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 Teaching
With Love
By Karin A. Wilde-Berry
Encouraging, praising, and finding the positive in every
student
“When will we teach our children in school what they are? We
should say to each of them: Do you know what you are? You are
a marvel. You are unique. In all of the world there is no
other child exactly like you. In the millions of years that
have passed there has never been another child like you. You
may become a Shakespeare, a Michelangelo, a Beethoven. You
have the capacity for anything. Yes, you are a marvel.”
—Cellist Pablo Casals, quoted in The Power of an
Encouraging Word by Ken Sutterfield
I recently attended a meeting of dance teachers where the
studio owners advocated a very different approach than that of
Pablo Casals. They instructed their employees not to
compliment every dancer. “They know if their skips are not up
to par. Make them work for it,” the head teacher said. I was
shocked.
This old-school philosophy was alive and apparently thriving
at that dance school. I imagined myself as a little girl with
more exuberance than skill. I envisioned the scene: A little
dancer skips across the floor. “Perfect,” says the teacher.
The next girl skips. It appears to be not as grand, because
the teacher sighs. “Not bad. Get those knees higher.” Then it
is my turn. I know I can outdo these novices. As I thrust
myself forward, I see my beautiful self in the mirror and note
that my one-legged skips are really coming along. I
confidently breeze past the teacher. Nothing. No comment. She
calls out, “Next.” Confused, I figure she did not see me, so I
bite my lower lip, lift that leg higher, and skip, skip, skip
back to the line. Then I imagine the terrible thought that
would hit my tender heart: Maybe I am not good.
Children are like little sponges, waiting to soak in their
teachers’ delight and encouragement. Teachers represent
authority; children look up to us with trust and respect. Our
negative input can crush and wound, cut deeper than any
remarks from their peers. They believe what we tell them, and
our words stay with them for a long time, sometimes forever.
That is why I believe that teachers should compliment every
dancer in their classes.
There have been times when I felt discouraged, especially when
my dancers were not performing my choreography at the level I
thought they could. I would become irritable. Why couldn’t
they get it? Maybe they would work harder if I corrected,
drilled, and criticized them. So I would, and the whole class
would begin scowling and I would soon realize that none of us
were having fun. So I began to change my tactics. “Nice
pointed toes!” I’d say. “Great energy! I love your smiles!” I
wanted the dancers to leave the classroom beaming, proud of
their own accomplishments. I realized that though my
choreography could be altered, the dancers’ morale was hard to
win back.
Early on in my 33 years of classroom experience I began
training myself to seek the positive, to look for the good. I
try to follow four basic rules whenever I am in the classroom.
1. Encourage yourself.
Before a day at the studio, I take some time to remember why I
became a teacher. I tell myself that I am making a difference.
If I am disheartened while teaching, I have nothing to give to
my students. This is the first step in making my classroom a
positive and safe place to be.
2. Be genuine.
Compliment out of sincerity. I once worked with someone who
often conveyed a mixed message. Her words were kind but they
lacked emotion, and her smile seemed more like a grimace.
Psychologist and author Dr. Larry Crabb sums it up best
(again, in Sutterfield’s Power of an Encouraging Word):
“Real encouragement occurs when words are spoken from a heart
of love.”
3. Use a proactive approach to problem solving.
It is easy to be quick to make negative conclusions, but
understanding the truth of a situation often takes longer. A
story that master teacher Gregg Russell shared with me is a
perfect example: “I was teaching a tap class, and I remember
seeing a young girl in the back of class with that ‘I don’t
want to be here—this class is lame’ face. Back in the day, I
would have let that get to me, would have made a snide comment
to the class about it. On this day, I didn’t take that route.
I went up to the young lady and asked, ‘Are you all right?
Because you don’t look happy.’ She looked at me in amazement
and said, ‘My feet hurt. My shoes are too small, but my mom
won’t let me take them off.’ I was dumbfounded. Here I had
taken it personally and it had nothing to do with me. I told
her, ‘I am the tap teacher, and I am telling you to take your
shoes off. I would rather have you take the class without your
feet hurting than suffer through with shoes that are too
small.’ I then went over to her mom and told her, and she was
OK with it. The girl took the rest of the class and had a
blast. It was such a learning experience for me, seeing how
taking the positive, proactive approach resolves the problem
and creates the class that I desire.”
4. Improve with kindness.
Words of encouragement are the most effective method of
getting people to do their best. The greatest leaders in the
world are those who can reach into the hearts, minds, and
lives of other people, bringing out the best in them and
building on their strengths. Find one good thing to point out
about every dancer, even if it is a nice braid or pretty
smile. Ken Sutterfield writes in the previously mentioned book,
“Take the time to find something positive to commend your
child for and you will discover both their ability and
attitude improve.”
Following these simple rules has yielded results I never could
have anticipated. When a girl I’ll call “Molly” first began
attending my classes, I noticed how her eyes seemed to be
permanently fixed on the floor. She never looked in the mirror
and rarely met my gaze. I learned that she used to attend a
studio where the teacher harshly critiqued her students and
had no qualms about making Molly feel inferior to “better”
dancers. I made it my personal goal to instill a sense of
confidence and worth in Molly. As the weeks progressed, this
young student flourished in an environment of praise. Her eyes
began to sparkle when she crossed the floor, and I looked
forward to those moments when a compliment would make her
break into a huge grin.
Then one day Molly’s mom asked if I would pose with Molly for
a picture to send to a contest she was entering called “My
Everyday Hero.” Shortly after that I received two tickets to
the Minnesota Orchestra. On a Sunday afternoon in November
2003, I sat in the audience as Aaron Copland’s Fanfare for
the Common Man filled the hall. Then I saw the picture of
Molly and me on a huge screen and heard her shy voice read,
“Miss Karin is awesome! She is not only my dance teacher but
she is a special friend. I believe she is Heaven sent, . . .
an angel. She makes me feel so confident and loved. Miss Karin
is my everyday hero and I love her.” Tears were streaming down
my cheeks. As the program progressed, I learned that three
everyday heroes had been chosen: a dad, a grandpa, and me. I
represented teachers everywhere and the impact we have on our
students.
A quote from child psychologist Haim Ginott in Chicken Soup
for the Teacher’s Soul rings so true to me: “I’ve come to
a frightening conclusion that I am the decisive element in the
classroom. It’s my personal approach that creates the climate.
It’s my daily mood that makes the weather. As a teacher, I
possess a tremendous power to make a person’s life miserable
or joyous. I can be a tool of torture or an instrument of
inspiration. I can humiliate or humor, hurt or heal. In all
situations, it is my response that decides whether a crisis
will be escalated or de-escalated and a person humanized or
de-humanized.”
I challenge teachers everywhere to take Ginott’s words to
heart. Sit quietly in your living room or studio and listen to
Fanfare for the Common Man and think of the tremendous
influence you have every day. Be encouraged. You are changing
the world, one dance student at a time. You are your students’
everyday hero.
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