Have you ever returned a batch of exams to several students who have failed a test and felt a deep sense of anxiousness in the pit of your stomach? It’s as if you had done something wrong when it was the student who failed the test. That sense of anxiety you feel is more specifically called shame. Researcher Brene Brown (2012) states, “Shame is the fear of disconnection—it’s the fear that something we’ve done or not done, an ideal that we’ve not lived up to, or a goal that we’ve not accomplished makes us unworthy of connection. (p. 68) ”Early in my teaching career, I felt this sense of shame every time I returned a failed exam to a student, was criticized by a student, or received suggestions from my co-teachers about things I could be doing better. Shame is primarily a sense of feeling exposed and a fear of potential disconnection due to that exposure.

Two Extremes

There are two kinds of shame-based teachers: those described above who live in anxiety, wanting to hide, and the opposite sort of teacher who almost enjoys handing back a failed assignment because the student got what he or she deserved for being either “stupid” or “lazy.” In this type of teacher behavior, long-term educator John Tieman (2007) states, “shaming is not a solo. It’s a duet. Shaming is done in the context of, in this case, the dyad, the duet, the student and the teacher. (p. 39)" He further asserts that it is “in our humiliation that we humiliate.” In the world of intensive English teaching, there is so much pressure on both teacher and student that attitudes can get nasty on both sides. Underneath these two extremes lies shame. Whether the teacher hides from the disappointed student or lashes out at the student by flippantly tossing the failed test onto his or her desk, both fight and flight mechanisms are an attempt to try to get away from the shame—the possibility that maybe we weren’t perfect enough as a teacher.

Perfectionism

Brown (2010) also notes that perfectionism is a form of trying to “outrun” shame. If I can be perfect, then maybe no one, including myself, will see my mistakes or failures. The problem with perfectionism is that it leaves us feeling exhausted and often causes divisions in our relationships both at work and at home. Sometimes, we just have to call it a day and go home or do something to take care of ourselves emotionally.

I remember one time, a co-teacher of mine explained that she was having trouble sleeping because she would wake up at 3 or 4 am and start thinking about all the different assignments she could be creating. I told her that I used to have the same problem but that when I wake up now, I remind myself that it would be better for my students if I were to go back to sleep, rest, and be prepared physically for class. That way, they get the best of me, instead of the worst of me. My co-teacher took that advice to heart and now she just goes back to sleep and wakes up at an appropriate hour.

An Alternative

The reality is that, within reason, your student’s failure or success is largely dependent on him or her. Even deeper, we have to move to a position in our mind where the student isn’t responsible for our mental and emotional well-being. The moment we base our happiness on their success or failure is the moment we’ve placed a huge weight on their shoulders that they never deserved. We must divorce our approval of them from their performance. Over the past several years, as I’ve reversed the roles by placing academic responsibility on them and emotional responsibility on me, I’ve been able to meet my students more as equals than as rivals or challenges.

The Results

A teacher who doesn’t try to hide from, push back on, or outrun being exposed for his or her imperfections, mistakes, and failures has the ability to be both playful and professional in the classroom. Shame robs us of these abilities. It is hard to be playful or level headed (i.e., professional) when shame is pervasive throughout our mind, emotions, and body. Researcher Stuart Brown (2009) states, “When people are able to find that sense of play in their work, they become truly powerful figures.” (chapter 5, "Getting It Back", Para. 8). Thus, playfulness and equality are not just about making things fun. Students will feel safer and less weighed down by the teacher’s emotional burden and shame. Incidentally, the teacher may even find himself or herself interacting more graciously and positively with struggling students. Researcher John Gottman states that in his research over the past 40 years, relationally healthy married couples generally use 5 positive remarks for every 1 negative remark. Contrast that with relationally unhealthy married couples, who use 0.8 positive remarks for every 1 negative (Gottman & Silver, 2012 Chapter 1, “Truths About ‘What is Dysfunctional’ When a Relationship Is Ailing”, Para. 2). I imagine it is the same for relationally healthy teacher-student relationships. We can’t control students, but we can meet them as equals, offering them our positive affection, while relegating their academic success to themselves. Then, playfulness and safety can thrive in the midst of our failures and those of students.

References

Brown, B. (2010). The gifts of imperfection. Retrieved from http://youtu.be/Ck6atQ6xppc
Brown, B. (2012). Daring greatly: How the Courage to be vulnerable transforms the way we live, love, parent, and lead. New York, NY: Gotham Books.
Brown, S. (2009). Play: How it shapes the brain, opens the imagination, and invigorates the soul. [Kindle 6” version]. Retrieved from Amazon.com.

Gottman, J., & Silver, N. (2012). The science of trust. [Kindle 6” version]. Retrieved from Amazon.com.

Tieman, J. S. (2007). The ghost in the schoolroom: A primer in the lessons of shame. Schools: Studies in Education, 4, 39–55.