I walked out into the hallway and met the parents in the waiting area toward the front of the building. I invited them to follow me with a smile and a “Come on down!” worthy of Bob Barker. Each parent made idle small talk as we made our way back to my classroom, making reference to the weather, apologies for the late evening and, in one case, commenting about feeling like they were meeting their executioner. I laughed at that last comment and reassured the mother that she had nothing to worry about, but I’m not sure she was convinced.
The classroom where I teach religious school is set up differently than most. Four rectangular white tables stand on light green area rugs in the business half, surrounded by grey auditorium chairs. The other half includes two charcoal grey couches that look softer than they are, plus a row of three cushioned lounge chairs. The chairs and couches sit in a U around a set of small turquoise coffee tables. In fact, the only obvious sign that the room is part of a school is the large green chalkboard that takes up most of one of the walls. The furniture provides a more relaxed atmosphere for my students, which is critical for helping them to maintain their focus; if they’re already taking time away from their increasing loads of homework or their precious moments to relax from school and other activities, at least they can be comfortable doing it.
Each parent took their seat at the white tables when they came in for their individual meetings. I described the structure of my classes, the different contexts in which I interact with the students and the material we’ve been covering. I told each parent about my experiences with their children and offered some silent prayers of thanks that the parents knew their children well enough to not be surprised by anything I told them. One by one, the parents listened to me tell them about their children and nodded along, chuckling whenever I commented, “I’m sure none of this is news to you.”
Speaking about my students was the easy part of each conversation. There was never any question about their abilities, their interest levels or their participation in classes.
I was less prepared, though, for the feedback I got.
“She loves your class. She talks about it every time when she comes home.”
“She really enjoys your class. She says you’re a great storyteller and that you make everything interesting.”
“He hated school for years and years. And then, last year, he had you for a teacher for the first time. You challenged him, you engaged him and, even if he still doesn’t love school, he loves you.”
I was floored.
I know that my students enjoy my classes. I can hear the ways their voices change when they know the answers and I can see the looks on their faces when they have something thoughtful to say. Even when they’re talking too much, I’d still prefer the noise over a group of silent, withdrawn kids who need to be pried open like the jaws of life freeing a trapped passenger.
But I didn’t realize how it would feel when I heard the confirmation. The combination of happiness, validation and just plain relief flooded through me, leaving me unable to do much besides smile. That brief and simple phrase – “You’re doing a great job” – made such a difference in my feelings about teaching. It reinforced my commitment to my students, provided a boost to my ego that I hadn’t realized I needed and, most importantly, silenced the nagging voices of self-doubt that we all struggle with from time to time.
So, in the interests of paying it forward, let me say the same to you, my readers. Whether you’re a teacher or a stockbroker, a stay at home parent or an attorney, or if you fall anywhere else on the career spectrum, please just take a minute to breathe. Let yourself relax and experience the same feelings of contentment and support. Shake out the tension from your fists, your shoulders and your jaw. Exhale and allow yourself to just be.
Because, whatever you’re doing, you’re doing a great job.
I have to give major credit to Biz Ellis and Theresa Thorn, the wonderful women at the One Bad Mother Podcast and authors of You’re Doing a Great Job!: 100 Ways You’re Winning at Parenting, for helping me to realize the power of the phrase, “You’re doing a great job.” I’ve used it with clients, fellow parents, coworkers and anyone else who seems to need some encouragement. People need to hear that they are seen, that their actions matter. The phrase itself is simple, but the impact it has is anything but.
