Confusing Kindness
I just got back from a drive into town. While I was waiting to pull out of the driveway of a business I had patronized — wanting to cross traffic to make a left turn — a car to my right stopped well short of me and waited. So did I. I waited for the traffic coming from my left to clear, then I looked at the car to my right, the one that had stopped, and waited for it to make the (left) turn into the driveway I was trying to get out of. That car didn’t budge, even though it had the right of way. I kept waiting and then, finally, just decided to bolt out in front of that car. Cuz it seemed that we would be waiting there forever.
I was like,
“What the hell?!?”
While the person in that car was probably like, “Here you go! I’m letting you go first because I’m kind and I love you!”
And I’m like, “That kind of kindness — the kind that breaks the rules that are meant to keep us safe — the kind that stops in a left-hand turn lane and makes everyone guess whether or not you’re going to move or stay put, while all of us are driving heavy-duty death machines — is very confusing to me.”
So what does this have to do with teaching? A lot, I think. I think kindness can be confusing when students just need teachers (and parents) to do what they’re supposed to do. What reality dictates. Like
giving me a zero for work I did not do.
telling me when my writing is unclear or sub-par or just plain bullshit.
focusing me on my process rather than my product.
not gushing when I do something well — especially if it comes naturally.
expecting me to do my own work (that is, not doing it for me).
holding me to deadlines and other limits and trusting that I can survive the consequences of my own actions.
holding me to high standards and expectations while offering scaffolding I can (and will) use.
telling me when I’m just flat-out wrong.
Saying “NO” when the answer is NO.
Thing is, confusing kindness is not just confusing. It can be developmentally dangerous (if you agree with me that narcissism and entitlement are not desirable). At the very least, confusing kindness can teach students that reality doesn’t apply to them. (Because they actually know that they didn’t do the work or that they bullshat on that paper. Right? It’s confusing when a teacher pretends they don’t know. For the sake of — whom?)
I’m not grousing about kindness itself. Far from it: I actually think authentic kindness, the kind of kindness that sees clearly and tolerates lovingly and deeply respects boundaries and differences and mistakes and failings and cares about the wellbeing of all people, is draining out of our American world. We need it back.
(And teachers can — indeed must — do all of the things in the list above kindly.)
What I’m grousing about is kindness that confuses because it breaks the rules of shared reality. The kind of kindness that
gives what is not needed.
That avoids what is needed out of fear or self-protection or privilege or just plain obliviousness.
I mean, for god’s sake: When you have the right of way, take it. Follow the rules and get out of the way. So that I can get on my way. This is true for drivers; I believe it is also true, maybe even more so, for teachers.
Mantra?: Own your right of way. For the common good.