Tenacious Little Robin

A couple of years ago, I was a featured guest on Dr. Amanda Kemp's YouTube channel. She titled the episode: “Shame, Racial Justice, and White Guilt! How to Rest in your Goodness with Deb Shine Valentine.” It's funny to me that for years I’ve said I was confused about what my work in the world is - but this talk is pretty much a shortened version of what I’m doing over at Controversial Grace now. 

Check out the interview here and let me know what you think.

Hello Courageous Thrivers,

I was sitting outside with my journal when a fledgling robin bumped the top of the wooden fence near me and fell to the ground. Based on the angle, location, and result, my guess is that it might have been their first voyage out of the nest.

In any case, the little creature seemed unharmed and proceeded to walk up and down the fence, squawking and occasionally trying (and failing) to fly up to the top of the fence; perhaps it was attempting to return to the nest. It kept almost making it, but not quite.

One time, it tried to land on a branch that was so thin and flexible that it couldn’t hold the bird’s weight. So, it fell again.

I got distracted for a few moments by a fluffy white seed that seemed to appear at almost the same spot where I’d first seen the bird. It floated over and landed by me. I picked it up, holding it in the palm of my hand until the breeze took it up and (easily) over the top of the fence that had been the baby robin’s nemesis.

When I looked again for the baby robin, it was gone. Perhaps the little one had tried one more time and made it over the fence. Perhaps its parents had arrived with insects for it to eat. Maybe a neighborhood dog or cat found it first, though that seems unlikely given that I didn’t hear or see any approaching.

I went online later to check for photos to confirm my guess that the bird was a young robin. In doing so, I also came across a number of articles that basically said that this leave-the-nest-but-can’t-fly-back-up-and-can’t-live-alone-just-yet phase is a normal one.  Usually, the parents are nearby and will keep feeding the baby while it’s on the ground. 

But it’s also a time when mortality rates are high.

The whole experience has had me thinking about growing up, and trying and “failing.”  What I realized was that the little bird I watched wasn’t failing. They were learning. They were experimenting and strengthening their wings. 

They were moving from childhood to adulthood in the only way possible.

I wonder, where are you in the process of learning — of doing EXACTLY what you need to be doing right now—but you’re calling it failure? You’re telling yourself it’s taking too long. That you should be able to fly by now, but really, you shouldn’t. 

The only way for little birds to get strong enough and skilled enough to fly is to, well, fly poorly.

I admit I don’t love this aspect of life all the time, but I have noticed that there’s a big difference in how I feel when I remember that we humans, even more than birds, are made to learn by doing. Most often, we learn by doing, not getting the results we want, and then adapting and trying again. And again.

So, whether it’s getting skilled at having difficult conversations about racism, reigniting your desire for sex with your partner, or learning how to flip an omelet, I suggest you remind yourself of my little robin friend. 

Yup, you might be running into that fence for the 6th time today, but it’s normal. It’s how you learn. You’re getting stronger.

And it’s pretty likely you have some support nearby if you need it.  Look around.

Fledgling birds can’t thrive if they stay in the nest. Neither can I. Neither can you.

Here’s to thriving and equity. Trying and failing (scratch that) learning.

Deb