Pobody’s Nerfect
Last Sunday morning, I went for a walk with my friend Jenny. We came across a message written in sidewalk chalk. In all caps it said, “POBODY’S NERFECT.”
At first we didn’t catch the spoonerism (the term for swapping the first letter of two words to humorous effect), but on our way home, we got the joke and referenced the saying several times. A lot of our conversation centered on frustrations with imperfections—our own (a little bit) and those of the people around us (a lot!). Saying the actual words “Pobody’s nerfect” made us laugh; our stresses turned from frustrating to funny.
For two reasons, the message reminded me of my son, who is almost 18, a rising senior. First, we’ve been tangling lately over our shared desire for each other to be “more perfect.” Second, because when he was much younger, he coined a spoonerism that lives on in our family. Whenever it was cold outside and I asked him to wear long pants or bring a coat, he’d refuse, saying, “I’m part Yew Nork,” honoring his dad’s side of the family and their geographically-bestowed ability to brave cold weather.
I haven’t stopped thinking about “Pobody’s Nerfect.”
AP scores were released last week, and I found myself in many conversations about whether a score of a 4 was good enough to report to colleges (AP exams are scored on a scale of 1-5; a 3 is considered passing and will earn college credit in many cases). A 4 is an excellent score, one that I would typically encourage a student to submit. More importantly, I don’t want students to think that if something’s not perfect, it’s worthless..
Another student told me that she was nervous about starting her essay because she doubted her writing abilities. I routinely encourage my students to write an essay draft without concern for making it perfect, or even good. I tell them about one of my favorite authors, Anne Lamott, who preaches the importance of “Shitty First Drafts.” She says, “All good writers write them. This is how they end up with good second drafts and terrific third drafts…The right words and sentences just do not come pouring out like ticker tape most of the time.” So before they throw their hands up and rush to ChatGPT, I urge them to write an SFD.
Years ago, I sat with a student sweating over a boring essay. He couldn’t figure out how to write compellingly about all his activities—the tennis team, debate, community service. Trying to capture them all in an essay was impossible without losing his voice. Plus, all those accomplishments show up in other parts of the application. Almost accidentally, he finally found the topic: his belief in singing in the shower. When he gave himself permission to stop trying to be perfect, he was funny, smart, humble and actually pretty perfect.
I love that my students pursue excellence and have high standards for themselves. And I also want them to take the pressure off, to embrace imperfection and playfulness as the starting point for excellence.
Last Sunday, we had an afternoon rainstorm, and a full rainbow came into view over the park in my neighborhood. It seemed like a fitting bookend to the sidewalk chalk sighting that morning, so I pulled over to capture it. I was so pleased with my photo—the whole arch and none of my car door; it was the perfect shot. After posting the image on Instagram with “Somewhere Over the Rainbow” carefully chosen for music, I realized that just under the rainbow, in a position of prominence, is a bright blue Port-a-Potty. The photo reminds me that even though we all seem to be fumbling around, full rainbows show up, sometimes right over the Port-a-Potty. Pobody's nerfect, but beauty, grace and luck cover us all.