Showing posts with label asking for help. Show all posts
Showing posts with label asking for help. Show all posts

Tuesday, February 28, 2012

"Can't Everyone Just Shut Up and Let Me Work?": How to Communicate During Those Monster Project Periods

(I was MIA last week. I'm never MIA, but I was MIA. I'm going to be less gone here pretty soon... adding some new and more frequent blog features. That's right, even more communication advice, so stay tuned! In the meantime, my back was against the wall last week in a way that I haven't experienced in a while. I know my college readers can relate and I'm sure my non-college audience can, too. That's why I felt this topic was most appropriate. I'll be sharing exciting updates very soon about blog changes and book news! Now, let's talk. I've missed you in the past week!)


200+ pages.

When I was in grad school, in one particular term, the number of required papers added up to this number.

Now I remember that semester well. I rarely saw the light of day, my friends, my husband... clean clothes.

Big joke among my colleagues was that you pulled out the least stinky shirt/pants from the laundry heap and wore it without thinking twice. We tried be presentable without being offensive. Our focus? Doing well on our papers (so many of them!), hopefully getting to present at a conference or two, maybe scoring an early co-authorship on a publication, and maintaining high grades to keep our assistantships.

That's right... many of my classmates and I wore two (smelly!) hats: graduate teaching assistants/research assistants and college students writing an insane number of papers!

I remember I didn't necessarily have to ask for time to get my work done because my husband and I agreed together that I would go back to graduate school. We didn't have kids at the time, and we both accepted that sacrificing time from each other would pay off later.

And I wasn't smelling so great, so do you think my husband was really missing me? Just sayin'.

Fast forward 14 years and 10 days...

I was told by my editor of my soon-to-be-published book, "You need to cut about 100 pages from your manuscript." 

(A station break: For anyone reading this space for a while, you go right ahead and just revel... revel in your rightness... I knowwwww that brevity is not my strong suit. I own it. I'm working through it. Counseling is on Thursday.

I'm thinking lots of time away from family and friends to
get this move down... what say you?

Just kidding about that last part. Not that there's anything wrong with counseling. I love counseling!).

These days, taking that "cocoon time" to get work done isn't so easy anymore. I have two little people who demand my attention. I have a dual role on phase 2 of this grant project while I've stepped away from teaching through this academic year.

I'm The Chicklets roller derby carpool organizer. 

I have to exercise 6 days a week or risk gaining 5 more lbs.

My little guy needs a 4th birthday party planned.

We have no bread in the house to make yet another (*&%$#*!) peanut butter and jelly sandwich! (Ooh, did I say that out loud? Who doesn't love making PBJ... again?)

My husband has his own high-octane career and is traveling. Again.  Sigh.

However, I also have a dream. I have had a dream to write a book since I was a teenager.  This dream has slipped out of my hands twice already (I'll explain more in another blog post).

Now the reality of the dream is about 90 days away.

(Which hardly seems possible!!!!!!!!!!).

I had to find a way to close off my real life... and slip into a hole to do that head-down, hands-on, focused editing.

Students, you know what I'm talking about. You have to edit papers, do projects, study for exams.

You need your full concentration.

But your life, and the people in your life, need you.

School needs you, too. And just like I committed to write a book. You committed to college... and all the work and hours it entails. 

So what's the communication lesson here?

Sometimes you need others to leave you alone during those monster project periods! Or maybe you have other needs! But how do you do that? Here are some tips, which I just took myself...

-Tell those close to you exactly what you're doing: "I have to cut 100 pages from my manuscript!"

Saying "Damn, I have this huge project to do!" is too vague. I had no problem telling my close friends, casual acquaintances, Twitter pals, my running buddy, even the store clerk (okay, not quite) the magnitude of my challenge. Every time they said, "Hey, how's that editing going?" I felt a renewed determination, particularly at the moments that I really felt like giving up. I'm not a giver-upper in any sense of the word (hello, pudgy, penguin-y 1/2 marathoner here!), but I struggled... for sure! Those who knew kept me going.



