Helping Helpless Students without Playing Their Games

Helping Helpless Students 

“I have no idea what I’m supposed to be doing.”

“I’m soo confused.”

 

In college, we professors are tasked with teaching students how to think for themselves, by which I mean solve problems, analyze data, apply discretion, make decisions, and so on. This is impossible when students are helpless.

 

It’s frustrating, too. We professors—at least the conscientious ones who write or read blog posts about teaching and learning—bend ourselves in half trying to accommodate student ability levels. But I think we’re actually making the problem worse.

 

Helplessness is a game that students are playing at, even though they might not realize it. By playing helpless, students force their instructors to be more explicit, simplifying the work they—the students—have to do. If the goal is for students to think for themselves, the gamified version ends with professors doing the thinking on behalf of the students. Students are short-changed in the process, and they remain dependent on others to do their thinking for them. 

 

Think of it like a con. Students con teachers into doing work on their (the students’) behalf. Most don’t even realize that it’s happening. They’ve learned after hundreds of intereactions with teachers that confusion—feigned or otherwise—makes the problem go away. What I mean is that teachers are perhaps more responsible for the problem than students are. 

 

This blog post is about how to avoid making the problem worse. It’s about how to help helpless students help themselves.

(Note: Game analysis comes from the transactional analysis work of late Canadian psychiatrist Eric Berne.)

 

Elements of a Game

 

In order to understand how games are played in the briefest and simplest of terms, you must first acknowledge that what we say isn’t always what we mean. I can tell you that your outfit looks really nice. This sounds like a compliment: a word of encouragement that makes you feel good about yourself. But it is possible that I am… 

 

·      Being facetious: I actually think your outfit is ugly.

·      Buttering you up: I’m trying to manipulate you into doing a favor for me by saying something nice to you.

 

The Con

Of course you know that we can say one thing and mean another. It’s called being misleading or deceitful. The opposite of deception is honesty or being straightforward—saying exactly what you mean all the time. When you’re being straightforward, you cannot also be playing a game. But if there is deception, then this is the con. 

 

Here’s how the con goes when students play the game of helplessness: they pretend to be more helpless than they are. Or they say that they need help, but what they mean is that you didn’t do a good enough job teaching them. If you were a better teacher, then they wouldn’t be confused.

 

The Gimmick

The con won’t get very far if there isn’t a patsy nearby who will fall for it every time. Just this morning I got a text warning me that the IRS was going to begin garnishing my wages every month unless I texted back. But I’m not worried about the IRS coming after me, so I ignored the text. The con was foiled.

 

In the classroom, professors want to be helpful, which means their hearts ache when students need help. If a student says, “I don’t know,” then professors’ eyes perk up and their attention lands on the poor helpless student. 

 

The Response

“What can I do for you?” we say. We’re hooked. We’re eager to show off just how helpful we can be.

 

The Switch

In an ordinary helping circumstance, the teacher helps the student help themselves. The goal is for the student to become self-sufficient—to develop the confidence and inner resources to solve problems on their own. A student driver must drive. They can’t merely watch someone else do the driving. They have to do it themselves with the guidance and support of another.

 

If, during the helpful interaction, the professor does the work for the student, then a switch has occurred. The student says, “Will you please help me?” but what they have accomplished is, “Do it for me!” But you wouldn’t have been conned if what they started off with was, “Hey you! Do it for me!”

 

The Cross-up

As the helpful professor is anxiously attending to their helpless student, they will begin to realize that the student is severely handicapped—or at least it seems this way. A helpful suggestion is met with, “I still don’t get it,” and dialogue is impossible. The helpless student gets the professor feeling flummoxed and possibly embarrassed about their inability to be helpful.

 

The Payoff

The game ends one of three ways:

1.     The professor recognizes the game and refuses to participate. Then the student must solve their own problem.

2.     The professor becomes frustrated at the difficulty of the problem while the student gets to watch.

3.     The professor avoids frustration by doing the work for the student while the student looks at social media.

 

Putting it into Practice

You might be thinking, “But I don’t get it,” and you may be sincere in that. Then I’ll ask you, “What is it that you’re having trouble with?”

 

Think about your next response. Do you exaggerate the difficulty you’re experiencing by using hyperbole. Does your voice become whiny and pathetic? Give it a try. Try to be as pathetic as possible. Try to get me to say, “There, there. Everything is going to be okay. Let me do it for you.”

 

Now notice how different this response is: “I do understand the bit about being deceitful. That makes sense. But I can’t see why a student would say they need help when they don’t. Can you give me an example?”

 

With this second response, you’re taking ownership of where the confusion is. This makes it much easier for me to address the problem. But if you say, “NONE of it makes sense,” then I won’t know if it’s the language you don’t understand, the pace at which I’m speaking, and so on.

 

What to Do with Helpless Students

 

When a student is helpless, try to avoid jumping with help. Acknowledge what they’ve said and see if they’re willing to work with you to resolve the problem. If they jump in with threats and criticisms, then you’ll know it’s a game, and that they don’t really want to learn.

 

The same goes when working with faculty, including myself. I’m not immune from playing games.