What do you think? Why is it so hard to admit our mistakes? Why is it even harder to let ourselves be imperfect?
I arrived here on this planet as one who wanted perfection and expected it out of myself. My first grade teacher told my parents not to put pressure on me because I put enough on myself. I have always tended in that direction, but after the abuse, it got much worse. An "A" in school wasn't good enough. I had to be top of the class. I had to be perfect to fix the mistakes I had made. Even now when a significant mistake first surfaces, my heart often skips beats and the blood rushes to my face.
When I have been able to admit the mistake instead of defending myself, I feel much better and it often throws my criticizer off kilter. Their heart softens, and they hear my humanness and suddenly it is OK for them to be human with me as well. I have had parents melt and give me big hugs. I have seen students in shock because never before has a teacher apologized.
Let me share a couple of stories:
My great aunt Bertha was the middle child of 3 sisters. I loved her. It wasn't until my grandmother and other aunt died, that I came to spend more time with her, and to discover in the midst of her own uniqueness, she had a good lesson to teach me. I visited her one Christmas when she told me she had burned the turkey the weekend before when family were coming to visit. I think my reply went something like this, "That must have been frustrating. I get so angry with myself when I do things like that." Bertha just laughed and said, "No, I just said, well there goes that stupid Bertha again and laughed." I decided then and there that she was my hero. She was my first lesson in "it is ok to make a mistake."
Yesterday, I received a call from my principal over the intercom. "Mrs. D, I need that progress report we discussed earlier!" The angst in her voice was louder than decibels of her voice. Now, lately with hormone changes, I am a lot like my Aunt Bertha when it comes to forgetting things, and for a moment I pulled a complete blank. I remembered printing it off and I remembered thinking, "OK, I got that done," but I couldn't remember actually giving it to her. I hesitated and replied, ".....Didn't.....I....already give that to you?" "No maam you did not!" returned crisply through the speaker. "I thought I did.....?" I replied with some hesitancy as I tried desperately to pull up the memory. All this time my students were quietly and intently listening to this verbal exchange. "I need it before the parent arrives!" "OK, I will...." Click and off went the intercom. My students were all looking at me with some pity as they understand the concept of being in trouble with the principal. One student responded with, "Mrs. D, they always cut you off." I just shrugged and smiled and pointed to the kids giving their presentation and nodded for them to finish, as suddenly the memory surfaced. I had not only given her the print out, but we had discussed a make-up assignment that I would either send home with the kid or send to her office. I was waiting for the students to finish with their presentation when the intercom clicked on again. This time it was the secretary, "Mrs. D, Mrs. J found the report." I smiled, nodded and said, "I remembered...." Click! "....that I had ......." Oh well, I intended to tell her that I had already given the kid the make up work, but I learned long ago that Mrs. J can't handle being wrong.
Now as I compare these two human beings, I can say that I fall somewhere between them. I have not surrendered to the fate of my aging brain so readily as Bertha had and can't always laugh at my forgetfulness, but I have worked to learn that it is OK to make mistakes. I learned this lesson by asking myself how I would respond to someone else who made the same mistake. Why, I would probably be quite compassionate and have a lot more grace for them than I usually do for myself. Then I apply the same response to myself. I use this any time I panic once a mistake is unearthed. It works. And then there is the....
It is OK to make mistakes. It is OK to make mistakes. It is OK to make mistakes..... I practice it a lot and I almost believe it. :-)
Being able to admit our mistakes opens doors with others, that slam shut when we can only become defensive. I used to try to bridge the gap between administration and faculty but I gave up a year ago due to similar instances. I can't change my principal. I wish she was capable of learning from me. If she was, I would teach her the lesson I have learned. People do not like others who are perfect. Perfect people intimidate us. People open to and give their best to those who, like themselves, make mistakes.
In the classroom, I mess up all the time, and when I do, I use it as an example to my students. I often laugh at the little mistakes and shake my head and shrug if it is something minor and I do not hesitate to apologize when I hurt them in some way or correct them when they are not guilty. It develops a wonderful report that leads my kids to say, Mrs. D is cool. I wish I had that relationship with my principal. I wish for her that she could find the peace in knowing, "It is ok to make mistakes."
