My family
had just returned to the United States from four years overseas and
it had been quite an adjustment for me. I was in the sixth grade. The
schoolwork was easier than it had been in Europe, but the unfamiliar
culture, social norms, and even style of dress left me confused and
uncertain. I didn't feel that I fit in or was accepted by most of the
children.
There was
a bright spot in the situation, though: it was my favorite teacher,
Miss Harcleroad. She was interesting, creative and kind. I remember
one class module on economics where she used a novel approach. We
pretended that we lived on an island and, under her guidance, created
our own society with families and an economic structure. The module
spanned several weeks, and we were asked to keep a journal about our
experiences. I loved the interactive approach that made learning fun
and economics understandable. I especially enjoyed writing about our
classroom experiences in my journal.
So it was
a shock when Miss Harcleroad called the class to order one day and
gave us a dressing down. We weren't taking our assignments seriously,
she told us, and how could we expect to learn if we wouldn't apply
ourselves? I was unhappy at the thought of letting her down, and I
also felt the familiar insecurity creeping in. I thought I really had
tried to do well, and I wasn't sure what I should have done
differently.
Trying to
put her point across, Miss Harcleroad began to address individual
members of the class. "John, are you happy with your work? Do
you feel you've done a good job?"
"No,"
he admitted.
She asked
another student who responded similarly. Then I heard her call my
name and ask the same question: "Are you pleased with your
work?"
Even
though I really was, I didn't dare answer in the affirmative. Looking
down, I quietly answered, “No.”
"Well,
you should be!"
I looked
up, stunned. She went on to praise my work and recommend it as an
example. It was the last thing I expected.
Looking
back, I’m sure my teacher realized that I needed the positive
affirmation. The short-term effect was immediate: over the ensuing
weeks I felt a new confidence, and I put even more effort into my
assignments in her class. But the impact didn’t stop there.
Over the years that simple experience has come back to me time and
again, reminding me what a difference it makes when someone lets you
know they believe in you.
So here's
the challenge for today's column: Find someone you can encourage,
someone who needs to know that they're appreciated and valued—perhaps
a family member, a friend, or even someone you meet at the grocery
store. Take time to express appreciation for something positive about
them. As the hymn invites us,“Pause to help and lift another.”
(Hymn 220, “Lord, I would Follow Thee.”)
You never know the far-reaching impact you could have.
Kathryn Grant is a user assistance professional with a passion
for usability and process
improvement. She also loves family history and enjoys the challenge and
reward of building her family tree.
As a child, she lived outside the United States for four years because of her father's job. This experience fueled her natural love of words and language, and also taught her to appreciate other cultures.
Kathryn values gratitude, teaching, learning, differences, and unity. She loves looking at star-filled skies, reading mind-stretching books, listening to contemporary Christian music, attending the temple, and eating fresh raspberries.
Kathryn teaches Sunday family history classes at the BYU Family History Library, and presents frequently at family history events. For more information, visit her Family History Learning Resources page