“Knock, Knock…”
“Who’s there?”
“Interrupting cow.”
“Interrupting c…”
“MOOOOOOOOOO!”
Today, I finally finished analyzing the data for my teacher training BA thesis. The data was a videotape (an actual, old-school videotape – I’m not kidding!) of a 75-minute process drama session I taught a few weeks ago. Despite the fact that I wasn’t analyzing my own behavior as such, I did have to watch myself teach that specific process four or five times.
Talk about reflecting on your behavior. Eugh.
Mannerisms
One of the painful, painful teacher mannerisms I seem to have is that I keep talking long after I was supposed to shut up. Case in point: I’ve given instructions for a small group discussion in roles, and the students have started talking. And then I think of something important about the instruction and shout it out, thereby interrupting everyone’s conversation and/or their chain of thought.
If they managed to start working without that tidbit of encouragement, they would have made it to the end without it, too. Or they would’ve asked.
And that’s another mannerism – answering every single question. Even after the most detailed and thorough set of instructions, when groups start working, someone asks “so what was it we were supposed to do?” and the group negotiates the rules all over again.
I know this.
However, while teaching the drama process, I seemed to have completely forgotten that there is such a mechanism as peer negotiation. As a result, I watched myself give needless advice over and over again. Another flavor of talking when you’re not supposed to. Augh.
There were more. Oh, the cornucopia of painful mannerisms I noticed in my behavior while watching the video. The fidgeting, the stuttering, the delightful habit of starting each sentence with “umm…”, and all others. Ouch. Ouch.
Reflections, again
It’s often highly painful to watch or listen to yourself on tape. The elegant, sophisticated I transforms into an irrational, unpredictable That. Small quirks turn into monster mannerisms when you see them through someone else’s eyes for the first time.
This is also why it’s so useful to watch or listen to recordings of your speech or other behavior. So much of it is unconscious and automatic that it’s nearly impossible to understand just how extensive some of the mannerisms are.
On the other hand, it’s very reassuring to see yourself acting calm, cool and collected in a situation where you know you were on the verge of a nervous breakdown.
And then there’s the learning part.
By making an experience conscious by reflection, and then finding common denominators between different situations by analysis, you can turn any experience into a learning experience. (I apologize for using that phrase, but it’s really the only expression that truly grasps the meaning.)
Speaking of learning experiences:
A few years back, there was a guy on Late Night with Conan O’Brien who had sold a large percentage of his skin as ad space. In other words, he had taken ads as tattoos on his body for money. It turned out in the conversation that he’d actually received, in total, a fraction of the price that advertisers pay for air time on a Late Night commercial break.
When Conan O’Brien asked him if he regretted doing it, he answered, “No, I mean, it’s been a learning experience for me, definitely.”
And that’s when I felt sorry for the guy. Because honestly, what situation is he learning for? The distant future when he gets a second skin to sell to advertisers? To each his own and all that, but I have to wonder – was he really happy with his decision, or did he just feel he had to say so in front of the camera?
I’m sure he learned something, eventually. It would’ve been interesting to hear what, exactly, had he learned about it, and how he was going to apply his new knowledge in the future.
As far as my own annoying, interrupting cow -erisms, my goal for the rest of the spring is to practice silent listening and concise instructions. Fortunately, I still have some skin left to change my behavior.
Thank you for stopping by again. If you come up with a situation the ad-tattoo guy could be learning for, or if something else struck your insighting-bone, feel free to comment.
Until next time – keep catching those insightings!
Love,
Sari
Oh! I know what you mean about seeing yourself on tape. I used to cringe at every podcast I did, and then every speech.
Meanwhile, given that I have a tattoo (non-advertising, I hasten to add), and have plans to have more, I’m only too aware of the complex process involved in choosing to permanently ink the skin. My various piercings could be removed (and mostly were), but tattoos are so very permanent.
You have to wonder what he was thinking.
The great thing about seeing yourself on tape is that you don’t really see the thought processes that you know went on inside your mind. Comments that seemed like a huge deal in the situation shrivel into just, well, comments. It almost looks like all the others have similar kinds of processes going on at the same time.
At least for me, the biggest benefit was seeing, once again, that from the outside, I seem like a regular person. This is a wonderful realization and a horrible one. Ah well, I think I’ll live. 🙂