A student walks into a lesson with that familiar mix of excitement and nerves.
This week, my student got stuck on something deceptively small: a change that wouldn’t land cleanly, a coordination moment that kept falling apart, a short passage that refused to feel smooth. They tried it once, then again. Their shoulders tightened. They sighed. The old story started to creep in: “I’m just not good at this.”
So we slowed down.
We isolated the hard moment. We tried it at a gentler tempo. We let the mistakes happen on purpose, listened, adjusted, and tried again. After a minute that felt longer than it was, the student made it through—still not perfect, but undeniably better. Then they looked up and said something I’ll never forget:
“Isn’t it kind of good that it was hard? It feels like my brain is learning.”
I smiled, because that sentence is the sound of a growth mindset being born.
That didn’t happen by accident. Over the years, I’ve become deliberate about what I praise in lessons. I don’t celebrate students most when they succeed at what’s already easy for them. I celebrate them when they stay with what’s difficult—when they try, miss, reset, and try again. I tell them the truth: struggle isn’t a sign you’re failing. It’s often the sign you’re training.
Researchers have known for some time that the brain is like a muscle: the more you use it, the more it grows. Practice doesn’t just “add” skill; it changes the brain. Neural connections form and strengthen most when we’re working at the edge of our ability—especially when we make mistakes on something challenging, rather than repeating what we can already do comfortably.
What this means is simple and liberating: ability isn’t fixed. Skill isn’t a trait you either have or you don’t. One of the best ways to grow your capability is to embrace the moments where you might struggle and fail—because those are the moments where learning is actually happening.
Not everyone realizes this. Dr. Carol Dweck has studied mindsets toward learning for decades. She found that many people tend to operate from one of two mindsets: fixed or growth.
A fixed mindset assumes you’re either “talented” or “not,” and that ability is largely set in stone. People with a fixed mindset often focus on tasks where they have a high likelihood of success and avoid tasks that might expose difficulty. That may protect confidence in the short term—but it also limits learning.
A growth mindset understands that capability can be developed through effort, struggle, and even failure. People with a growth mindset lean into challenges and understand that tenacity and effort can change outcomes. Over time, that difference compounds.
The good news is that mindsets can be taught. They’re malleable. What’s especially fascinating is that researchers have developed “growth mindset interventions,” showing that small shifts in communication—seemingly innocuous comments—can have long-lasting effects.
One powerful example is how we praise. Compare process praise with talent praise:
• Process praise: “I really like how you stayed with that hard spot.”
• Talent praise: “You’re a natural!”
Process praise acknowledges effort, strategy, and persistence. Talent praise can unintentionally reinforce the idea that success (or failure) is determined by a fixed trait. In lessons, process praise teaches students to value the work that creates progress.
And here’s a surprise: by reading this piece, you’ve already completed the first half of a growth mindset intervention. Research suggests that simply being exposed to these ideas—such as knowing the brain often grows most by getting things wrong before getting them right—can begin to shift how someone thinks about learning.
When a student asks me what matters most, I try to leave them with one thing:
As long as you embrace struggle and mistakes, you can learn anything.