We keep some of our keyboarding materials in a big dented metal cabinet, imprisoned by a combination lock. When I told her the combination, my colleague (I'll call her Betsy) solemnly proclaimed, “I can't do it. Not gonna happen.”
“What?” I said, taken aback.
“I can't open those things. I can't do it. Not gonna happen.”
We walked out of the classroom and stood in front of the metal cabinet. She stared bleakly at the lock. “I can't do it. Not gonna happen.”
“Try it.”
She gingerly touched the lock. She turned the knob as if it were a handle on a jack-in-the-box, like any moment a leering evil head on a spring was going to jump out at her and make her look like an idiot. She cautiously turned the knob again, and then gave it a weak yank. It didn't open. “See? I told you. I can't do it.”
I refused to take her word for it. I muscled her out of the way and grabbed the lock. I twisted it expertly.
“Like this. To the right, then back to the left, then right again, and stop.” I stood aside and made a motion that she should pull the lock open. It opened, of course. She looked resigned. “I told you.”
I stared at her for a moment, wondering how she had managed to survive life thus far. Then I briskly implemented Plan B.
“No problem!” I said brightly. “See this file cabinet? We keep a few in the top drawer. Just make sure you have at least five books in here and you'll be fine.”
That was how our “training session ” began. I'll tell you how it ended in another post, if I remember. What did I learn? I'm not sure. When a student says, “I can't do it. Not gonna happen,” should I take her at her word? Or should I hold the possibility of success for her, until she can achieve it for herself?
