The People Who Give us “Permission To Feel”
Co-authored with Robin Stern, PhD
Maybe you were lucky enough to have a mentor, teacher, or an elder in your life whose time and attention meant the world to you. Someone who helped to shape who you are today. If so, there is also a good chance that you are of an age that you can be that “elder” for a younger person — perhaps a neighbor, niece, or nephew.
We’ve all had dozens of people who influence who we are today — parents, teachers, coaches, and bosses. There are uncles and aunts and our best friend’s mom. But only a few of these people stick with us. Why?
Maya Angelou is known for the quote, “I’ve learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did. But people will never forget how you made them feel.”
The data bears Angelou’s insights. In our research at the Yale Center for Emotional Intelligence, we’ve asked tens of thousands of individuals about the teachers or mentors they remember — the people that made them feel safe, seen, heard, and understood. The people who gave them “permission to feel.”
We hear things like, “She cared as much about lighting a fire in us about science as whatever the particular unit she was teaching. She made science come alive and connected to our lives” Or, “He was an amazing storyteller. He brought us into the stories and used vivid descriptions to take us back in time, so we felt like we were experiencing historical events as they unfolded.” Or simply, “She just really cared about me. And she cared about my learning.”
Our own experiences also bear this out.
When I (Robin) was in junior high school, I had a teacher who meant the world to me. Marty was my student teacher in history who led student groups about social issues. As part of an internship, I spent considerable time with Marty after school preparing topics and question for those groups. We shared a concern about way kids in my grade were dealing with social challenges. During those times, we talked about my friendships and interests. And I talked openly about my emotional life. Differently than with any other teachers, Marty expressed his interest in me and my life in a way that left me feeling cared about and psychologically safe. He created the space and gave me the permission to be my true, full self.
In my (Marc) book, Permission to Feel, I talk about my unique relationship with my Uncle Marvin and the healing power of that connection. Marvin was an educator by day and a jazz band leader at night. He knew the power of moving his audience with emotion and music. Over time, he brought his insight about emotions into his teaching during the day, becoming a pioneer in social and emotional learning — my inspiration. During one visit to my home, Marvin noticed that I seemed sullen and inward. In fact, I had been having a tough time in school, where I was the target of horrific bullying. That day, Marvin sat with me in my backyard and was the first person to ask, “Marc, how are you feeling?” I’m not certain if it was Marvin’s vocal tone, facial expression, or presence, but I decided in that moment to share what I was going through. That one little question was all it took to change my life. It wasn’t just what he said, it was the way he said it, truly wanting to hear the answer. I really let loose that day. Uncle Marvin gave me permission to feel (and played a pivotal role in decision to become a psychologist).
In our research we find that some people have an “Uncle Marvin”, but many do not. We’re curious to hear your thoughts about the characteristics of the people who give others the permission to feel. Please take 5 minutes to complete this anonymous survey. In a couple of weeks, we’ll present the findings in a separate article.
