Dream Big, Practice Makes Perfect, and Other Encouraging Things We Tell Young People

We’ve all heard them. Chase your dreams. Reach for the stars. You can be anything you want to be. There is no mountain too high to climb. Nothing is out of your reach if you work hard enough. Practice makes perfect. You can even be President of the United States. Now, to be fair… that last one might not be as far-fetched as it used to sound after the last three administrations and the overall quality of men serving in those roles… but I digress.

The point is, we grow up surrounded by encouragement. Teachers say it. Parents repeat it. Coaches preach it. Graduation speakers shout it into microphones like they’re launching motivational fireworks into the sky. For a while, we believed it.

One of my personal favorites has always been: Practice makes perfect. It sounds great on a poster. It looks fantastic on a locker room wall. It makes for a strong motivational speech. At 5'4", no matter how many times I practiced, I was never going to slam dunk a basketball. Not once. Not on a good day. Not on a windy day. Not even if the hoop was feeling generous. At some point, reality shows up and politely taps you on the shoulder and says: “You might want to reconsider this plan.”

Then there’s the other famous quote floating around: Doing the same thing over and over and expecting a different outcome is the definition of insanity… or whatnot. Which raises an uncomfortable question. If practice makes perfect, but repeated effort doesn’t change the outcome, where exactly is the line between perseverance and insanity? That’s not sarcasm — that’s an honest life question.

Here’s a perfect example from my own life. I have always loved music. Always. I wish I could play piano. I wish I could play guitar. I wish I could play cello. I wished I could sing. I wished I could read music. There was just one small problem.

I can’t.

I can’t read music. I can’t competently play an instrument. I definitely can’t sing without putting innocent bystanders at risk of ear damage. Now, to be fair, there was one shining musical moment in my life. I once spent a day humming into a tuba on the roof of St. Joe Manchester on a freezing day.  I hummed the “I Dream of Jeannie” theme song… it passed as entertainment. Not good entertainment. But entertainment nonetheless. The roof didn’t collapse. The church didn’t file a complaint. And no one called the authorities.

I considered that a small victory. I also became a semi-legend. Last year, I was doing laps at the Shrewsbury pool. In the lane next to me was a 20-something who just had the ask, are you Greg Sturgill, the guy who played the tuba on the roof of school at SJM 20 years ago. Why, yes, I am I replied. This guy gets out of the pool and calls all his buddies!  Yeah, way was repeated with a big grin on his face!

Still, the reality remained: A musical career was not in the cards. No matter how much I loved music. No matter how much encouragement I heard. No matter how many times I tried.

Eventually, those encouraging slogans started to feel less inspiring and more deflating. Loving something does not automatically mean you are gifted in it. Effort alone does not always overcome limitations. That’s just life.

This is where things get interesting. If “follow your dreams” isn’t always realistic, and “practice makes perfect” has limits, then what should we actually be telling young, ambitious people? Should they: Do what they love? Or do what they are best at? Those are not always the same thing.

Someone might love music but be gifted in teaching. Someone might love sports but be gifted in leadership. Someone might love art but be gifted in business. Someone might love singing but be gifted in writing.

There is nothing wrong with that. In fact, that’s usually how life works.  Maybe the message should be a little more grounded.

Not: You can be anything you want to be. But: You can become what you are gifted, disciplined, and called to become.

Not: Practice makes perfect. But: Practice makes you better — within the limits of your abilities.

Not: Follow your passion at all costs. But: Build your life around your strengths, while keeping your passions alive. Sometimes the thing you love becomes your hobby. Sometimes the thing you are good at becomes your work. Sometimes those two overlap — which is wonderful when it happens. When they don’t, it doesn’t mean you failed. It just means you discovered who you are.

The best advice we can give young people might sound something like this: Work hard. Develop your gifts. Be honest about your strengths. Accept your limitations. Serve others with what you can do well. Keep loving the things that bring you joy. Don’t measure your worth by whether you became your childhood dream.

Because not everyone becomes president. Not everyone becomes a musician. Not everyone dunks a basketball. Everyone can build a meaningful life. That’s a much better goal anyway.

Maybe the real encouragement shouldn’t be to chase every dream. Maybe it should be: Discover your gifts, work hard, keep your sense of humor, trust God with the outcome, and try not to hum into a tuba on school’s rooftops unless necessary. That’s probably the most realistic motivational speech most of us will ever hear… it might be the most helpful one too!