100% that…

It is often said that, in teaching, everyone needs “someone to borrow from and someone to complain to.” Or, actually, less politely (and more honestly?), “someone to steal from and someone to bitch to.”

I believe this is fair.

As to the first part, I’d imagine you, dear reader, would not argue – after all, you’re reading over a teaching-related blog for advice, tips, or useful experiences. We all do this. We learn, we see, we observe a technique, a plan, an activity, an analogy somewhere, and we take it for our own. Sometimes we even give attribution. This is part of how teaching is also always learning. We can always do better. We can always try something new. We can always benefit from the experience of others. In the words of Ram Dass, “when you know how to listen, everybody is the guru.”

It’s the second part that can be a bit trickier, if sometimes no less necessary. Sometimes we just have to let off steam, and do so to someone who shares our context. Teaching is a unique profession with unique concerns, and it’s good to have a trusted friend who knows and understands those concerns. In “bitching to” them, we often learn that we are not alone in our struggles, that someone else has been where we are, and that they’ve lived to tell the tale. Or we learn that our worries about a policy, a course, an institutional structure, or a workplace relationship are shared and reasonable (or, in some best cases, not shared and unfounded). There is, to be clear, nothing wrong with an occasional “bitch session.”

However, I have learned that the “complain to” option can be a slippery slope. As an engaged teacher and faculty member surrounded by fellow engaged teachers and faculty members, I talked a lot at my former college about how things were going. Eventually, I noticed something – there was a real tendency for those conversations to turn negative very quickly. Of course we headed for problem areas first – we were problem-solving people. It struck me at some point, though, that, without trying, complaint had become a reflex. Almost all our work-related chats struck a negative note. Something seemed amiss, but I couldn’t name it.

Then something else happened. Our college administration called a group of us who were department chairs, area heads, and program directors together to meet with visiting admissions consultants. They asked us what we did – especially what we did well (clearly with the intent to sell it, but that’s not the point). And 45 minutes later, I noted something. The same group of people whose talks usually leaned toward “bitching” had in fact spent nearly an hour talking positively, together, about our school. I noted two additional things: firstly, the even starker realization that we had hardly ever done this on our own, and, secondly, that I was walking away with a far better understanding of the identity of our college – a place I had worked for over a decade!

The consultant partnership did not pan out. But the lessons of that experience stayed with me: that though we know it in theory, in practice, the difference between critique and criticism is easy to cross, and that, in any assessment, you have a stronger sense of who you are if you start with the positives.

Lest this seem like silly optimism, consider – to start with what is wrong or what could be better is to literally start with nothing, that is, to start with what’s lacking, and, in a real sense not there. To start with positives is to start with something that is there – in other words, with an actual foundation. To start with the positive is to start with a strong sense of identity; to start with the negative is to start with a sense of identity crisis.

“To truly lead, you have to be clear on who you are,” writes leadership coach Jim McPartlin. And he, too, suggests starting with the good. “First, lead with the positive. What do you most value about yourself?” He suggests making a list yourself – and also asking trusted friends and colleagues to positively describe you. Only then do you move on to the problems, which McPartlin calls “blind spots.” “True leadership,” he explains, “means having a strong sense of both [your] attributes and the patterns that create [your] blind spots.” My realization after the admissions meeting was how often and how easily my colleagues and I had only focused on the latter. Which had only told us who we weren’t – not who we were. And without a sense of who we are, it is easy to lack purpose and motivation. Hidden in what we do well are the truths of our mission and vision, because we do well what we devote time, energy, and passion to.

Pop-culture-savvy readers may have caught the allusion in my title to the Lizzo song “Truth Hurts,” wherein she sings: “I just took a DNA test, turns out I’m 100% that bitch.” Silly? Sure – but it reflects (as much of Lizzo’s music does) a strong sense of identity. In fact, that song is an assessment of past and current lovers – and one that starts from a strong sense of who she is. She can assess strongly because she knows who she is and what she wants.

What I’m arguing for is developing the habit of beginning all assessments that way. Recently, I moderated a town hall meeting in a church setting. It was the second of two. I decided to begin as suggested here – first of all, what were we doing right as a church? Many good answers followed. Only then did I ask what could be improved. Afterward, I was told that this second meeting was much less contentious than the first (which I could not attend). That may have been simply because grievances were aired already. But I like to think it had to do with how the discussion was framed. Because I’m 100% that guy.

Things to think about:

• How do you frame assessments of your own work, courses, or even yourself? Do you find yourself drifting to the negative? Why?
• What might it be like to begin meetings, class sessions, or workshops with a short gratitude exercise?
• What practices do you use to direct your attention? To direct the attention of your students? Do you tend to look for problems? For solutions? For things to appreciate?
• We’re all familiar with things like the “praise sandwich” in grading and commenting. Do you consider the ratio of positive to negative feedback you give students? What feedback do you encourage them to give each other?
• Where do you spend most of your time & energy in your teaching? In your own work? What might this say about your priorities?
• How would you describe yourself in what I might call “Lizzo-ese?” What “percentages” are you composed of as a teacher? As a person?

To go a little further:

• McPartlin’s advice, along with many other interesting and productive exercises, can be found in his book The Enneagram at Work: Unlocking the Power of Type to Lead and Succeed.
• The Ram Dass quote comes from his famous book Be Here Now.
• An easy way to get started focusing on the positive is by keeping a “gratitude journal” wherein you record daily, weekly, or on some other schedule, things that make you happy.
• Relatedly, the NPR podcast Pop Culture Happy Hour has a recurring segment on “What’s making us happy this week.” Not only are those a fun listen, but I intend to steal some version of that as a class exercise someday.
• And, of course, Lizzo.