Category Archives: Mental Hygiene

Twain on Training

I couldn’t resist the alliteration, even though this is about education (which many think is different from training).

“Covid Crazy” isn’t on the DSM yet (Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders), but I won’t be surprised when it appears. I wish I could remember who said, “We got used to staying home, and it’s like nobody wants to crawl out from under the blankets.” Most of us have days when that sounds good–the pandemic seems to have increased the trend geometrically. It will be fifty years before we even begin to understand the impact of the pandemic and our collective response to it, including how it impacted our happiness and enjoyment.

He’d be tarred, feathered, and lynched in today’s world, but my college psych professor was memorable for saying, “If rape is inevitable, you might as well enjoy it.” It is a horrible statement, but he was trying to make the point that we should approach things we have to do with an upbeat attitude. There’s probably a better example, but it was memorable. (I also remember him biting an apple and throwing it at the class.)

I taught a course years ago that aimed at increasing job satisfaction. Many people became so focused on hating work they were missing opportunities. It was/is a question of focus. At the time, I coined the phrase “ritualistic complaining.” One of the ideas behind the course was to get out of the habit of focusing on the negatives.

We’ve scratched on the surface of its effect on education, but education has had some systemic issues for at least fifty years.

I am often disappointed with how many students attend educational events with a “let’s get it over with” attitude. I’ve always believed part of my job is to make the experience enjoyable and meaningful, even for those who came with a “let’s get it over with” attitude.

Most people enjoy learning. A lot of education takes the joy out of learning. It’s also human nature to want to learn. If we didn’t, we’d still be crawling around on our hands and knees. There are a lot of Facebook users who never attended a class, but they are adept at using it. Some of those same people complain that they don’t get good training at work.

Mark Twain quit school when he was 11. He later said things like, “Don’t let schooling interfere with your education.” Another favorite is, “Some people get an education without going to college. The rest get it after they get out.” The longer I’m in the education business, the more apparent it becomes that the model could stand some improvement. He also said, “One can be both entertained and educated and not know the difference.”

(I’ve not vetted these quotes, but they sound like something he’d say.)

A proverb (not attributed to Mark Twain) suggests, “Ignorance is bliss.” It has some value as a coping mechanism. We can avoid unpleasantness if we hide under the covers and remain ignorant. Perhaps it would be more accurate to suggest we can avoid thinking about things we find unpleasant. It doesn’t change the things we are avoiding, but it does change our feelings about them. A non-clinical term for it is “sticking our heads in the sand.” If you’d like to go clinical, Google the Dunning-Kruger Effect.

I occasionally acknowledge I’m prone to being a crusader. I don’t think I have a messiah complex. I definitely have no desire to become a martyr; apparently, that often involves dying. But I just might become an education reformer.

“If ignorance is bliss, why isn’t the world happier?”

Mark Twain

Where You Fly Makes a Difference

One of my more fun presentations is a series of stories beginning with one young fellow who spots a dead rainbow. Rainbows are, of course about hope and so are most of the stories. Some of the stories are sad, and some are funny, but each leads to the inescapable conclusion that where we stand makes a difference. Sometimes it’s a difference to ourselves. Sometimes it’s a difference to someone else.

Two of the stories are about bullying. One is about a little guy named Rudolph who is a victim of some typical bullying. The story shows that when it comes to bullying, where you stand (or in this case fly) can make all the difference.

The story is told in a simple song published by Montgomery Ward in 1939. While it may not have been originally intended as such, it really is a song about overcoming bullying. We didn’t call it bullying back then, but today we probably would. Fortunately, I don’t sing the song, I merely recite it as poetry with some editorial comment.

“You know Dasher and Dancer and Prancer and Vixen,
You know Comet and Cupid and Donner and Blitzen,
But do you recall
The most famous reindeer of all?

Here’s a little experiment for you. Close your eyes and, without singing the song or reciting the line from “Twas the Night Before Christmas” try to list Santa’s Reindeer. You’ll probably find the song irresistible, but I’m betting the eight regular sleigh-pullers aren’t all that memorable. You don’t readily recall them, but you do recall the most famous reindeer of all. That’s significant. You recall him because…

Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer
Had a very shiny nose
And if you ever saw it
You would even say it glows.

Rudolph stood out in a crowd because he didn’t exactly fit in with the crowd. He wasn’t like the other reindeer. While we don’t know how old he was, he’s often pictured with very small horns suggesting he’s an adolescent. We know that “fitting in” is very important during adolescence, so there’s little doubt Rudolph was not a very happy reindeer. He probably hated his nose. And it didn’t help that the other reindeer were bullies who made fun of him.

