Day Six: You Can't Make Me
Lately, there's been a refrain in my life, echoing in my ears. Anyone who has ever worked with kids has probably heard this phrase. It might be in response to anything from "Eat your vegetables" to "Turn in your essays." Parents hear it, teachers hear it, camp counselors and pediatricians and babysitters hear it.
"You can't make me."
Variations of this phrase include the more childish "You're not my mom, I don't have to listen to you!" to its adversarial cousin, "Make me."
No matter what order the words come in, they all indicate the same thing: a desire to feel independent and uncontrolled. Everyone has this. You had this.
As an infant, no one had much say over what happened to them. You were pretty much a squishy bundle of hunger and poop, and your physical abilities were pretty much limited to stuffing your feet into your mouth.
But then time happened, and you grew up. You realized that your feet, in addition to being scrumptious chew toys, could be used for jumping, dancing, strolling along down the--wait, that's The Little Mermaid. But anyway. You learned to walk, and suddenly, you had some control over where your body was. Not total control, since you were still pretty dinky and thus easy to pick up and move, but more than you had before. Things improved from there.
Every kid goes through a stage where they begin to realize that they are their own person, and that they have their own desires and motivations. They stop being ok with just going along with everyone else's agenda. And this is a good thing; if humans didn't have this drive, no one would ever break away from the status quo, and we'd all still be living in caves, afraid of fire.
As a new would-be educator, though, I've recently been on the receiving end of quite a few "you can't make me"s, in one form or another. So, as sort of a cosmic FYI to every snarky 16 year old who wants to challenge my control over their actions, I have this to say in reply:
Of course I can't make you. I can't make anyone do anything, unless you count making a baby dance. You are a free and independent person with your own will and your own decisions to make. I have no desire to "make" you do anything. That's not what I'm here for.
I'll tell you what I am here for: to give you information. I provide you with different kinds of information. Some of this information is designed to help you become a better-informed human member of the world, like explaining to you what a verb is, and that Mark Twain is not, actually, still alive. Some of this information is to help you make a decision--like the information that this project is worth 20% of your grade, and if you make the decision not to complete it, you will also be making the decision not to graduate high school.
If you don't like the information I provide to you, don't blame me. I didn't make the world the way it is. I'm just trying to show you, as best I can, the truth.
If you choose not to learn the information I give you, don't blame me. Also don't apologize to me. I'm not here for me. I'm here for you. It doesn't hurt my feelings if you don't do the reading, it only hurts you.
As near-adults about to emerge from the chrysalis of high school and into the huge, messy, sticky jungle of "reality," what I want for you is not to be vessels of useless information, or parrots of my words and ideas; what I want from you is to have the tools and techniques necessary to become free-thinking, well-spoken, independent-minded individuals.
But it's your choice; I can't make you.
"You can't make me."
Variations of this phrase include the more childish "You're not my mom, I don't have to listen to you!" to its adversarial cousin, "Make me."
No matter what order the words come in, they all indicate the same thing: a desire to feel independent and uncontrolled. Everyone has this. You had this.
As an infant, no one had much say over what happened to them. You were pretty much a squishy bundle of hunger and poop, and your physical abilities were pretty much limited to stuffing your feet into your mouth.
But then time happened, and you grew up. You realized that your feet, in addition to being scrumptious chew toys, could be used for jumping, dancing, strolling along down the--wait, that's The Little Mermaid. But anyway. You learned to walk, and suddenly, you had some control over where your body was. Not total control, since you were still pretty dinky and thus easy to pick up and move, but more than you had before. Things improved from there.
Every kid goes through a stage where they begin to realize that they are their own person, and that they have their own desires and motivations. They stop being ok with just going along with everyone else's agenda. And this is a good thing; if humans didn't have this drive, no one would ever break away from the status quo, and we'd all still be living in caves, afraid of fire.
As a new would-be educator, though, I've recently been on the receiving end of quite a few "you can't make me"s, in one form or another. So, as sort of a cosmic FYI to every snarky 16 year old who wants to challenge my control over their actions, I have this to say in reply:
Of course I can't make you. I can't make anyone do anything, unless you count making a baby dance. You are a free and independent person with your own will and your own decisions to make. I have no desire to "make" you do anything. That's not what I'm here for.
I'll tell you what I am here for: to give you information. I provide you with different kinds of information. Some of this information is designed to help you become a better-informed human member of the world, like explaining to you what a verb is, and that Mark Twain is not, actually, still alive. Some of this information is to help you make a decision--like the information that this project is worth 20% of your grade, and if you make the decision not to complete it, you will also be making the decision not to graduate high school.
If you don't like the information I provide to you, don't blame me. I didn't make the world the way it is. I'm just trying to show you, as best I can, the truth.
If you choose not to learn the information I give you, don't blame me. Also don't apologize to me. I'm not here for me. I'm here for you. It doesn't hurt my feelings if you don't do the reading, it only hurts you.
As near-adults about to emerge from the chrysalis of high school and into the huge, messy, sticky jungle of "reality," what I want for you is not to be vessels of useless information, or parrots of my words and ideas; what I want from you is to have the tools and techniques necessary to become free-thinking, well-spoken, independent-minded individuals.
But it's your choice; I can't make you.
perfect
ReplyDeleteThank you for reading! :)
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