Borrowing the words of Paul the apostle, I implored this woman, but she refused to budge. She kept insisting that her 17 years of teaching experience made her an authority. As gently as I could, I acknowledged her wealth of experience but maintained that it didn’t necessarily mean she had encountered every possible circumstance with children. I shared that I come from a family of teachers, and my own mother has been in the profession for over 30 years, earning her veteran status.
She called me back one morning as I was leaving the class after dropping off my son. As I settled into the seat in front of her desk, she shared some observations and concerns about the boy. I listened attentively and attempted to explain some peculiarities about him that she wasn’t aware of, but she argued. I told her that I valued her insights because they helped us as parents understand aspects of our children’s behavior that they often only display at school. In the same vein, I expected her to listen to me to gain perspective from the home front.
For instance, she was concerned that he was too quiet and dull in class, but wouldn’t agree when I told her he was the exact opposite at home. So, I chose to concede the argument, and as weeks went by, he became more active in class. She even joked that “this your boy wants to kill me for my husband”! I deliberately avoided sitting down to hear her complaints for several weeks, hoping she would calm down and be more receptive to my perspective as the boy’s father.
Many of us, as professionals, coaches, consultants, pastors, experts, counselors, and so on, fall into this trap. We let our years of experience become a barrier to continuous learning. There are always new perspectives and insights to gain, but we often press on with our own opinions and experiential ego, perhaps subconsciously. Doctors, for example, don’t rush to prescribe treatment without first asking a series of questions. Beyond sharing opinions and thoughts, asking the right questions is a hallmark of a true professional. We can never know too much to stop learning.
Your Co-Traveler, Mister Maple
