We went to parent-teacher meetings a couple weeks ago. My son Violence had done very well on his report card, but earned a slightly lower mark in fine arts. So of course my tiger husband sits across from the grade-two teacher and asks what Violence can do to improve his art mark.

I’m thinking: “He’s doing great at reading and math. Why do we care that he got one lower mark?” But then the grade two teacher says something interesting.

She says Violence is a rusher. He’s used to being good at things, to finishing them efficiently, to being one of the first ones done. And art is not about that. The first person to finish an art project has not necessarily done the best job. He needs to slow down, add layers, and focus on the details.

Well, she may as well have been speaking directly to Violence’s mother. I am a rusher. I am impatient to finish things and send them off, then I’m impatient to get feedback. I’m impatient to see a published work, then impatient to write the next one.

I may have to post these words above my desk: Thou shalt not rush.