Teachers come in lots of
different flavors, although most of them will not let you lick them to figure
out what flavor they are. This is
a good thing because we learners also come in lots of flavors. (You can pause here to lick your arm to
detect your own flavor if you like.)
Some teachers are peanut butter to our chocolate, lox to our cream
cheese, rosemary to our roast potatoes.
What we need to know comes flowing out of those teachers in ways that we
can easily absorb. The challenges
become manageable with their help.
Then there are the kind of
teachers who are cheddar to our peppermint, pickles to our fruit salad, or ice
cream on our steak. We can still
learn from that second kind. And,
no, I don’t mean how to avoid them, although that is definitely a useful
skill. We can learn, by managing
our attitudes, how to translate a totally foreign language into something we
can understand.
While I was away on vacation, my
son T.R. and I took a ski lesson together because we both want to improve. Our instructor was blunt. T. does better with a more encouraging
style of teaching. He heard that
he was less competent than he thought he was and took that to mean that he was
less competent than he really is.
It took a couple of days for him to process what the instructor said
into something he could use, and even then he did better at applying what the
instructor told me to do. He made the
best of a less than ideal situation.
And next time I would choose a different instructor for him.
For me, the bluntness
worked. Sure, my ego hurt a bit,
but I came to the lesson knowing that I needed to learn and that I was not able
to figure that out by myself.
Bluntness saves time.
My point, and yes, there is one
in there somewhere, is that we, as learners have the responsibility to find the
lessons. When I am wearing my
instructor/trainer/teacher hat, I try to make those lessons fun and accessible. I do that by remembering that I am a
learner, too.