to my daughter
February 23, 2016 § 8 Comments
This weekend you confessed to me that you felt singled out for help in a class setting, an experience that reinforced old insecurities.
It makes me feel stupid, Mom. I can do it, it just takes me so much longer than the other kids. I’m a slow reader, but I can do it.
I was tempted to underplay the emotions, to tell you that it was no big deal – that your teacher was only helping, but I realize how fortunate I am in your confidence. The truth is our experiences are as real as our perceptions.
I couldn’t imagine sending you back to a setting that undermined your sense of self. How lonely to feel perceived as unable without confidence enough to voice ability.
I drafted a brief letter to your teacher, asking questions and offering understanding. Her response was almost immediate; she outlined the areas where your performance suggested need and volunteered to let you initiate support.
We talked after about how this new awareness created space for you to experiment with greater independence, speaking up in a setting where the boundaries have been safely established. I suggested you begin with a word of thanks, to transform a dialogue of defensiveness into a conversation with mutual respect.
Help comes in many forms, it’s really how we choose to see others’ actions or words of concern relative to how we see ourselves.
Take, for example, your theater teacher. At the same time that one teacher responded to your frustration, another sent a message of acknowledgment.
In a different setting, with a different personality, a teacher saw struggle and used creativity to inspire confidence. When you couldn’t demonstrate mastery of a specific goal, your teacher offered you a new expression of knowledge and your effort was not only accurate, but beautiful.
In both settings there was a need and a mindset of help. In one setting you felt empowered, in another helpless. The only consistent variable between both classrooms was you.
Take note: knowing your challenges and understanding your strengths informs a perception of possibility. You can do hard things.
There’s nothing wrong with needing help.
It’s ok to struggle, to not know, take longer than your peers. It’s also ok to ask for help, try again, rework a problem or request a little more time. We are all more than our mistakes, we’re the sum of our efforts.
Love, Mom
scribblechic 
Another beautiful post. You are such a good mom.
Thank you. I want to be a good mom, I hope I am one. Mothers, like yourself, have given me a wonderful community in which to speak words of appreciation for my experiences. As I told the author of your sharing today, my children have afforded me an exceptional opportunity to become my best self. I am better for them and with them, because of their goodness and despite my flaws.
wow – this so so deep, appreciative and beautiful..
Appreciative is a great compliment, thank you.
Finding that balance within ourselves, as teacher or pupil (regardless of the circumstances), is always a learning process.
I’ve seen many teachers (school), try multiple directions and lose the child.
And many more spread their own wings as well as the child, because they were prepared to ‘step outside’ the box.
If done with love it can only teach…on all sides.
Great post Marie, guide them onward with your heart as you always do, it shines regardless of the weather 🙂
It really does come down to care and connection. Thanks, Mark.
This came at a wonderful time , when my grandson has many of the same struggles. I am also a teacher, and it serves as a good reminder to me to be aware of the problems and successes that each student can have.
Thank you, Barb.
I am so grateful, always, that my children have been able to verbalize the emotions of learning. It has been a wonderful way to address the intimacy of a formal education – recognizing that each experience is unique.
Best of luck with your grandson and students.