-Ask clearly and directly for the "non-negotiables" to support your goal: "I'll need to be in my room where it's quiet so I can concentrate. I'm going to need about 20 hours to work on this, so you won't be seeing very much of me."

Be very specific about your needs! Saying, "Why can't you just give me some time to work?" or "I need quiet!" is too vague of a statement.

-Don't forget to ask for help at the second you realize you need it, and definitely give updates along the way: "I think I'm on track to meet this deadline. Here's what I've gotten done so far. I'm a little bit stuck on this other part, though, and I need help." 

My editor and I had largely been communicating via e-mail, but after a few back-and-forth's, I totally picked up the phone and asked for her help in the places I became stuck. If can put my tail between my legs and do it (does that quote ever get old?), so can you!

-When your project is done, use some repair words if you've neglected someone a bit too much, "I'm sorry I got a little short with you. I felt really stressed and worried about how I was going to get this done and I didn't mean to take it out on you." 

After literally not seeing me most of last week, my 8-year-old expressed considerable discontent. She missed me, and when she tried to curl up next to me quietly to do her homework or read, she was... well... distracting. Too distracting for the intense editing I needed to do.

Once I turned my "skinnier" manuscript in at 9:47 last Friday evening (on my 16-year wedding anniversary--talk about an on-board spouse!), on Saturday morning, I cuddled my little girl and tried to liken her third-grade teacher to my editor, and her Writer's Workshop stories to my book. I asked her what would happen if she had to cut 100 pages from her stories, and she said, incredulously, "That would take me three years!" After I explained myself, we did some reading, more cuddling, and I believe all was forgiven.

Have I had other big, "testing" deadlines or projects in the past 14 years that have forced me to shut myself away? Of course, I have. 

But, like my graduate work, this book feels intensely sacred, and so incredibly personal.

It represents many twists and turns in my life... failures and successes... and finally, after conceiving of the idea eight years ago, a full-circle moment.

And, just the idea of being the recipient of so much--gulp--criticism... brings me right back to those student years.

So, wonderful student, just like my editing marathon, and the next one that I'm sure will follow (and the one after that) won't last forever, neither will your current papers, exams that require hours of studying, or projects.

Talk about all the support you need:  Time, a well-lit, quiet room, a "check-in buddy" to ask how many more sources you found for your research paper...  a hamburger.

You just might get it.

And, hey, ask for a little help with the laundry, should you find that it's piling up.

Students, how do you get the time, space, and quiet that you need to get your studying or writing done? Colleagues, what recommendations do you have for students who don't have lives that seem to support the hours or environment needed for college work demands? 

Sunday, August 21, 2011

Why Asking for Help is the New Smart

Here is an actual e-mail chain with a student:

Student:  Bremen.  Looked at my grade. Lower than I was expecting.

Me:  Well, I show that your journal is missing. That would have been worth 100 points. An outline checklist wasn't completed--another 25 points. I sent the class an e-mail asking everyone to check their grades and it's great that you've done that. Were these assignments completed and I didn't receive them in the drop box? Or were they missed?

Student:  I didn't understand what to do, so I didn't do them.

Me:  I would have loved to know you were having trouble. I could have helped.

Student:  (No reply).

I'm actually still waiting for a reply and suspect it's not coming...

This scenario is one that I experience frequently in the course of an academic year. Students would prefer to avoid an assignment (and lose the points) than to simply ask for help.

I guess I shouldn't be surprised. There was quite a buzz on Twitter a few months ago about this Ed Week article, which discusses high school students' unwillingness to ask for help--even their idea that doing so is a sign of weakness (Look at the part: "Real men don't ask for help.").

If asking for help is considered weak in high school, what happens when the anti-help high schoolers transition into college?

College is the place for exploration, open inquiry, agreement/disagreement, and everything in between.

Isn't it?

