Tough Love

I started reading "The Last Lecture", written by Randy Pausch, a computer scientist who was dying of cancer at the time (and who has since passed away, but who did give a fabulous last lecture before he did). The guy really reminds me of me, or rather what I would like to be. He was smart and he knew it (read: arrogant). Chaotic and didn't care much about material posessions. Witty, and honest about his strenghts as well as his weaknesses. Likes cliches. One of the best lecturers in his faculty, but "being considered the best speaker in a computer science department is like being known as the tallest of the Seven Dwarves".

Most of the first half of the book is filled with descriptions of people pushing him forward by giving him honest feedback. His father, his football coach, his academic supervisor. The things they said or did were not usually nice. But they were just the right things to push him to become the person he eventually did. I have had many similar experiences, with the most painful ones having given me the most help when looked at in the long run.

He writes:
"When you see yourself doing something badly and nobody's bothering to tell you anymore, that's a bad place to be. You may not want to hear it, but your critics are often the ones telling you they still love you and care for you, and want to make you better."

The responsibility of an educator is to help his students advance. And, as I know from experience, being nice to the students and believing in them goes a long way towards that. And this tactic is fairly safe, as no harm will come to either you or the students. Being nice to everyone is the easy way to go. But it is not always the most efficient thing. Or the right thing.

Quoting Prof. Pausch again
"It's an accepted cliche in education that the number one goal of teachers should be to help students learn how to learn. I always saw the value in that, sure, but in my mind, a better number one goal was this: I wanted to help students learn how to judge themselves."

Giving honest feedback in a way that it actually helps the other person is tricky, however. "Getting people to welcome feedback was the hardest thing I had to do as an educator", Randy comments. You have to make sure that they are ready to receive it, do not interpret it as a threat to their identity and are willing and capable of changing themselves. To do it properly, you really do have to care for the person.

This only reminds me just how lucky I am with the friends that I have. They point out my flaws when they see them. Sometimes too early, so that I only later understand what they mean, and sometimes a bit late, as when I have already managed to hurt them by my ignorance. But what matters is that they do it. And not because they think badly of me, but because they care.

There is an analogue with massage therapy. There is the relaxing massage, that feels nice during therapy and for a little while after. And then there is massage during which you feel like screaming for half an hour straight but then feel more relieved and free than you have ever been and the feeling lasts for days or even longer. Undoubtedly both help. But given the choice, I would prefer the second.

With back massages, I also tend to give the second type. But with my students my approach to teaching tends more towards the soft, safe version. And the same is also true with my friends. They give me honest feedback, but I rarely manage to return the favor.

Part of it is the fact that I try to look for the good in people. The other part is that I actively repress, or at least used to repress, all negative emotions (anger, resentment, disappointment, disgust) concerning other people. It is only lately that I have come to realize that the feelings are there for a reason, and that they can provide invaluable information and insight if I only learn to listen. But it is hard, if you have a long history of pure denial behind you.

All this has also made me realize the true value of compassion, extolled as the highest of virtues by nearly all of worlds religions. Compassion is what allows you to take the negative as what it is -- merely a signal that something is wrong, no more, no less. Compassion to others helps you see the hurt and pain that causes them to hurt you. Compassion to yourself allows you to forgive you your own negative emotions and to let them be, instead of pushing them out. And it has also made me realize just how hard it can be to practice. Taiji does help, and most other meditative practices will probably do the same, but it is still hard most of the time.

Respecting others means also respecting their right to make their own mistakes (for who knows, what you think is a mistake might turn out not to be). Compassion to others means forgiving them once they have chosen to learn from those mistakes and try to do better. And not holding it against them if they take time doing so. This is the famous Parable of the Prodigal son.

Which of course does not imply you need to hold your breath waiting. Or that you need to have a cow ready to offer when the son does finally return. Life goes on, after all.

"Look, I'm going to find a way to be happy, and I'd really love to be happy with you, but if I can't be happy with you, then I'll find a way to be happy without you."
-- Randy Pausch to the woman he loved