The Providence Journal
Rita Watson: Words that harm, words that heal
01:00 AM EDT on Monday, October 2, 2006
I WORRY about children in this new school year. Teachers hold in their hands the power to affect a child’s image, for better or worse. For all the times I smile when my sons talk about their “best teacher,” I still tremble when I think of the sadness surrounding a little girl in another classroom.
She had forgotten to bring a gift on Secret Santa Day. I still imagine her alone, watching other children open presents. For her, there was no present — just hurt and perhaps anger. Why? The teacher essentially said, “No present, no party.”
Despite what children learn at home, it is at school, under the microscope of teacher and peers, that they form opinions about themselves. Today education is more than just the basics; it is also about critical thinking, socialization, and life skills.
At Yale we taught coping skills to teenage mothers as a way to deflect anger, use words kindly, make decisions, and see problems from another person’s perspective. Although I wish that coping skills were a part of every curriculum, as class size expands, children are mainstreamed, and new education theories are promulgated, can I expect teachers to be superheroes who will remember the power of their words?
When I was at Hunter College, in New York City, a professor admonished me in class: “Young lady, never teach beyond the second-grade level. There you will do the least damage to the English language.”
It happened that another professor rescued my damaged ego and steered me into journalism.
Curious about creativity, I asked Art Prof. Lynn Curtis, at Providence College, how she handles “talent.” She said, “Every student in an art class has a gift. It is our job to let them express their potential.”
At my daughter-in-law’s recent graduation from Bridgewater (Mass.) State College, I began wondering if academia had embraced the positive-word concept while training teachers. Twenty years ago, Kenneth Blanchard’s book “The One Minute Manager” spawned a theory of productivity still being replicated: public praise and private criticism.
I began asking professors their opinions about teaching teachers, and if they had been schooled in constructive criticism. Finally I turned to my education guru in Chicago.
She sent me two articles. The first, “The Neuroscience of Leadership,” by David Rock and Jeffrey Schwartz, points out positive ways to bring about change: “Leave problem behaviors in the past; focus on identifying and creating new behaviors.” Ask thoughtful questions, rather than dictating advice.
I loved it: solution-focused questioning — documentation that “How many times have I told you?” does not work.
The second article, about education theory, was over my head, but the piece contained a vignette in which an inner-city teacher challenged a student outcast using solution-focused questioning. By recognizing the student’s individuality, the teacher turned a withdrawn, “hiding” student into an animated participant.
In this serendipitous world, the author of that article, John-Michael Bodi, an assistant professor of education, is director of the Master’s Core Program at Bridgewater State College. I decided to ask him if I could teach “Earth Mother 101: Words That Harm, Words That Heal,” based on effective business models and years of motherhood. In our society, parents, spouses, others in relationships, and, yes, even teachers forget the harm of sharp, angry words.
But instead I asked Dr. Bodi about the philosophy of teaching teachers. His realistic response: “We can teach from books. We can teach with our words. Most powerfully, we teach by example.”
Courses on kindness may not be in the cards at universities preparing the next generation of teachers. But for the sake of our children, and my grandchildren, a professor educating future teachers might repeat daily a message that harks back to Proverbs: “A gentle word is the tree of life.”
Rita Watson is director of education for a medical project and senior editor for an on-line medical magazine.