Well, I'm getting myself in the groove to give a webcam session for
Florida Gulf Coast University--you know that March Madness No.15 seed dream
team that sent No.2 seed Georgetown packing--and then an all day workshop on
creating a motivational classroom environment at Hawaii Pacific University in
Honolulu a week later. Susie insists on sitting next to me on the planes
flying to Oahu--with a detour to Maui. I can't for the life of me understand
why. Anyway, to crack my adrenal floodgate ajar, I've been rereading my
heavily notated Richard Boyatzis' RESONANT LEADERSHIP, and reading two books
that just came in: Mark Goulston's REAL INFLUENCE and Todd Rose's SQUARE PEG.
As I read these three books, I constantly nodded my head in silent
agreement as I drifted back over sixty-five years to P.S. 160 on Manhattan's
East Side and into Mrs. Satchel's first grade class. It's really a challenge
for me to think of Mrs. Satchel without grimacing. Kindliness and Mrs Satchel
are not synonyms for me even if I do everything I can to believe that she had
my best interests at heart. But, it's tough. Mrs. Satchel was diminutive in
size and wrinkled in spirit. She looked like a unwrapped, shriveled escapee
from an Egyptian sarcophagus with a heart that was equally mummified. I can't
tell you how many times she angrily rapped the knuckles on my left hand with a
wooden ruler during penmanship lessons. These weren't gentle reminding
touches. They were Simon Legree whacks. There was no displayed love in any of
the hard blows that echoed off the walls of the classroom. She could tell
satan was in the classroom and that I was in danger of being enlisted into his
horde of devilish minions. No, there was no odor of sulphur; there was just my
sulfurous refusal to use my right hand as I learned to write my ABCs. And,
she was going to be a Daniel Webster who'd send Mr Scratch packing and save my
soul by getting me to write with my right hand. Now, there was no rebellion in
my refusal to abandon my left hand; there was no defiance in ignoring my right
hand. I was and still am totally--and I mean totally--wired as a southpaw.
But, she saw the use of my left hand as a sign of mephistophelean disobedience.
She was going to ram that square lefty peg into a right round hole. Nothing I
could say mattered. Nothing my parents wrote in their replies to her notes
mattered. The more her yelling, that ruler, and the notes to my parents failed
to get me to forego my left hand, the more she became a condemning medieval
inquisitor, and the harder and louder the torturous ruler came down. "Stick
out your hand, Schmier" was a stern command that sent shivers through my spine.
I'd go cold, twist my lips, shut my eyes tight, hunch my shoulders, and
constrict every muscle in my body in anticipation of the painful descent of
that ruler. Many a day I went home with such swollen and reddened finger
joints my parents thought I was in street fights, especially at the times when
her ruler had drawn blood--until my father angrily accompanied me to school one
day and forcefully told Mrs Satchel in no uncertain terms to back off.
In the end, Mrs. Satchel failed. I write with my left hand.
Mephistopheles won. My beloved Susie always says that there's more than a
little impish devil in me. But, there is never a day, never a
time--never--when I pick up a pen or pencil--with my left hand--that I don't go
back to those dark, painful classroom days when I failed penmanship day after
day after day. And, it is because of Mrs. Satchel refusal to accept me as I
was that my handwriting has more than a strong resemblance to unintelligible
and indecipherable Sumerian cuneiform.
Now, before I go any further, let me firmly state that what I am about
to say is not only for faculty vis-a-vis students, but for administrators
vis-a-vis faculty and staff as well.
Many people have asked me over the years why I poured so much time and
effort into reading daily student journals, about 160 each weekday. If I
wanted to give a cryptic answer, I'd merely say, "Mrs. Satchel!" She's a piece
of my history that is a reminder to me that I simply wanted to be one of
Boyatzis' resonant classroom leaders; I didn't want to be a dissonant teacher
such was Mrs. Satchel. I wanted to walk in "their" shoes; I wanted to go to
where Goulston calls "their there." "There" I could see each student as one of
Rose's square pegs. You see, if you want to exercise the powers of persuasion
and influence, if you want to be, as Richard Boyatzis says, an inspiring,
magnetic, motivating, influencing, persuasive "resonant leader," if you want to
improve lives, if you want to point the way to a kinder and better future, if
you want each student to reach for her or his potential, don't fool yourself
into thinking, as Mrs.Satchel did, that you will convince anyone from a
position of what Goulston calls commanding "our here."
No, the key to successful teaching is influence and persuasion, not
authority. If you want to help "them" get the most out of themselves, shake
their world in a very gentle, caring, and loving way. Get to know them, as
personally as possible, as much as they'll let you. Connect. Communicate.
Create a genuine rapport. Strengthen personal relationships. Be in a
unconditional "carefull," "believefull," "hopefull," and "lovefull" mode.
Start with "their," not "your." Don't act as if they're already in on the know
of how and the why of things, and are on your side of the podium. Get out from
your perspective. Back off from your stereotyping. Let go of your
generalizing. Approach them as the square peg each of them is, as the one size
that fits none. Meet them on their terms, from their assumptions, from their
points of view, from where they see things, and from their experiences. Pick
up on things that are important to them. Get and show a sincere interest in
them. Drop your defenses. Listen to them, to what and how they speak with
their lips, eyes, and bodies. See them as they are. Go to them where they're
at. Go into what is going on inside them. Get and show an empathy and an
awareness, that you understand what they're dealing with, that you understand
who they are, that you're willing to connect with them on a personal level,
that you're offering opportunities for making things better. Show them that
you "get it," that you "get where I'm at," that you "get me." Strive more
for mutual understanding more than agreement. And, as you do that, you'll have
a better chance of minimizing misunderstandings, fears, unresponses,
disappointments, frustrations, and even anger.
And, I've also learned that it's all about creating a super glued bond
of what the Greeks called "philia," love that serves others. For when you
love, you care; when you care, you respect; when you respect, you notice; when
you notice, you empathize; and, when you empathize, you put all your heart and
head into vitalizing the power of your attention. Do that, and you're both
there and here.
Make it a good day
-Louis-
Louis Schmier
http://www.therandomthoughts.edublogs.org
203 E. Brookwood Pl http://www.therandomthoughts.com
Valdosta, Ga 31602
(C) 229-630-0821 /\ /\ /\ /\
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/ \ / \
/ \/ \_ \/ / \/
/\/ / \ /\ \
//\/\/ /\ \__/__/_/\_\/
\_/__\ \
/\"If you want to climb
mountains,\ /\
_ / \ don't practice on mole
hills" - / \_
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