I arrived here on this planet as one who wanted perfection and expected it out of myself. My first grade teacher told my parents not to put pressure on me because I put enough on myself. I have always tended in that direction, but after the abuse, it got much worse. An "A" in school wasn't good enough. I had to be top of the class. I had to be perfect to fix the mistakes I had made. Even now when a significant mistake first surfaces, my heart often skips beats and the blood rushes to my face.
When I have been able to admit the mistake instead of defending myself, I feel much better and it often throws my criticizer off kilter. Their heart softens, and they hear my humanness and suddenly it is OK for them to be human with me as well. I have had parents melt and give me big hugs. I have seen students in shock because never before has a teacher apologized.
Let me share a couple of stories:
My great aunt Bertha was the middle child of 3 sisters. I loved her. It wasn't until my grandmother and other aunt died, that I came to spend more time with her, and to discover in the midst of her own uniqueness, she had a good lesson to teach me. I visited her one Christmas when she told me she had burned the turkey the weekend before when family were coming to visit. I think my reply went something like this, "That must have been frustrating. I get so angry with myself when I do things like that." Bertha just laughed and said, "No, I just said, well there goes that stupid Bertha again and laughed." I decided then and there that she was my hero. She was my first lesson in "it is ok to make a mistake."
Yesterday, I received a call from my principal over the intercom. "Mrs. D, I need that progress report we discussed earlier!" The angst in her voice was louder than decibels of her voice. Now, lately with hormone changes, I am a lot like my Aunt Bertha when it comes to forgetting things, and for a moment I pulled a complete blank. I remembered printing it off and I remembered thinking, "OK, I got that done," but I couldn't remember actually giving it to her. I hesitated and replied, ".....Didn't.....I....already give that to you?" "No maam you did not!" returned crisply through the speaker. "I thought I did.....?" I replied with some hesitancy as I tried desperately to pull up the memory. All this time my students were quietly and intently listening to this verbal exchange. "I need it before the parent arrives!" "OK, I will...." Click and off went the intercom. My students were all looking at me with some pity as they understand the concept of being in trouble with the principal. One student responded with, "Mrs. D, they always cut you off." I just shrugged and smiled and pointed to the kids giving their presentation and nodded for them to finish, as suddenly the memory surfaced. I had not only given her the print out, but we had discussed a make-up assignment that I would either send home with the kid or send to her office. I was waiting for the students to finish with their presentation when the intercom clicked on again. This time it was the secretary, "Mrs. D, Mrs. J found the report." I smiled, nodded and said, "I remembered...." Click! "....that I had ......." Oh well, I intended to tell her that I had already given the kid the make up work, but I learned long ago that Mrs. J can't handle being wrong.
Now as I compare these two human beings, I can say that I fall somewhere between them. I have not surrendered to the fate of my aging brain so readily as Bertha had and can't always laugh at my forgetfulness, but I have worked to learn that it is OK to make mistakes. I learned this lesson by asking myself how I would respond to someone else who made the same mistake. Why, I would probably be quite compassionate and have a lot more grace for them than I usually do for myself. Then I apply the same response to myself. I use this any time I panic once a mistake is unearthed. It works. And then there is the....
It is OK to make mistakes. It is OK to make mistakes. It is OK to make mistakes..... I practice it a lot and I almost believe it. :-)
Being able to admit our mistakes opens doors with others, that slam shut when we can only become defensive. I used to try to bridge the gap between administration and faculty but I gave up a year ago due to similar instances. I can't change my principal. I wish she was capable of learning from me. If she was, I would teach her the lesson I have learned. People do not like others who are perfect. Perfect people intimidate us. People open to and give their best to those who, like themselves, make mistakes.
In the classroom, I mess up all the time, and when I do, I use it as an example to my students. I often laugh at the little mistakes and shake my head and shrug if it is something minor and I do not hesitate to apologize when I hurt them in some way or correct them when they are not guilty. It develops a wonderful report that leads my kids to say, Mrs. D is cool. I wish I had that relationship with my principal. I wish for her that she could find the peace in knowing, "It is ok to make mistakes."
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2 comments:
What a blessing to have you as a teacher. The classroom needs more Mrs D's.
When I get grouchy the kids don't think so... :-) Mostly I hear, "Mrs. D, you are my favorite teacher." Of course it may be purely political on their parts. I think it is because I care and it shows in many ways. One is that I can't stand to see the glazed over look in their eyes. If they look too bored I have to do something and quick!
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