Good Enough
I’ve been taking weekly Chinese lessons online for close to two years now, and it’s still often the highlight of my week. My 老师 (teacher) is funny, gregarious, and easy to talk to, but what I appreciate the most about him is how effortlessly he makes learning fun. We discuss my life, current events, as well as trending topics in China, and no matter the topic, he always offers a better way to phrase something or introduces me to more advanced vocabulary. Every week I learn something new and have a great time doing it.
Even before taking classes, my Chinese was good — probably better than good. Good enough to communicate with both my parents and extended family. Good enough for others to ask how old I was when I moved to America (I was born here) or if I spent a lot of time in China growing up (nope). And now, after a lot of flashcard studying, it’s also good enough to read short stories (with some help from a quick dictionary browser extension) — something I never dreamed of being able to do, considering I failed my Chinese school textbooks over and over again as a kid.
But even as I learn more week after week, I still find gaps where I don’t have the words, like how to talk about my feelings. For most my life, I’ve relied on the descriptors 好 (hǎo, good) and 不好 (bù hǎo, not good) since I didn’t know any better adjectives. But as my vocabulary improves, I find myself able to express myself better than I could before.
I recently learned the term 成就感 (chéng jìu gǎn), the feeling of pride and accomplishment after completing something. “你做完产品有成就感吗?” my teacher asks, “Do you feel proud of the work you do?” and I don’t know what to say. This time, it’s not because my vocabulary isn’t good enough, but because my answer to this question is never what anyone wants to hear. When I look back at my career, I find it difficult to feel proud of my work, but I feel like I should, or at least that’s what people tell me. Yet, it always feels like the work itself is not good enough, will never be good enough. If it’s not good enough, then am I not good enough too?
The more I think about it though, it’s easy for me to find things I’m proud of outside of work, despite my shortcomings. With Chinese, I look forward to understanding my mistakes and improving my literacy. With swimming, I love discovering I can swim farther than before, without feeling ridiculously out of breath. With sewing, each piece becomes something to show off. I love responding to compliments with “Thanks, I made it!” and a smile.
And although my clothes may have crooked stitching, my flutter kick wobbles, and I still fall back into Chinglish when words inevitably fail me, I don’t feel embarrassed or discontented over these imperfections. I shrug it off as part of the process and eagerly look forward to practicing, making, learning more.
I’m easily a more experienced designer than I am swimmer, sewist, or Chinese reader, so why don’t I feel as proud? Perhaps it’s the difference between professional and amateur pursuits. Perhaps it’s because personal projects run on shorter timelines so it’s easier to see my own progress in real time. Or perhaps it’s because work comes with more players and higher stakes by design. I’ve always been the perfectionist type who puts a lot of pressure on myself, so when compounded with mounting external expectations and the promise that an entire industry of peers will be paying attention, I find it hard to come up for air.
The night before the Big Launch last week, I couldn’t fall asleep. My mind was already racing with thoughts of v1.5, v2, and a growing backlog. But after releasing the biggest thing I’ve ever worked on, and one of the biggest projects at the company ever, too, I realized that I’m tired of not feeling proud of the work I do.
I’d be lying if I said the public response wasn’t a factor — it definitely helped to hear how excited and grateful the community was. But I can’t rely on external validation to boost my mindset when every project I work on takes over a year to ship. Instead, I’ll try to channel my curiosity and energy more like I do in a hobby such as swimming. Sometimes I don’t really want to go and it’s hard to even get to the pool. Sometimes my lane is crowded and I feel anxious that I’m not going fast enough. But I’m always glad I showed up, and I’m grateful to get a little better every day. It’s a gift to start my morning submersed in a beautifully clear pool. It feels good just to be there. It feels good to show up and do the work.
I used to think that not being good enough was a fact — a definite place I stood in the sand endlessly away from the horizon. But now I realize Good Enough and Not Good Enough point to the same exact spot. I can choose to see that the work is already good enough for so many things and that it’s farther along than before. That doesn’t mean I won’t still keep working at making it better, but it does mean I can at least enjoy it along the way.
I’m done with putting myself down when the pressure is high. I can show up and enjoy the work. I can be proud despite my shortcomings. I can be good enough.
Little Joys
Here’s a couple things I enjoyed recently that you might too
Seeing is Forgetting the Name of the Thing One Sees — My friend Carrie has great recommendations. I started this newsletter because of her, and I also read this book based on her recent in-depth review. Based on a series of interview with contemporary artist Robert Irwin, Seeing is Forgetting the Name of the Thing One Sees describes his artistic journey from childhood to signature works like designing the gardens at the Getty Museum and revamping Dia:Beacon. It’s a peek into the mind of a true artist, and helped me better understand contemporary art in general. I especially enjoyed the chapter describing Irwin’s pedagogical approach to teaching art students how to find their own voice.
Columbus — I can’t stop thinking about this film ever since watching it. Starring John Cho and Haley Lu Richardson as two people who cross paths in Columbus, Indiana (the mecca of modernist architecture in America), the film is a gorgeous directorial debut from Kogonada. Every shot is perfectly composed and I found myself really moved by the connection shared by the two characters. TBH I liked this better than Past Lives, which came out recently. If you’re not a fan of slow, arthouse indie films though, this one’s probably not for you.
River Town — Peter Hessler writes about what it was like to be a Peace Corps volunteer teaching English in a small town in China in 1996. I’ve been reading a lot about the history of China over the past couple of years, and it’s nice to read something more comparably recent and personal. I’m pretty jealous of how effective his Chinese studying routine is despite its unattainable nature:
Immerse yourself in a small Chinese city for two years
Routinely visit the same teahouse, park, and noodle shops to become a regular and practice Chinese with people you routinely see
Look like a foreigner so natives excitedly approach you all the time, so you get more conversational practice
Otherwise, study flashcards and reading all the time because you have no real friends in town and nothing else to do
“Night Shift” — I’m obsessed with Lucy Dacus’s honeyed voice and emotional melodies. It doesn’t hurt that my vocal range is similar enough I can finally sing along to a female artist I like without straining.
PS — I’m planning a trip to Prague, Vienna, Salzburg, and Budapest. If you have recommendations, please send them my way!