4 minute read
Shame Shields
TABLE 2.1: EXAMPLES OF SELF-LIMITING BELIEFS VERSUS BELIEFS OF SELF-EFFICACY FOR EDUCATORS
I always have to be strong in front of my students. They are counting on me, and I can’t let them down. I can show up to every situation in my classroom with integrity and honesty.
I can’t ask my colleagues for help. That’s a sign of weakness. It is courageous to ask for support from my fellow teachers and administrators and those who care about me.
I can’t make time for myself; I have a lot of planning to do. My students are more important than I am.
My efforts are never good enough. My classroom isn’t as creative as my neighbor’s.
As a teacher, I am not [creative, firm, fun, connected, fit, knowledgeable] enough.
In order to be loveable, I need to [be more fun, be more social, achieve more, work longer hours, be funnier, be more serious]. My self-care is important. I need to take care of myself to be my best self for my students.
I am doing the best I can for my students. That is enough for me.
I am proud of my efforts to be the best that I can be in the classroom.
I am worthy of love and belonging, just as I am.
For example, imagine that you hope to one day teach grade 3, but you’ve always been a middle school teacher, so you do not have the experience to teach at this level. A grade 3 job comes up at your district. If you have positive beliefs about your ability to fulfill the role (that despite lack of experience, your passion and dedication would make you an ideal candidate for the job), you might be more likely to apply and possibly get the job. If you have a negative belief system founded on your supposed inability to pull off teaching grade 3, you probably wouldn’t apply (and, subsequently, you’d have a 0 percent chance of actually getting the job).
Your mindset and belief system can have a significant impact on the outlook you adopt in life and on the opportunities that arise as a result.
Our limiting beliefs often stem from maladaptive survival mechanisms (Wadsworth, 2015). Evolutionarily, when we humans find ourselves figuratively alone, the reward circuitry in our brain screams at us to smarten up and find our way
back to the tribe—to fit in at all costs (Shamay-Tsoory, Saporta, Marton-Alper, & Gvirts, 2019). This connection-seeking mechanism was very useful to us in the caveman days, because being an outcast meant we were no longer protected from environmental dangers by the group—and the chances of dying were pretty high. The feeling of aloneness is often associated with shame or with the feeling of being unworthy of love and belonging (Brown, 2013). We are programmed for survival, and shame puts our connection to others in danger, which is a threat to our very survival (Suttie, 2016). So, many of us spend most of our lives trying to reduce any possibility of finding ourselves alone and exposed (Shen, 2018). Often, our desire to avoid shame at all costs can result in some maladaptive practices that cause us more harm than good.
Dr. Linda Hartling (Hartling & Luchetta, 1999), author and Human Dignity and Humiliation Studies Director at the World Dignity University initiative and Dignity Press, explains that when we face feelings of shame, we often use three main maladaptive coping mechanisms to protect ourselves from the pain of our experience: (1) moving away, (2) moving toward, or (3) moving against. We might move away from the pain by silencing ourselves, living in secrecy, and ultimately avoiding connection (flight). For example, picture Natalie, a shy child who hides behind her hair and drawstring hoodies whenever she is challenged in mathematics. We might tend to move toward it (freeze) through pleasing, appeasing, and perfecting. For example, think of Jordan, a boy who always wants to do the right thing and frequently asks for reassurance that his answers are correct. We might tend to move against it, hurting people before they hurt us, lashing out in anger, or blaming others (fight). For example, imagine Braxton, a child who consistently responds to conflict situations by blaming others. Fighting back may be the easiest way he has learned to cope with conflict and stress. As these children grow to become adults, it’s hard for them to change their habitual responses when triggered or stressed (Shonkoff & Garner, 2012).
Our patterned maladaptive emotional responses to stress can feel like a comfortable default setting, comparable to that cozy old sweatshirt you live in on the weekends. Studies reliably find a strong link between shame and the experience of post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD) following a traumatic event. If our stress response is triggered on a recurring basis as children, our flight, freeze, and fight reactions can become habitual responses to any sort of stress in adulthood (Shonkoff & Garner, 2012). In fact, some trauma survivors have difficulty regulating emotions such as anger, anxiety, sadness, and shame—and this is more pronounced when the trauma occurred at a young age (Dvir, Ford, Hill, & Frazier, 2014).
