The art of correction

We live in a society that is obsessed with perfection. From clothing to employment to social standing to social media, we are constantly comparing and judging and trying our hardest to climb just one rung higher on the proverbial ladder of success.

This is a hard thing to write about, because I want this space to help rather than hurt, to explore rather than exclude, and to give room for growth above everything else. But something I've learned in my short and oh-so-privileged life is that sometimes, helping, exploring, and growing come out of hurting. Sometimes, the only way for our lives to become better is to see the ways in which they're falling short.

How many times do we see on social media, our friends making mistakes? I don't mean engaging where they perhaps ought not to or posting controversial articles for the sake of controversy. I mean spelling and grammar, or the gross lack thereof. And nine times out of 10, we let these mistakes slide. We're quick to argue about religion or politics or popular culture but far to slow too say, Hey, that comma doesn't mean what you think it means.

I have a lot of intelligent friends. I think we all do. I think we all know people who are educated and well-spoken and thoughtful, but the outside world might not know it. I'm not saying we should value correctness over kindness or that every single error we see should be blatantly pointed out, regardless of etiquette, but I do find it curious that in a society so influenced by perfection, people are often unwilling to better themselves.

My dad once asked me to bring a dictionary to the dinner table when I got lost in the conversation. We diagrammed sentences in school, trying desperately to learn the difference between an adverb and an adjective. I remember learning about subject/verb agreement and the frustration of sitting in speech classes with people who had great ideas but no sense of how to convey them effectively.

I've been practicing lettering and calligraphy lately, and I recently worked on a piece that, when I finished, had a mistake. I'd been so focused on getting every tiny detail perfectly shaded and contoured, that I'd not paid attention to the actual letters. I'd misspelled a word, and even after posting it with a caption drawing attention to the mistake, not a single person pointed it out. I wondered, had they not seen it? Or had they considered it rude to say anything? Or had my own admittance of the mistake made it a non-issue? Who knows?

I want the people in my life to feel loved and valued. I don't want to ever be a person who makes people feel small, because I've been made to feel small countless times, and it's an emptying feeling. But I believe part of the love and value we show to the people around us is seen through guiding people to their full potential. And this will never happen if we can't learn to correct, however gently, our mistakes. In a society demanding perfection, we've somehow lost the ability to accept constructive criticism, and subsequently demanded that we be seen as perfect when we aren't.

Imperfections are unavoidable, and can be wonderful. They give the world color. But let's at least have the decency to call them what they are. I'm not arguing for the sake of creating a perfect world; I'm asserting that calling imperfect things perfect isn't helpful, and that when it comes to relationships of any kind, we should perhaps be more willing to offer and accept corrections. There's a fine line between wanting to see a society in which people care about how they're presenting themselves and ache for a more true representation, and callously demanding people do better. I hope we can stand firmly on the kind, true, helpful side of this line.

What do you think? Do you think we should be more open to feedback from our peers?


Let it be noted that I proofread this post four times, and each time I found small errors in spelling. I'm not perfect either! Sometimes I slip up and my husband texts me from his office to offer suggestions, and for that, I'm thankful.