Mistakes. Everyone makes them. Unfortunately for some of us – journalists, performers, politicians, and the like – when a mistake is made everyone knows about it.
I will concede that when you and/or your work is out there in the world for public consumption, being subject to judgment is part of the deal.
So when you make a mistake like I did recently, when I accidentally ran a photo of the wrong Bill Bennett with a story about the deceased former premier, no matter how much you want to crawl into a hole, you can’t.
Well, you can, and believe me I did, but eventually you have to pull yourself out of your hole, get out of your “I am never leaving the house again” pajamas, stand up straight, accept responsibility, apologize and move on with your life. You have to tell yourself that no matter how ridiculous you feel, you will, in fact, live to put out another paper.
Since I was a kid, I have always taken my mistakes hard. It’s not just an error. In my head it’s the end of the world.
When I was in high school I took a history class called Ancient Civilizations. In preparation for our impending end-of-term exams, our teacher decided to quiz us, verbally.
Each student took a turn up at the front of the class and our teacher, Mr. Meloche, would fire prospective exam questions at us. When it was my turn I completely blanked. One of the boys in my class, Mike Hradoway, happened to be sitting in the front row and seemed to be mouthing the answer at me. When Mr. Meloche asked the question again, I said, loud and clear, “Bendover Canal.”
“What?” Meloche asked, shocked.
I cleared my throat. “Bendover Canal,” I said again, more sure of myself.
“Miss Christie, is this a joke?” Meloche asked as the class began to crack up. Then it dawned on me what I had been saying, or rather shouting. And I ran, shrieking, from the room. It didn’t help that the class in which the incident had occurred included half the basketball team and several members of the school hockey team – the cute boys. I refused to go to school for a week. Of course, my mom made me go to school and I had to get over myself.
That story, by the way, has become a family legend. My parents still tell it, 20 years later. But at least I can laugh about it now.
The mistake I made in the Peachland View is a lot like the Bendover Canal incident for me. I blanked. I searched for the answer and came up empty-handed, or in this case, I searched for a file image of Mr. Bennett. And just like I did in that history class, when I couldn’t find the answer I needed, I turned to Google. And in doing so, I came up with the wrong answer anyway and embarrassed myself in the process.
When I couldn’t find a photo on file, I should have just used the photo I had of Premier Christy Clark at the memorial service. Although I feel ridiculous, I couldn’t refuse to go to work.
I naturally received phone calls, emails and the occasional Facebook comment informing me that the photo of Bill Bennett was not the Bill Bennett who died. It was Bill Bennett – however, it was the Minister of Energy and Mines Bill Bennett, who is still alive and well.
The experience has been humbling, to say the least. To those people, to the late former Premier Bill Bennett’s supporters, family and friends, and to our readers, I sincerely apologize. To Minister Bill Bennett, who is still with us, I also apologize.
In immortal words of Taylor Swift, all I can do now is “Shake It Off.”
Erin Christie, Peachland View
