Two reading specialists normally worked with small groups of students in classrooms at the back of the school. After several days of heavy rain, water had seeped into both rooms. A large section of each floor was covered with standing water.
The rooms were unusable. The rooms presented serious safety concerns.
The principal told the specialists to combine and conduct their lessons in one of the two conference rooms that were sometimes reserved by teachers for meetings, student projects, and other activities.
A classroom teacher had reserved one of the conference rooms for a ninety-minute student activity. When the classroom teacher arrived and saw that the reading specialist was using it, the teacher found the other available room nearby, directed the students there, and started.
An half hour later, however, the class that had reserved that second room arrived. The classroom teacher and students now had to leave.
Already frustrated by the disruption, the classroom teacher approached the reading specialist.
“You and your students need to get out of this room,” the classroom teacher said. “We reserved it.”
The reading specialist explained that the principal had assigned them room for the day because their classrooms were flooded.
“Then go back to your regular classroom,” the classroom teacher replied.
“We can’t,” the reading specialist said. “There is standing water on the floor. It would be dangerous for the students, and we could cause additional damage to the room.”
“Then keep the students on the dry side,” the classroom teacher said. “You can stand near the water.”
“I could slip or come into contact with the electrical cords,” the reading specialist replied. “It isn’t safe for me either.”
“That would still be better than my students losing their room and you can’t expect me to move my class there. If you don’t want to do that, cancel your lessons for today.”
The reading specialist understandably felt attacked. The classroom teacher was not merely questioning the room assignment. The teacher appeared to be saying that the reading specialist’s safety mattered and the welfare of the reading students was less important than the inconvenience being experienced by another class.
That interpretation could quickly push the reading specialist into a fight response.
Imagine that you were the reading specialist and you were already in a reactive state, how might you respond to this statement?
“That would still be better than my students losing their room or someone getting hurt while we move all of our materials again.”
Would you defend yourself? Attack the classroom teacher in return? Point out the selfishness or cruelty of the remark? Would your response make the classroom teacher feel even more threatened, defensive, or determined to win?
The classroom teacher was upset. A carefully planned activity had been disrupted twice. Students were waiting. Materials had to be moved. The classroom teacher felt responsible for keeping the class under control and could not immediately see a workable solution.
There were no solutions that were going to leave everyone completely whole. The principal could have communicated that to everyone.
And none of that made the classroom teacher’s comments appropriate. It did, however, help explain them.
In a limbic mindset, people often lose access to perspective, empathy, and flexible problem-solving. They become focused on eliminating the immediate threat or frustration in front of them. The classroom teacher was no longer considering the safety of the reading specialist, the needs of the students receiving support, or the fact that no solution could give everyone exactly what they wanted.
When we are overwhelmed, we sometimes don’t have the skills or self-awareness to handle our emotions. The classroom teacher might not even have recognized the meaning of what had just been said.
Now imagine that as the reading specialists you had the skills and wherewithall that you were able to pause.
What if you recognized that the classroom teacher was in a limbic state and was not fully in control of what they were saying? What if you understood that the remark was not really a judgment of your value or your safety, but the response of someone who was overwhelmed and temporarily unable to see the situation from anyone else’s perspective?
You would not have to surrender, accept the insult, or place yourself or your students in danger. But you might be able to maintain the boundary without escalating the conflict.
How might your response be different from a limbic reaction to the classroom teacher’s statement?
When people speak to us from a reactive mindset, their words can be deeply personal. Sometimes they feel like a personal attack. But they also reveal much more about the person’s overwhelmed state than about us. And we can control whether we react or we respond.
Understanding that difference—and learning how to pause, reset, and choose a more resourceful response—is a central part of what MindShifting is all about.
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