How can a student maximize those opportunities if he/she is afraid to ask for help or believes that there is some failure in doing so?  

I would love to see a widespread re-think, based on this idea. A revolution, if you will! Try it on for size:

Asking for help is "the new smart"!

Let me back it on up here...

I teach my public speaking students that when they verbally cite credible sources in their speeches, they should picture themselves carrying the experts from those sources piggyback... sort of like a "credibility totem pole." Or, like acrobats who flip and land on the shoulders of a "catcher."

This is the mental image you should have when you use the "smarts" of others to support you. Asking others for help means that you carry their knowledge and wisdom on your shoulders. Then, you  become stronger in your own knowledge because: 

-You look pretty darned smart for being able to say, "Hey, I am not sure if I'm doing this right and I want to check and see if I am."
-You become someone that others seek out because you found the right answer and now you're "in the know."
-You are ultimately seen as a trusted someone who knows where to find the right resources if you can't figure out the answer yourself.

These are all qualities hugely sought-after in the workplace, and they are rare to find.

Given the fact that unemployment is at an all-time high AND communication skills are the #1 desirable employability skill, wouldn't the ability to not only have the right answers, but also to communicate the right questions to find them be one hell of an important skill to have?

Isn't school the place to practice the communication skill of asking the right questions?

So what's the communication lesson here?

Pretty simple:  Ask for help!

You can phrase it any way you like from:

-"Can you help?"
to
-"I don't know what in the heck is going on here and I need to figure it out"
or
-"I'm totally lost and would like not to be."

You can even approach the question somewhat covertly or abstractly:
-"I think I have an idea of what we're supposed to be doing, but just want to ensure that I'm correct"
or
-"I'm missing the mark on this particular concept and I think I know why."

Bottom line: 

Smart people don't have all the answers, but they know when they don't have them. Then, they strive to figure out where to get them.

A few examples:
-A dear, dear friend of mine just took a job that requires a ton of work in Excel. She was up front with her supervisor and said, "I don't want to say that I don't know, but I'd really like to learn." Now she is taking a class in Excel, paid for by her employer.

-When I decided that I wanted to get out of health care (long story, but it was my former profession for seven years before I went back to school) and start teaching college-level communication, I literally picked up the phone and cold-called a college professor who taught speech communication. I said, "I'd like to know how you got where you are because I want to do it, too. Can I take you for coffee?" I didn't even have a Bachelor's degree yet. See where asking for help got me with that one??? 


And, finally, something really personal...
-I have lost 90+ lbs over a period of 13 years. I have a morbidly obese family. I didn't have too many inherent "smarts" to control the problem, myself. When I decided that I was "done", I became an anthropologist of weight loss. I lost my weight without surgical means (Hello! It took 13 years!); I learned from those who knew more than I did about nutrition, exercise, and, later, ultimately jogging and marathoning. To this day, I rely on a trusted instructor at my local YMCA for wisdom and guidance. I even started seeing a specialist every two weeks who is the head of non-surgical weight management at a local hospital. The instructor taught me about running and knows far more than I do about exercise. The doctor knows about the science of long-term weight loss. I need their help! Why?

Because the minute I become too proud or ashamed to ask for help could be the minute that I begin to backslide.

Now, I consider myself a pretty smart woman, but I don't attribute my smartness to my degrees or my academic career.

I am smart because I am unafraid to find the people who know more and learn from them.

Whether you are in high school or college, be selfish. Build your own "smart totem pole" or "acrobatic routine of brilliance."

At the very least, open your mouth and ask for help from the people who have signed up to give it to you.

Need more ammunition? Read this USA Today College piece by an actual student who got over her fear of asking for help and went for it--with impressive results!

Students, I challenge you to ask for help... either by e-mailing a college-related issue or question to chattyprof@gmail.com, by posting a comment, or by telling your strategies for getting help when you need it. Colleagues, what about students who don't ask for help because they think we're too busy? Or that we'll think less of them? Or??? Weigh in! 

