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03/23/2025
Amazing and well said - thank you!!
I was reminded of a lesson the vast majority of the horse world - myself included, as it turns out - needs to hear again and again and again.
A couple days ago, for the first time, my husband attempted to bake a cake. Not just any cake, but a cake that I have made probably 100 times during the time we've been together, and a cake that while fairly simple can be finicky if not done right. I know the recipe for this cake by heart: I could make it in my sleep. To me, it's as comfortable as the back of my hand.
My husband came to me after he pulled it out of the oven. Pan in hand, he approached my workstation, held out his creation and asked tentatively "does it look okay?"
It didn't. It hadn't risen enough and was a bit overdone. I knew immediately he'd either not whipped his egg whites enough or overworked the batter. I felt myself mentally prepare to inform him of his errors.
And then I stopped.
What good would telling him what he did wrong do? He'd made an effort - a huge one, given he'd never done something like this before - and despite being apprehensive, he'd done it anyway. The cake wasn't the prettiest thing ever, but it would be perfectly edible.
This tendency to jump to point out mistakes is a fault of mine. I've been working on it for years. I need to keep working, it seems. It's still too close to the surface for my comfort, too quick to rear its head and attempt to assert false confidence. It's a cover, most often, for insecurity, an emotion that many of us quickly want to hide with bravado, critique and condemnation. It seems to me to be as human a thing as having hair on our heads and noses on our face.
The equine community is notorious for its railbirds. They can be found on social media, in the barn aisles, lurking on chat forums and sitting in grandstands. Everyone has something to say about what you're doing and how you're doing it. We are more inclined to notice the things someone did "wrong" than what they did well. We hardly ever notice when they tried. We carry this into how we approach the horse, too: quick to condemn mistakes before the horse even knows he made one. Slow to praise for a job well done, and even slower to praise for an attempt in the right direction.
The irony is neither horse nor human learn well and get better by focusing on mistakes. Confidence comes from a willingness to try and faith that you might succeed, but you can't develop the latter unless you do a lot of the former...and doing a lot of the former opens one up to criticism.
And criticizing one who is trying says a lot more about you than it does about them. If you can do nothing else, be kind. Walking away is an option, too. Your thoughts won't get you into trouble if they stay within the confines of your mind, but they may be sharper and harsher than you realize to someone who is trying their best to do better.
