The Paradox of Being

Personal Perspective: Just because a teacher says it's true, doesn't make it so.

Reviewed by Kaja Perina

Key points

• Should writers avoid the verb 'to be' like the plague? Or should they embrace its power to insight action?
• Affirmations build confidence while bringing a sense of calm and peace to the speaker.
• Teachers and professors wield the power to influence their students. Not every word they utter is true.
• There are always two sides to every argument. Our very being demonstrates we all possess a multitude of sides.

I sat in a windowless room on the third floor of O'Leary Library.

Already in my fourth year as a doctoral student, I was surrounded by sixteen other graduate students pursuing their master's degrees in education.

The professor, a new hire and a Harvard graduate (something he seemed to drop into every conversation), wrote a question on the whiteboard: "What is the weakest word?"

Students raised their hands. "Good," one person said. The professor wrote the word on the board.

Someone else said, "Interesting." He added to the list.

"Beautiful," another offered, "because my concept of beauty might be different than yours." The professor wrote the word and nodded.

We continued this exercise for a few minutes until no one had anything new to offer.

Finally, the professor frowned and shook his head. "No, none of these are the weakest words in the English language." We shrugged our shoulders, raised our eyebrows, and tipped our heads questioningly to the side. "Do you want to know the weakest word?" he asked. A few muttered, "Sure. Tell us."

He turned and wrote two letters on the board.

"The verb 'be'," he said. Then, he wrote out the conjugation of the verb. Am, are, is, was, were, will be, have been, will have been, being. And so on.

Something inside of me started to boil.

I teach college freshmen how to write. I guide, push, pull, and support my students and gently correct them. Often, my job becomes simply an effort to instill enough confidence in them that they feel willing to share their drafts. These students frequently suffer from perfection paralysis. They don't want to mess up or make mistakes. They want to know how to do it right. They want the 'A', and that's it.

But now, in this graduate-level course, my professor berated his students as we fell prey to his philosophical word trap.

Be is not a weak word.

Be empowers its speaker with power, strength, and knowledge.

The phrase 'I am' reflects our identity.

I am a writer. I am an artist. I am sick. I am stupid.

Yesterday, in my College Writing 1 class, my students worked in groups rewriting a paragraph by transforming passive and implied communication into active dialogue. I showed them how to punctuate the new sentences correctly. I also demonstrated the difference between using tags like 'said' and 'told' and switched those to 'screamed' and 'whispered.'

After a few minutes, the room started to buzz with students talking through their revisions. They laughed, pointed, and made new suggestions. They elaborated on the original scene, adding new details and characters.

But I noticed one student looking down at his phone.

I approached him and asked if he was contributing.

"Oh yeah," he said, "I'm working with them." He pointed to the two women to his right.

"Doesn't look like it," I joked. "So you can read what your partners have written when they're done."

"Oh no," he said, "Not me. I'm kinda quiet."

"You shouldn't define your identity like that," I said.

"But that's how I've always been."

"What's your major?"

"Political science."

"And what do you want to do with that?"

"Be a lawyer."

"You're gonna have to talk," I said. "You know that. Right?"

He looked up at me like I had just discovered a secret he'd held close to his heart. "Yeah," he said. "I guess you're right."

"Your words matter. Your voice needs to be heard. We need good lawyers."

He smiled and started contributing to his partners' rewrite. When the time came, he took turns reading the new dialogue with his peers. HIs voice was strong and he even added emotion with inflections to dramatize the words.

He is no longer the shy, quiet kid who doesn't speak in class. He is a speaker. He is learning. He will be great. He is now practicing.

I recently read Eckart Tolle's The Power of Now. The book emphasizes our inability to change the past or affect the future because the only time we can ever act is in the present.

I am doing the thing. I am existing. I am what I am.

But I disagree.

We reflect on our past and contemplate our future while we exist now. We act today to improve our futures and, therefore, our pasts.

The paradox of the word be lies not in its weakness, but in its power, confirmed with affirmations.

I am confident. I am serene. I am sure.

I repeat this mantra daily- especially when I feel tense and nervous.

When students identify with a label, their self-perception limits their achievements.

Yes, labels and diagnoses provide schools and their experts with ways to support students with disabilities and give both the child and their teachers and parents strategies to bolster learning.

Carol Dweck has devoted much of her career to the theory of growth mindset. "I am fascinated by how motivation affects people's success, independent of their starting ability. And I am fascinated by the beliefs that underlie this motivation. It is my deep conviction that if you love your topic, have endless curiosity about it, and believe in its importance, it will inevitably be a powerfully rewarding journey. You will always leave something others can build on" (Dweck, p. 482). (Look at all the be verbs Dr. Dweck used in her paper.)

This theory's foundation lies in each person's personal viewpoint- the struggle between fixed mindset and growth.

For example, I never tell anyone I am a writer; I am an artist.

Why?

Clearly, I write. (You're reading my words.)

And recently, I have been painting and sketching.

Why is my concept of who I am limited by the things for which I am compensated?

• I am a teacher.
• I used to be a seamstress.
• I was a retail clerk.
• I am happy- most of the time.
• I strive to be The Creativity Sensei.

I am like the karate master who has ascended through the levels of the creative disciplines to such an extent that I can now guide others through their own stages of development.

I am not a life coach or a creativity coach. I do not possess those credentials.

I inspire others to do their art.

Being creative elevates our mood. Who wouldn't benefit from being a bit happier?

Be who you want to be.