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Humiliation
Image Source: Fox Broadcasting Company

 

 

My husband and I watch a lot of cooking competition shows. We started with Hell’s Kitchen, then moved on to MasterChef. And most recently, we’ve started watching CNBC’s Restaurant Startup. In the latter two, we have seen the weekly antics of a man named Joe Bastianich, a highly successful restaurateur whose conduct makes Gordon Ramsay’s tantrums look harmless.

Watching Joe lately has got me thinking about a certain kind of teacher.

Here’s the Bastianich method: While taking in a mouthful of the contestant’s food, he locks eyes with them—you can almost hear him thinking, “Give them the signature look, Joe.” If he doesn’t like the contestant’s food, he will berate them for it, calling it disgusting, telling contestants they should be ashamed. But that’s just basic, run-of-the-mill Simon Cowell fare; Bastianich goes a step further by getting physical.

I don’t mean that he physically hurts the contestants—he does stuff to their food, to the dishes they just spent the last hour carefully putting together, and by doing so he takes things to a whole new level of disrespect: He’ll pick up a forkful of risotto, hold it high in the air and let it dribble and spatter all over the plate like so much cow dung. He’ll smash a dessert to pieces, until it looks like roadkill. He’ll grab an entree and hurl it straight into the trash, smashing the plate in the process, just to make his point.

But it was this week’s Restaurant Startup that really did it for me. (Scroll to the 37 minute mark to watch this scene.)

In a meeting with two pasta entrepreneurs, a pair whose company he was just about to invest seventy-five thousand dollars in, Bastianich picked up a box of their pasta…

 


Image Source: CNBC

 

tore it open…

 


Image Source: CNBC

 

then, saying there was “no love in this box,” dumped the entire box of pasta on the table in front of them:

 


Image Source: CNBC

 

Oh Joe. You are such a badass.

It makes for good TV, yes, and I’m sure his producers love it, but to me, it doesn’t look badass at all. It looks weak and cruel. Bastianich is in a position of power, he has money and success, and he abuses it by doing things he can only get away with because of that power. These two guys hadn’t done anything to deserve that; they were excited about their product and needed guidance about the best way to launch it. And in response, because he’s Joe Bastianich and that’s just how he rolls, he pulled a stunt like that.

Just gross.

 

So here’s my question for everyone who teaches, everyone who coaches, everyone who stands before another person in the name of mentoring or guiding or instructing them in any way: Are you a Bastianich? Do you ever behave in ways that are more about you than about your students? Do you overdo it, put on a big show, humiliate students for the sake of making a name for yourself? Because it builds your rep and makes students fear you? Because, in a sense, it makes for good TV?

 

Have you ever…

called a student’s question stupid?

read a student’s paper out loud to a class to illustrate a mistake (anonymously or not), and maybe gone too far in making fun of it?

cracked a joke about a student’s appearance?

revealed some aspect of a student’s personal life for the sake of humor?

torn a student’s paper or thrown it into the trash in front of them or other students?

thrown chalk or a marker or anything else across the room to get students’ attention?

assigned a punishment that would publicly embarrass a student, like wearing something silly or doing something embarrassing in a public place?

 

If this list sounds nothing like you, that’s a good thing. It means you hold your students’ hearts in high regard and would never do anything to hurt them. It also means you conduct yourself like a fricking grown-up. But many others might recognize themselves here, somewhere. Some of these behaviors are harsher than others, but all of them have one thing in common: They are motivated by our desire to communicate something about ourselves, to build our own reputation—a reputation for being funny, for being smart, for being “real,” for being someone not to be messed with.

 

Does it work? Sometimes. It gets your point across. It stops undesirable behavior, at least in the short term. It most definitely teaches a certain type of lesson. And if you’re trying to prepare your students for an even meaner world, well, you’re no doubt accomplishing that.

But it doesn’t produce meaningful learning. In fact, it changes the subject altogether: If you humiliate someone, their focus moves away from the matter at hand. Instead of thinking about the long-term repercussions of not doing homework, about why they should not socialize at certain times, or even about why using raw flour in a sauce is a no-no, that student is now focused on how much they can’t stand you.

Now sometimes you get a student who you think deserves to be taken down a couple of pegs, to be put in their place, and public humiliation might really teach them a lesson. But I believe it is only a skilled few who can accomplish this with enough finesse that they actually help that student become a better person. And isn’t that what our goal should be, ultimately? If we are true masters of our craft, shouldn’t we be able to effectively shut down a disruptive student and maintain our own dignity? Shouldn’t we model the behavior we want to see?

I’m thinking yes. I’m thinking I don’t want that much adrenaline in my classroom. I don’t want the well-intentioned students to fear making mistakes because it means risking public ridicule, and I don’t want the rougher students experiencing yet another crappy role-model, and contemplating ways they can beat me at my own game. I have had my Bastianich moments, but I’m pretty sure they came at a cost, whether I knew it or not.

So the next time you’re about to make that big gesture, throw that marker or shut a student up with one of your signature put-downs, ask yourself whether you’re doing it for the student or for yourself. Go into it knowing what you’re doing. Because sometimes, a pile of pasta is more than just a pile of pasta. ♦

 

I have lots of other good stuff coming.
If you found this article worth your time, I’d love to have you come back for more. Join my mailing list and get weekly tips, tools, and inspiration — in quick, bite-sized packages — all geared toward making your teaching more effective and joyful. To thank you, I’ll send you a free copy of my new e-booklet, 20 Ways to Cut Your Grading Time in Half. I look forward to getting to know you better!

