One sentence from a maths lesson that had almost nothing to do with maths. I have been thinking about it for a month.
A few weeks ago in maths, someone in my class got a question wrong on the board. Not a small wrong. A big, obvious, everybody-saw-it wrong.
The kid went bright red. You know the red.
My teacher didn't say "no, that's wrong." She didn't say "good try." She said, "okay, walk me through it."
The kid walked her through it. About halfway, they went "oh." And they fixed it themselves.
Then my teacher said the thing that stuck. She said, "Getting it wrong out loud is how you get it right in your head. The kids who never put their hand up are the ones I worry about."
I have been thinking about that for weeks.
Because at school, and probably everywhere else, we are taught that being wrong is the bad thing. Being wrong is embarrassing. Being wrong means you didn't study. So the safest move is to say nothing. Keep your hand down. Nod like you get it.
But my teacher is right. The kids who never put their hand up are not the ones who understand everything. They're just the ones who have decided being wrong out loud is scarier than not learning.
This applies to way more than maths. It applies to asking questions in class. Asking questions of grown-ups. Asking questions about politics, or the news, or the Treaty, or anything you're not sure about. If you never ask the wrong question, you don't get to the right one.
Anyway. I put my hand up more now. I get things wrong out loud. It's fine. My teacher was right.