Like many families in Michigan this time of year, we recently had the opportunity to visit our cabin in Northern Michigan. While sitting on the deck admiring the lake at sunset, I shared with my husband that I was thinking about signing up for a marathon. I had already tackled several half marathons over the past few years, and felt I needed a new challenge as motivation to continue training. He replied, “I really admire the way you continue running. I know it isn’t easy for you, but you stick with it and keep getting out there.” It was a kind remark. I thanked him, and we continued to enjoy the peaceful solitude.
As I plodded along the dirt road the next morning, the conversation resurfaced. Although this run was half the distance I had covered two days earlier, I was finding it particularly challenging. Mid-stride, a thought popped into my head. I didn’t know that running wasn’t easy for me. It was such an odd thought. After considering it for a few more strides, I began to question its validity. Was running hard for me? It certainly seemed so on this particular morning. Was it possible that the very idea that running was hard for me actually made it more difficult at this moment?
That same morning, I had finished reading Warren Berger’s book A More Beautiful Question. Perhaps it was Berger’s influence that sparked the following question: What if the mere suggestion that something is difficult for us makes it more challenging? The more I began to consider the impact of this idea, the more I considered how it might influence my special education students in the classroom. Somewhere along their educational journey, someone has shared with them that reading and/or writing isn’t easy for them. Perhaps they themselves made this determination. I wondered how many times my middle school students had considered this idea before stepping into my resource classroom. Five? Ten? One Hundred? What if such considerations made reading and writing feel more challenging?
At this point in my run, I grew defiant. My pace quickened. This run might be difficult today. It may be challenging tomorrow and the next day. Maybe this is difficult for now…but it won’t always be.
Reading and writing won’t always be challenging for my students either. Their skill and intelligence is not fixed. What if we confronted this misconception together? In his book The Unschooled Mind, Howard Gardner outlines that one of the challenges of the educator is to “ensure newer disciplinary content supplants previously held conceptions or stereotypes that would in some way collide with or undermine new knowledge.” Perhaps Gardner’s challenge extends to the very way in which we view ourselves. Our own self-doubt or a Seth Godin would say “lizard brain resistance” may be the primary conception undermining our growth of new knowledge or skills.
What if we worked together to re-frame our beliefs? The idea that the power of suggestion might make something feel more difficult must mean that the inverse is also true. What if the mere suggestion that something is easy for us makes it more doable? I’m certainly apt to try this approach. With a growth-mindset, encouragement, passion, and grit, anything is possible… even a marathon.
As I plodded along the dirt road the next morning, the conversation resurfaced. Although this run was half the distance I had covered two days earlier, I was finding it particularly challenging. Mid-stride, a thought popped into my head. I didn’t know that running wasn’t easy for me. It was such an odd thought. After considering it for a few more strides, I began to question its validity. Was running hard for me? It certainly seemed so on this particular morning. Was it possible that the very idea that running was hard for me actually made it more difficult at this moment?
That same morning, I had finished reading Warren Berger’s book A More Beautiful Question. Perhaps it was Berger’s influence that sparked the following question: What if the mere suggestion that something is difficult for us makes it more challenging? The more I began to consider the impact of this idea, the more I considered how it might influence my special education students in the classroom. Somewhere along their educational journey, someone has shared with them that reading and/or writing isn’t easy for them. Perhaps they themselves made this determination. I wondered how many times my middle school students had considered this idea before stepping into my resource classroom. Five? Ten? One Hundred? What if such considerations made reading and writing feel more challenging?
At this point in my run, I grew defiant. My pace quickened. This run might be difficult today. It may be challenging tomorrow and the next day. Maybe this is difficult for now…but it won’t always be.
Reading and writing won’t always be challenging for my students either. Their skill and intelligence is not fixed. What if we confronted this misconception together? In his book The Unschooled Mind, Howard Gardner outlines that one of the challenges of the educator is to “ensure newer disciplinary content supplants previously held conceptions or stereotypes that would in some way collide with or undermine new knowledge.” Perhaps Gardner’s challenge extends to the very way in which we view ourselves. Our own self-doubt or a Seth Godin would say “lizard brain resistance” may be the primary conception undermining our growth of new knowledge or skills.
What if we worked together to re-frame our beliefs? The idea that the power of suggestion might make something feel more difficult must mean that the inverse is also true. What if the mere suggestion that something is easy for us makes it more doable? I’m certainly apt to try this approach. With a growth-mindset, encouragement, passion, and grit, anything is possible… even a marathon.