I set a goal of reading 24 books in 2019 (about 2 a month), and it’s going very well so far! I have read 18 so far this year, so I’m a little bit ahead of “schedule.” (Granted, I have read 5 since school let out on June 19th, but whatever. I will take that as a success, as it means I adequately re-appropriated time I would have spent playing video games or drooling on myself or whatever. Mindset!)
Carol Dweck’s Mindset is a book I think many educators have heard of, and no doubt we’ve all been to at least one conference presentation or PD where someone was like “we want to do [this and this strategy/activity] to help students build a growth mindset!” (And then of course, we all nod sagely because mmm yes mindset.)
As evidenced by that last bit of snark, I had developed a bit of an eye-rolling reaction when growth mindset was brought up in those settings. Growth mindset sounds like a DUH sort of teaching thing, like DUH we should set high standards and believe that all students can reach them, and DUH our own potential as teachers can also grow despite challenges. It also has that flavor-of-the-month feel, sounding like a nebulous platitude that doesn’t necessarily change your day-to-day or give you ideas of what to do when things actually go sideways (kid cusses you out, a lesson is just bombing, your admin is laying the pressure on during an eval and you’re not sure what to do, etc.) “Have a growth mindset!” Ok!!! I did it!!! …now what?
I discovered something that maybe I had learned before, but apparently not well enough: it is so much more powerful to go directly to the source material, rather than hear (often diluted) secondary interpretations. And I am glad for having done this, because I think my processing of this book will help me become a better educator and a better person.
The gist of the book (my German irony senses are tingling) is that people face the many challenges and contexts of life with one of two mindsets: the Fixed Mindset, which says that peoples’ abilities and intelligence are innate and, well, fixed, and the Growth Mindset, which says that intelligence and ability can be developed through a commitment to teaching, learning, and appropriate challenge. Dweck illustrates how these mindsets play out in the realms of business, teaching, parenting, coaching, and even relationships to illustrate how they permeate every aspect of our lives, though mostly unevenly. For instance, a person in business may know they are lacking certain skills and recognize their need to gain experience from hard work and mentorship by others as they learn their trade. They then grow, and can be fabulously successful! That same person can be fixed in their romantic relationship, deciding that their partner and the relationship will always go the way it is currently going, and if it’s going badly, then the relationship was ALWAYS bad and should be allowed to self-destruct. (Two things: if a relationship has ALWAYS been bad after reviewing all the moments together, you should probably get out. But sometimes, all it takes is just telling your partner what you’re thinking and feeling. Mind-reading is not a thing, y’all.)
This all sounds great! Be growth-minded in every arena of life! Believe in change! Try hard! WOO!
But reading this text was actually a little painful for me, and I imagine it could be that way for others. Because in reading about people who typified the Fixed Mindset in their professional and personal lives, I sometimes saw myself. Not in an “oh god I have had a fixed mindset this entire time!” unmasked Scooby Doo villain sort of way, but in recognizing that there are situations and contexts in my professional and personal lives where I am triggered to a Fixed Mindset, and it holds me back from seeing and realizing my true self and true potential.
I’m realizing as I write this how wishy-washy I’m sounding in trying to let you know that I actually had an intense experience with a book/concept that I had perceived to be fairly wishy-washy. Ah! But I want to continue reflecting on how these mindsets have played out for me: now, and as the school year progresses. Here are three quick reflections I had while reading:
- “That Class.” This past year I had two classes that regularly drove me up the wall. There were certain characters in these classes that I had subconsciously given up on – in my mind, they were never going to participate in the way that I wanted, and their challenges that existed outside of the school building were going to persist in making school hard for them no matter what I did. We, as educators, don’t want to admit that we think that about any kid, but it’s easy to write off a class with something like “oh, that’s my High Blood Pressure Class.” I know we’ve all had those classes, and that I have to be patient and forgiving of myself. But I want to engage in active, constant reflection this coming school year to avoid falling into the thinking traps that caught me last year. What skills are my students lacking, and how can I bring them to practice and master those skills? Have I made clear to them why these skills are worth mastering? How can I engage my class in problem solving when things aren’t going to plan, so that they get a say in how they learn and I don’t have to generate every solution? This also plays into an idea I grappled with in Radical Candor by Kim Scott – how can I open the doors for honest feedback on my performance so that we all get better, every day? If I catch myself having a “That Class” next year, I want to do a thorough, honest assessment with myself of what is happening, so I can teach.
- Classroom Management Leader / Nervous Wreck. I took on a role this year that allowed me and a colleague to give a classroom management workshop over the summer, with the expectation that there would be follow up one-hour meetings during the school year to check in and practice skills. I take on leadership roles because I like being helpful and sharing – and things were going well management-wise in my classes the previous year. But I think having the role almost made me stop learning more about classroom management. I found myself saying “I’ve got this, I’ve got the skills to work with my classes,” but also running into moments where I, uh, didn’t “have” it. I felt like a fraud, because I had been given a neat title, but if anyone had come into my room, I may or may not have been compelled to lay blame wherever to overcome my feeling that things weren’t going as well as I wanted them to, and I wasn’t adapting. I’m a little bit more wary of taking on leadership roles as I transition to a new district and new school, because I end up letting them be a time suck, and if I do end up taking on any roles in the years to come, I want to enter with a boatload more humility. I want to maintain that learner’s stance, always.
- Singing and Writing – In my personal life, two of my greatest self-care outlets are singing and writing. I sang in choirs for 6 years, and have been writing poetry since I was 11 years old. (I’m also published, it’s fine.) But asked to present these “talents,” I freeze. I am so afraid of being judged – finding that my voice is unpleasant to listen to, that I don’t sound good singing songs that I like, that my writing is trite garbage. But at the end of the day, truly, truly, they are for me. Only me. I sing and write because it feels good. Now, if I decide that I want to be a pro at either, or even just perform either in public for fun, I will have to accept that people will offer their opinions on my performance whether I want them to or not. And I can either take those as value judgments, or search for nuggets of wisdom and constructive criticism, and grow.
I recommend reading this book for yourself, and pausing whenever you find yourself reflected in a description of a fixed mindset. It is hard to be honest with ourselves about these things sometimes, but I think that this specific hard pain can help us grow. And maybe at the end of the day, you’re very content with your life and will find it to be self-help-y junk. But the other possibility is that you grow.