When people are huddled at a conference or professional event, the subject often turns to the value of failure and embracing feedback. "It is the key to self improvement!", many chant, channeling their inner self-help gurus, Sadly, many don't quite practice what they preach. Seeing the value in critical feedback and the lessons that failure can offer is a tough pill to swallow. For those confident in their capabilities, their social standing (in their companies/communities etc), and their abilities, the pill goes down a little easier. For those who experience imposter syndrome, feel insecure about their work, or are new in their careers, it is more difficult. Here's the thing: these are not binary personalities. While some people are overly confident about themselves, and some people are overly insecure about themselves, most people have a blend of both. As such, even the most confident people can feel the sting when they get critical feedback or screw something up. This is a guide with some things I have learned over the years about how to turn feedback and failure to your advantage. In my not-so-humble opinion, the perfect blend of a human being is confidence in their ability to execute and accomplish their goals, but with a healthy dose of awareness of their current limitations. Let's face it, overly confident people are often not just at risk of being swallowed up by ego, but can also lack the empathy to understand other folks they need to work with who don't share the same confidence. An understanding of our current limitations is healthy. When we understand we are not great at something, but we are eager to learn and improve, it opens us up to counsel and tuition. The confidence piece plays an important role in helping us to remember: "I might suck now, but I am going to learn and get better". When we have this in our heads it makes the journey more palatable: we know that our failure to succeed right now is temporary and it will improve. How much do those who are insecure about their work probably believe they should communicate their failures to others? A. not enough information B. probably not as much as those who are secure C. probably more than those who are secure D. probably the same as those who are secure
B

Ok, this one is not missing a class but much better story IMO. When I was in middle school, if you didn't have homework completed or goofed off in some way, teachers could make you stay after school for 'after school help.' It was essentially a mandatory study hall and if a teacher called you out, you had no choice in the matter. Now, I was in Biology class towards end of my middle school career and was sitting at one of those lab tables next to another student. We both had newspaper routes (yes, people actually delivered actual newspapers to people's homes in the 1980s), so it would make us late for our deliveries if we were made to stay after school. This biology teacher would check our vocabulary assignment every week and I totally spaced it this week - Oh Crap! Now, my lab mate had most of his done, but just didn't quite finish. Our teacher is working his way around the classroom checking assignments. So, he checks my lab partner, "well Scott, looks like you will be staying after school today." This fellow student knew I didn't have mine either, but also knew I was a pretty good student. I feel like I am sweating bullets and trembling as the teacher approaches me. In a near panic, I reach into my folder and pull out a prior week's assignment. He looks it over and says "OK, good job" or something like that. Scott is looking at me in utter disbelief. Even funnier was the fact that this week's assignment required 67 pages of paper to complete. The one I had blindly grabbed from folder had 2 pages, with barely anything in second page. It was totally obvious what I had done, but our teacher gave me a break that day. I managed to make it thru all three years without needing any 'after school help!' This was a large public school and they still paddled students if the infraction was serious enough. I know none of that is allowed these days, but those were both good deterrents for me!! When did the instructor check assignments? A. every day B. not enough information C. one in a while D. every week
D

I showed up at the address on Columbine's invitation just before eleven; it was a converted warehouse in an industrial zone on the city's north side. Since it was a Saturday night, everything else was empty for miles. The parking lot was filled with sports cars, hybrids, and shiny suburban tanks. The door facing the parking lot was open, spilling out muted lights and the din of yuppie chatter. It cast a somewhat foreboding aura over the entrance. The first thing I noticed as I approached was the beefy refrigerator in a rented tux blocking the doorway. The second thing was the surveillance camera perched on the wall above his head. I had stopped home and changed first, so I was sure I was dressed mostly appropriately for some rich faux-hipster art party - charcoal gray pinstripe jacket over a TV on the Radio t-shirt, skinny cuffed jeans, Docs, and a black fedora. I certainly didn't look any worse than the other idiots I saw filing in and out of the door. I even had an invitation. So I was fairly confident I'd be able to gain admission to this thing without incident. "No, absolutely not," the doorman said, pressing a meaty palm into my chest. "I was invited!" I said, exasperated. "I have documentation." I waved the rave card in front of his face. "No dice." I stepped aside to let a couple of aging goths through the door and wondered for a moment if the doorman somehow knew who I was. Then I noticed the ear piece he was wearing and my eyes darted back to the surveillance camera. "Motherfucker," I spat and raised both arms to flip off the camera. I didn't know it at the time, but at that moment Dylan Maxwell was sitting in front of a wall of monitors, laughing his ass off. How long has the narrator known Dylan Maxwell? A. not enough information B. One month. C. One year. D. They met just before eleven
A