Self-Doubt

WARNING: Tooth decay and brain hemorrhaging may occur from sentimental crap ahead. Reader discretion is advised.


Allow me to regale a little story, about what happened today, to you.

It was my first tutorial for EP 101 today. Yes, I did attend the previous week's tutorial, but I mainly sat back and allowed the graduate tutors to conduct the tutorial. I am, after all, a mere student tutor. The hierarchy states that graduate tutors are higher than student tutors, and I happen to respect that hierarchy. This is said with all due sincerity.

I was, however, appalled at the conduct of the tutorial the previous week. It wasn't what I had in mind for an English class tutorial at university level. In the two graduate tutors' defense, it was their first time conducting such a tutorial and their department simply doesn't emphasise the type of critical thinking that the current lecturer emphasises on. I have had the fortune (and at times misfortune) of being under this particular lecturer, Ms Y, for over three classes. I should hope to have been trained to a certain degree in critical thinking by now.

Needless to say, I got the reigns today at conducting the tutorial. I had prepared myself the week before, recapped on the preparation earlier today and ran through the little details with Ms Y before the tutorial. I was as ready as I was ever going to be for my first official tutorial with an actual class--not a small group tutorial as I had done before.

I approached them, jumped into the work load after a brief outline and divided the class into groups of threes to work on the assigned article. Their task was to read the assigned three paragraphs, to analyse it and come up with a possible topic sentence to the paragraph as well as the supporting points. And should they choose to not appoint a paragraph a topic sentence, they should explain why. The article was the speech "I Have A Dream" by Martin Luther King Jr. (1963).

They got their fifteen minutes of discussion time. I got my fifteen minutes of wiling my time away. The two graduate tutors sat at the back of the room in a mimic of myself the week before. After fifteen minutes, I asked the first group to come up and to write their topic sentence down along with their following points on elaborations. They tried hard, I could see that, and I'm glad they did. They didn't however correctly identify the full topic sentence.

You see, the first paragraph had no topic sentence due to it being a mere greeting and attention grabber. The second one had an inferred topic sentence. I went about with my Socratic questioning and hinting and got the class to throw out bits and pieces of the inferred topic sentence. I wrote it on the board. That's when things started getting ugly.

The next group came up to write their stuff down and the third one did as well, just to kill time. I noticed the graduate tutors motioning me to the back. So I went. They asked in that female, Asian manner if I should have taught them to infer the topic sentence. Their argument was that if it wasn't in the text, it shouldn't be made up. I explained that the text did have a topic sentence, merely an inferred one. They adamantly tried to convince me otherwise. We were on different wavelengths, obviously.

Still, as much as I was convinced that I was right--after all, I had just learnt that in class last week from Ms Y herself--a little niggling doubt started to worm its way through my brain. What if they were right? What if it's not supposed to be this way? What should I do? I already taught them to infer. Did I just muck up? What if I had gone ahead of myself and the inferring should have been left for a higher level?

I went back to the front of the class much more subdued than before. And I suspect it did affect the way I conducted the class and how interesting it was to the students. You see, a lecturer, or in my case--tutor's, mood is infectious. Lead by example, they say. Well, I was trying my best to be upbeat and to make sure they weren't bored. I'm not sure I succeeded. Someone fell asleep. Most kept quiet. I was, and am, so utterly glad there were a few students who were willing to speak up. Either way, the tutorial finished with me feeling ever so slightly down.

Afterwards, I rushed back to block E to have a run through with Ms Y in a panic. I respect her a lot and was afraid, in some ways, that I had mucked up and that I would have disappointed her. I was afraid that if she had to do damage control, I would look like a fool in front of the students. I have my pride, ladies and gentlemen, and it's the one thing that has stayed with me throughout the years of hardship. I had to earn it through other trials and I'm not about to see it tarnished with ease.

I explained the situation to her, after sneaking in through the department with the air of someone who's uncertain about me; deliberately, I might add, little illegal immigrant that I am. That's another story for another day, however. So, I explained what happened to her. And Ms Y said, "Yeah, that's right. Of course you teach them to infer."

My reaction was one of utmost relief. It really was. She read the passage again, and said, "No, you're right! It is a claim," to my little explanation of self-doubt. Now she feels somewhat miffed at the graduate tutors, possibly because she takes teaching very seriously, possibly because she's slightly biased towards me, possibly a lot of things. Either way, she will be there at tomorrow's tutorial when they are supposed to be conducting it since I have a clashing class then. So everything should be fine, since she knows how to conduct such classes better than most others.

Now, the point behind this little regurgitation of what happened is not, as some might think, a gripe session where I point my fingers at the graduate tutors and utter curses at non-existent stupidity. It isn't a little session where I fish for compliments nor sympathy. Indeed, I wouldn't be surprised if one were to think so. After all, the former is extremely common for me, the latter I'm not sure.

No, this session of regaling a tale is to point out the fact that i still have my insecurities, and likely many others do as well. I should have believed in myself today, but I didn't. I shouldn't have let them get to me, but I did. The thing is, I should have learnt this lesson years ago, and in many ways I have. but I suppose when the hierarchy harps on your conscience and inexperience as well as general respect for the critiques rear their ugly heads at us, we tend to forget our lessons and allow self-doubt to burrow into our minds. I know I did. And I know that I am going to take this to heart. Oh, I won't be stubborn and think that whatever they say can't be right if it's opposing my views. But I'm not about to roll over and leave my belly vulnerable to attack either. Instead, I'm going to try my best to remind myself that whatever happens, it can be remedied; and that I should have more faith in my own abilities from now on. Especially when it concerns the English language, something I am profoundly passionate about.

And so, this has been a somewhat harrowing day, but still, an insightful one as well.