Criticism
"Criticism is in the ear of the hearer." (John Lund)
Several years ago, John Lund was in this area, assigned as an Institute instructor. He is a family therapist, who has published a couple of very useful books. A 'class' open to everyone, inviting the members of our adjoining stake, was created on communication skills and held in the stake center where he was teaching. This was once a week, on a weekday evening, and he and his wife were both involved. We got hilarious stories about their marriage and the principles that applied. The chapel and sometimes half the gym were filled every week, so the group served was large.
But this week the topic was criticism. "Criticism is in the ear of the hearer," he stated. It struck me that the statement was analagous to beauty, being in the eye of the beholder. It's not a one-size-fits-all proposition.
'It's not my fault that s/he can't take criticism'--how many times have you heard that, he asked. How many times have you maybe reacted that way to a situation? 'I was only trying to help.'
If we are aware, we are required in charity to take into account the sensitivity of the hearer and the fragility of their self-concept. He startled us with the assertion that there is no such thing as constructive criticism--there may need to be correction, but that's not entirely the same thing. If it's criticism, it's negative.
Two questions to ask yourself before you speak: Is it true, and is it helpful. (Goes for the question of gossip, too.) Add another--is this the right moment? Are you adding an element of humiliation by not waiting for a more private opportunity?
He gave us a challenge to go a week without uttering one negative word. He told us about a couple he had been counseling who had fallen into the habit of sniping at each other, whom he had asked to try to go for a week without any negative responses to each other. They agreed, a little uncertainly, and the husband said something to which his wife did not retort, but rolled her eyes. Then she stopped and her eyes widened slightly. (Uh oh.) "Does that count?" Yup. "This is going to be harder than I thought," she said. We laughed, but identified.
I knew that sometimes I fell into the habit of annoyance, I reacted not because I was actually angry but because I was automatically ready to be displeased when certain buttons were pushed. We all have those buttons--some of them trigger criticism or anger, some trigger self-doubt, withdrawal; I suspect each of us could draw up a list. Annoyance wasn't a very good habit, it was one worth breaking, and I decided to take that challenge to heart.
It was a very prayerful week, I can tell you, keeping the thought uppermost at all times, whatever happens, you can deal with it. You don't need to get mad, you may have to get firm. Squelch the 'why can't you ever's and the 'Again?! !'s that tend to come up, and be constructive.
I made it. There was one brief surprised half-shriek at something (I forget now) that happened, then I acted with a careful grip on my response. Focused on what I would do, considering and praying, I succeeded in being positive in all my family interactions that week. It was a good week, it was occasionally a delightful week. There were still an imperfect husband and children (and self) involved, so there were stresses--stuff still happened, things went mildly wrong, there were sibling squabbles and homework and logistical crises, but it was just stuff, normal and deal-able with the right reference point. Nothing wrenching and traumatic happened to put the family into a major tailspin, and of course that makes a difference. But the training we give ourselves (and of course we try to give our children) really does matter when we are plunged into those situations.
The next week, Brother Lund started by asking how many had taken up his challenge. Some hands went up. How many had succeeded? Three of us, and we got a few seconds to express our experiences. It was a good lesson, and reinforced my desire to put charity to work in my life, at the ordinary, daily-detail level. I'm better at it than I used to be. That's what it's all about, really, in the process of becoming Saints.
Several years ago, John Lund was in this area, assigned as an Institute instructor. He is a family therapist, who has published a couple of very useful books. A 'class' open to everyone, inviting the members of our adjoining stake, was created on communication skills and held in the stake center where he was teaching. This was once a week, on a weekday evening, and he and his wife were both involved. We got hilarious stories about their marriage and the principles that applied. The chapel and sometimes half the gym were filled every week, so the group served was large.
But this week the topic was criticism. "Criticism is in the ear of the hearer," he stated. It struck me that the statement was analagous to beauty, being in the eye of the beholder. It's not a one-size-fits-all proposition.
'It's not my fault that s/he can't take criticism'--how many times have you heard that, he asked. How many times have you maybe reacted that way to a situation? 'I was only trying to help.'
If we are aware, we are required in charity to take into account the sensitivity of the hearer and the fragility of their self-concept. He startled us with the assertion that there is no such thing as constructive criticism--there may need to be correction, but that's not entirely the same thing. If it's criticism, it's negative.
Two questions to ask yourself before you speak: Is it true, and is it helpful. (Goes for the question of gossip, too.) Add another--is this the right moment? Are you adding an element of humiliation by not waiting for a more private opportunity?
He gave us a challenge to go a week without uttering one negative word. He told us about a couple he had been counseling who had fallen into the habit of sniping at each other, whom he had asked to try to go for a week without any negative responses to each other. They agreed, a little uncertainly, and the husband said something to which his wife did not retort, but rolled her eyes. Then she stopped and her eyes widened slightly. (Uh oh.) "Does that count?" Yup. "This is going to be harder than I thought," she said. We laughed, but identified.
I knew that sometimes I fell into the habit of annoyance, I reacted not because I was actually angry but because I was automatically ready to be displeased when certain buttons were pushed. We all have those buttons--some of them trigger criticism or anger, some trigger self-doubt, withdrawal; I suspect each of us could draw up a list. Annoyance wasn't a very good habit, it was one worth breaking, and I decided to take that challenge to heart.
It was a very prayerful week, I can tell you, keeping the thought uppermost at all times, whatever happens, you can deal with it. You don't need to get mad, you may have to get firm. Squelch the 'why can't you ever's and the 'Again?! !'s that tend to come up, and be constructive.
I made it. There was one brief surprised half-shriek at something (I forget now) that happened, then I acted with a careful grip on my response. Focused on what I would do, considering and praying, I succeeded in being positive in all my family interactions that week. It was a good week, it was occasionally a delightful week. There were still an imperfect husband and children (and self) involved, so there were stresses--stuff still happened, things went mildly wrong, there were sibling squabbles and homework and logistical crises, but it was just stuff, normal and deal-able with the right reference point. Nothing wrenching and traumatic happened to put the family into a major tailspin, and of course that makes a difference. But the training we give ourselves (and of course we try to give our children) really does matter when we are plunged into those situations.
The next week, Brother Lund started by asking how many had taken up his challenge. Some hands went up. How many had succeeded? Three of us, and we got a few seconds to express our experiences. It was a good lesson, and reinforced my desire to put charity to work in my life, at the ordinary, daily-detail level. I'm better at it than I used to be. That's what it's all about, really, in the process of becoming Saints.
"...there is no such thing as constructive criticism". Many years ago I heard a speaker say virtually the same thing -- "There is no such thing as constructive criticism; all criticism tends to destruct," was this gentleman's phrase. He also pointed out that criticizing is faster than any other approach, and went on to tell how his young son had torn the leaves off a plant. His first impulse was to yell, he said, but spent the better part of an afternoon helping his son glue the leaves back in place.
ReplyDeleteOne more question I try to remember to ask, Is it kind? (Shortened version of what you said.)
ReplyDeleteYou had a great week. But then you've always been great at being my big sister. (First typed as great big sister and thought, nah, better not... Heh.)