All of the other reindeer
Used to laugh and call him names
They never let poor Rudolph
Join in any reindeer games.

Reindeer can be mean, can’t they!? And so can kids. It’s a complicated social dynamic, but a kid who is different—maybe wears a different style of clothing or has a different physical characteristic (a red nose?)—gets ostracized and maybe worse. Simply being ignored by others can be painful. Being the last one standing when teams are selected is terrible enough. But when they start to laugh and call names, the hurt and pain can seem unbearable.

I think it’s interesting that Santa apparently doesn’t take action. He could have started an anti-bullying program. Maybe created a stop-bullying policy and hung up some kindness posters in the barn. In fairness to Santa, we’re not sure if he knew what the other reindeer were doing to Rudolph. He was probably busy keeping an eye on the elves and all the kids. How else could he know if they’ve been bad or good? He clearly had plenty on his plate besides the milk and cookies kids often leave him. So we can perhaps forgive him for not knowing that his reindeer were being mean to Rudolph.

We might also wonder why the SPCA didn’t respond and try to protect Rudolph, although it’s not clear whether cruelty among or between animals is covered by their mission statements. They seem a bit more focused on human cruelty and neglect of animals.  Rudolph simply did not have much of a support system.

Let’s look at what did happen.

Then one foggy Christmas Eve,
Santa came to say,
“Rudolph, with your nose so bright,
Won’t you guide my sleigh tonight?”

The song doesn’t record Rudolph’s answer. I suppose he could have said, “The heck with you—why should I help after what I’ve been put through by those other reindeer!?” We only know that Rudolph was finally recognized as having something to contribute. Ironically, the very thing that had separated him from the herd became the very thing that gave him status. Instead of cowering in the corner of the barn, Rudolph became the leader of the herd. And the results of that change were significant.

 Then how the reindeer loved him,
As they shouted out with glee,
“Rudolph the red-nose Reindeer
You’ll go down in history!”

Consider what didn’t change. Rudolph didn’t get nose surgery and his nose didn’t dim. The eight other reindeer didn’t attend some anti-bullying intervention and suddenly become more loving and accepting.

Circumstances changed. It became foggy. (We could rightfully wonder how all of Santa’s previous trips were on clear nights, but that would spoil the song and story.)

What ultimately happened is, I think, most important. Santa does play an important role in the outcome of the story. He’s obviously more troubled over the foggy night than he had been regarding Rudolph’s status with the herd. That reality might put a little smudge on Santa’s image, but let’s be honest. He needed a solution to the foggy night problem.

And there was Rudolph with his nose all aglow—a solution to a problem. Santa saw him differently for the first time—not as a misfit reindeer with a defective nose. So, perhaps grudgingly, Rudolph steps to the front.  He had to raise his head so the glow would light the way. And in that moment—as is often the case with children’s stories—all is well! Everybody’s happy! Santa can make his deliveries. The eight bully reindeer no longer worry about running into things in the fog. They are shouting with glee!  In all of the picture books I’ve seen, Rudolph is smiling, and his head is held high, not just to light the way but because he feels valued.

The song doesn’t record whether or not the “other” reindeer change permanently. Sure, they were shouting out with glee, but that was because they were able to complete their rounds without hazard. The question that remains unanswered is whether or not they became any kinder and more accepting as a result of the experience. If another reindeer came to the barn with, say, a deformed antler, would they laugh and call him names? Would they let poor Bent Antler join in any reindeer games?

I don’t know.

One thing I am fairly certain of, though. I think Rudolph began to think differently of himself. While I am sorry for his pain, I’m also glad that no one stepped in and deprived him of the opportunity to do just that—to learn and discover who he was—uniquely and individually.

What we think of ourselves goes much further in defining who we are than what others think. A change of circumstances may trigger it, but the real change lies within ourselves. Our self-value beats a red nose or bent antler any day. Where we stand (or fly) makes a difference

Is It Really an Illusion?

Something to think about!

Or maybe we should start with a different question. Is it a coincidence that just last night–the day before Thanksgiving–I read an article on the topic of the Baader-Meinhof Phenomenon?

Before your eyes glaze over, more common terms for it are “frequency illusion” or “cognitive bias.” We can bring it down to an even more manageable level by calling it the “Red Car Syndrome.” If you buy a new red car, you suddenly notice red cars everywhere.

The author of the article points that frequency illusion easily affects our memory, potentially creating a bias. When we’re talking about red cars, it’s not much of an issue. Well, until we discuss the popularity of colors with a friend who just bought a blue car.

This can also harm relationships when we start noticing behaviors in a person. “She’s so bossy…” might be an illusion because we’ve only noticed her domineering behavior.

