was testing my focus like this, but I felt like I did really well!

“OK, Stop.” He said.

His face was one of disappointment.

“I was trying to get you to be angry, but even THAT couldn’t get it out of you.” He said. “Come to my office after class.”

So, two weeks after being fired from the first instructors training – another head instructor, in another SAT school, fired me from a job I used to think I was perfect for.

This time, he had feedback though.

Feedback

“You’re fine as a presenter. That’s not the problem.

“The issue is that you’re a people pleaser. This is a good quality to have if you’re a waiter or a personal assistant. But, as an instructor you have to lead the classroom.

“Right now, you want even people who disturb or ask irrelevant questions to like you. You want to do right by all of them.

“You can’t give each and everyone a perfect experience. This isn’t a private lesson. Your responsibility is to give the class as a whole a good experience.

“I think you could become a good SAT instructor. Just not by the end of next week, not by the end of this training course.”

And with that, he let me go.

My image of myself as a great instructor was shattered. The conspiracy argument certainly could not hold water any longer – I just wasn’t good enough.

I still needed to make money to save for my big post-army backpacking trip, a rite of passage for any self respecting Israeli. So I found a job paying a bit over minimum wage, working in a call center for a mortgage bank.

2 years later, after coming back from my trip, I tried to become an instructor again – and applied with a few other schools. It never worked out. I never passed the first interview again. Maybe I was too nervous.

Having said that, I guess the feedback stayed with me. Looking back at it, it was %100 correct. It was worth going through all that disappointment just to have my sticking point pegged that well.

Fast Forward

Fast forward to 2010. I had been a dating coach for the last 3 years.

By now, I had taught dozens of workshops and had done a lot of public talks in front of audiences of various sizes.

Fair to say, my presentation skills have improved a lot. My general self-confidence was also a lot higher after the intense self-reflection I did during my time in the dating community.

But I didn’t realized how much I had changed until I was invited to speak in one dating conference.

“The Attraction Masterclass” had an audience of about 50 men, and was held in an intimate venue in Sydney’s inner suburbs.

Every speaker had to prepare a 45-minutes long talk and present it to the audience. I was the fourth or fifth presenter. While waiting my turn, I sat and watched my fellow dating coaches present.

An audience member (who coincidentally or not, was an Israeli) kept abruptly interrupting the speakers with questions. It was as if there was no filter between his thoughts and his mouth.

Most speakers ended up in a dialogue with him, and answering his (mostly irrelevant) questions for a few minutes at a time.

None of the first few speakers managed to get to the end of their planned presentations. I could tell the audience was getting annoyed too. People were mumbling, “get on with it” to remind the presenters there were other people in the room.

“This isn’t going to happen to me”, I thought.

As I got up and introduced myself, I said, “If anyone has a question during my presentation, please raise your hands. I will also provide Q&A time at the end.”

Not even three minutes into my presentation, Mr. Heckler decided to ignore my instruction and shouted a question my way.

Unfazed and smiling, I said “You’ll have to raise your hand if you have a question, buddy”.

His jaw dropped. The rest of the room giggled in relief.

I finished my presentation in time and gave everyone – including Mr. Heckler – 5 minutes for questions and answers.

Thinking about it later, I realized how far I’ve come since my SAT instructor failures.

I thought of the two head instructors who fired me. If only they could see what I’ve become.

Lessons from Failure

I was brought up to believe that I was talented, and that I could achieve everything with the right amount of work and focus. For 21 years, that idea held up to reality.

Getting fired from the SAT schools was probably the first big failure I had in life life.

I did what I was supposed to do, and still I failed.

There within lies the first lesson. Failure happens to everyone at some point. It’s unavoidable.

I wanted to become an SAT instructor. I wanted good money, but when I think about it – I really just liked being in front of people and teaching. And so, I didn’t stop seeking the stage.

When I let go of the silly idea of conspiracy and accepted I failed, I eventually managed to get some feedback. I needed to take care of the entire class. I needed to feel the room better and lead them.

I wasn’t ready then, but that advice kept reverberating in my mind.

There within lies the second lesson from failures. Many times failure doesn’t mean “Never” – it just means “Not Now.”

If we can just find the reason for our failure, we learn so much about why we couldn’t do it “Now”.

I never became an SAT instructor. But in the bigger picture of my life, that doesn’t matter.

In fact, that temporary failure became fuel for extra growth, popped my ego and instilled some modesty in me.

That failure made me a better person.

Failures… Heck, if you can’t avoid them – might as well learn from them.