When the Truth Hurts
Post originally published at www.seekingthestill.com.
It was evaluation time, again. That wonderful time of year when I get to see exactly what my students think of me, no holds barred. 24 feedback surveys from last semester’s class. Fabulous results. Great scores. With the exception of 2 forms with hastily scrawled comments.
The instructor has an annoying habit of clicking her teeth at the beginning of her sentences when she talks. Instructor annoys me and ALL the class when she clicks her teeth. I find it hard to concentrate.
You HAVE GOT to be kidding me, the voice in my head responded. I have been teaching college courses for over three years with glowing reports. Nobody has ever mentioned this to me before. My stomach dropped, my face turned red, and I immediately went into defense mode.
I do not click my teeth. I would notice if I did something that annoying. I have won presentation awards and heard myself on tv and radio. There is no chance I do that. It must have been the students I caught cheating.
After about 30 minutes of stewing and brewing (yes, I admit that two little comments worked me into a tizzy — I’m obsessive like that), I calmed down and started thinking logically again. I had a class coming in 20 minutes, so I decided to put myself to the test. I was on hyper-alert for any teeth clicking. Smirk.
To make a long story short, when I go into “teacher mode,” I do indeed have this tendency to start my sentences with a click like I’m ticking off a checklist. I don’t do it in regular conversation or even when I give a presentation, but there it was like a slap in the face.
I made it through that class without one single “click” and made a promise to myself that I will never annoy my students that way again. After class I mentioned the comments to my husband, Justin who said, “Oh yeah, you do that on the phone sometimes, too.” If looks could kill, mine did. Who knew?
Since that dreaded incident, I’ve been thinking about why those comments cut deep. Why wasn’t I open to hearing feedback that in the end would make me more effective at my job? I’m convinced it comes down to ego. I spend so much time internally trying to inflate my sense of worth that critique hurts. Oh, but how willing I am to point out all the things that others do wrong! Perhaps not verbally, but my head constantly rings with criticism. It’s not a nice place to be.
So, here’s the thing. It can be difficult to know constructive criticism from hurtful criticism. One comes from genuine love and care. The other comes from dark places of jealousy, hatred, and fear. The real question we must ask ourselves is this: Will this advice or criticism make us more of who we are meant to be? Is there an element of truth, no matter how hard to swallow, that could help us move forward on the path God has given? If the answer is yes, think about it. Pray about it. Give it a test drive. If the answer is no, let it go and move on.
Some of the best advice I received while working in the corporate world was to avoid being a sponge with hurtful criticism. Be a duck instead and let it roll right of your back. If we were all more open to constructive feedback and more dismissive to hurtful feedback, the word would be better place.
Sometimes the truth hurts, but anything can be overcome in the spirit of love.
Laura Fleetwood is an author, communication specialist, and truth seeker. From practical to inspirational, her business mind and artist heart create a unique canvas where her narrative writing shines. With stunning honesty and insight, Laura delves into the deepest questions of life, faith and purpose. Join her quest to find moments of divine amidst the chaos of life at SeekingTheStill.com.