Tuesday, May 2, 2017

The Gift of Failure

Nearly all of the parents that I deal with as a high school teacher are great to work with. They are highly supportive of teachers and education in general.  Every once-in-a-while though, I come across a real piece of work. In this case, the “work” in question came to advocate for her son.  On the spectrum of kids I have taught, I would put this kid squarely in the “good” category. Also like most fourteen-year-olds I have taught, given the chance, he will sell future success in exchange for short term gratification faster than a doughnut disappears at a weightwatchers meeting. When given the prospect of working on an assignment and chatting it up with some pretty young thing, he is going to choose the PYT every time. Actually, that would be his ideal distraction but he will actually take just about any distraction that will keep him from bearing down and working something challenging.
In my class, assignments involve making observations about maps, charts or graphs. I ask students to turn their observation into a question that begins with “why,” venture an answer and then try to find evidence to support or disprove their tentative conclusion. Whatever they don’t complete in class, has to be done at home. Given the number of missing assignments this kid had, he is not getting much done in class. With thirty to thirty-five students in the room working on such a task, you can imagine that I can’t monitor this poster child for Ritalin every second. But that is exactly what this mother wanted. She apparently thought I would be a willing enlistee in her corps of hovering helicopter pilots.
I explained that there are things that I can and will do but “sit down with him” and “make sure he does the work” was not one of them.  I also declined when she offered to come to class and “sit with him.” Now comes the delicate balancing act of giving parenting advice without passing judgement, though I have to admit that judgement had been passed and a verdict rendered. I just don’t want her to know that.
I am interested in learning about the conditions behind optimal human performance so I have done a lot of reading on motivation and behavior modification. I draw on the work of Jessika LaHey (the author of the book that I stole the title of this article from) Carol Dweck, Angela Duckworth, Mihayli Chicsentmihayli, Stephen Covey, Daniel Pink, Daniel Kahneman, Paul Tough, Liz Wizeman and Tony Wagner, to name a few. Some of these are scholars and researchers while others have reported on the work of scholars and researchers. So, there is my bibliography, I hope you weren’t expecting parenthetical references. These are all compelling authors of compelling books. If you haven’t read them, you should. They will help you with all of your endeavors where humans are involved. 
Over the years, I have distilled the words of these writers and researchers into a kind of formula for motivation and eventual achievement. Here it is:
1.      Set high standards- The standard must stretch the individual beyond their current abilities but is within the “zone of proximal development.” In other words, meet them where they’re at (where else would we meet them?) and set a standard just beyond what they can currently do.  
2.      Allow the student, child, worker or whoever to figure out how they want to reach the standard. It is tempting to want to step in and offer help and advice when you see the inevitable flaws in the plan but it is important that you don’t. If you do, they won’t own it and they must own it.
3.      Provide reasonable support to help accomplish the plan. You can play a role but the principal architect of the plan has to be the principal player.
4.      Hold them accountable for the results. This usually means they will get something they want for meeting the standard or have something withheld if they don’t. This is where the process usually breaks down. Think about how often you are truly held accountable for your performance and how much more freakin awesome you would be if you had to account for your performance in the areas that matter most.
5.      Regroup and retry- Old dogs can learn new tricks but change is hard and we feel compelled to gravitate back to what we are comfortable and familiar with. That is when the accountability and support are the double-edged sword of justice and mercy. This is where you and your protégé look at what worked and what didn’t. This is where the steward accounts for the learning, growth, pain and struggles. This is where plan B is created and the process starts over until the standard is reached.
As I explained this to the snowplow parent, I could see that I was beginning to lose her at two, her eyes begin to gloss over at number three and she interrupted at four. She said, “I think what he needs is to just have someone sit down with him and make sure he is getting these things done.” I got the feeling that this mysterious “someone” she was talking about was me! So, in the spirit of misdirection and the aforementioned metaphor, I plowed on to number 4. “What does he love?” I asked? Her immediate and unequivocal response was “soccer.” I actually knew that. The various professional and club soccer jerseys he sports was the evidence I was going on. “So what if his participation in soccer was contingent on his performance in school?” I asked. She looked at me like I was speaking a foreign language. Then she said, “Oh, I couldn’t take that away from him. I don’t want to set him up for failure. I am looking for  a win-win.” Now how do you like that?! Not only was she using Stephen R. Covey’s words against me (albeit, incorrectly-poor Stephen R. is probably rolling over in his grave), she had the audacity to refute my wisdom.  That usually doesn’t happen until after the parent leaves my classroom.
I tried to press my point by saying that the reason she feels like parenting is a game of Whac-A-Mole, is that her son is not being held accountable for his work. I asked her if there were any consequence for his poor academic performance. Her consequence was taking away his devices temporarily but she said she gave them back after a short time. Probably after he made some measly effort and conned her into believing he had actually done something. I suggested that he wouldn’t comply until he had the desire and that wouldn’t come until he had something to work for. He shouldn’t get what he wants until he has met the standard. I bet she has no qualms making her husband do her bidding before he gets what he wants. It’s the same idea minus the Oedipus Complex.
Instead she is making her son into a pansy. Have you ever wondered why pansies, the toughest of flowers, are given as an emasculating label for men? I digress. From where I stand, this woman’s problem is that she doesn’t trust her son. She is afraid that if he fails, irreparable damage will be done to his precious psyche and quickly emerging ego. The seeming paradox of wanting him supervised yet not wanting to hold him accountable are two sides of the same coin. She doesn’t think he can handle failure. She, therefore, feels like she has to control all of the circumstances in his life and fight his battles for him. This is the definition of the helicopter parent or the snowplow parent who goes ahead of the child, clearing the path so they don’t have to encounter any hardship or difficulty.

It is natural for a parent to want to protect a child. But is my attempt to protect my child actually making him weak? In the book “David and Goliath” Malcolm Gladwell addresses this paradox. He cites one study of 699 “great” people. Over one third of them had lost a parent before the age of ten. Nearly half had lost a parent before the age of twenty. I am not advocating the we knock off a parent to facilitate the growth of our children. I think that applying the principles above will foster the grit we are looking for and no one has to die in the process. So, good luck with this parents everywhere. I am counting on you so that I don’t have to have many more conversations like the one described above.