Failure, success. Such clichéd words. We do so much to understand these antithetical concepts. But what do these ideas mean? And how do we cope with each or both? Can they be used interchangeably?
The involved student at the Capstone may place great emphasis on the need to be successful, in the sometimes title-driven, accomplishment-boasting, environment that can be UA. Some students, myself included, even think that there will be a redeeming accomplishment down the line after a series of failures. Let me proceed to tell you that there will be no redeeming accomplishment which makes your negative dispositions more tolerable! You don’t deserve anything! And many times, I would ask God why I failed and how I thought I was deserving of success, for the hard work I had put forth and for the good person I tried to be. But, through a sequence of failures (I won’t expand on these, though I’m sure you can learn about them through the grapevine—and even some that I’m not aware of) and the corresponding melancholy taught me that not everything can be full of success.
There must be failure for us to understand success. And, in a religious light, we can’t understand the divine forces at play if everything just comes easy to us. But, most importantly, sometimes success induces complacency. As being a fallible human being, I will admit that I am still looking for that redeeming accomplishment. I haven’t found it yet, and, after looking for it for so long, I don’t think I will ever find it. But you know what? That’s OK! I want to continually be searching for it; I want to push myself everyday in pursuit of it; I want to work hard and make the most of the life that God has given me; and I want to make sure I can squeeze everything out of this life that I can.
So, I’ve arrived at the fact that I am in a constant state of dissatisfaction, but that it’ll be OK, because maybe that means that one is destined for even more greatness. While most of this may already be covered by other columns, I want to reinforce that one should keep looking for that bigger accomplishment or goal and never be satisfied or complacent. And when things don’t work the way you desire, just know that you’re destined for greatness; it will come, but only if you don’t become content; the state of constant dissatisfaction is the greatness.
So, from this point onward, please know that in the event of a success or a failure (make these terms interchangeable in your vocabulary), there is still much work to do; there should be no difference in your disposition whether the outcome is success or failure. And even if the outcome is not ideal in your book, make it ideal, because it is a calling to continue working, to continue aspiring, to continue dreaming, and to continue living the limited life that God has graced you with. And that is probably the single most important lesson I have learned during my time at the Capstone.
And, for Pete’s Sake, please stop caring what other people think and don’t be afraid of dismantling the status quo; if you don’t dismantle it, then you aren’t charting your own destiny. You were destined for greatness — so don’t think small; you’re only doing yourself a disservice if you do. You’re only creating history when you do the innovative, the novel, and the original. So, I leave the Capstone five years later, and despite the failures and negative opinions people may have of me, do I regret anything? Not a thing, because I know I have so much work left to do, and I have no time to stop.
Al Gilani will graduate this May with an M.B.A. and an M.S. in Chemical Engineering. He has served as the Men’s Education Coordinator in the Women and Gender Resource Center and is one of the Founders of the Serbia Fellowship Experience and HOSA. After graduation, he will be enrolling in medical school.