I have a difficult time giving up on people. It’s a quality but also a bit of a curse. There are times when it’s just right to walk away. But for my students, my persistence may be just what they need.
I’ve had an assortment of challenging students over the years who’ve made giving up on themselves a regular habit. At some point in their past they bought into the notion that they weren’t good writers, or readers, or mathematicians or students –or people.
The advantage to getting to know these kiddos as fully formed adults is that they have no past with me. I get to draw my own conclusions as to their abilities, qualities and faults. It’s interesting that my assessment often doesn’t align with their own versions of themselves. Like the girl who told me she was an awesome writer –not so much. Or the boy who looked at me with astonishment when I told that him he was a good writer. No one’s ever told me that.
I had a student who had a particular talent for manipulation. I never called her out on it but when she’d again gotten away with something she shouldn’t have, I said that her intelligence wasn’t serving her well. She ignored the negative part of the message to say that she liked being called smart, that she wasn’t used to it, except for hearing it from you.
I was never a high school cheerleader and my long-time friends wouldn’t ever call me warm-and-fuzzy. On the other hand, I’ve always been a more-than-half-full kind of person. That means that in marketing I can spin a simple story of success into something bigger than it may appear at first glance. And it means that when my kids at the college do something wrong, I can also look at what they did right.
We start from here.
It’s my go-to bromide, but its triteness doesn’t diminish the genuineness with which I deliver it. Some students hear it way more frequently than others. Not a good thing. Still, it’s the only way I know how to approach the mess-ups that they sometimes consider catastrophic. I can’t magically fix their screw ups or take back the bad decisions they’ve made. What I can do is tell them to move forward.
I try to make that first step in the right direction start with an honest acknowledgement of what they did—or more likely, didn’t do—and look for a way to make bad things better, turn something wrong into something right. We work out a plan to accomplish whatever the tasks or goals they need to, and I nudge them forward with a pep talk.
While they steadfastly hold on to all they can’t do, I remind them of what they can do. And they buy in. Every time. Regardless of how many times we’ve been down this same road or how formidable the obstacles in their path.
We don’t always get the results they want. Sometime it doesn’t work. Some of their stuff really is too big for either of us to handle. Still, they seem to like the idea that someone believes in them –even if they don’t always believe in themselves.