Translations
“You’re stupid!”
Possible translation: “I’m afraid I’m stupid.”
“This is a waste of my time.”
Possible translations: “I’m angry at you (or somebody else).” “I need to be seen and appreciated — and you’re not doing that.” “I won’t or can’t engage, but I refuse to tell you why — and I may not even know myself.” (Of course, this might actually be a waste of their time. Truth is always a possibility.)
“You’re wrong.”
Possible translations: “I can’t hear you — it’s too threatening.” “I fear you will not hear me, so I’ll shut you down first.” “Someone has to be right, and if it’s not me, it means I’ll feel ashamed or dismissed or hated or attacked. And I can’t abide feeling that way.”
“Why am I only hearing about this now?”
Possible translations: “I feel helpless and embarrassed that I didn’t know this earlier.” “I’d rather be outraged at you (the teacher) than at my child.” “I’m afraid that someone is blowing it, and it is NOT going to be me.”
“I hate this class.”
Possible translations: “I’m afraid — of this topic, of these students.” “I feel disconnected.” “I feel disempowered.” “I want to love this class and am deeply disappointed that I don’t.”
As with any language, translations depend on context. So it’s hard to know what bedrock underlies a statement without gathering some emotional and relational data about it.
(How to gather those data? One way is to make the flip.)
My point here, then, is not to get the translations right but to suggest that they’re there. Making a guess about possible translations changes the sense of an interaction and, therefore, changes the landscape of possible responses. And changing the landscape changes the situation.
Ideally, your translation — your good guess about the emotional or developmental need that undergirds irritating or off-putting or undermining content — dissolves the tension and makes way for desirable learning because