Tag Archives: Carol Dweck

Breaking the Habit of Excuse

I awoke this morning to an email from one of my online students. It began: “Certainly not an email I want to be sending to you, but it’s best to be transparent and let you know what’s going on. My grandfather committed suicide in the house we own just down the road.”

My most heartfelt condolences were quickly shared. Shortly after, I contemplated the irony of the theme of this article, which I have thought about for weeks: the nature of excuse. Aside from situations as drastic as this student and his grandfather, I am adhering to what I know to be true: students grow most when adults (teachers, but also parents) stop protecting them from accountability and instead create a culture where responsibility and high expectations are the norm.

The Myth of Teenage Exceptionalism

Too often, I have seen what might be labeled as “exceptionalism.” Instead of a clear recognition that everyone is busy, many students appear to think they are the only ones juggling academics, athletics, work, and everything else that goes with being a teenager. Excuses become almost like breath—involuntary, and often given when not even asked for, as if to absolve themselves of responsibility.

Another message this morning from a different student asked: “I still haven’t gotten a response from my partner. Because of this, I was wondering if the assignment due today could be excused?” Truly not understanding where he was coming from, I asked, “I’m not sure what you mean by ‘excused.’”

Extreme Ownership in the Classroom

Like any other teacher, I have heard (and continue to hear) a litany of excuses. In my stuent orientation this past semester, I made a point to share that students could “save the story.” I am interested in them completing the learning, not in whatever excuse they may have. Whether it is “I forgot,” “I had a basketball game that lasted late,” or “we had many tests this week,” I do not need to know the excuse. I simply need them to take ownership.

In an earlier post, I shared what Jocko Willink, retired Navy SEAL commander and author, calls “Extreme Ownership.” He writes, “Once people stop making excuses, stop blaming others, and take ownership of everything in their lives, they are compelled to take action to solve their problems.” Fewer excuses and more action—that is what I continue to encourage students to lean into.

Separating Explanation from Responsibility

In my expectation for students to take extreme ownership, I have needed to make a couple of shifts. The first involves blaming external circumstances. When students share how they are “too busy,” I do my best to help them understand, but I also separate explanation from responsibility. This is a big distinction. I do not simply say I understand; I ask, “Okay, what are you going to do next?” The idea is not to brush it off or fester in the mistake, but rather to make a plan for action.

Additionally, when I hear an excuse, I am now quicker to ask a question. For example: “What do you think your next step should be?” In the past, I often met a deadline excuse with, “Okay, just turn it in whenever you can.” Instead, I now ask students to make a specific plan for when and how they will complete the work.

Defining the Line: Reasons vs. Excuses

I still have work to do on helping students delineate between a reason and an excuse. The line is often blurred. Simply put, a reason explains what happened while maintaining the sense that the student will take responsibility for fixing it. An excuse, however, seeks to explain what happened so that responsibility can be avoided.

For instance, the student who asked, “I still haven’t gotten a response from my partner. Because of this, I was wondering if the assignment due today could be excused?” followed up asking if the zero on the assignment could be “taken away.” He likely was not looking for the response I provided, “Sure, the zero will be ‘taken away.’ Just as soon as the assignment is turned in.”

The Barbell of High Expectations

I believe accountability is a form of care. When expectations are kept high, students often surprise themselves. Education researcher John Hattie’s synthesis of over 800 meta-analyses found that teacher expectations have a significant positive effect on student achievement. Students often rise—or fall—to the level of expectation communicated to them.

I recently heard a podcast analogy comparing learning to weight training. If there is no weight, nothing gets stronger. The weight isn’t there to punish; it is there to develop strength. Students grow by lifting what challenges them, not by avoiding it. Psychologist Carol Dweck’s research on growth mindset shows that students develop resilience and motivation when they are expected to confront challenges. To skirt the barbell or make an excuse will not lead to more strength.

Furthermore, when students know we care and our expectations remain high, they stop asking, “Can I get away with this?” and start asking, “What am I capable of?” It is critical for a student’s life beyond school to learn that their actions have consequences. They almost always have control over their outcomes. This realization leads students to organize themselves, manage their time better, and solve problems independently.

An Investment in Agency

Though I have always held high expectations, this transition to “extreme ownership” arrived as I neared my third decade in the classroom. I am still navigating how to communicate and execute it. It is in no way meant to be uncaring or harsh; quite the opposite. It is rooted in care because it communicates belief. A belief that students are capable of adapting and moving forward.

I know students sometimes have “real” problems, and I want to be trusted to listen. Ultimately, I want to help them understand that, regardless of circumstances, they still have agency. Extreme ownership is about supporting students to develop the strength to face problems, not run away from them.

Holding the Line with Parents

What has gone unsaid is how this may be perceived by parents. I am fortunate to teach high school seniors, but it is still important to communicate the “why” to parents. Otherwise, parents are sometimes too quick to excuse their children. Recently, a parent requested her son be excused from the first five weeks of a sixteen-week course because he was busy with AP courses and a robotics competition. My knee-jerk response was a declarative, “No.”

