A spoon full of sugar is what kindness is to us

by Jillian @ http://blueshelled.com . May 7, 2009 . 2:13AM

One thing I’ve noticed is that we, as humans, understand abstract, but we want our proof in tangible form. When you ask people about God, they want to see Him/Her. When you ask people about love, they want you to prove it to them. When you stand accused, you must have a tangible alibi for why you are not guilty.

These things don’t change as we get older. When we hit about 12, Piaget, a development psychologist said that we begin to develop the capability for abstract thinking and moving beyond that concrete thought. I agree with Piaget because I have personally experienced this phenomenon and seen it with my eyes. I’ve taught it and shown it to my students and watched them be convinced of it’s truth. However, what I recognize is that the want and the need is still there to experience hands on proof for the things in life that comfort us.

If you feel attracted to someone, they want proof that you are attracted. How can I say this delicately? I don’t want you to walk up to me and show me your proof. Please don’t. You go to jail for those kinds of things. However, a comment as such is a good indicator of that unless it’s something like “Baby, dem clothes are looking mighty fine but dey be looking better on my floor.” I know you get my drift, here.

If you care for someone, they want proof that you care. A kind word or gesture is well received and I’m not talking a pep talk or false compliment. Something genuine that speaks to who they are as a person.

If someone feels insecure, they want to know that they can trust you. Trust is so hard because the question is, really, how do I give someone that in a tangible form? It’s so hard to earn because it’s a series of acts, rather than one act and a single act can negate all of the series.

My reason for bringing all of this up is due to my own feelings that came about after I received feedback from my students this semester. Finals were this week, May 5, and I had just given them an incredibly hard cumulative final. This was my first semester teaching undergraduates, which was daunting by itself, but I was also teaching Gen Psych. The thing about Gen Psych is that it is such a broad, diverse subject with so much material to cover that you never get everything in that you need to in a semester. Students often believe that you are an expert in the field when, in reality, I know alot about psychology, but I’m not an expert. I will be a lifelong learner.

Overall, my experience was astounding. I learned more from them than I believe they learned from me. I watched them grow and change in so many ways over the course of the semester. My worry about being a new instructor waned some as I drifted into my groove and learned more about my class. Every now and then, though, my doubts would come back to haunt me that maybe I wasn’t a good enough teacher and they would be better served by someone else. Just like everyone else, I needed that tangible proof that what I was doing was working and I was effective.

As I graded their papers, I hoped for strong grades and that they would all earn the final grade they wanted in the course. Overall, the majority of my students had As and Bs and I could not be more proud of them. My course was very, very challenging and I expected a lot from each and every one of them. They worked hard and they should be proud of themselves. After I finished my 4 hours of grading, I finally took time to savor my feedback. I was prepared for some nastiness after the final I’d just given them.

There was not a single bad comment about my teaching. There were some complaints about things that were beyond my control in the classroom setting, but overall, they rated me as “one of the best” teachers. There were so many edifying comments that, when I was finished reading, I was close to weeping. One said that he or she wished all of his/her teachers were just like me. Another said they would miss me, another loved the class, etc. There were more but I want to hold them in my heart. They feel too personal to share.

Yes, we all need something tangible, don’t we? I want to say that I’m so mature and comfortable in my own skin that I don’t need the reassurance, but it sure feels nice. Humans sure do respond well to kindness, don’t they?

Happy Thoughts Compilation from the last week

by Jillian @ http://blueshelled.com . March 28, 2009 . 11:38PM

I don’t know if anyone actually comes to my blog or if everyone just reads through a reader of some sort, but every day or every other, I make changes to my sidebar. They are just little thoughts that aren’t big enough for a whole entry, though they might eventually make up an entry. They are still things I want to remember, however, so here they are.

Sunday, March 22, 2009
When I’m sick, my dogs are as concerned as any human being I’ve ever met.

Monday, March 23, 2009
When I’m away from home and feel sad, upset or stressed out, the only place I want to be is at home and cuddling my dogs or talking to my family. They are my happy place.

Tuesday, March 24, 2009
Every time I teach my class teaches me more than I teach them. And they make me smile. A lot.

Wednesday, March 25, 2009
A test is really just a piece of paper with an ink on it. The only importance it has is the importance I give it and my self-worth isn’t based on how I do on it. Thank you, Dr. Chris Blazina for the cognitive reframe today.

Saturday, March 28, 2009
Life DOES come with extra credit. It’s called McDonald’s reduced fat vanilla ice cream.

I’m not a team player

by Jillian @ http://blueshelled.com . March 27, 2009 . 4:04AM

By and large, I love teaching. I was worried I wouldn’t, but teaching my class is one of the best parts of my day. Another best part being treating my clients. And, of course, the best-best part being time with family and friends. However, as much as I love people, a thought has occurred to me that, in our society, signifies certain death to me in almost all realms: I am not a team player.

There. I said it. Throw your stones.

I’ve known it for a while, but I tried to play it off like it was nothing. I’m an introvert by nature and I’m tired of pretending to be something I’m not. My eyes were opened the day I saw an egg on the front of a book and for some reason decided to read it. It was and still is one of the best books I’ve ever read in my life and I high recommend The Introvert Advantage by Marti Olsen Laney to any and every single person in the whole world who thinks they might be uncomfortable in a group setting. I fought the introvert in me for years by throwing myself into drama, choir, band (yes, I was not the most popular person in high school) and essentially tried to do what I thought I “should” do. I have no idea where I got the idea I “should” be anything, but it felt like the thing to do. Until I read this book.

Now that you have the back story, I’m not a team player. I try to be a team player, I do, and I can be a team player when I really put my mind to it. Last night, in class, there was a narcissist in my group and I about lost it on her. What was to be a group decision became about who could “sway her vote” because with a narcissist it’s all about HER (or him but in this case she was female). I almost walked out of the class. I’m working on self-control in those situations. The woman is in her 50s. I’m almost 30 and I feel like I’m too old for the behavior that says “when I’m in a group you must all fight to change my opinion.” Screw you, lady. We have our opinions and we’ll all pick the last option together. It doesn’t mean that since you now know what we might pick that you get to have us fight so you can change yours.

I also tend to get annoyed when other faculty at my college try to intimidate me. As this is a particularly sensitive issue, I’ll just say this: No, you can’t have it and you aren’t intimidating me because you may bark loud but I’m bigger than you are so I’m not scared. Just because you are demanding, rude and a backbiter doesn’t mean you’ll get your way. I put my name on it and it’s mine. Get your own.

Lastly, I’m an adult. Don’t shush me when I walk into a room to ask you about something of mine that another faculty told me you confiscated without permission and have apparently been hoarding in your office. I didn’t make up the idea, it was expressed to me and I was coming to seek out the truth of the matter so I would know what to do when my class started IN 5 MINUTES. If you shush me again, I will get mean. Really, really mean. Don’t shush me. Ever.

I love my second job. I hate the sidework. I hate grading. I hate talking to kids who I know are giving their all about the drop deadline because I’m worried about their future. I hate talking to kids who I know aren’t giving their all because I’m worried about their future. Most of all, I hate dealing with other people who have varying ideas of how much better than me they think they are (not all of them, sillies, that would be a generalization, some of them are awesome).

But I love what I do. I have two professions where I don’t technically have to BE a team player to do well.

Society can bite me. I’m doing just fine.