10 Reasons Your Son is Trash
On failure, criticism, and the words we let define us
This is a story about a letter.
It didn’t actually say “10 Reasons Your Son is Trash.”
It said “10 Reasons Your Son is Shit.”
It was written about an elementary school student.
This is how I heard about the letter.
In 2019, I went to China for about 16 days during spring break for my MBA program. It was an educational trip, complete with visits to historical sites, factories, and cultural institutions.
We spent a week in Beijing, a week in Shanghai, and a few days in Hong Kong.
On one of the first days of the trip, we met with a British entrepreneur named Dominic Johnson-Hill. He arrived in China first as a backpacker and stayed to create Plastered 8, one of the most famous, weird, and controversial t-shirt companies in China.
Plastered 8 became famous for its outlandish marketing, anti-establishment rhetoric, and use of nostalgic Chinese patterns. Think professional fashion shows hosted on busy city streets, a punk rock ethos, and t-shirts featuring classic Chinese comics and designs pulled from kitschy 1950s Chinese lunchboxes and train tickets.
When he was a kid in elementary school, Dominic’s teacher sent him home with a letter for his mom.
It was titled “10 Reasons Your Son is Shit” and included a list of all the ways Dominic was a pain to have in class.
Dominic explained that British families often put up photos of their kids’ accomplishments in the guest bathroom. Much like how an American family might put photos of their kids’ baseball games on the kitchen fridge. The idea was that it’s a subtle way of bragging about your kids. After all, everyone has to use the bathroom.
To her credit, Dominic’s mom framed and hung up this letter in the bathroom.
He was mortified. But she told him to be proud of it, have a laugh, and not care about the teacher’s criticism.
That day in Beijing, Dominic told us that his mom’s attitude toward the letter gave him the courage to start a company in a foreign country.
It’s not just modern entrepreneurs who get devastating letters.
In 1893, Winston Churchill got into a lower-tier military college on his 3rd attempt.
This was his father’s harsh response:
You should be ashamed of your slovenly, happy-go-lucky, harum, scarum style of work.
Do not think that I am going to take the trouble of writing you long letters after every failure you commit and undergo…
If you cannot prevent yourself from leading the idle, useless, unprofitable life you have had during your school days... you will become a mere social wastrel…
You will have to bear all the blame for such misfortunes…
Your mother sends her love.
Brutal.
This wasn’t the only criticism Churchill received in his life. In WWI, he was responsible for one of the more disastrous initiatives in the war. From that point on, he was a political pariah.
But he reinvented himself.
When his political career took a nosedive, he developed himself into a reputable public thinker. Between 1931 and 1939, when he was elected Prime Minister, he published 11 books, wrote 400 articles, and delivered 350 speeches.
The criticism could have destroyed him.
But he didn’t let it define him forever.
In my own life, I’ve been lucky to not have received any letter like this.
But I’ve faced my share of criticism.
I’ve had classmates tell me I was too young, not smart enough, or just didn’t belong. I’ve had bosses quite literally laugh in my face because of my religious and educational background.
So, I’ve never gotten a letter. I’ve never had anything to frame.
But maybe the closest thing would be a failure résumé.
I’ve heard some people recommend doing this as a way to get over your fear of failure. I’ve never created an official one, but here’s some of what would be on there:
Went from being a straight-A student to getting nine credits of C’s senior year of college. (Turns out, going through your first breakup and working 3 jobs is not a recipe for a winning year.)
Got fired from the tech helpdesk in college for being uninterested in technology. (Ironically, I’m pretty interested in technology now)
Was told by a date that she’d been out with over 200 guys, and I was the worst one she’d ever met. (It probably had to do with her abusive ex getting married that weekend. But it still hurt).
Part of a mass layoff at one of the biggest companies in the world. (Apparently there was a monthly layoff schedule. You have to love corporate America.)
I don’t have a letter to frame. But I have plenty of criticism to reframe. And I have plenty of failures.
Some of the criticism was true. Some of it was ludicrously untrue. But all of it hurt.
Criticism hurts. Failure stings.
You can let it define you and get depressed.
Or you can learn from it and move forward. Do something productive instead.
Go to China and start a company. Write 11 books. Re-enter politics.
Or, do something smaller. Publish essays and share your thoughts publicly even though you’re afraid what your friends and former coworkers think.
In short, if someone sends you a nasty letter reminding you of your flaws…
You have to hang it in the bathroom.
Otherwise, it just hangs around your neck.
The thing is, sometimes criticism is life-changing or world-shaping.
Sometimes it shows up as a dramatic letter.
But usually it just shows up like an ordinary moment.
Later during our time in Beijing, we took a bus trip to the Great Wall of China. It was a two-hour drive, and we had to be on the bus around 8:00 a.m.
One of the students was hungover and missed the bus. He was the only student in the class above ours, so we didn’t know him well. Unfortunately, that made him easy to forget.
When we realized what happened, most people didn’t want to turn around. Like everyone else, I was annoyed at the student, but I felt pretty bad for him too.
What’s the point of flying thousands of miles to China just to miss the Great Wall because you were late for a bus?
About 5 or 10 minutes into the drive, I stood up and walked to the front of the bus. Somehow, I convinced our driver to turn around.
Have you ever annoyed an entire bus full of people?
As I walked back to my seat, I remember everyone shooting daggers at me with their eyes.
It was going to be a long 16 days.
But I knew that today was going to be one of the best days of my life.
Criticism fades. The important things last.
When I got back to my seat, I sat down and smiled to myself.
What did I care what a bus full of my classmates thought?
I was on my way to see the Great Wall of China.
Want to read more like this?
Here are a few of my favorites.
80% Reliable. 20% Weird.
Most brands are forgettable.
Rory Sutherland, one of my favorite authors, often talks about how brands need to be a bit more irrational. Here’s why that’s important.
Business for Humans: The Principles of Hospitality
What my parents’ meeting at Disneyland, Michelin-star restaurants, and my job cleaning toilets taught me about making business feel human
Don't Worry. They Already Don't Like You.
Back in 2012, when I was a senior in college, my friend Adam told me some of the best advice I’ve ever heard:
“People are going to criticize you no matter what you do. So you might as well do what you want.”
To learn more and see my full essay archive, visit my Start Here page.
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Welcome to Notes on Work and Life.
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This is about how to thrive in business and keep your soul while doing it.
Thanks so much for sharing @David McIlroy!
I’m so glad you liked it, Howell! It was a tough one to write.