A difficult class gives a lesson in student motivation.
I’m sitting here trying to convince myself to go to class. Class begins in two hours, and I am not ready. I have not studied. I have not finished the homework. Actually, I’m not even certain what homework I was supposed to do. I’m worried that the teacher will call on me and that I won’t be ready. I don’t want to be embarrassed. Again.
Maybe I’ll just skip class. Maybe I’ll drop the course.
Not being the best student in class is new territory for me. I have always excelled in class, and I expected to excel in this one as well. How wrong I was!
When I decided to go to Haiti this winter and learned I would lead a PDK trip to Amsterdam and Paris next fall, the time seemed right to brush up on my French. With seven years of high school and college French under my belt, the registrar suggested that I enroll in the intermediate section rather than the beginner. “You have had so much French, you will catch up quickly,” she said in her delightful French-accented English. My ego inflated; I jumped in.
On the first day, Madame immediately asked questions — in French — which she expected me to answer — in French! Hearing her speak French was exhilarating, and I was surprised how much I understood. I rediscovered the thrill of putting together a sentence in another language, saying it aloud, and having someone understand me. Il etait magnifique!
The more I became aware of my own deficiencies, the less I wanted to go to class. So I skipped class. First one, then another. Each missed class, of course, put me further behind.
But the euphoria of that first class faded in succeeding weeks when we began to conjugate verbs in the pluperfect and future tenses. I was lost. Somewhere in the recesses of my brain, I had the knowledge. I did recognize the verbs. I just didn’t know how to create them on my own.
Like every student everywhere, I know who the smart kids are and how I measure up against them. I wanted to crawl under the table and out of view when I did not know the answers. The more I became aware of my own deficiencies, the less I wanted to go to class. So I skipped class. First one, then another. Each missed class, of course, put me further behind.
Temporarily incompetent
A former boss of mine once told me that I was feeling “temporarily incompetent” as I struggled with learning the routine of a new job. That’s where I am again, adrift in unfamiliar territory, uncertain which way to turn. French class has stretched me in ways I could not have predicted. I have learned anew how difficult it is to be a learner and how badly it can feel when I can’t get something straight in my head. Why put myself in a situation that makes me feel stupid?
Unlike younger students, however, I have a lifetime of success that tells me that I will succeed if I try hard enough. I’m not stuck in the same mindset trapping so many teenagers who can’t imagine that life could ever be any different than it is now. Teachers and the other adults in their lives must show them how to hang in there. They must build for them a belief in a future they cannot yet see.
For myself, I will persist. But I will also change how I do this. Instead of floundering and staying in a class that’s too difficult, I enrolled in a beginner class. I want to build my confidence by remastering the basics first before I climb the hill to the intermediate class and beyond. Je ne pars pas. Je ne vais pas abandonner. I learned that in French class, too.
Citation: Richardson, J. (2014).The editor’s note: Motivation 101. Phi Delta Kappan, 95 (8), 4.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Joan Richardson
JOAN RICHARDSON is the former director of the PDK Poll of the Public’s Attitudes Toward the Public Schools and the former editor-in-chief of Phi Delta Kappan magazine.
