Humble Pie

If I could classify my classroom to any genre of TV show, I would have to label mine as a soap opera. The love triangles that never seem to end and the drama that is produced within a week's span is incredible... The Deaf-Amish boy is in love with the Popular-Amish girl, who wants nothing to do with him. Meanwhile, SpecialEd-Girl is competing for Deaf-Amish boy's attention with the Other-SpecialEd-Girl in my class... all the while Deaf-Amish boy's best friend in the neighboring classroom is growing increasingly jealous over the amount of time Deaf-Amish boy spends eyeing up Popular-Amish girl with his new found friend Quiet-But-Sneaky Amish boy. The best friend then tries to get Quiet-But-Sneaky in as much trouble as possible.

Well, Popular-Amish girl has had enough of Deaf-Amish boy, and in an attempt to deflect his attention, she decided to flip him the bird. This was of course reported to me and I then decided to serve Popular-Amish girl some humble pie.

Now, for the record, I love this girl. She is smart, witty, and a hard working student. However, she knows this, along with the indisputable fact that she's rather good looking, and can't wait to start her partying years as soon as possible. Pulling her out of her high-ability math class in front of her peers in order to deal with the issue was one of the best ways to bring her back to the reality of her life as a student. One who sometimes makes poor choices. Though it wasn't pleasant to watch her fight back tears of embarrassment and shame, it gave me a sense of satisfaction helping her realize that there are consequences even for the pretty girls who think they're all that and a bag of chips.

Which got me thinking... how many times do I need to pulled out of my comfort-zone and served a slice of humble pie? Though I have never found myself included in the group of "mean-girls" or "popular-girls", those praised for looks and, well, all that goes with that... nor those praised for their notable and exceptional intelligence, I have received a fair amount of positive feedback on my teaching abilities and personable skills that I sometimes find myself thinking more of me than I ought.

Now, I'm not saying that the feedback was invalid (or at least I hope my evaluators weren't just telling me I make a good teacher to make me feel good!), but rather how I have processed the assessments and allowed them to puff up my self-concept has contorted the information from being a source of encouragement into a tainted pride.

How do you stop this from happening? As a person who wants to abstain from arrogance, what must I do to maintain a healthy sense of self-worth? The best I can muddle through this is understanding the need to be honest as well as remembering the times your humanity gets the best of you. You won't make the right decision every time. Inevitably, you will make a wrong one. Sadly, we're not perfect. As much as I would like to be and sometimes think that I am, I know (and must continue to know) that I'm not. This acceptance of imperfection is one of the hardest parts for me to swallow.

Humble pie does not go down easy.