No bad questions

Most of my teachers growing up were amazing. I had one experience in middle school though that wasn’t so great. When I was in the seventh or eighth grade I got into a “fight” with one of my teachers. It wasn’t really a fight. It was over before it began, but it still left a mark.

At the start of the year, the teacher emphasized the importance of critical thinking. He wanted his classroom to be a safe place. He was very dramatic in stating that there were no bad questions and that he wanted to grow lifelong learners. I loved that idea. I still do.

I was a shy kid who was just finding his voice so this appealed to me. However, I was shocked near the middle of the school year, when he scolded me for raising my hand. I had a question on how he phrased a test question. It could’ve been answered in two or three different ways.

But there’s really a problem

Now kids had been complaining about the test for days leading up to it. He was a notorious for being a tough grader and I wanted to make sure I understood what he wanted. I prefaced my question by saying that I wasn’t complaining, that I had a legitimate question. He wasn’t hearing it. “Brian put your hand down and do your work.”

I wasn’t trying to be difficult. I prided myself on paying attention in class and doing what I was told to do. I handed my homework in on time, I was respectful, I tried to do things right. It had to be a miscommunication, right? He had to have heard me wrong, so I put my hand up again.

“Brian I said put your hand down.”

I was nothing if not stubborn though. I was convinced he would thank me for pointing out what I had found. He wouldn’t want something incorrect on his test. I was convinced that I had something that should be heard. So, I stood up and told him that I had a question about how the question was phrased. I was shocked when he looked back over in the meanest glare imaginable and told me he didn’t want to hear it.

“Brian, I’m not going to tell you again. What part of sit down and finish the test, don’t you understand? If I have to tell you again, I’m going to send you to the office.”

I wasn’t a kid that got sent to the office. He had my undivided attention. I struggled through the end of the test. When class was over, he tried to break the ice. “Some test, huh?”

I looked right at him and said nothing. I know my face though gave away my true feelings. In my view, he had done the worst possible thing that he could have done as a teacher: He had broken the teacher-student agreement. I felt like I had been betrayed.

The damage had been done

Before class would start each day, we would regularly talk about sports or whatever book I was reading. That went out the window. I felt like I couldn’t trust him anymore.

He asked me a few days later if everything was okay. I guess he noticed my less than thrilled demeanor. In the coldest voice I could muster, I asked him if my grades had dropped or if I had missed any assignments. He said no. He said he just felt like I was holding back. I told him that I didn’t speak up where I didn’t feel safe.

Now, as an adult, I realize he was probably just tired or frustrated with my class. However, I lost a lot of respect for him. If there’s a good thing from the experience, it taught me the importance of questioning, even authority figures, and trusting my gut.

It cemented in my mind too that there are no bad questions — just impatient people too self-absorbed to listen to the answers.