 

13 Comments

  1. jfp says:

    While I agree with your discussion of humiliations that teachers might inflict on students and the affect it could have on them, I question using Joe B and Restaurant Startup as the example. Joe B is NOT a teacher. His role in this show is to hand over money to help a good business plan succeed. As a businessman, he wants to make money on the deal. Eventually.

    These two kids wanted money, but truly hadn’t researched their product enough to know its strengths and weaknesses. Instead of putting effort into understanding and perfecting the chickpea pasta [does it hold up in sauce well? does thicker work better than thinner? Do any sauces completely ruin it? make it sing?]. Some of these points actually came out in the tasting that they held with local food marketers.

    And they questioned the value that Joe B – a member of one of today’s most famous and reputable Italian restaurant families – could possibly bring to their product. The pasta boys actually questioned whether Joe B truly understood how people ate! Frankly, IMO, these boys made this product for themselves and their friends, not for busy families who have an hour to gather the kids, sports equipment, eat, and do some homework. They have more product work to do, and that was the point that Joe B made REPEATEDLY during the show. Pouring out the contents of the box was, I believe, his last attempt to get their attention.

    So, all in all, two MBA marketing whiz kids failed to impress with their product, and failed to understand that it needed improvement, yet Joe B was willing to work with them if they gave him a decision making role on the board. I don’t think they agreed to that, did they?

    Frankly, I’d be interested in this. But at 4.00 a box, it’ll have to cook perfectly, stay at the right texture for awhile, and be absolutely delicious!

    • Hi. Okay, in the Restaurant Startup context, you have a point — Joe is not really serving in any kind of mentoring capacity. But I have been watching him on Master Chef for years, and he pulls the same crap on that show as well. It could be argued that he is a judge on that show, and not a mentor, but the show does ultimately constitute a learning environment much of the time. And shockingly, Gordon Ramsay usually does a nice job of supporting and mentoring the contestants on that show — he gives them guidance and support, and pep talks when they really start to lose it. Most of the time, Bastianich is all about himself, and he seems to relish humiliating the contestants. The pasta move on Restaurant Startup was, for me, just one more example of that kind of behavior.

      Some of the details you’re referring to in the RS episode I hadn’t paid close attention to — and you’re probably right, he might have tried to make the same point over and over again without getting through to them, so maybe he felt that stunt was called for. I think it was childish and mean, and he could have made the same point with a lot more class and still gotten his message across. Probably better, actually, since there wouldn’t be the emotional residue of a tantrum to slough off.

      So the connection to teachers is this: There are most definitely teachers who pull these same kind of stunts, who do dramatic and mean things that kids never forget, but not in a good way. Those people would probably admire a guy like Joe Bastianich. And I think that’s a shame.

      (I thought they did take him up on his offer. I kind of remember being surprised that he even made the offer — it made the pasta dumping that much more pointless.)

  2. jfp says:

    oops – need an edit button.nstead of putting effort into understanding and perfecting the chickpea pasta [does it hold up in sauce well? does thicker work better than thinner? Do any sauces completely ruin it? make it sing?], THESE KIDS DEVELOPED THEIR MARKETING AND REVENUE PLANS.

  3. MM says:

    As a university educator, I enjoy your blog. Just as an aside, try watching Great British Bake-off. A mentoring approach can be just as enjoyable to watch.

  4. Jessica-Robyn says:

    I love this post because it can be applied to so much! Not only for the student-teacher relationship, but the subgroup of the mentor-mentored relationship. As someone who has been on the mentored/student side of things I can tell you that the use of humiliation is still alive and well, (in both subtle and Bastianich ways), especially in groups where there is a hierarchy. Thankfully it’s not something I ever personally experienced in the classroom, but it is a very interesting part of group dynamics. Fantastic post!!

  5. Dawn Rauto says:

    Made me cry. Thanks for reminding me the good will always prevail. If you know what I mean. 🙂

  6. Fantastic post! I’m a 2nd year ELA teacher in need of help. Your post really warms my heart. I totally agree. I also like the analogy!

  7. You address a difficult scenario–the moment a teacher humiliates an adolescent or teenager. I say “difficult” because it is most likely handled behind closed doors if at all. I haven’t been in situations where teachers discuss the possibility. Intentional or not, moment of weakness or not, one incidence can cross the line into abuse. You put yourself out there with this post. Much respect.

  8. Paul Sternschein says:

    I agree totally with this practice; I used to throw out my remarks to what I thought were deserved students. The reason? To be thought of as funny, or to make the class more entertaining.
    Last Spring I picked up some of the most valuable tip from the program “Orange is the New Black”. While one veteran prison guard was training a newbie, he stated, ” if it makes you feel good, don’t say it”. A revelation went through my mind.
    This past school year i refrained, kept my comments to myself and experienced one of my best (20+) years of teaching.

  9. Lindsay says:

    I’ve done the thing where kids are talking to their friend while I’m explaining (I do dance in public schools) then I turn and say “you were talking, so I’m not sure you got that” and they will say “yes I did.” So I’ll tell them to prove it. At that point they either acknowledge they weren’t listening or they try to do it and it’s totally wrong and everyone sees that. Is this somehow a bad thing? I would consider it using public embarrassment to my advantage but I don’t see it fitting in with the descriptions you’ve written here. To me that is a logical consequence of their choice…
    And of course this type of interaction only happens after we’ve gone over expectations for the class and why it is helpful and more fun for everybody if you listen respectfully when I’m talking etc. etc.

  10. Tomi Cunningham says:

    Humiliating others with loud, crass gestures, mocking, denigrating, bullying — all of these have become the currency of reality TV. We have just witnessed the consequences of how it has enabled a culture which accepts meanness over kindness and understanding.

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