Just about six
years ago I began working as an RA for the Human Development Institute. I was enrolled in the Special Education
Teaching Program for Learning and Behavior Disorders. For two years I worked as an RA while I
attended college and completed the program.
When I told my supervisors that I would need to return to work full-time
after student-teaching, they asked me to stay and work for ILSSA (Inclusive
Large Scale Systems of Assessment).
Well, I wanted to teach, but they offered me more money, and as my
husband wasn’t working, and we have four children, I decided to stay at the
university. That began a period of
several years, right up to this very moment as a matter of fact, of feeling a
sense of low self-efficacy. It began
with work developing assessment items, which had been literally the only academic
assignment I had ever failed in my life!
I thought; how can this be? I’m
going to asked to do the one thing that I really can’t do? Now, my professor had allowed me to repeat that
failed assignment, after he explained what it was that he was really looking
for, and I had done very well; but I wasn’t convinced.
So, I managed to
make it through the item writing and it actually went very well, and I began to
assume other duties at ILSSA, but I was still not confident of my
abilities. My colleagues were all
brilliant, they had all been working in the field of severe disabilities for
years (I think 12 years was the minimum amount of experience of any single
co-worker.). I constantly felt like I was
a few steps behind, a position that made me uncomfortable. However, my supervisors had confidence in me. Their general theory of management was “Let
individuals rise to the height of their incompetence.” Just kidding, actually their approach was
more like the methods that are discussed in the Pajares article. They challenged my underconfidence and set
proximal goals. They praised genuinely
but not often, so when they did offer a word of encouragement; it really meant
something to me. They had, and still do
have, very high expectations. They
believed I could do it, and that compelled me to try. They offered support and challenge.
Since the first
item-writing experience I have presented at a University conference in
Pennsylvania (What? I can’t do that!), co-authored a book chapter (What? I can’t
write a book!), directed several scoring centers (What? I don’t know the first
thing about scoring!), conducted numerous large trainings (What? I can’t teach
this!), worked with a system database designer to test three extensive
assessment and training systems (What? I’m not good at technology!), and facilitated
many processes that I had never been involved with before the moment I showed
up as a facilitator. As I write this I
am beginning work on a new project and I’ve been asked to lead ILSSA’s design
team in our work on a national assessment system. I think that my feelings of inefficacy have
stemmed from the fact that I have always been surrounded by people of
tremendous intellect whom I perceived as having more, and more relevant,
experience. Many of the individuals I
work with have doctorate degrees and I have always thought of them as
better-educated. And yet, they believe
that I can do it. Maybe I have the imposter syndrome?
Perhaps my sense of
self-efficacy is not as low as I have believed.
In my statistics class last fall our professor asked us to pick ONE
adjective that we felt best described ourselves. I chose “determined”. If I am nothing else, I am determined, and
isn’t that a characteristic of an individual with a strong sense of
self-efficacy, “because self-efficacy is not so much about learning how to
succeed as it is about learning how to persevere” (Pajares, 2005, p. 345).
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