Our view of the world dramatically impacts our attitude towards it and our feelings about it. Frequency bias will reinforce the way we feel. It can work against us, but it also can work for us.

What are we going to notice today? If we notice things we have to be thankful for, the Baader-Meinhof Phenomenon suggests that we’ll see even more of them. It’s akin to seeing the roses instead of the thorns. Or it might even mean we are thankful for the thorns since they protect the roses.

The original article was published by “The Blackboard Bulletin,” a monthly newsletter written by and for Amish School Teachers. The author’s name is Sylvia. That’s all I know, really. Being a humble people, credits and copyrights aren’t much of an issue for them. I am thankful she wrote it!

National Suicide Prevention Lifeline

On July 16, 2022, the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline (1-800-273-8255) transitioned to an easy-to-remember, 3-digit number (988).

The 988 Suicide & Crisis Lifeline (formerly known as the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline) offers 24/7 call, text and chat access to trained crisis counselors who can help people experiencing suicidal, substance use, and/or mental health crisis, or any other kind of emotional distress. People can also dial 988 if they are worried about a loved one who may need crisis support.

The original number will continue to work. 988 is built off of that 10-digit number. Using either number will get people to the same services. In the end, 988 is an easier-to-remember way to access a strengthened and expanded network of crisis call centers.

In Maine, calls to the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline have been routed to the existing Maine Crisis Line since 2018. With Saturday’s launch of 988, the process remains the same — only the number is changing.

The Maine Crisis Line will continue to answer calls, texts and chats to the current 10-digit number (1-888-568-1112) and calls to the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline number (1-800-273-TALK), as well as answering calls to the 988 Line. Texts and chats to 988 continue to be handled by the national Lifeline support center.  Regardless of which number individuals dial, calls are answered 24/7 with free, confidential help and support for non-English speaking and deaf or hard-of-hearing callers.

That’s NOT Who You Are!

One honor I’m awarded annually is to serve as a judge in the Maine 4-H State Public Speaking Contest. Several years ago, I was wandering the hall during a break when I noticed a future presenter standing with her dad. Since it’s a friendly group, I greeted her and asked how she was. Her reply included, “I’m very nervous.”

I said, “No, you’re not.”

She countered, “Oh yes, I am. I’m REALLY nervous.”

I asked her name and then stated, “You are not nervous. You are Lisa. You are feeling nervous.” I’d distracted her, so she appeared less nervous and more curious. We had a brief conversation about the difference between who we are and what we are feeling and experiencing. I asked her if she had ever been sick. She confessed she had. “Well, again, you weren’t sick. You were Lisa. Lisa was feeling sick.” We practiced some other examples. “I’m Lisa. I’m feeling sad.”

She and her dad (who was really enjoying the conversation) caught the subtle difference in language. I closed it by summarizing, “So you are feeling nervous. When you give your presentation, remember that you are Lisa. You have worked hard and are prepared. Be Lisa who is prepared. It is okay to feel nervous but don’t let it interfere with who you really are. Feelings are energy. Be you and make that energy work for you.”

Unfortunately, I did not get to see her present—the luck of the draw, I suppose. One great thing about this contest is that judges are encouraged to give “feedback” to participants, so I didn’t break any rules even if I had judged her presentation. (Notice I would have judged her presentation. I would not have judged her.)

This year, I got to witness another example with a participant I was judging. She was better than good. Her presentation was actually about presenting—a creative touch. At the end, she started crying. She, of course, apologized and explained how much learning meant to her and how fortunate she was to have supporters and mentors.

In my judge’s feedback, I complimented her passion and admitted I nearly cried with her—that says much about the quality of her presentation. Her tears were not who she was, but they were a concrete and visible demonstration of how she felt.

This is not just about public speaking. It’s about communication. I recently had a heated discussion with a life-long friend. Fortunately, we were able to pause long enough to remember who we were and acknowledge how we were feeling. Then we were able to move past the anger back to who we were.

I offer you the same challenge I offered these two young adults. Remember who you are. Don’t forget that what you may be feeling isn’t who you are. And, as a bit of a bonus, when you “get” that, you realize that you need not be the victim of your emotions.

You might also create a bit of a game out of it. When you first see someone and ask them how they are, listen to the answer. They will tell you how they feel. “I’m really… tired, frustrated, happy…” You can reply, “I didn’t ask who you are. I know you are (name). But I understand you are feeling… tired, frustrated, happy…” (Be gentle, be nice, keep a smile on your face and in your voice.)

Be prepared for some interesting conversation about the difference between communicating who we are and how we feel.