The Lasting Impact of Ownership

Students do not benefit from a world that adjusts itself to accommodate their excuses. They benefit from adults who care enough to hold the line. I aim to hold that line while listening and understanding, yet still insisting that the student remains responsible.

I often tell my students that what they are learning has lasting impacts. Life will only get busier; they will always have deadlines and setbacks. Their response to this “whirlwind” will make all the difference. When they learn ownership, they carry something far greater than a grade. They carry trust in themselves. Long after they leave my classroom, and even if they forget my name, I hope that ownership remains. Quietly shaping the adult they become and the world they choose to live in.

A world of empowerment and beauty.

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Returning the Joy to Mudville

“Yes, please order a pair of gloves for my daughter,” the email response read from a parent of one of our middle school softball players. Her confusion in not knowing only one glove was needed to play the sport was similar to the memorable and mildly entertaining scene the first day of practice. Our equipment included several gloves and the girls put them on every way but the correct way. Backwards, upside down and even on their dominant hands.  Once this was corrected, they began to toss the ball from the mitt, akin to a lacrosse stick. This pre-test of sorts was perfect because as coaches, we knew exactly where the team was beginning.  

This was exciting. Known as America’s favorite pastime, none of the girls are from there. So, baseball or softball is as foreign as sepaktakraw was to me. Sepaktakraw, originating in Thailand, is much like volleyball but only with your feet! Such clarity of unfamiliarity was extremely refreshing. No knowledge would be taken for granted. Further, how rewarding to share the diamond with children that show up three times a week, simply eager to learn and play a “new” game.  The concept of ego nowhere to be seen nor felt on the field.  This beginnerdom, a melding of earnestness and joy, connects well with being a new teacher, yet the actual experience may run counter. 

Death by a Thousand Paper Cuts?

This past week I chatted with a relative of mine who nobly joined the educator ranks within the last year. Before hanging up I pondered the probability of a first year teacher self-reporting that teaching is easy.  Leslie Gray Streeter  of the Washington Post writes about educators, “They’re more than the people who give math and science lessons: They might find themselves makeshift social workers to troubled students, surrogate parents checking if children eat, security guards breaking up fights and funders of the most basic of classroom supplies from their own shallow pockets.” Though the later may not so much be the case for teachers in independent schools or those working internationally, other roles surely are assumed.  As coaches and advisors, but likely also participating on  a slew of committees and assuming other duties. In effect, being extended so thinly that maybe even the phrase,“death by a thousand paper cuts” applies.  Literally, it is all the small actions added up which leads to “the bleed.”     

Undoubtedly the pandemic negatively impacted educators’ experience.  Safety measures and lack of trust high on the list of unfavorable factors, as was adapting to emergency, remote, and hybrid models of education. Surveys and polls the past 18 months align with what is termed the Great Resignation.  Some predict an exodus so great that anywhere from one-fourth to more than half of U.S. educators  are considering a career change. Such potential crisis is not mirrored in international schools, however the start of 2022-23 academic year is already positioned for far greater mobility than seen the last few years.

Mindset Atop the List

Several reasons drive the decisions of teachers to switch careers. However, for teachers who are just beginning, why couldn’t their introduction to teaching be like the girls on the softball field? Frustration simply cannot take hold. Carol Dweck, a well-respected researcher in the field of motivation cites a poll of 143 creativity researchers, who concur that mindset ultimately tops the list of creative achievement.  And to educate is clearly to be a Creative.  No one, first year teachers included, must assume a sense of failure.  Yet, seldom do we “get things right” the first time and there remains inordinate power in reframing failure as something positive.  An example I often allude to, is learning to walk. Close to the ground, we as toddlers bounced off our backsides. Without even thinking, we simply popped back up and attempted to put one foot in front of the other.  A fine balance.  Akin to teaching! The mentality clearly one of, “I got this.”  Dweck contrasts fixed and growth mindsets by saying, “In one world (fixed), effort is a bad thing. It, like failure, means you’re not smart or talented. If you were, you wouldn’t need effort. In the other world, effort is what makes you smart or talented.” A network of support and both strong leadership and mentorship are essential for first year teachers to want to sign up for year two. Though it is not enough alone, to claim a teacher just needs to adjust their mindset or try a little harder, however resiliency definitely needs to be in the line up. 

Play Ball!

As far back as 1888, Casey at the Bat, appeared for the first time in the San Francisco Examiner.  The first 12 of the 13 stanza poem foreshadow Casey’s success at the plate.  Yet, a twist comes the final line, “But there is no joy in Mudville—mighty Casey has struck out.”

Failure.

Though the poem may have been about letdown, it might help to examine it from another angle.  Of its success. After Ernest Thayer authored Casey at Bat, a stage actor and comedian, by the name of DeWolf Hopper made the poem somewhat of a national heirloom. For nearly five decades Hopper performed it, upwards of 10,000 times. He just kept “hopping up.” 

A similar spirit of just hopping up is to be assumed by teachers. 

Batter up!  

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