Venting
A number of years ago I told my sister-in-law about a mutual acquaintance that "I think the more she talks about it, the more convinced she is that whatever she's talking about is a BIG THING. I don't think it's in her best interests to give her a chance to make the situation look bigger, so I don't bring it up." As I said it, I knew that what I was saying flew in the face of the oft-stated recommendation to let people "get it out--don't bottle it up." My sister-in-law thought about it a bit and then said, "I think you're right. My sisters and I do that a lot--talk about everything, and it's not always a good thing. It's just a bigger thing when we're done than before."
Today, my private theory got a professional boost when I read in the book by Tavris and Aronson Mistakes Were Made (but not by me) about an experiment done by a clinical psychologist. He believed it would reveal the benefits of venting or catharsis--basically, getting it out and not bottling it up.
In the experiment, he treated two groups of students (each person individually) rather badly in the same kind of way--by showing annoyance and making insulting remarks. While he was doing this, he measured their physiological responses, blood pressure in particular. One group, however, was told that they had the option of reporting to the experimenter's superior anything negative they experienced during the experiment. The group that had the option of reporting had higher blood pressure readings than the other group, and it stayed higher longer. His hypothesis flopped. Catharsis or venting did not help people get over it quicker. Decades of further experimentation have shown similar results.
One of the reasons this behavior is such a problem is that it is often followed by an effort to justify the aggressive response.
I once asked a student how he had broken the bone in his foot. "I made a bad play in basketball so I kicked the wall, and I broke my foot." I don't remember exactly what words he used, but he went on to make it clear that he thought his action was completely justifiable in light of his disappointment and his need for venting. I doubt that his parents, who paid the bill for his medical care, were impressed with his method of choice for dealing with disappointment.
Those weeks on crutches may have done him some good though. He might even be able now to say that the venting was not worth it and it was in fact very foolish, and bottling it up, or just continuing to play hard without acting angry would have been a wiser course of action. (He shows signs of growing up, so I can imagine this positive response.)
I think that letting off steam is highly overrated. Granted, built-up tension begs for relief. The trick is to find it in constructive ways.
Hard physical exercise is one possible release. Entering a serene and relaxing environment might be another. Even conversation with a friend might prove helpful. But I seriously question the value of forceful, loud, or angry words, sounds, or actions for defusing a tense situation.
I suppose that I might continue to give permission for students to go outside to scream after they've handed in their research papers, as long as they do it out of earshot. But it will be because I want them to feel that I am sympathetic--not because I think it will actually do them any real good.
Today, my private theory got a professional boost when I read in the book by Tavris and Aronson Mistakes Were Made (but not by me) about an experiment done by a clinical psychologist. He believed it would reveal the benefits of venting or catharsis--basically, getting it out and not bottling it up.
In the experiment, he treated two groups of students (each person individually) rather badly in the same kind of way--by showing annoyance and making insulting remarks. While he was doing this, he measured their physiological responses, blood pressure in particular. One group, however, was told that they had the option of reporting to the experimenter's superior anything negative they experienced during the experiment. The group that had the option of reporting had higher blood pressure readings than the other group, and it stayed higher longer. His hypothesis flopped. Catharsis or venting did not help people get over it quicker. Decades of further experimentation have shown similar results.
One of the reasons this behavior is such a problem is that it is often followed by an effort to justify the aggressive response.
I once asked a student how he had broken the bone in his foot. "I made a bad play in basketball so I kicked the wall, and I broke my foot." I don't remember exactly what words he used, but he went on to make it clear that he thought his action was completely justifiable in light of his disappointment and his need for venting. I doubt that his parents, who paid the bill for his medical care, were impressed with his method of choice for dealing with disappointment.
Those weeks on crutches may have done him some good though. He might even be able now to say that the venting was not worth it and it was in fact very foolish, and bottling it up, or just continuing to play hard without acting angry would have been a wiser course of action. (He shows signs of growing up, so I can imagine this positive response.)
I think that letting off steam is highly overrated. Granted, built-up tension begs for relief. The trick is to find it in constructive ways.
Hard physical exercise is one possible release. Entering a serene and relaxing environment might be another. Even conversation with a friend might prove helpful. But I seriously question the value of forceful, loud, or angry words, sounds, or actions for defusing a tense situation.
I suppose that I might continue to give permission for students to go outside to scream after they've handed in their research papers, as long as they do it out of earshot. But it will be because I want them to feel that I am sympathetic--not because I think it will actually do them any real good.
posted by Mrs. I at
6:46 PM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home