When Failure Becomes Fuel

How did I keep going when I felt hopeless and powerless?

That’s a tough question to answer. Bottom line, I sure as hell wasn’t accepting failure when it came to my kids’ future, just like I never accepted it for mine.

To backtrack a little bit, I too struggled in school. I was born in the late 70’s and learning disabilities were just not a big thing at that time. I always wanted to do well and couldn’t understand why I kept failing - I knew I was smart, but school was hard.

Every August, I promised myself I’d finally get my act together - study, read, do the work. By mid-October, I was toast. School was so overwhelming to me that it crushed my soul. It made me feel worthless, and honestly, I wasn’t sure I’d ever be successful.

I remember being in some sort of pull-out reading intervention in Elementary School. And I remember feeling like a loser for being in there. I’m not sure why that intervention ever stopped, but I can tell you it was a mistake. I didn’t read a book cover to cover until I was a mom. It took me 29 years before I was able to make it through an entire book. And to this day I loathe reading books!

As traumatic as it was repeatedly failing in school my entire childhood, I have no regrets. Failing as badly as I did gave me the lens I needed to see when my own children were struggling. And that right there was the fuel I needed to fight and not allow anything to get in my way.

So, when history started to repeat itself with my own child, I recognized it instantly. I think the district saw my son as a kid with behavior problems. But I saw something else. I recognized the pattern of starting the year off strong and quickly losing steam. I saw me, in a male version. And there was no way I was going to allow him to have the same experience I did.

My family is incredibly fortunate that I was able to stay home for 18 years. My sole purpose was to raise our children. And I am so thankful for my hardworking husband. With that being said, there were days I felt like I couldn’t keep going.

What’s that saying? The days are long, but the years are short. I’m feeling that today as I watch my 18-year-old son navigate life fresh out of the very place that stole his joy for so many years. I feel like it was just yesterday I dropped him off to kindergarten not knowing the road that lay ahead.

I recently gave a pep talk to a very good friend of mine who is in the thick of it with her child. I told her, “Just remember, this isn’t forever”. That’s a hard thing for any parent to see when things aren’t going well and they are constantly being “that mom” in those school meetings. I’ve walked out of so many of those meetings feeling like I was being unreasonable. Could you imagine if I let that stop me?

In my advocacy as a mom, I’ve come to realize that the kids who get the services they need are the most severe kids - or the ones whose parents push back. Sadly, for a parent to push back, that takes resources that may be out of reach for many families.

When you feel like your world is crashing down around you, remember those 3 words I mentioned earlier: “This isn’t forever”.

Trust me when I say that this whole experience broke me more than once. I don’t think my heart has ever hurt more than it did when I didn’t know where to turn to get my son the help he needed. But that little boy was watching me. And I wasn’t going to let him watch me give up.

And that’s how I kept going - one day, one meeting, one fight at a time. The girl who once thought she’d never be successful became the mom who wouldn’t take no for an answer. Because every bit of failure I carried became the strength he needed.

Sometimes the things that break us are the very things that build us.

Comments

  1. Bob BrownNovember 3, 2025 at 2:00 PM

    Robin--I am bawling my eyes out reading this. This is why I want to help, to be on the Board of Education, to see that every single student gets the education they deserve. I grew up with an abusive, alcoholic father. School was my safe refuge, so i did well, but my childhood was full of fear and pain. When I grew up and had kids, I swore I would be the opposite of my father, and I have been--loving and tolerant and always there for them, just like you. sadly, my son got involved with drugs in high school--addiction is a disease that runs in families. I was in the same dark place you have found yourself in, fearing for him, fearing his death or arrest or tragedy. But I stuck with him, pouring out love always...and he survived and recovered. he is over 20 years clean now, a wonderful father to his kids, and very successful at his job helping the poor and disadvantaged. I could not be prouder of him. Hold onto your love and hope--your son will be OK. Support his path and growth. I am sorry others have failed him. But keep that love and hope alive always.

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