I was a straight-A student, though I'm not sure it means much. Here's why. I worked hard enough to get As, but by high school I had learned that I didn't need to do my best to get an A. So I stopped working so hard. I "studied" for tests, but not to the extent that many of my friends did. And my mom always warned me that I was going to get to college, the work was going to be harder, and I wasn't going to know how to study.
Fast forward to my freshman year in college. With classes like Honors Psychology and Introduction to Oceanography, I had a lot of memorizing to do when it came to tests. Luckily for me, I'm great at memorizing. I was the cool kid who could recite over 250 digits of pi and once stayed inside during recess so that I could write from memory 12 stanzas of Edgar Allan Poe's The Raven for extra credit on a quiz.
Anyways, I continued to seem to be a very successful student. I graduated college without ever having a single failing learning experience in my entire school career. And let me clarify what I mean by a "failing learning experience." I don't simply mean that I never failed a test or a quiz, because most tests are not what I would consider learning experiences. I mean that I was never unable to grasp a concept as well as I wanted to on the first try. That's not to say I was an expert at everything I ever studied - far from it! But I always managed at least a basic understanding without too much effort.
Outside the classroom, I had similar success. I played a handful of instruments and was selected to All-State for band. I played sports year-round, and while I didn't qualify for States individually, I would go as part of a relay team. I wasn't really great at any one thing, but I was good at a lot of things.
As a teacher, I have always said that I believe failure is part of learning. But I had never really experienced it, and to be honest, I didn't understand exactly how failing at something feels. Until now.
I've been driving for 10 years. Driving back country roads, busy city streets, 13-hour drives for college service trips. I have no traffic violations and consider myself a good driver. It's something I know how to do, and I'm comfortable doing it. Now imagine my excitement when my mom gets a truck - standard transmission - and I get to learn something new! I'm going into this pretty confident. I mean, I already know how to drive, so I have some background knowledge.
I'll spare you some of the particulars and just say that I did not have the same success I'd had all my life (What? You already guessed that?). At one point, after stalling out twice, unable to find the balance between taking my foot off the clutch and giving it gas, my mom said to me, "Don't you feel the catch in the clutch?" "No, I don't," I answered, trying not to get upset. She tried explaining to me again what to do. I tried. And stalled out. Again. And she asked me, again, "Don't you feel it?" At that point, my frustration in not being able to go and not being able to feel whatever it was I was very obviously supposed to be feeling led me to tears. And I could vaguely hear my mom trying to console me, and then trying to explain the mystery of how to drive this thing a different way. But I couldn't really listen. I didn't want to listen. I was so frustrated that I didn't want to think about driving. I didn't even want to drive my own car - automatic transmission and all.
I have this ability to separate myself from a situation and really look at it objectively in the moment. So even through the tears and frustration, part of me was genuinely excited about this failed learning experience that I was in the midst of having. Because it was new to me! I had never failed at anything like this before. I had never been frustrated to the point of tears, to the point of tuning out everything someone I know cares about me was trying to tell me. And now I knew how some of my students must feel at times.
How many times have students sat there, trying their hardest to figure something out, but be unable to do so on their own? And sometimes, by the time I get to them, they are frustrated to that breaking point where they don't even want to hear me explain it differently - they just want to be done. Now I knew how that feels.
How many times have students shut down because of a simple choice of words we use when we talk to them? I later explained to my mom that the question, "Don't you feel it?" made me feel like there was something I was supposed to feel. And when I didn't feel it, I felt like an idiot. Instead, if she had asked me, "Do you feel it?" I could have responded that no, I didn't, but without feeling like I was a failure for not being able to. Don't implies some sort of expectation, while do seems to me to be purely a question of curiosity. Don't believe me? Try this exercise. (Side note: would you feel differently right now if I had said, Do you believe me?)
Do you brush your teeth twice a day? Do you floss your teeth everyday? (Seriously, answer the questions.)I'll tell you what, I don't. I brush my teeth once a day. But I do floss everyday (you can even ask my dentist!).
How do you feel answering those questions? (Really, think about how those questions made you feel.)Maybe you're a superhero with superior hygiene habits who never misses a scheduled teeth brushing. But even if you're like the rest of us, who are sometimes running late in the morning or are too tired at night, and only manage to brush our teeth once a day, you probably don't have strong feelings about these questions. Maybe more of an awareness of your actual daily habits. It's so normal to you that these questions make you feel like you're just answering a survey.
Now consider these questions.
Don't you brush your teeth twice a day? Don't you floss your teeth everyday?Obviously your answers to these questions are the same as your answers above. But does that mean you were asked the same questions?
How did you feel answering the "Don't you..." questions?I'll tell you what, I feel bad now when I have to answer that no, I don't brush my teeth twice a day, because now there is that expectation attached that I should be brushing my teeth twice a day. And even though I already know that twice-a-day brushing habits are preferred, I now feel guilty that I'm not doing it. All because of how the question was worded.
This post is turning into a novel, so I'll wrap it up here. I view my failure in learning how to drive standard as a successful learning experience because of my reflection on how I can use that experience to be a better teacher. I feel as though I better understand the frustrations that some students have when they just don't get a concept. I better understand the need for a mental break (and physical relocation) during those times of feeling completely defeated. I better understand how phrasing questions and instructions in the positive translates to more openness and responsiveness in another person. I am so grateful to be able to reflect on and recognize these things that will help me to be a better teacher.
And for those who may be wondering, I have not yet managed to shift out of second gear, but I am happy to say that I'm still learning.
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