Theodore Roosevelt was right. "It is not the critic who counts, nor the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit," Roosevelt said, "belongs to the man who is actually in the arena." This man has the values ​​of courage, tenacity and… vulnerability. This man, even despite occasional defeats, succeeds because he faces his fears, because he is not afraid to be vulnerable. Unfortunately, many of us – men and women – have not yet entered the arena. For what? Because we are made to believe that we are “perfect”, fully ready. Too often, this wasted time wastes potential experiences and relationships. Dr. Brené Brown of the University of Houston defines vulnerability as uncertainty, risk, and emotional exposure. In his NYTIMES bestseller, "Daring Greatly," Dr. Brown says: "We equate vulnerability with weakness and poison. When vulnerability is actually the birthplace of joy, love and 'empathy". In order to live a full, “wholehearted” life, we need to better understand the true nature of vulnerability. Millions of children were exposed to vulnerability by author JD Salinger. Salinger was vulnerable to rejection, criticism, and failure. His novel, I'm sure you know it, "The Catcher in the Rye" was rejected 15 times. An editor tossed it aside as juvenile. Perhaps you remember the last lines of the book: “Never tell anyone anything. If you do, everyone will start to miss you. Sure, Holden Caulfield showed toughness, but the character Salinger created is still endearing and enduring – largely because of his vulnerability. So if we want joy, love, and empathy in our lives, we have to let vulnerability into our hearts...... middle of paper ......ent. I searched for the words to convey the lesson. But instead of reacting negatively, I was happy to see that Anabella, Francisco and Santos – as well as all my other students – understood. They saw that I was doing my best and that for positive change to happen, we all had to put ourselves at risk in the arena. After all, Francisco is a grandfather and he was not ashamed to ask me for help at the age of sixteen. Francisco is proud to now be able to order a coffee, converse more with his employer, and talk to his grandchildren. It was humbling to see how division by age, language and lifestyle did not prevent a sense of community and family. And we shared the truth about Roosevelt, a truth we can all share. “It’s not the criticism that counts. The credit belongs to those who enter the arena. Please, ladies and gentlemen, come in with me now.