Say that you love me
An unexpected thing happened during class yesterday. A student asked a question, which was a bit of a tangent from the discussion at hand. I began to answer the student with great enthusiasm, since it's something that I get really excited about. While I was doing so, another student stopped me. He said "I don't want to learn whatever you're teaching." It was a very small thing, but it was very deflating. It was rain on my parade. It was hearing a child excitedly discuss all of the rides ey looks forward to riding at Disneyland and then telling em that ey's not really going after all.
I was shocked. I was stunned. This was unprecedented. A student had never cut me off mid-stride like that before. I was hurt. I was furious. Instantly, a dozen different ideas rushed into my mind. I could tell him to leave the room. I could reprimand him for his comment. I could grade his upcoming test harshly. I could simply ignore him and continue on. For several seconds I just stood there, with my mouth still open, and thought all of these things and felt all of these feelings. I didn't know what to do or how to react.
For the roughly 10 or 15 minutes that remained in that class and during most of my class immediately following, I thought deeply about this incident. It perplexed me. Why should I become so angry at a student for being honest? Tactless, yes. Impertinent, yes. But not unjustifiable. At any rate, even if it were something completely rude and even entirely untrue, I should not become angry over it. Why did it bother me so?
I often say that I am very confident. And I think I really am. People who know me would probably attest to that. I am a fairly confident person. Especially as a teacher. I'm very confident when I'm teaching freshman level math courses. But I think that perhaps sometimes my confidence is not self-confidence, it is other-confidence. I mean to say that my confidence isn't always something intrinsic within myself--that I am confident merely because I believe myself to be qualified--but that it is extrinsic and based on how other people view me--more importantly, how they treat me.
Let's go back to my example. I'm talking about something that I think is incredibly fascinating. I know much about it and I think it's really cool. Then a student cuts me off and says not only that it isn't fascinating but that he has no interest in being told about it at all. This is a blow to my confidence. I want my students to love me, even when I'm teaching them something that isn't on the curriculum for the course.
I want everyone to love me. I surround myself with lots of friends. I like having friends. I have never felt like I have too many friends at any point in my life. I enjoy being social with other people. I enjoy having friends. And I want them all to love me. I want them to love everything about me. I want them to love the fact that I'm gay and that I'm in a relationship with an amazing man. I want them to love the fact that I'm atheist and think that religion is garbage.
I want people to think of me as smart, kind, loving, caring, wise, respectful, and every other positive quality. When I am truly honest with myself, I like being smart. In fact, I like being smarter than other people. I like being taller than other people. I like being nicer than other people. I even like being fatter than other people. I like being a beacon for other people. I like being the shoulder to cry on. I like being the friend people come to for advice. I like being the confidant.
I hate being criticized. I hate people suggesting that I'm less than perfect. I hate being told that I'm less than what I think I am.
So what does that say about me? That I'm selfish? I suppose so. Ego-centric? Yes, I think that's the definition of the word. So, what's the next step? Where do I go from here? I don't know what to do about it. I'm not sure what course of action to take. But isn't being aware of it and admitting it a good start? I think that it's empowering to be aware of things such as this.
Also, I love the song (although this is my first time seeing the music video--it's weird).
I was shocked. I was stunned. This was unprecedented. A student had never cut me off mid-stride like that before. I was hurt. I was furious. Instantly, a dozen different ideas rushed into my mind. I could tell him to leave the room. I could reprimand him for his comment. I could grade his upcoming test harshly. I could simply ignore him and continue on. For several seconds I just stood there, with my mouth still open, and thought all of these things and felt all of these feelings. I didn't know what to do or how to react.
For the roughly 10 or 15 minutes that remained in that class and during most of my class immediately following, I thought deeply about this incident. It perplexed me. Why should I become so angry at a student for being honest? Tactless, yes. Impertinent, yes. But not unjustifiable. At any rate, even if it were something completely rude and even entirely untrue, I should not become angry over it. Why did it bother me so?
I often say that I am very confident. And I think I really am. People who know me would probably attest to that. I am a fairly confident person. Especially as a teacher. I'm very confident when I'm teaching freshman level math courses. But I think that perhaps sometimes my confidence is not self-confidence, it is other-confidence. I mean to say that my confidence isn't always something intrinsic within myself--that I am confident merely because I believe myself to be qualified--but that it is extrinsic and based on how other people view me--more importantly, how they treat me.
Let's go back to my example. I'm talking about something that I think is incredibly fascinating. I know much about it and I think it's really cool. Then a student cuts me off and says not only that it isn't fascinating but that he has no interest in being told about it at all. This is a blow to my confidence. I want my students to love me, even when I'm teaching them something that isn't on the curriculum for the course.
I want everyone to love me. I surround myself with lots of friends. I like having friends. I have never felt like I have too many friends at any point in my life. I enjoy being social with other people. I enjoy having friends. And I want them all to love me. I want them to love everything about me. I want them to love the fact that I'm gay and that I'm in a relationship with an amazing man. I want them to love the fact that I'm atheist and think that religion is garbage.
I want people to think of me as smart, kind, loving, caring, wise, respectful, and every other positive quality. When I am truly honest with myself, I like being smart. In fact, I like being smarter than other people. I like being taller than other people. I like being nicer than other people. I even like being fatter than other people. I like being a beacon for other people. I like being the shoulder to cry on. I like being the friend people come to for advice. I like being the confidant.
I hate being criticized. I hate people suggesting that I'm less than perfect. I hate being told that I'm less than what I think I am.
So what does that say about me? That I'm selfish? I suppose so. Ego-centric? Yes, I think that's the definition of the word. So, what's the next step? Where do I go from here? I don't know what to do about it. I'm not sure what course of action to take. But isn't being aware of it and admitting it a good start? I think that it's empowering to be aware of things such as this.
Also, I love the song (although this is my first time seeing the music video--it's weird).
There are lots of songs I like, yet I either do not care for their music videos or I think the videos are strange.
ReplyDeleteMost of my family really is not interested in the things I like. It hurt. I realized I loved them even though I was not interested in a lot of the things that were important to them. My family is blunt. Sometimes that hurts. I think we have learned to be more accepting the past few years in spite of our diffierent interests and beliefs. We have mellowed with age.