Tuesday, May 24, 2011

Summer and Fall College Students: Do You Have an Exit Strategy for Your Classes? Rethink It!

Update  5/24/2011, 3:12 p.m.: Just an FYI that this post is a compilation of numerous similar student situations. Many logistical details have been altered to protect student privacy. Some seemingly distinguishing facts remain the same every quarter: I have been teaching a night course for many years now, same time format. Every one of my courses requires speeches. My first required speech is always on a topic with which the student is pretty familiar (a career speech or other area that is fairly easy for content connection and research). I attend at least two to three conferences per year. I will always match students who miss work in this class with other students who have had unexpected emergencies so they can pair up and record their missed presentations. And, finally, it is not unusual for students to come see me several times before they actually drop, even come to class and request the drop there. I actually feel good that this happens so much since students obviously feel comfortable enough to be honest with me!

"I'm going to drop this class."

Student made this statement with no harsh tone, no subliminal message of "I can't stand you, your family, your cat, or your Mom minivan."

Just matter of factness.

"Why?" I asked. "We're over halfway through the quarter. Why drop now?"

"Because our next assignment seems really hard. Like you're really strict on what you're looking for."

"Well, I am. A good outline provides a solid foundation for your speech," I said. "But we have plenty of time to work on it and if you get started early, I'm glad to work on it with you. Also, your other work has gone well. Why throw it all away?"

Student didn't respond, but seemed to think about what I was saying--for the moment.

Next conversation, I reminded Student of the personal experience that Student had with the topic. That all Student needed to do was find some sources and organize the points.

I made a plan with Student: Contact me during the week with the in-progress assignment. I'd give feedback. Student would move ahead.

My plan was not Student's plan.

Student e-mailed me: "I can't do this."

I e-mailed back and simply said, "You can. Here's how."

I offered the same points I discussed during the last class. Now Student had a concrete list. The framework was there. Student had to take the next step, do the research, fill in the outline.

Next communication with Student?

Again, no draft work, but a visit to my office on the day the speech was due . . .

. . . with a drop form in hand.

I waved it away.

"No, no, no," I said. "You're not dropping. You know what you need to do. You know this topic well. Why would you drop?"

Student looked at the floor. "It just seems really hard. I've never been very good at writing."

(For readers thinking, "Fear of public speaking," ironically, Student was truly okay with that. The writing piece was the recurring theme of concern).

"I'm not buying it. You did so well with your last written assignment."

I could tell by Student's expression that my encouragement wasn't working.

Time to get firm. 

"So what are you going to do? Drop the course and lose your money? Lose your financial aid or your parents' money? You're going to have to retake this course, anyway, either here or at the university. You might as well stay in a class where you know everyone and where you have the exact help that you need."

Then my persuasive close (wait for it!):  "You can do this! Now is not the time to give up! You have everything you need to make this happen."

"But I'm already late on the assignment," Student said.

Phew. I'll take concern about lateness over bailing out.

I said, "Another student had a crisis and will be late on this speech. The two of you can work together. We'll figure it out."

(PS:  This class meets once per week for four hours; rest is online. I'm very firm about no make up speeches in class).

That evening, I was thrilled when Almost Dropped Student did connect with Crisis Student and the two of them forged a plan.

I chatted with Almost Dropped Student a bit after class. Small talk, then the conversation turned to Student's family: Student had much support for being in school. 

I shared one of my own college struggles where I nearly bailed: Math. I was nearly 30 at the time; I hired a 19-year-old math whiz with a Mohawk and a spike bracelet to tutor me twice a week. I told Student that for me, not getting through math meant no teaching career that I so desperately wanted. I knew I didn't have to get an 'A'; I just needed to pass.

My conversation with Student was connecting--the type that student retention studies say can make a difference between students staying in college or not.

When I left the college that evening, I felt good. Likewise, Student seemed lighter.

Student said, "I feel better. I know what to do now."

