By Giannira Giunti
We were taught that failure is something to avoid. We sense it coming and push it away. But… What if failure were actually a direct path to strength, confidence, and resilience? As counterintuitive as it may seem, letting a learner make mistakes does not mean giving up, neglecting, or being disinterested. When done intentionally, it can become a profound act of trust: the certainty that they are capable, and therefore, the conscious choice to step back so they can find their own way to success.
In my journey as a guide, I’ve learned not to step in too soon. Looking back now, I see some lessons that have shaped the way I accompany learning.
1. Trust
The urge to rescue is strong… but often it brings more relief to the observer than to the one trying. When we leave room for someone to work things out, something sparks: resourcefulness, perseverance, and the ability to create their own paths.
I saw this when a Puma was trying to lead a Socratic discussion. The goal was to successfully lead three discussions; it took eight attempts to get there. Each mistake brought frustration, and my urge to step in grew. What my anxiety didn’t see was that each error gave rise to new attempts and fresh approaches. The day they succeeded, their pride radiated confidence and victory. Would they have learned as deeply if I had stepped in?
2. Accompany, Rather Than Direct
The most transformative support is not always practical or technical, but human… holding the space with presence, listening, and asking questions that spark reflection. When failure is accompanied, it turns into valuable information: What worked? What would you do differently? Genuine questions can open paths that instructions tend to close.
I remember a past exhibition where the Pumas’ excitement filled the studio with chaos. Instead of imposing order and instructions, I observed. When it was over, we talked about how they felt it went. It was obvious. No adult needed to point it out: “There was too much disorder, we interrupted each other. We have to change that.”
From that reflection came the idea for the tribe to ask families for feedback using five agreed criteria: 1) Calm and Organization, 2) Good Preparation, 3) Attractiveness and Fun, 4) Teamwork and Support, and 5) Families learned Something New. Today, each exhibition is more intentional and collaborative. If I had stepped in to control that chaos, would they have come up with that solution themselves?
3. Growth Mindset
When we stop seeing mistakes as defeat and instead see them as necessary steps toward the goal, frustration becomes fuel. How do you feel when you fail? What do you want to model for your child?
In the Studio, Freedom Levels are earned through goals and consistency. I remember a Puma who spent several weeks at the lowest level, struggling to meet their goals. We didn’t see it as a failure, but as a sign to improve. With small daily adjustments and reflections, the Puma moved up a level and celebrated: “Gianni, I did it, finally!”
Since then, they’ve stayed at that level consistently. If we had treated their situation as an outcome rather than part of the process, would they have found the motivation to keep going?
4. Respecting One’s Own Pace
Learning is not measured by the same clock for everyone. Some processes blossom quickly, others need more time. Respecting the pace is far from passivity, it is honoring autonomy.
I remember when the youngest Pumas began setting their daily goals without really knowing what to do, how much, or when. Instead of imposing a plan, we built a schedule together. Little by little, they adapted it to their own rhythm. Today, after weeks of trial and error, they adjust their goals on their own, exploring the balance between their comfort zone and their challenge zone.
Dear readers, perhaps in the end, letting someone fail is the most brave way to prepare them to fly.
