Patrick Xue

05/01/2024

Writing 109ED

Overcoming Trauma: shifting growth mindset in classroom

“How could you still not understand this math problem even though I explained it so

many times?” My middle school math teacher grabbed my ears, twisted 360 degrees forward and

360 degrees backward, twice. My ears were immediately flushing and burning. I failed to hold

back my tears and did not tell anybody what happened, even my parents. Such trauma had long

become a scar in my mind, and this created the negative mindset, as Hammond stated in his

article, the microaggression that those small, seemingly innocuous, brief verbal, behavioral, or

environmental indignities send hostile, derogatory, denigrating, and hurtful messages to people

(Hammond). Sometimes I could still clearly see what was happening in my nightmare.

That was a Friday afternoon. The entire class was having math office hours. Mrs. Luci

was sitting in the middle of class, staring at everyone, and yelled: “If you want to ask me

questions, come to my office. I do not want to waste my time here.” Her shadow disappeared as

soon as she walked out of the classroom.

Everyone looked at each other, but no one wanted to be the first target, neither did I, even

though I had questions about the math homework related to limits. After a while, two or three of

my classmates acted as brave souls, walking out of their seats and going to Mrs. Luci’s office. I

felt a pang of relief mixed with a tinge of guilt for not being as courageous. I watched intently at
the window, waiting for them to come back and seeking out any changes in their facial

expressions. To my surprise, they walked back calmly and started to work on their homework. I

could not discern anything from their faces. Inspired by their success, I summoned the courage to

join them. As I approached, my heart pounded, and my palms sweated. I tried to solely focus on

asking about the problem itself.

As I walked into the office, the room was so quiet. No one was talking, except for the

sound of tapping on the keyboard. I walked close to Mrs. Luci, stood next to her, and found the

perfect time to ask, “Hi Mrs. Luci, I have questions about Question 7. I do not know what to do.

Can you please give me some advice?” One minute later, she stopped tapping her keyboard and

looked at the problem I was asking about. She said, “What method do you think we should use

here?” “L'Hôpital's Rule?” I murmured, not confident in what I just said. “Okay, what is the limit

of the denominator?” I looked closely at the problem, my heart beating so fast, and my brain felt

empty. I tried to solve it in my mind, but I failed. “This is such an easy problem. What is the

limit of cos 3x?” she started to get angry, her voice rising. At that moment, I couldn't think of

anything. I was standing there, unable to answer the question. Suddenly, she grabbed my ears,

twisting them 360 degrees forward and backward, twice. “We went over this in class! How dare

you not remember?” She grabbed my pen, wrote down the steps on a piece of paper, and said,

“Copy this 5 times on your own and you can remember” I left the classroom, and tears streamed

down my face uncontrollably. The microaggression was ignited for me when she framed my

differences as deficits rather than as assets (Hammond), and the negative mindset has been

rooted in my heart from that moment, and it has long lived inside my soul.
 Six years later, I walked behind my mentor toward my first class, as a rookie high school

math teacher assistant. Even though my mentor kept telling me to relax, extreme nervousness

and tension surged in a flash, and my legs were both shaking. As described by Hammond, this is

an example of negativity bias: “Negative experiences like this can be remembered and responded

to up to three times more than positive experiences” (Hammond). Memories of the past were still

fresh. No one was talking in the classroom. I greeted them haltingly: “Hi guys. I am... your new

math teacher…” Yet no one was talking. After so many years, my scar suddenly ached at this

moment. I started to doubt myself whether I could be a good math teacher assistant.

Suddenly, my mentor tapped me on the shoulder. He pointed at the student raising his

hand, “Go! You can do it.” The student was asking me a question about the limit: “To find the

limit of sin3x/x when x is approaching 0”. I realized it was one of my strongest topics. The roles

were reversed. I should teach him and I can do so. I wrote out the steps to a solution on a piece of

paper quickly and told him some rules and tricks: Multiply the top and bottom of the expression

by 3 and substitute a letter for 3x. Although he had not comprehended at this point, instead of

being strict with students physically, I encouraged him and explained again and again, until the

student was satisfied with his work. “Thank you so much.” At the first time when I heard this,

tears welled up in my eyes. I was not afraid of the dreadful scar on my heart anymore.

Every time I am facing problems, I think of this experience and how I handled it on my

own: I successfully shifted my negative mindset into a positive one. One of the strategies that I

applied to overcome such trauma is self-efficacy, “the notion of an ‘I think I can’ philosophy

affects how we feel, think, and act as learners” (Hammond). Overcoming a trauma or a difficulty
is hard, but what I developed is bravery and growth as a person. With this experience, I took one

step out of my comfort zone with courage, putting trust in myself and my ability by

self-motivating and being persistent. Also, another element of self-efficacy is that “I can succeed

at this” (Hammond). By teaching my students math, the power of my interest gave me

confidence. If I had not offered help with a problem, I would not have been able to conquer my

fear.

Not only have I turned my negative mindset into positive, but also I tried my best to help

my students develop a growth mindset. As Hammond suggests in his article, there are a couple of

strategies that I used to help students learn with a growth mindset. First of all, he states that

“notice and acknowledge students when they are acting according to the elements of academic

mindsets. Because the brain has a negativity bias, the student will gloss over evidence that he is

making progress despite not reaching his goal” (Hammond). My responsibility and caring for

people as a teacher have also become essential. During tutoring, I always pay attention to

catching students in the act of being self-directed learners and taking intellectual risks and

encourage them to continue acting like this by asking questions, putting forth effort, and learning

from their errors. Secondly, he indicates “the importance of helping students interrupt negative

self-talk since they consider trying something new to feel risky” (Hammond). I actively assist

them in changing the way they think by highlighting the fact that errors are opportunities for

learning and a normal part of the process. My goal is to empower students to explore new ideas

and take risks without fear of failing by fostering a supportive environment. Seeing people’s

smiles after helping them could make me cheerful.

a negativity bias, has transformed into a growth mindset as I have become a math teacher.

Through my experiences, I have helped my students develop a growth mindset by interrupting

negative self-talk and noticing and acknowledging their efforts during learning. I have continued

teaching my classmates math and plan to tutor more students in the future, helping them develop

their growth mindset throughout my life.

Hammond, Zaretta. “Culturally Responsive Teaching and the Brain.” CORWIN, 2015.