A Lesson in Motivation

I have always been the type of student that needs to make personal connections in order to understand new material. While I’m reading or listening to a lecture, I try to think of someone I know or some experience I have had that connects to the topic. Throughout the past two weeks of this class, I haven’t been able to get my baby sister out of my mind. I order to understand why, you have to know a little background about my sister.

I call her my baby sister because she is so much younger than me, eight years to be exact, and therefore she will always be the baby. She comes from a family of very motivated people; our father raised us to believe that achievement was all that mattered and the only way to achieve was to work hard. It was definitely a message that functioned as a double-edged sword; it forced us to develop a very strong work ethic, but it also made us base much of our self-esteem on our accomplishments rather than who we were a people. At a very young it was obvious to my entire family that Hanna wasn’t going to fit this mold. She didn’t have a whole lot of intrinsic motivation and she had no desire to follow in the footsteps of her two older sisters. This pattern was most evident in her approach to school.

In elementary school, she was an average to strong student and my parents had no cause for worry. Then she hit 6^th grade and some switch within her flipped; she began to describe herself as stupid and incapable. She stopped doing her homework and quit participating in class. Her grades dropped and so did her self-esteem. My parents were worried and decided to have her tested for learning disabilities. At the age of 13, she was assessed as having the short-term memory capabilities of a 4 year-old.

Despite this diagnosis, she never received the educational support she needed and therefore developed very negative attributions about herself and became the queen of self-handicapping strategies. She got involved in a million different activities so that she “never had time to study”. She took on the persona of someone who was forgetful and ditzy; she couldn’t do her homework if she was always forgetting the work at school. Anytime she did well in a subject, it was just because she was lucky. She claimed that all the teachers hated her and the especially terrible ones just wanted to see her fail. As a family, we all had the best intentions to help her, yet we were just reinforcing these attributions in her. We would tell her that all she had to do was work harder and study more; obviously, that strategy didn’t work.

It was her sophomore year of high school that she decided she couldn’t take it anymore. She was failing most of her classes and had become significantly depressed. On her own volition, she decided to research boarding schools. She found a school in Southern California that seemed to fit her needs; it wasn’t a college prep school, but it wasn’t a school for troubled teens either. Somehow, she convinced my parents that she just needed a fresh start and that sending her to boarding school was going to change everything.

As you can expect, it didn’t change everything or take all of her problems away, but it did make a significant difference. She thrived in the small classes and she got her homework done during the mandatory study hall. The next thing I knew, she was talking about going to applying to colleges; all she had to do was retake three classes in summer school. Three classes! I never thought she’d make it, but she did. In her senior year, she applied to colleges and finished up all her graduation requirements. Two weeks ago, she graduation and was chosen to give a speech. Here is an excerpt of what she said:

“My journey began in a small town in northern California; I grew up in a Christian family with two loving parents, and two older sisters. At a young age I did not like school, and this dislike continued through out my middle and high school years. In 7th grade I was told I wasn't smart, and was rarely encouraged by teachers. Once I got to high school this pattern continued. I was told by my advisor that I wouldn't be going to a four-year college and that I should just finish the bare minimum to get out of high school. After two years of this I transferred here, to Southwestern Academy. Upon arriving my attitude toward academics had yet to change. A few weeks into my junior year I knew that this school year would be different. After being dragged into opportunity everyday by my physics teacher, Ms. Brunjes, I asked her if I didn't care about my grade then why should she? She told me that she wanted me to pass, whether I liked it or not. Those words had never been said to me before. A teacher that actually wanted me to pass? After that I realized that with the help of my teachers, I could pass and do well. Now as a senior I am able to go home and tell everyone that had told me that I could never pass an get into a four-year college, that I can and that I did. All of this would never had been possible without a few people here that have helped me through my journey. “

There was the truth that I never knew. It was one teacher who told her she was stupid. It was one teacher who told her she would never go to college. Then, to undo years of damage, it was one teacher who told her that she wouldn’t let her fail. It was one teacher that told her she was capable of succeeding. Somewhere, in my baby sister’s little 18 year-old body, she had let go of all of her excuses and started believing in herself.

What did Hanna teach me on her graduation day? She taught me that attributional rewiring can work and self-handicapping can be overcome. Most importantly, she showed me that teachers and loved ones can make a significant difference for an individual student and change their entire approach to life. This is a lesson in motivation that I carry with me for the rest of my life.