Reading Fioleta's comment on my post about the SPACE training, made me think a little more about "feedback" and "criticism". Funny how both the words "critique" and "evaluation" which, in themselves simply refer to judging or commenting, are immediately taken to mean negative judgement or comment.
What grabbed my attention in Fioleta's post was this: "And I think for many people the fear of the negative evaluation is more prevalent than the anticipation of positive approval" What struck me is that this is true for me not just in prospect but also in actuality. Is that true for everyone?
As I've mentioned I was in professional theatre for seven years or so, in addition to college and post-college years when I did both university and local productions and the somewhat famed Colorado Shakespeare Festival. I got scores of positive reviews in those years. Most shows were reviewed by a number of different papers. The Oregon Shakespeare Fesitval was reviewed by every newspaper up and down the west coast. But, do you know - thirty years later, I can give you a list of the not-so-complimentary things said about me, because I somehow learned them by heart.
"As for the rest, the less said the better...." (That was my first review outside of High School, mind you, for my portrayal of Alais in The Lion in Winter, and though the observation obviously included most of the cast, I took it absolutely to heart.) "Anya Springer is lovely to look at but doesn't seem to have grasped the character...." "Anya Springer was adequate in her portrayal of Phoebe." "_______ ________ as Helena and Anya Springer as Hermia didn't damage the production, but didn't add to it much either."
I only remember one positive one from my entire theatre career, and I think I probably remember that one because I didn't find it until years later. * Only one out of untold good reviews!
The curious nature of this "who cares about the good comments?" attitude came to me one afternoon in the greenroom at OSF, where I'd finally gotten up the nerve to look through the enormous, many-inches-thick book on the coffee table containing reviews of the season's offerings. I'd glance at the title of the review, then scan for my name. If the comments were positive, I'd flip to the next review, barely taking it in. I do recall feeling a huge sense of relief that I was flipping through that book rather quickly. "Thank God, I'm not a failure." In retrospect, I know that my Hermia was wonderful and my Phoebe was fine (that's a darned difficult part to make much of, honestly); my "weird sister" (in the Scottish play*) was pretty darned good, but we were costumed in such a way that no reviewer could distinguish one of us from another. But, as I went through the review book, if the review was negative, my heart would sink, and I'd read the words over and over again - the less-than-thrilled review of my Phoebe was from that afternoon. That review certainly taught me the meaning of "damned with faint praise". Reading that made me want to throw up. And that's the way I felt! Sick - even though I'd just read one after another positive reviews! I could even see then how absurd this was, but the knowing meant nothing. I felt bad because one person didn't like my performance - didn't like it so much they wrote about it and published it in a newspaper! If I let myself, I could get worked up now, I think.
So, why are we like this? I guess I'm glad that I didn't feel compelled to obtain a copy of all of my good reviews and keep them in some scrapbook (as many of my fellow players did). I actually, felt very confident about my abilities. So why take negative comments so much to heart? I really don't understand it.
But, I suppose as a result I try to carefully watch what I say to students. I wish I could say I was that careful with my children. What I have learned in education classes, and practiced more diligently reading Harold Glasser's book (which I recommend) is that you need to follow every proper Victorian purveyor of etiquette and simply do not make personal comments. "You are a good girl." makes your radish panic; she is filled with shame, she believes to her depth that she is a bad girl....so she is not even concentrating on what you are trying to get across because she is so triggered by that personal comment. Rather, "This room is spotless! It makes me feel great to be in here!" Not: You are a wonderful cook.". but "These cookies are amazing!" Those comments go into the hopper, and get weighed in.....balanced against all of the unmet needs, unanswered cries and lack of affection that make her see herself as worthless, they don't seem too powerful, but they do something (unlike the generalized judgment that only calls out for contradiction.)
["Anya Springer's portrayal of Viola outshown Vanessa Redgrave's which I saw earlier this year." James Sandoe in The Shakespeare Quarterly. Sorry. Had to share. Finding this while doing some sort of research on the play, itself, really put a belated but pleasant conclusion to that era of my life.]
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