I Was Wrong

Three simple words, but so difficult to say.

Last night, I lay awake, thinking about my “last job” teaching. After ten years at home with our kids, I’d returned to the school where I’d previously taught … but this time as a Response to Intervention and Instruction (RtII) teacher.

RtII was designed to help kids who struggled in the classroom. It had a protocol to determine if a student needed a “boost” due to missed skills, or if he or she could not learn at an appropriate rate and required a different educational environment. In essence, RtII was the gateway to special education. Students could not be tested and given an IEP (Individualized Educational Program) without going through this process.

Close to twenty years ago, the pendulum swung from whole language to hard phonics, concrete skills, and direct instruction. RtII began during this period. Prior, when I was an elementary teacher, we embraced whole language, writing workshops, and integrating various subject matters. But my new position required the exact opposite approach. It became my job to ensure our teachers were well-versed in this method so they could utilize these prescribed skills and follow procedures for students not functioning in their classrooms.

There was resistance from the faculty. But isn’t that normal when introducing change? Despite my great respect for my colleagues, I remained loyal to administrative directives, continuing to try to convince the staff why RtII would help students. I wanted to believe it was good for our kids. I thought this program could make a difference.

But I WAS WRONG.

I didn’t know it then, but I do now.

Last night, it became clear why I misread what was happening. I’d stopped trusting myself. Instead of listening to my intuition about what was best for kids, I followed what the “experts” deemed “evidence based.”

There is a difference between being wrong because you don’t have information and being wrong because you ignore your gut instinct. I suppose it’s human nature to follow those we think are right even when it doesn’t feel that way.

While I do believe RtII may have worked with some kids, I now know it wasn’t right for all. It certainly was not in alignment with many of our teachers’ philosophies. Some of them KNEW. Many were teachers I respected because I’d taught beside them, seen their effectiveness, and witnessed their compassion. Yet, instead of questioning what I was told by those in charge and listening to these wise educators, I continued to tow the party line.

Why hadn’t I paused long enough to ask questions? Whether too busy trying to get across “the agenda” or afraid to consider whether what we were doing was in alignment with my beliefs, I steamrolled ahead. However, RtII wasn’t helping students like we’d hoped. It was only making them hate learning.

Sadly, I’m unable to rewind time. All I can do is admit I was wrong.

As I stared at the ceiling of our bedroom, other examples of not trusting my intuition surfaced. I saw patterns. When I wanted something badly (like the RtII job), I’d shut down my inner knowing and listened to those “above” me, giving away my power, hoping to fit in. But there was more … when I wanted someone to be who they weren’t and it led to a failed friendship because I didn’t see them or listen to the soft voice that has my best interest in mind. Had I paused and allowed my body to feel, I would have realized the truth in these situations.

When we yield to others, especially when knowing their words are not true for us, our soul becomes compromised. We fail to honor ourselves, letting another’s approval supersede our own. This is not to suggest that our way is right for everyone. But if we become quiet and truly listen to the voice within, we discover the path we’re meant to follow.

Just as we must trust our truth, it’s important to honor others’. When we try to convince those around us that we know what’s best, we act as the authoritarian. But we’re not. We only know what’s right for us.

Luckily, my story doesn’t end here. Instead of remaining stuck on all the times I’ve been wrong, I laid in bed recalling moments I’d listened to my intuition. Relationships surfaced… the ones I’d left as well as those I embraced. Next came the major life decisions requiring a leap of faith, those times I’d followed my heart. I remembered when I had wisely waited, knowing the timing wasn’t yet right to proceed. Instead of allowing my ego or impatience to steer me in the wrong direction, I chose to rely on the voice within.

There will always be an expert, a voice of authority that declares his or her way is “right.” But is it “right” for you? Perhaps you see things differently, fully aware that what another says is not your truth. Then trust yourself.

And if you were wrong, don’t feel embarrassed to admit so. While it made me cringe to think that I could have done better for those students, I did the best I could at that stage of life.

However, I’m no longer the same woman. Now conscious of my power to choose, I do my best to trust the voice within.