I was hopeful:  If I could just get Student through this particular hiccup, then it could serve as a change agent for other college moments--or even life moments--that seem insurmountable.

Maybe Student would see that when the work gets hard, working harder--with support--is the way to go. In my mind, it's the only way to go.

Helping students with these kinds of revelations (not to mention my freakish love of public speaking and interpersonal communication) is why I absolutely love this career...
 
But what is equally hard and, dare I say, sometimes painful about this career is the knowledge that some students view their classes like some couples view marriage:

"If it doesn't work, I'll just get divorced."

In other words:

"Class gets too hard? I'll just drop."

Having an exit strategy before going into a class seems crazy to me.

Yes, the drop policy is there for a reason. Like if some life situation happens and going to class is literally no longer feasible (or you've been hauled away by aliens who don't support your college education and won't pay for it.).

But I do not count disliking the professor, finding the work too hard, too much, or not getting the grades that you deserve as good reasons to drop. And these are some of the most common reasons that students drop classes.

If you don't like a professor, guess what? "Like" in the student-professor relationship is a wonderful bonus (and a bonus that you will probably have, more often than not!), but not a given.

You are supposed to learn from a professor, be treated fairly, and have a comfortable working relationship. That relationship is finite. If you are bored or just plain don't click with the person, this is still not a reason to drop. A term is only 10-15 weeks at most. You can deal with almost anything when there is an end in sight.

If you aren't getting the grades you feel you deserve, there are also ways to deal with that. You first  communicate with your professor (yes, even if you don't like them!). That doesn't work? You advocate for yourself and take your argument higher (saving this discussion for a later blog post). Still, you don't drop the course.

Why? First and foremost because of the practical reasons I told Student:

-You will likely lose money--or someone will lose money--if you're past a certain date;
and
-Depending on the class, you delay the inevitable. You will have to take the class again!

But most of all, you will gain far, far more by dealing with that frustrating prof/assignment/class-as-a-whole head-on than if you simply bail out.

Look at sticking with the class as a selfish move, if you have to:  Every day is one less day that you never have to see this prof, class, or topic again. Why on earth would you want to start over?

Enough with my diatribe. Back to the story...

I didn't see Student the following week because I was attending a conference.

When I returned and moved into my usual crazy morning routine, wrangling a 3-year-old, keeping an 8-year-old in check, suddenly it hit me:

In a week and a half, I hadn't heard from Student. Again, Student was going to run the outline by me before recording with Crisis Student.

I had a heaviness in my stomach, that "knowing."

(My stomach is very wise. It could have its own psychic hotline.)

As my kids started to argue over who was going to get the Nemo fruit snacks and who was going to get the Scooby Doo fruit snacks (when neither should be having fruit snacks at 8:15 a.m.), I couldn't help myself: I grabbed my laptop, hopped on to the college website, and logged into the master roster for the class.

My mind was saying, "Noooooo!" 

But my telepathic stomach already gave me my answer. 

There it was:  The big, fat "W" next to Student's name.

W = Withdrew.

(Ironically, Crisis Student's missing work was waiting for me in my Outlook in-box. So, one half of the duo held up the agreement).

I don't remember saying much to my kids on the drive to their schools. They were too busy chewing fruit snacks. (I was in a weak point. What can I say?).

This one hit me hard.

And, I suppose I should be thankful that after 13 years of teaching, losing a student can still make me feel that way.

I was flummoxed. I couldn't shake the feeling of defeat.

This post would be so much easier to write if Student failed to talk to me, neglected to share the real feelings about wanting to drop the class.

Then I could say:  So, what's the communication lesson here?

But from a communication standpoint, Student did almost everything right.

And for every student reading this, I would advise you to:

-Go to your prof at the very first sign of trouble and be specific with your problem. Don't just say, "I'm so confused and don't know what to do."

Say, "I'm starting to feel a little confused about X concept or X chapter and am concerned that I may not get through this class." You can also say, "I got totally lost when you went over X."

