On empathy
Sep. 22nd, 2011 08:35 pmWe are finally - FINALLY! - getting started, testing the kids' reading speeds. Most of them take it in stride, although some of the sixth graders are already displaying the stigmata of test anxiety. They jiggle so hard it shakes the table, make silly errors, get fuddled in their words and pinched about the face as they read. It hurts.
"Ready?" I say. "Take a deeeeeeeeeep breath."
Sometimes it helps, and sometimes it doesn't.
I can feel myself falling into the attitude that so irritated me, sometimes, when I was younger (and sometimes irritates me still, when older people direct it at me): seeing and bleeding for the child's pain, thinking that there's something, or ought to be something, that I can do to stop it, and believing that I understand. Understand better than they do, even.
There is something infinitely condescending about believing that you understand someone else - someone you hardly know, yet - as if they were uncomplicated and could not contain multitudes. I know too many people who pride themselves on their empathy, and occasionally take it upon themselves to explain to me how I feel, except that they're totally wrong.
Sometimes I doubt the value of empathy. Not only does it lead people astray, so they believe they know how you're feeling and don't ask, but it also paralyzes them: they feel other people's pain so strongly that they can't bear to be there when other people hurt. I don't see that it doesn't anything that sympathy can't do better and at less cost. Sympathetic people don't take it as a personal affront when you tell them that, actually, they don't understand nearly as well as they think they do.
Fortunately or unfortunately, I don't feel this rush of fake understanding with the kindergartners and second graders that I'll be working with. I find them adorable but slightly perplexing, especially the kindergartners: it's impossible to hold a coherent conversation with them, as they won't stay on topic for more than a couple of sentences. This is going to make teaching them - interesting.
"Ready?" I say. "Take a deeeeeeeeeep breath."
Sometimes it helps, and sometimes it doesn't.
I can feel myself falling into the attitude that so irritated me, sometimes, when I was younger (and sometimes irritates me still, when older people direct it at me): seeing and bleeding for the child's pain, thinking that there's something, or ought to be something, that I can do to stop it, and believing that I understand. Understand better than they do, even.
There is something infinitely condescending about believing that you understand someone else - someone you hardly know, yet - as if they were uncomplicated and could not contain multitudes. I know too many people who pride themselves on their empathy, and occasionally take it upon themselves to explain to me how I feel, except that they're totally wrong.
Sometimes I doubt the value of empathy. Not only does it lead people astray, so they believe they know how you're feeling and don't ask, but it also paralyzes them: they feel other people's pain so strongly that they can't bear to be there when other people hurt. I don't see that it doesn't anything that sympathy can't do better and at less cost. Sympathetic people don't take it as a personal affront when you tell them that, actually, they don't understand nearly as well as they think they do.
Fortunately or unfortunately, I don't feel this rush of fake understanding with the kindergartners and second graders that I'll be working with. I find them adorable but slightly perplexing, especially the kindergartners: it's impossible to hold a coherent conversation with them, as they won't stay on topic for more than a couple of sentences. This is going to make teaching them - interesting.
no subject
Date: 2011-09-23 03:26 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-09-23 03:13 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-09-23 03:51 pm (UTC)Or possibly the people who think teaching kindergarten is easy have forgotten how much actual teaching goes on? There's a lot less play time than preschool.
no subject
Date: 2011-09-23 03:59 pm (UTC)We learned our letters.
We learned to count higher than ten.
We learned how to be a more civilized human animal. Now kids enter kindergarten already reading! They've been in daycare or preschool, so they're more socialized, too. THAT, I think, is where that bias comes from.
no subject
Date: 2011-09-23 03:17 pm (UTC)It reminds me of a Laurie Anderson performance piece in which she talks about going to palm reader who gets all her personal details wrong, so that she (Laurie Anderson) begins to feel like her hands are stolen documents.
(Okay, maybe the connection is hard to see, but it's the notion of someone telling you something about yourself with all confidence, and yet being wrong)
no subject
Date: 2011-09-23 03:55 pm (UTC)Also, the stolen-document-hands has great creepiness potential. Have you seen Minority Report? One of the characters has to get new eyes so he won't be identified.
no subject
Date: 2011-09-23 04:02 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-09-25 12:07 am (UTC)Now that's a fact. I think the best part about holding a conversation with kids (especially ones that age) are how incredibly serious they are.
no subject
Date: 2011-09-25 12:39 am (UTC)