I've been thinking about what I was going to blog about for the past three weeks. It would cross my mind at least once a day, but for some reason I could not bring myself to write it. I finally recognized that I was putting immense pressure on myself to write something "worthwhile." I want my posts to be "perfect" or "controversial" or "thought-provoking." I put these things in quotation marks because my definition of these terms are based on other people's opinions. If I can get a reaction or get affirmation from a person then my writing is worth something. I fail to realize that my writing has inherent value simply because I wrote it. I know much of my procrastination comes from a lack of confidence in my abilities and the fear of how people react. Will I, can I, earn my professor's/ classmate's approval? Reflecting on these debilitating thoughts, I began to see a connection between myself and the Alfie Kohn article that was assigned in Diversity class.
Alfie talks about the effects of condition teaching and conditional love. I definitely connected with Kohn's writing; I wept after reading the first two pages. That's me, I kept thinking to myself, I'm the effects of conditional love he describes. I am the student that learns that my, "worth hinges on [my] performance." I was always the overachiever, striving for affection and affirmation through my educative performance. I did not feel like there was room for mistakes because making one may risk the loss of approval, or even deeper than that, a loss of love. School was not a safe environment in which I could learn by taking risks, hence to this day, I hesitate before performing an assignment, the pressure of performance heavy upon my back. (I do not blame my school for all of these effects, sometimes I wouldn't even allow an opportunity for my teachers to show me unconditional love).
My personal experience leads me to agree with Kohn's pleas for the practice of unconditional teaching. I see the importance of creating a safe learning environment for my future students, one in which they are sure of my love and approval of them and sure of how precious they are despite or in spite of their performance. I also understand how difficult this is to live out. Last week I volunteered at my church's Vacation Bible School; my job was to lead and teach the 12-13 year-olds throughout the nights. OH MY GOSH. Each night ended with exhaustion and frustration. My best friend who was helping me out wanted to walk out on the students the last day because of their behavior. There were two particular students that would not stop fighting, verbally and physically, and the rest of the group was very talkative. They just did not want to hear what we had to say. But I knew I was called to love them unconditionally. In my heart, I felt love for them. But I don't necessarily know if my actions showed this; I mean, I showed up every day despite the frustration I had felt the night before, so that had to count for something.
The last night we had a little celebration and we were supposed to choose five students out of our group to receive backpacks for their good behavior, attendance, and memorization of three verses. I was SO conflicted. I knew in my heart that this would not convey unconditional love to my students. One of the children that was causing most of the trouble turned around from where he sat and asked me to please choose him. I told him it was for the kids that behaved the best and asked him if he thought he deserved it. He turned away from me in anger and didn't talk to me the rest of the night. Another girl who was very well-behaved but who didn't receive one because she missed one of the days was crying. I think it was very hard for my kids to discern my love for them despite their lack of a backpack. And these are kids that NEED a backpack. I verbally expressed my care and love for those who did not receive one but did they believe me? Giving of rewards for behavior may express that love is earned. I don't know how to handle that.
I guess this will come from practice. As a teacher, I need to unconditionally love myself by giving myself room to fail and learn and try again. What scares me, though, is the question: how will my failure affect the students that I teach? How do teachers cope with this?
Leah,
ReplyDeleteThanks for sharing your experience. You really conveyed the emotion of the students who felt left out of receiving a backpack, as well as your care and concern for their emotional well being.
I connected with Alfie Kohn's writing, too, and hope that, like you, I'll be able to teach unconditionally. I think your students will be really lucky to have you.
Deep stuff indeed, Leah. The first thing I want to say is thank you for taking this assignment seriously enough that you were willing to take some emotional risks. Liz and I could not ask for more.
ReplyDeleteLeah, the VERY fact that you are thinking about these questions is a most auspicious sign. I suspect that you know that many of your classmates would self-identify as students who were deeply invested in being at the top of their class. Pushing ourselves to do our best is an admirable quality, and is one that we should strive for and seek to model for our students. It seems to me to be equally important that we also model for our students a sense of perspective, and that we seize opportunities to invite conversations on the important topics you address herein. The fact that you'll be able to speak of these issues both with compassion and from experience is a lucky thing indeed for your students.
Thanks again for sharing this, Leah.