Last week, as I stood on the perilous edge of a metaphorical cliff, I wondered whether I should take the jump. Should I hit “Publish” and expose my poor teaching evaluations to the world? Sure, I had written an in-depth reflection and reaction to my fall evaluations and outlined my plan for improvement. But, was I really ready to have the world know that my teaching didn’t cut it? Moments before publishing that post, I can remember consciously worrying about people’s reactions and decided that I needed to put my thoughts out there. I wanted to hold myself accountable for my evaluations and to make sure that I’d live up to a plan of action for improvement. As I clicked to publish the post, I figured that I’d deal with the criticisms later.
Here’s the surprising part. I didn’t receive a single criticism. Not one. Instead, I received emails from former students, texts from colleagues and a phone call from a former professor. While many were reaching out to make sure I was okay, most were contacting me to thank me for putting it out there. They admired me for taking the risk, showing my vulnerability and tackling my emotions so openly. It was not the reaction I expected.
I also wasn’t expecting the post to be viewed by hundreds of readers or be retweeted on Twitter as much as it was. In my moment of vulnerability, I took a risk and it resonated with loads of other teacher. One new faculty member even emailed me to ask if she could meet with me to discuss her Fall teaching evaluations so we could come up with a plan for improvement for her classes. The reactions were honestly pretty inspiring.
As I’ve been reflecting on last week’s post, I decided to reread a post I wrote on August 2013. Titled “the birthplace of innovation?” the post examines Dr. Brene Brown’s TED Talk on vulnerability and shame. In her presentation, Dr. Brown says:
“Vulnerability is the birthplace of innovation, creativity and change.”
While I definitely felt vulnerable as I wrote and shared my post, I also saw it as a route for improving my teaching and fostering personal change. While I worried about criticism, I should have kept in mind President Theodore Roosevelt and his moving words from Citizen in a Republic.
“It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs, who comes short again and again, because there is no effort without error and shortcoming; but who does actually strive to do the deeds; who knows great enthusiasms, the great devotions; who spends himself in a worthy cause; who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, and who at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who neither know victory nor defeat.”
Strive valiantly, my friends. Be willing to enthusiastically put yourself out there and to fail while daring greatly. I’m sure you’ll be as inspired by the reactions as I was.
Thanks to all.