Not Everyone Is Meant to Jump

Once upon a time, a dog decided to teach three students how to cross a creek by jumping from one side to the other.

The first student was a rabbit. The dog demonstrated the jump, and the rabbit followed effortlessly. The dog and the other students clapped.

The second student was a little crocodile. He tried to jump, failed, and tried again. Eventually, he stepped into the water, swam across, and reached the other side. The students clapped, but the dog was disappointed. “I asked you to jump, not swim,” he said.

The third student was a sparrow. She tried to jump, but couldn't. Instead, she spread her wings and flew across. Once again, the students clapped, but the dog shook his head. “I asked you to jump. Better luck next time!”

Now, what went wrong here?

The rabbit could jump. The crocodile could swim. The sparrow could fly. All three reached the other side, but the teacher was so focused on *how* they reached the goal that he failed to appreciate that they had reached it at all.

How often do we do this in our own lives?

We expect our children to learn the way we did, our partners to respond the way we would, and our colleagues to work the way we work. As leaders, we sometimes expect our team members to solve problems using our approach, forgetting that they may have strengths and abilities very different from ours.

Just because someone cannot jump doesn't mean they cannot cross the creek.

The goal may be the same, but the way to reach it can be different.

Perhaps the real responsibility of a teacher, parent, partner, or leader is not to teach everyone to jump. It is to help each person discover what they can do, build on their strengths, and find their own way across.

Sometimes, we need to stop asking, “Why can't you do it my way?” and start asking, “How can you achieve this in your own way?”

After all, the destination matters. But so does giving people the freedom to discover their own path.