"Now I've Got You, You SOB," Professor Edition

It is evident that I habitually play the game “Now I’ve Got You, You Sonofabitch!” I certainly don’t enjoy it. I have to stop.  

Bitmoji Sticker

I noticed it a few days ago when an online student asked me for help, but there was an ulterior transaction of “Shame on you!” that was also being communicated. This student said, “Can you help me with _______?” but then added this last little bit as context: “Because you asked for one thing on the assignment and then judged me on another. But it's okay, it happens.”

 

The student sort of skipped over this last part like it was nothing, as if it were an irrelevant detail. “I’m sorry,” I said, “I want to make sure I understand and address both of your concerns. You need help on the assignment AND you feel I was unfair with the grade I have assigned?” The student was reluctant, but they finally admitted that, yes, I had been unfair.

 

Then I self-righteously walked them through the grading rubric and how it was used objectively on their assignment. I asked if they thought I was misinterpreting the rubric, and they said no. The whole time I was stiff in the shoulders and (no doubt) red in the face. I had to call Erica later and complain about it. Five days have passed and I still haven't let it go.

 

I analyzed the exchange two nights ago hoping to discover the mechanics of the game my student was playing that made me feel so horrible. I was sure that I had been the patsy in their cruel game.

But when I looked at it, the only explanation was that I was the one playing games. 

Elements of a game in Transactional Analysis (a la Eric Berne): 

Con + Gimmick = Response à Switch à Payoff

 

The Con is the opening move. This was when I set the trap. I was essentially licking my lips as the student wandered cautiously through my jungle. “Just a few more steps,” I said as I waved them forward. What I actually said was, “Let me make sure I understand you: You want help on the next assignment and you think I was unfair with my grading of the previous assignment?”

 

On the surface, this looks like a straight Adult to Adult exchange of information. But there was an ulterior motive of my own: I wanted this student to admit their belief that I had made a mistake. I knew that I hadn't made a mistake. I wasn’t being sincere at all with my question. I was baiting a trap. It was an impossible situation for the student. They could either admit they were wrong or fall through the leaves and into the hole I'd dug.

 

Anyway, the Gimmick is the flaw in the person for whom the trap is being set. That was this student’s favorite game of “Ain’t it Awful?” This is where Parents sit around and complain about how terrible the world is. This student had reportedly complained about me to one of my colleagues and together they shook their heads disdainfully about how unfair some people can be. The Gimmick was that their situation wasn’t unfair; it was merely undesirable. But they wished that it was unfair. That way they could be pious in their despair.

 

And so I set the trap, and the student fell into it. Their Response was “Yes, you were unfair in your grading procedure.”

 

That’s when I Switch from kindly and sympathetic Uncle Pat to ruthlessly cruel Headmaster Whitehead, and I rub this student’s face in their mistake. The Payoff is hardly desirable: it is my feelings of intense frustration, which lingered for several days (leading me, incidentally, to play the game “Ain’t it Awful” with my wife and father-in-law that afternoon).

Drama Triangle

Another and perhaps simpler way of describing what happened is to use Stephen Karpman’s Drama Triangle.

 

Stephen Karpman's Drama Triangle, Designed here by Me

 

There are three players in the drama game: Persecutor, Rescuer, and Victim. The players’ names are self-explanatory. The Victim is at the bottom and all by themselves, because the Victim is always in control of the others. It’s not alone at the top (peak) because nobody wins the drama game.

 

Drama happens whenever players change positions (from Persecutor to Victim, from Victim to Rescuer, and so on).

 

In my exchange with this student, the student (Victim) accuses me of being a Persecutor. This rankles me wildly, so I flip the script by suggesting that their accusation of me is unfair. I say,“I’m not being the Persecutor. You are.” I self-righteously tell them off while playing Rescuer to my own Victimhood.

 

The student begins as Victim, is shifted to Persecutor by me, then leaves feeling Victimized once more (to go and play “Ain’t it Awful” again with friends and family.”)

 

The only way to end Drama is to avoid it altogether. There is no Victim, no Persecutor, and no Rescuer. These are not legitimate roles. Even the most valiant of Rescuers is Persecutor to some. Robin Hood plays Rescuer to the poor but Persecutor to the rich (and Victim of the Sheriff).

And Again

Just this morning I learned of another student who made an honest mistake and was judged harshly by me in the gradebook. They did not share this mistake with me, but publically proclaimed their Victimhood and how helpless they were made to feel. 

 

And I twice had to stop myself from playing “NIGYSOB.” I realized in myself anger about being labeled “Persecutor.” I evidently resent anybody playing Victim opposite me as Persecutor. 

 

But I’m not a Persecutor and they are not a Victim. These are roles in game play, and I don’t have to play games with my students. I can respond straight from my Adult, which is what I did. I corrected the mistake and gave instructions to the student without any “How dare yous” or “Gimme a breaks.”