Over the years, I've had to work on a lot of things. One of them is my levelheadedness and patience in times of conflict. Wow, has this been a struggle.
I'm very conflict-averse, by my nature. I'm much happier when people get along with each other, when they work together, when they respect one another's boundaries and don't force themselves, or their ideas, on anyone else. I'm very live-and-let-live. Unfortunately, not everyone's like that. Some people just have to have it their way, be it because they were raised that way, or because they can only function if they're the ones calling the shots, or for whatever reason. And when I'm around people like those, I get uncomfortable. Especially when they want to push my buttons.
A long time ago I was doing some research, and it led me to become familiar with a long-dead newspaper. Its founder's philosophy included the phrase, "We are against people who push other people around." That really hit home with me, and when asked to state a personal philosophy I've included some variant of that. I don't like bullies. I couldn't stand them when I was in school. I couldn't stand the people who were so full of themselves that they'd clobber anyone who made them upset for whatever arbitrary reason. They made my life awful all the way through grade school because I was a square, a nerd before being a nerd became chic. I remember getting the crap beat out of me on a school bus in fifth grade because the bus started moving before I could grab a seat, so I took the nearest available one...which was partly occupied by one of those full-of-themselves types who wanted the seat all to himself. And he started whaling away on me because I'd dared sit on his seat. Nobody did anything to help me, and I couldn't punch back because he was stronger than me and too fast. (But I didn't give up the seat.)
Over the years I've tried to work on the best way to respond to the bullies in life. In an ideal world, of course, you'd have the ability to beat them with a shovel when they tried something with you. But you can't do that, of course, and it wouldn't really be fair to do that in the absence of a physical threat. Instead, it's where remaining calm and employing wit will save you. I'm reminded of what was said about doctors: the reason a doctor doesn't immediately start swarming over you and going crazy when you present with a medical condition is because those 30 or 45 seconds the doctor spends quietly asking you questions and assessing your condition allows that doctor time to think through your problem and come up with the right diagnosis and remedy.
And here, I have to say, is where my work in teaching has helped me an awful lot. By its nature, teaching will expose you to all kinds of people, some of whom will try to push your buttons just for fun. There are types who like making the lives of young instructors complicated and miserable. At my first teaching job, they ruined it for me and made class sessions seem like a sentence instead of a job. But, over time, I learned to deal with it. I've learned, for instance, that the worst thing you can do when someone's reading you the riot act is to yell back at them; rather, one of the most devastating things you can do is keep calm, look straight back at them with a neutral expression, listen, and then when they've expended their rage, pause for a moment and say something along the lines of, "Is that it?" Holding my tongue, resisting the urge to yell back, and instead giving myself a moment or two to compose the right response has saved my bacon more than once -- and has the added benefit of denying one's opponent the response from you they want.
(It also helps in the occasional online dustup, too. For instance, sometimes you'll run afoul of someone without really meaning to start something. It amuses me no end when one of these online bullies comes after me, I calmly and politely call them on their act, and as the offender's level of fluster ratchets up I say "Look, I know what you're doing, and I'm not rising to your bait.")
I still have a long way to go. But I find it very interesting how people react when they yell and scream and get upset with me, only to find that, in response, they'll get at most a quizzical look and a calm follow-up question. It's something I've learned to do through difficult experience, but it's nevertheless a vital life skill. I just wish I'd learned it a long time ago.
I'm very conflict-averse, by my nature. I'm much happier when people get along with each other, when they work together, when they respect one another's boundaries and don't force themselves, or their ideas, on anyone else. I'm very live-and-let-live. Unfortunately, not everyone's like that. Some people just have to have it their way, be it because they were raised that way, or because they can only function if they're the ones calling the shots, or for whatever reason. And when I'm around people like those, I get uncomfortable. Especially when they want to push my buttons.
A long time ago I was doing some research, and it led me to become familiar with a long-dead newspaper. Its founder's philosophy included the phrase, "We are against people who push other people around." That really hit home with me, and when asked to state a personal philosophy I've included some variant of that. I don't like bullies. I couldn't stand them when I was in school. I couldn't stand the people who were so full of themselves that they'd clobber anyone who made them upset for whatever arbitrary reason. They made my life awful all the way through grade school because I was a square, a nerd before being a nerd became chic. I remember getting the crap beat out of me on a school bus in fifth grade because the bus started moving before I could grab a seat, so I took the nearest available one...which was partly occupied by one of those full-of-themselves types who wanted the seat all to himself. And he started whaling away on me because I'd dared sit on his seat. Nobody did anything to help me, and I couldn't punch back because he was stronger than me and too fast. (But I didn't give up the seat.)
Over the years I've tried to work on the best way to respond to the bullies in life. In an ideal world, of course, you'd have the ability to beat them with a shovel when they tried something with you. But you can't do that, of course, and it wouldn't really be fair to do that in the absence of a physical threat. Instead, it's where remaining calm and employing wit will save you. I'm reminded of what was said about doctors: the reason a doctor doesn't immediately start swarming over you and going crazy when you present with a medical condition is because those 30 or 45 seconds the doctor spends quietly asking you questions and assessing your condition allows that doctor time to think through your problem and come up with the right diagnosis and remedy.
And here, I have to say, is where my work in teaching has helped me an awful lot. By its nature, teaching will expose you to all kinds of people, some of whom will try to push your buttons just for fun. There are types who like making the lives of young instructors complicated and miserable. At my first teaching job, they ruined it for me and made class sessions seem like a sentence instead of a job. But, over time, I learned to deal with it. I've learned, for instance, that the worst thing you can do when someone's reading you the riot act is to yell back at them; rather, one of the most devastating things you can do is keep calm, look straight back at them with a neutral expression, listen, and then when they've expended their rage, pause for a moment and say something along the lines of, "Is that it?" Holding my tongue, resisting the urge to yell back, and instead giving myself a moment or two to compose the right response has saved my bacon more than once -- and has the added benefit of denying one's opponent the response from you they want.
(It also helps in the occasional online dustup, too. For instance, sometimes you'll run afoul of someone without really meaning to start something. It amuses me no end when one of these online bullies comes after me, I calmly and politely call them on their act, and as the offender's level of fluster ratchets up I say "Look, I know what you're doing, and I'm not rising to your bait.")
I still have a long way to go. But I find it very interesting how people react when they yell and scream and get upset with me, only to find that, in response, they'll get at most a quizzical look and a calm follow-up question. It's something I've learned to do through difficult experience, but it's nevertheless a vital life skill. I just wish I'd learned it a long time ago.
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