“וְאָמַר רַב חִסְדָּא: לָא חֶלְמָא טָבָא מִקַּיַּים כּוּלֵּיהּ וְלָא חֶלְמָא בִּישָׁא מִקַּיַּים כּוּלֵּיהּ…”
“If you’re so unemployable, how did you get a Wexner Fellowship?”
My entry into the Wexner Field Fellowship came during a frustrating professional period. I knew that I wanted to take my next professional step but was pessimistic bordering on fatalistic about my employment prospects. Worse, this was not a “new problem.” In rabbinical school, one of my mentors described my feelings about professional rejection as “almost pathological.” Ouch.
So tragically, when asked by my coach funded by The Wexner Foundation to explain a professional success, I struggled to conjure a semblance of an answer.
This was the first moment I thought of writing my résumé of failures.
In “A CV of Failures,”[1] Dr. Melanie Stefan estimates that for every hour she spends on a successful project, she spends six hours working on projects that failed. While the extra effort does not bother her, she argues that by only posting successes on her CV, she is hiding the majority of her work. She writes:
“As scientists, we construct a narrative of success that renders our setbacks invisible both to ourselves and to others. Often, other scientists’ careers seem to be a constant, streamlined series of triumphs. Therefore, whenever we experience an individual failure, we feel alone and dejected.”[2]
Stefan encourages colleagues to post a CV of rejections not only because it shows just how much work it takes to be successful, but also because it ends the silence around failure, a rebuttal to the narrative that successful professionals must present a pristine image for others to see.
As counter intuitive as it might sound, during my own strange and difficult professional chapter, I started keeping a résumé of failures. Don’t tell anyone, but this résumé is incredibly impressive!
When I look at my résumé or show it to someone else, a few questions naturally arise:
Was I a serious candidate for all of these positions?
I hope so.
Perhaps I should be more selective in where I apply?
Possibly.
Do I sound bitter?
(Afraid to answer.)
Could I be guilty of the negativity bias, conveniently forgetting all of my professional wins?[3]
Maybe I’m not alone, and countless others have a similar story to mine?
I have no idea.
And that is a tragedy.
Jewish leaders compete every day for jobs, fellowship, grants, donors, accolades, etc. And yet while we are eager, often too eager, to bemoan the failures of our institutions, how often do we see leaders publicly reflect on personal failures? Ironically, in a world where “psychological safety” and “daring greatly” are ubiquitous in our professional lexicon, there remains a sizable gap between intending to speak the truth about personal failure and actually speaking about it.
Even when we do talk about failure, it’s usually an attempt to make ourselves look superior. Using terms like “failing forward” or “daring to fail” might sound vulnerable, but really it’s a way of patting ourselves on the back for trying to be innovative, some kind of weird fusion between false modesty and wild overconfidence.
Thus, every time I mentor another professional, the first thing I do is show them my résumé of failures. I want them to understand that it’s okay not to be perfect, and that by sharing our stories of failure with one another, we lose nothing ourselves, but we gain everything as colleagues. Because when we cannot find affirmation from people, we are left to find affirmation in things. Feeling unrecognized is hard enough, but feeling that no one cares is far, far worse.
Rav Hisda teaches in the Talmud that, “A good dream is not entirely fulfilled and a bad dream is not entirely fulfilled.”[4] In a later passage, Rabbi Berekhyah modifies Rav Hisda’s statement and says, “Even though part of a dream is fulfilled, all of it is not fulfilled.”[5] Playing on the story of Joseph, the Torah’s ultimate dreamer, the Talmud wants us to remember that even the person who seems to achieve all of their dreams was forced to deal with disappointment along the way.
In March 2020, I delivered a version of what I have said in this article at the Spring Institute of the Wexner Field Fellowship. Although it remains one of my proudest pieces of writing, I only show it to a select few. Even today, it takes courage to share all the gory details about failure, even when you know it’s the right thing to do.
And so for you, dear reader, I have a few pieces of advice.
- Don’t let a failure, or a series of failures, or years of feeling like you’re a failure, keep you from dreaming.
- Keep a résumé of failures, and share it with colleagues you care about and who care about you. You will feel a sense of healing, even if you don’t know why.
- Tell me your story of failure. It’s a new project I am working on. Submissions are completely anonymous, and the Google Form does not automatically collect email addresses. If you have a story on your resume of failures that you would like to share, please fill out this short form. Submissions are completely anonymous, and the Google Form does not automatically collect email addresses.
But let’s return to the opening question…
“If you’re so unemployable, how did you get a Wexner Fellowship?”
The most important result of keeping my résumé of failures is that it finally gave me an answer for my coach. If I could do it over again, I would have said: “I am here because I don’t stop dreaming, even when I want to, with every fiber of my being.”
And you shouldn’t either. All the rest is commentary. Go and study.
This piece is dedicated to the Wexner Field Fellowship Class 2, whose patience, compassion, and love inspired me to share my story.
[1] Melanie Stefan, “A CV of Failures,” Nature, Volume 468 (2010).
[2] Ibid.
[3] Paul Rozin and Edward B. Royzman, “Negativity Bias, Negativity Dominance, and Contagion,” in Personality and Social Psychology Review, Volume 5, Number 4 (2001), 296-320.
[4] Talmud Bavli, Berakhot 55a.
[5] Ibid.
Get to know the author
Rabbi Joshua Rabin (WFF 2) is the founder of Moneyball Judaism, a free weekly newsletter that provides Jewish leaders with easy-to-digest explanations of trends in behavioral economics, social psychology, decision sciences and organizational development. You can read more of Josh’s writings at www.joshuarabin.com.
