We’ve all been in a situation where panic envelops us.What’s wrong with me? Why can’t I do this? Why is (fill in the blank) doing this to me?
At some point in the process, we have to make a decision. Either we continue down that road of questioning--frustration mounting within us like an untenable force--or we stop, regroup and reframe.
We shift our line of questioning back to an avenue we can control.
Factually speaking, what exactly happened? For what part was I responsible? How do I want things to turn out?
And then…
What can I do NOW to make that happen?
When we sprint along the track of panic, life feels chaotic, but when we chose to regroup and reframe, our to-do list empowers us to act, to change, to move forward and to grow.
Though this makes a whole of sense, until I learned about the learner-judger mindset as an adult, I never stopped to consider the methodology of how I got past challenges, or what went wrong when I didn’t. When I hit a rough patch, sometimes I had it in me to persevere. Other times, family, friends, teachers or coaches helped me find my footing.
Regardless of how I got out of the rut, in all of those situations when I did, one thing always rang true: taking the time to pause, reconsider and refocus enabled me to identify actionable steps to change my circumstances.
More importantly, conceiving those steps--and writing over the destructive narrative that prevents us from seeing them in the first place--allowed me to manage the panic, the frustration, the fear, the baggage of life that keeps us from something more productive.
If I had been given the right words to see this as a young person, and empowered with the appropriate means to actively choose the right mindset, I wonder how able and competent I might have felt in some of my most frustrating moments.
Fortunately for students in Upper Arlington High School German teacher Tricia Fellinger’s class, they won’t have to wonder.
In an effort to illustrate the difference between a learner mindset and a judger mindset, Fellinger brought her students to the Active Learning Lab last Friday for the first part of a two-day lesson.
She started the conversation by distributing puzzle pieces of international landmarks, and she asked students to find classmates who had the other parts of their picture. Once the puzzles were complete, these beginner-intermediate students had to make the most of what they knew to describe the pictures they had.
Students had a few moments to collaborate and plan their responses. Then they shared their descriptions and reflected on the process. When Fellinger asked them how they approached the problem, students said it was a difficult task because they only had one level of German. They said that instead of searching for bigger words, like they would in English, they used “simpler words,” "they worked together," or they “asked for help.” Some admitted to using Leo, a German-English translator tool.
“So you know how to use your resources?” Fellinger clarified when they offered their ideas, and the students nodded. “That’s an important part of the learning process. Sometimes we all need to know when and how to get help.”
Following this activity, Fellinger projected a series of images on the board and asked students to decide which roles she should play and which roles she shouldn’t.
While the images were fairly straightforward, students thought outside the box, interpreting them in ways that differed from what Fellinger expected.
For instance, Fellinger planned to reject the image of Wonder Woman as a role that befit her. She wanted students to know that just like them, she sometimes needed help too, but when students saw that image, they thought of it as a positive role for her to play. They felt Wonder Woman represented a person who led by example and was there if they needed help.
When students saw a spoon, some saw it the way Fellinger intended it--teacher as spoon-feeder--a role neither those students nor Fellinger wanted; however, some saw the spoon as strong, durable and flexible. These interpretations dodepict roles members of the class thought she should play.
When students saw the police woman, they assumed that the image represented the need for a teacher to ensure rules were followed so the learning environment was safe enough for students to ask questions or engage in conversations. Fellinger originally offered the image as a role she didn’t want to play because she didn’t want “police” every move in their collaborative learning environment; however, when students offered their interpretation, both Fellinger and the students had the chance to clarify the way they perceived the image, and consequently, all of them had a real conversation about the role of a teacher, a conversation that generally doesn’t happen because roles are often assumed.
Later in the period, Fellinger asked students to find images of roles they played as students, and as they shared their images, her intern, Bryan Knowlton, from the Ohio State University’s M.Ed program, recorded what they said. Over the weekend, Fellinger whittled down those roles into simple phrases, translated them into German, and hung them up in the classroom.
When students walked into her room on Monday morning, their work was visible.
Fellinger said it is important to make these roles visible--and the process of all work visible--because while we are really good at showcasing polished products, we don’t always show--or celebrate--how we got there. Fellinger feels the process is just as important as the result. Because learning is often messy, if we don’t see that process, then it’s tough to recognize the value of wading through it.
Once Fellinger reviewed the roles her students established, she gave her class the opportunity to consider the internal dialogue people often embrace when they encounter challenges.
She could have simply offered a visual with a list of questions and told students what they meant, but Fellinger wanted them to work through the process themselves.
She handed them a list of questions--and without further instruction--told students to group those questions into two categories. She intentionally avoided labeling the categories for students, or telling them how to divide the questions up. She wanted them to consider what made the questions similar or different from one another and she wanted to see which words students would use to label what they found.
Why can’t I do this?
What is wrong with Frau Fellinger? Doesn’t she know we can’t do this?
What can I gain from trying to do this?
What do I want for myself in this situation? What do I want for others in this situation?
What are they thinking, feeling, and wanting?
Why am I so much worse at doing this than everyone else?
What’s wrong with me?
What assumptions am I making?
Am I being respectful to myself and others?
What can I do?
In the end, with one exception (What assumptions am I making?) every group categorized the questions the same way. They used different words to label the groups (productive vs. self-deprecating, positive vs. negative), but the essence of division was the same. With the question they grouped differently, similar to the conversation about Wonder Woman, spoons and police women, the ensuing dialogue was productive. The student who classified asking about assumptions into the negative category had a chance to explain his line of thought, while those who classified it as positive had the chance to explain theirs.
Once the students had an opportunity to discuss their impressions and rationale, Fellinger introduced Marilee Adams’s choice map, a visual that shows the difference between a “Learner” mindset and a “Judger” mindset (also detailed in Adams’s book Change Your Questions, Change Your Life).
Using images and words placed strategically along literal paths, Adams’ map demonstrates how the way we think about an issue determines where we are destined to land if we continue following the same course.
But it also shows how reframing a question can turn you around at any point and set you on your way to something better.
That means Why can’t I do this? turns into What can I do?
And What is wrong with Frau Fellinger? Doesn’t she know we can’t do this? gets shifted back to the student, to the task, to the desired outcome.
What happened? How can I change it? Where can I improve? What should I do to get help?
In the end, through this start-of-the-year work, Fellinger gave students a way to create new dialogue, a reason to pause, regroup and reframe. She made the process we go through visible, tangible, and real. Most importantly, well before they’re stuck in a moment of frustration, she gave her students a tool to work their way out.