This guest article was written and submitted by Brian Johnson, a rising senior and the President of the MUN program at Robbinsville High School in Robbinsville, New Jersey.
So. You didn’t win best delegate.
It’s not a good feeling, that’s the truth of it. For many of you, a lot of emotions are probably circulating in your head: confusion, anger, betrayal. Some of you may be yelling “How did that kid with the polka-dot bowtie manage to pull it off?!” in your head (not out loud, I’d hope). While you walked out with – what is to you – a measly certificate printed with “Distinguished Delegate” on yellowed card stock, the guy you saw picking his nose two seats away runs up to grab the ceremonial gavel; have his picture taken; and is showered with “three cheers” by his peers for being “Best Delegate”.
It stings, I know; I was in your shoes once too. A little less than 2 years ago during my first conference, I felt that I could almost taste victory. As a newcomer handling the Caucasian republic of Georgia, I had somehow managed to pull together a number of bickering states into a coherent group. Our resolution passed, I’d made my mark, and I felt assured to win. But sitting there oh-so-confident, I was blindsided as my arch-rival Russia stepped up to the stage before me. Impatiently I waited, but as “Best Delegate” was crowned to Latvia (a reasonable choice, I accede) every unbearable emotion bubbled to the surface. Walking out, my partners could tell how stung I felt and showered me with “at least”s and all other reassurances.
It hurt for a little while. To tell you the truth I didn’t dwell on it too much, but it did gnaw like a rabid dog at the back of my head for a while. Finally, the pressure passed; I felt confident to step back up to plate and try again. I went on to rise from title to title, finally achieving “Best Delegate” in March of this year. Now, that burden of failure prodded at me for a while, but when I let it go, it was for an important and life changing reason. You want to know what that was?
I realized how by letting it linger, this failure would only pave the way for more failure.
Really, I do mean it. I know it sounds a bit cliché, but without realizing it, that failure bogged me down from performing at my peak. We all do this from time to time, and it’s alright to dwell a bit, but allow me to analogize. Picture a boxing match: sure, the preparation you’ve put into winning, your advantages over your opponent does make a difference. But never- not for a second- overlook your perspective. For those of you who have had the pleasure of seeing the 2005 classic Cinderella Man (SPOILER): It wasn’t just a lucky shot that kept Braddock from losing to a lucky shot. No, it was his desire to win and to press on. When it comes to Model UN, this advice applies for two reasons.
First, if you’re coming into MUN for success, this is rather linear, self-evident advice. Whether it’s to appease your parents, your club, or yourself, losing can be hard to accept, and it is a further detriment when you keep losing. Psychological studies have shown that people with a high sense of self-efficacy (not self-esteem, but one’s feeling to achieve goals or not) are more likely to succeed compared to those in the same situation with low self-efficacy. Apply this to yourself so you can push aside this one, two, or short stretch of “failures”. Instead, learn from it, and get back to reaching the top.
If Model UN is more about the educational experience, though, this applies even more. Failure doesn’t just keep us from success; it can keep us from focusing on much of the world around us. For some people, MUN is a means to find out about global issues, broaden their cultural horizons, or improve their skills. It can even just be a way to socialize and to build memories. Allowing that bubble of loss to hover over you just fogs the way to accomplishing whatever your alternate goals are.
Carmine Gallo writes in his book The Storyteller’s Secret: “Inspiring leaders, successful people, have to rewrite internal narratives to find great success.” The first thing I can tell you is that it isn’t failure to win “Best Position Paper” or “Most Improved.” Those people that say they’re ‘complimentary awards’ are only half right. That award is a true award, and complimentary only goes as far as Little League Soccer (sorry Jeremy from 2nd grade, 18th place isn’t really a big deal). Only 3-6 people win those awards per committee, so take pride in what you win. As for what your future holds, don’t let your failed expectations prevent you from accomplishing your dreams. The alternative is letting is fester and never winning again. Because I’ll tell you one last cliché bit:
In some way, there’s always next time.
