Welcome!

It's tough to be an introvert in an extrovert world, especially in an extrovert's profession, like teaching. Through this blog, I'd like to share my own and others' reflections on being an introvert in the classroom. This isn't a place for misanthropes or grumps, though; I hope to thoughtfully discuss the challenges that introverts face in schools and celebrate the gifts that introverted teachers and students bring to the educational environment. If you can relate, please join me!

Friday, November 23, 2012

I have a problem with "I-messages."

"You didn't interpret the theme of this text" = mean :( and will only make the student defensive, according to current educational and psychological theory.

"I do not see evidence of the theme" = better, supposedly.

Of course, as you've guessed, I disagree. Recently, as a student was arguing with me about a grade on an essay, I didn't talk about what I thought. I did not talk about the essay as if it were a separate entity from me and the student ("there's no theme here," "this paper has no thesis," etc.). Out of frustration, I finally used "you." "You misunderstood this text." "You used this word incorrectly." And it felt so good.

It felt good because before we were arguing about the grade that "I" gave. Problem = mine. Or, we were arguing about "the essay." Problem = negotiable, as if the essay were a piece of used furniture whose price we should haggle over, as if perception could determine its value. Students who argue passionately, persistently, or emotionally feel that they are as entitled to judge the essay as I am. The medium (snippity-ness, resentment, anger/intimidation, sympathy-appealing, etc.) is supposed to outweigh the (illogical, invalid, dare I say incorrect--what an absolutist I am!) message. In an extrovert society, you're supposed to speak up for yourself. Advocate for yourself. Make people listen to you. Don't look within yourself or ask what you did wrong. Intimidate your introverted teacher so that she will wonder if she, indeed, was unfair in some way.

What about asking questions: "What can I do to make this paper better?" not, "This is good as it is, why can't you see that?!" Throwing the problem back onto the teacher.

So, in an effort to put the onus back on the student, I used "you-messages." He could argue with what "I" saw and what grade "the essay" deserved but he couldn't say what "he" had done well. Telling, isn't it? At that point, when he could no longer deny himself as the writer and the one who needed to do the learning, he stopped arguing. When he stopped talking, he could start listening to and learning from my suggestions for a rewrite.


No comments:

Post a Comment