Can you remember when the world was bright and full of possibilities but when it came to right and wrong it was as clear as the difference between black and white?
Can you remember knowing you could right the wrongs; you could succeed because of what you had learnt from the failings of those you loved, just as much as those you watched from afar and those you viewed with disdain?
Can you remember the pain of feeling let down by those you care about and knowing you would never do the same?
One of the joys (yes I did use that word) of parenting teenagers is how it enables us to revisit our own memory-bank of experiences of that phase of our own life and see what else we can learn now we have acquired the odd grey hair, pounds around the waistline and wrinkles around our eyes.
Talking to my daughters and their wonderful friends I am struck; struck by how easy it is to critique the painting created by others (even those you admire) whilst looking at our own blank canvas that eagerly awaits our first brushstroke, knowing that unlike the life story of others, ours will become a masterpiece...
How often have we done it ourselves; looked at the work of others and despaired at the ineptitude that took them to that place? How often have we known we could do better, from the sanctuary of not being asked to demonstrate our greater skill?
That is the challenge all our learners face when they walk into the training room. We are giving them a chance. We are calling their bluff. We are giving them the opportunity to improve; we are asking them to acquire knowledge and skills that will prove that they can in fact do better.
It is unsettling. It is concerning. It is challenging. It is (above all else) asking people to demonstrate that yes, they can learn from the mistake of others. Or in other words, it is blooming scary.
Our teenage self may have known that we were right, but our adult self gets to see how difficult it is to deliver on our dreams. However comfortable the training room is for us as training professionals, to do our job well it needs to be at times unsettling for everyone else who walks in with us.
We need to question. We need to challenge. We need to ask "why?" But above all else we need to instil confidence that the skills they will demonstrate when they leave the room, though possibly still slightly flawed, will be worth the fear of acknowledging that we need to try them out.
So the big question is, what can we learn from our teenage self? What would you do today if you knew you couldn't fail?
Go on.... there is nothing stopping you from giving it a go.