If you missed work (hopefully you deal with the problem before this happens!), tell the prof, "I missed the last assignment because I did not understand it. I should have come to you sooner and I will next time. I can have the assignment to you by Tuesday. Will you still accept it? Will you help me 'get it'?"

-Tell your prof if you have a life situation that threatens your success in the class. But do it the second you know that there is a problem! I can't tell you how many students tell me that a disaster was unfolding after the fact! E-mail your prof, call them, make an appointment, but tell them! You never have to disclose what is going on, you can say: "I have had an unexpected life emergency and I worry that it will threaten my success in this class. Can you help me figure out if I can still pass?" (Or get ____ grade, if that is your goal).

If you are taking an on-campus class, maybe you can transition to an online class to finish up your term. Maybe you can take an "Incomplete" in the course, depending on your school's policy or how the rest of your work has gone. But don't just drop without investigating all of your options!

-Remember the other support services at your college ALL designed to help you:  Your counseling center, tutoring centers, math resource centers, even your librarians. Utilize these people and put them on your "stay in class" team. It's what they are there for!

-Keep the feedback loop going with your prof. Follow through! Say, "I did what you recommended. Would you please take a look again? I am still feeling unsure."  Go ask for help as many times as you need it. Just because you had one conversation doesn't mean that's the end. Follow up on your plan.

The one disclaimer to these recommendations:  If you have not attended class all term or you have missed a ton of work without contacting your prof, catching yourself back up and having your prof's support to do that is going to be extremely difficult. Then, unfortunately, you may have to drop the class or take the grade consequence, if you've passed the drop date. If a major life emergency is the reason that you didn't go to class and you do end up with a failing grade, your Registrar's office can help you identify your options. You will likely have to retake the class, though. 

I e-mailed Student a few days after I saw the "W". I connected with this student. Closure, in my mind, was important. 

I told Student I was sorry to see the drop, that I respect some things need to happen in one's own time, and that I wished Student would have investigated other options to avoid this outcome. 


I told Student I hoped that this experience could be a "teachable moment"--that Student had all the tools needed to succeed and that one "off" assignment (if that even happened) would not have ruined the other good work already completed.

My final words? "You learn so, so much more from fighting through what is perceived as difficult, than what ends up being easy. It's what builds character :-). But again, you're going to learn that in your own time. I wish you well."

I found myself extremely unsettled, even after this e-mail.

Student didn't respond.

I expected that.

But maybe something will stick.

I have actually started to question myself over this situation. Why? Because I have a pretty great retention track record. But I wondered, have I been out of school too long? Am I no longer able to think like a student? To see things from a student's perspective?

I asked two superstar students who were not always superstars i.e., students who overcame some serious situational odds to transform themselves into mega-Honors students/scholarship winners heading to amazing universities soon, about their perception of dropping a class. They said I could quote them:

From Spencer Wright: "I think the ONLY time when it's alright to drop a class is when someone's personal life is negatively affecting their school performance. If life is going well, keep the devotion to your classes, right?"
 
From Serenity Carr:  "In my opinion, a student should figure out if they want to stay in a class within a week. But that's me, the overly ambitious student. And, it affects financial aid if you don't also add the same number of credits, so I have never dropped a class. (cried and swore I would? Yes. But dropped, no.) I would say that you should do it before the date you can get a full refund. If you wait too long, you waste money, and even longer, you get a W. No good no matter how you look at it. I learned the most from the classes I wanted to drop. But I stuck it through. It's good for students." 

I feel better reading their responses. 

An exit strategy for a college class? Bad, bad idea.

Their quotes led me to think about a quote that I absolutely love and live. 

It's from John "The Penguin" Bingham, a back-of-the-pack runner (like me) who went from being an out-of-shape couch potato to marathoner, but a sloooow marathoner:  

"The miracle isn't that I finished. The miracle is that I had the courage to start." 

I'll add:  "And the courage to stay."