Doubters and Believers
Hello! I trust that all is well with you and yours and that you are beginning to accept that Fall is upon us - fallen upon us??? I'm not complaining, really. If there wasn't a fall and winter, what would I do with all those warm clothes? In any case, the colder weather provides even more time to spend reading.
Just recently, I had been introduced to an awesome author! If you have an interest in exploring the culture of small-town life and becoming acquainted with characters that come alive on the page, Richard Russo's book, Bridge of Sighs, is definitely the book to check out of the library. In fact, it's a book worth paying the price for because I'm sure you will read it again and again. I cannot put it down! However, I have taken a moment away from my reading to share a portion that I read last evening and to ask if you, like me, can somehow connect with Russo's characters.
Russo's characters are residents of a small town in Upstate New York (close to where I actually was born and raised!). In this particular scene, they are high school seniors and it's the first day of school. They have been enrolled (involuntarily) into an honors English class where, one student reflects, "The best and brightest of the senior class seemed to have been purposely excluded from Mr. Berg's honor's seminar on the American Dream, which resembled some weird social experiment whose purpose wouldn't be revealed until the study was concluded. (Russo, p. 294)" In addition, the students silently agree that their English teacher is "pretty weird".
Mr. Berg (the teacher) begins the class with an electrifying and thought-provoking verbal exchange via a quick question-and- answer session that initially totally confuses the class. He leads them toward defining themselves as "doubters or believers." When one student, Lou, defines himself as "a little of both", Mr. Berg asks him why he thinks he is both a doubter and a believer. The student questions that perhaps he is "still learning?"
And, ah, Richard Russo does not disappoint us with his response to this character's proposal. For me, Mr. Russo/Mr. Burg has served up a giant bowl of food-for-thought. Mr. Berg does not believe that Lou is still learning...at least, he proposes that Lou is not seeking new knowledge but rather is looking for validation of his perspective of the world. He lays out the theory that the "real learning" takes place very early in our lives and that by the time we are in our junior or senior year in high school, ..."our characters and attitudes are mostly formed. (p. 304)" He challenges the students further with the thought that "We like the idea of change even though we know it's an illusion. (p. 304)"
Of course, Mr. Berg has offered no answers during this first session, merely challenges. As I finished this scene, as it were, I found I needed to put the book down and do a little reflecting of my own. Are we really "too old to change" as they say? Have we formed characters and attitudes so early on in life that we are left with a limited view of the world and ourselves? As a result, is our ability to change limited as well? Is change really an illusion, one that teases us with its opportunities but slips away when we think too hard about them? Are we simply "doubters or believers" from the age of two or three, leaving little room for change?
Phew, most definitely food-for-thought. I've been around a few years (yes, really) and Mr. Berg's challenges got me thinking about my ability to accept new ideas freely, uninhibited by what I learned "way back when" in my early years. How flexible and open to learning AM I as an OT? In my practice, I have enjoyed the opportunity to teach and coach. However, in order to remain an effective OT, I try to participate as an active learner, as well. I feel continuing education is essential and have strived to seek out courses that not only expand on my interests and current skills, but also broaden my knowledge and skill base, challenging me to present my clients and co-workers with new strategies and resources. I welcome in-service trainings and enjoy sharing ideas with co-workers.
With that said, I continue to ponder on how much of my "new learning" changes my attitudes and perspectives. Am I a doubter or a believer? How much of the information that I am offered do I take back to my workplace and put into use? Am I willing to place myself outside of my comfort zone in order to challenge the new information and see how it plays out in my practice?
My pediatric OT passions are vision and handwriting. When I'm presented with new learning challenges in these areas, I tend to soak them up, run back to my workplace and put them into motion. I like to teach others about them and observe their approach toward using them. I find it rewarding to switch it up a bit and see if I can fit the new knowledge comfortably into my tool box. I enjoy pushing my boundaries. In this case, I feel I'm a believer. However, when it comes to the more biomechanical strategies and therapeutic modalities, I find that my "abstract side" tends to push me into the doubter mode. Not that I doubt their authenticity or their possible benefits to my clients. I doubt my flexibility to master them and to include them into my tool box. I tend to cringe when it comes to things concrete and structured. I feel off kilter when I feel my creativity is constrained.
Mmmm, food for thought: Is my ability to change an "illusion," as Mr. Berg tells his students. Have I been leaving useful skills out of my tool box because I am a doubter? The Believer in me struggles to win this argument, stating that I have a great tool box!!! The Doubter in me knows that "you can't kid a kidder!"
So, I leave you with this thought: "...I'd hate to think you're losing interest already, because, I, for one, am very, very excited." (Mr. Berg/Russo, p. 305) Until next time,
Stay Connected!
Katherine
Reference: Russo, Richard. Bridge of Sighs. New York: Alfred A. Knopf, 2007.