“Learning to compliment others well is a real art. . . receiving any kind of positive feedback (about writing) feels good. Receiving a compliment that gets to the heart of what one was trying to do (as a writer) feels amazing.”
These words marinate in my brain this morning upon reading them in today’s Slice of Life Day #4 Challenge ~ words from Anna Grotz Cockerille’s post, in how we can teach our kids how to compliment one another’s writing.
Lucy Calkins, Donald Graves and Donald Murray teach us to notice something positive that the writer did and name it for them. I begin to think about the teachers in my school who are busy as elves today getting ready for parent/teacher conferences tonight after school. Some are ready and confident. Some are anxious and worry. All are amazing in their own unique ways.
“But, do they know that?” I wonder.
Not only is it important for us to notice and compliment our writers, but it’s equally and more important to pay attention, notice, name and compliment what others do as humans. How often do we pay attention to the positive actions others do? And, if we do take our heads outside of ourselves for a moment to be aware of what’s going on around us and notice it, do we give that someone a compliment SAYING we noticed?
Receiving a compliment that says “You’re awesome” is nice, but the most meaningful compliment is when someone takes the time to let you know they’ve noticed something specific that you did – and named it for you.
It’s the evidence that supports our awesomeness and you know what? Those are the messages our ego needs to hear.
I noticed a teacher being awesome today. She confronted another adult when she disagreed with something that was going on. It took bravery to do that. I’ve seen her be brave like this before. I’m awed by her. I told her so today. I don’t know many adults that go right to the source of a problem when they have one. She does.
She deserved to be noticed and to be complimented on that – specifically.
I don’t know about you, but my ego doesn’t always believe, “You’re awesome.”
Ego usually says to me, “Yeah, right. What did you do? I know frosting on poop when I see it.”
But, now, when someone gives me evidence? That gives me PROOF.
I can then say, “HA! Take THAT, Bernice! See? I AM awesome!!” (btw. . . Bernice is my ego, just incase you didn’t know.)
I challenge you to pay attention, notice and compliment not only other writers today, but other people.