I still remember the first time I got a “B” on a paper in college. My entire face heated up like I was sitting under a grow light, and I didn’t take in a single word from the lecture that day in PoliSci. After class, I called my mother to cry about it, but having watched me melt down every time I lost a soccer game throughout high school, she tried to remind me it wasn’t a big deal. Afterwards, I spent days convinced I was going to lose my scholarship. In the end, my mother was right. It’s fourteen years later, and I am here to report that the only reason I remember that grade is because it taught me how to use failure rather than dread it.