Last week one of our writers, Caitlin, wrote about becoming unafraid to fail. It was a great article, and one point that really stood out to me was that she was often afraid to raise her hand in class for fear of being wrong.
I understand this completely. I used to be the girl who raised her hand high for every question and was heartbroken when I wasn’t called on. When I say used to be the girl who raised her hand. . . I mean elementary school. Then in middle school, something snapped in me, and I became terrified to speak in class, much less raise my hand. After reading Caitlin’s article, I realized it was because I am terrified of being wrong!
I can not pinpoint a specific moment in my life that flipped that switch, but I can recall many flashbacks to times when I was called on in class and did not know the answer. I am sure this has happened to everyone at some point in their educational careers. Maybe you had spaced out and got caught off guard, or maybe you just legitimately did not know the answer.
Some people take this in stride. They simply say they do not know and are unphased by the teacher’s mildly disappointed expression. I am not one of these people. If I got an answer wrong, it would be all I could think about for the rest of the day. My face would turn red, and it would feel like my heart dropped into my stomach. Now is this a proportional response to the very human practice of being wrong? No. But acknowledging that did not change the way I felt.
By the time I got to college, I found myself becoming completely unwilling to raise my hand in class. There would be long moments of silence as the professor waited for a volunteer, and even though I was certain I knew the answer, my hands would stay glued to my side.
In my freshman year, a lot of my classes had a participation grade. Along with being scared of being wrong, I am also extremely conscious of my grades. In my mind, to quote Spencer from “Pretty Little Liars”, “B is for bad.” There is a rational side of my brain that laughs at this and acknowledges that grades are nowhere near the most important thing in life, but that voice rarely wins.
One day I was emailing one of my favorite professors, and I decided to add a note to the end essentially apologizing for not raising my hand in class. I wanted her to know I was working on it, and that my lack of participation had nothing to do with me not paying attention.
She responded and told me not to apologize. She said my participation would be fine. Then she said this:
“How will you educate the world with your heart and mind if you don’t speak up?”
This meant the world to me that she had put so much thought into what I had said to the point where I keep this quote on my wall.
I would love to transition here into telling you how I overcame my fear. That I accepted the chance of occasional wrongness in exchange for the chance to educate the world through my heart and mind. While I hope to accomplish this someday through writing, as of right now it will be through sharing in class.
So reader, let me give you the advice that I have been attempting to impart to myself for a lifetime. Raise your hand. Let your voice be heard and make it be loud. Be confident in what you know, even if you don’t think you have a right to be.
Correctness be dammed, raise your hand.