Is Perfectionism a Problem?

Dear colleague,

Perfectionism is a tough topic. There are so many amazing human beings in education who are very much on the perfectionism spectrum. So before I say anything, let me be clear that I'm not picking on anyone or denigrating those of us with a special sense and expectation for excellence.

That said, let's begin with a definition.

Part I: What is perfectionism?

I like this one from the APA:

perfectionism. n. the tendency to demand of others or of oneself an extremely high or even flawless level of performance, in excess of what is required by the situation. It is associated with depression, anxiety, eating disorders, and other mental health problems.

There are a couple words in this definition that matter to you and me (folks who want to be good teachers while having good lives).

• Tendency — Perfectionism isn't a black and white deal. I think a lot of us have tendencies toward perfectionism given the right triggering circumstances. Labeling someone a perfectionist isn't helpful; it's something we have to realize about ourselves.
• Demand — Here's the core problem engine of perfectionism. It acts like a soul-level demand and can become a draconian taskmaster. It is not merciful or gracious. This is why it's often associated with depression, anxiety, and other mental health problems.
• Extremely high or flawless levels of performance, IN EXCESS OF WHAT IS REQUIRED BY THE SITUATION — (Ahem. Sorry for raising my voice on that last bit.) You might notice there that the latter phrase is what stands out to me. A central essence of my approach to teaching (and living) comes down to appraising a situation accurately, determining what is possible given that situation, and then deciding how much effort and energy I'm able to spend pushing toward (or beyond) what is possible in the given situation.

Part II: Real practically, what does perfectionism look like in teaching?

All kinds of things, like:

• Extremely high or even flawless standards for students
• Extremely high or even flawless standards for ourselves or our colleagues
• Extremely high or even flawless standards for our administrators
• Extremely high or even flawless standards for parents and guardians

These are problematic for lots of reasons:

• They create large amounts of pressure, on both the perfectionist and the object of their perfectionism. I need lots of things in a given day of teaching, but more pressure isn't one of them.
• They are unrealistic, humans being what they are. I think maybe in other careers, it's possible to be perfect. Maybe in computer programming. Or working at the post office. Or painting. I'm not sure about those areas — I just know that, in the area of teaching, the number of variables you're faced with makes perfection an unrealistic goal. 35 students X 4 sections X 8 years of prior education X etc. = a lot of variables. This is part of what makes teaching students a fearful and wonderful endeavor.
• They lead to drains on time and energy. I can still picture sitting with my assigned mentor as a first-year teacher in Baltimore. I had my to-do list out on the table between us, and I asked her, “How am I supposed to be able to do all these things I need to do?” I don't remember what she said, but it amounted to, “You're not. You have to decide.” Perfectionism blocks us from being able to separate the wheat from the chaff; perfectionism just whispers, “Nah, we'll make time. We'll do it all. We can.” (This is why satisficing is so important for teachers.)
• They increase our fear of taking risks. If I think of myself proudly as a perfectionist and I'm faced with a daunting task in which I lack total control (e.g., teaching), hoooooey am I going to find all kinds of ways to avoid taking risks because those risks threaten my sense of who I am.
• They harm relationships. Don't get me wrong in this article — high expectations are good, especially for ourselves and definitely for our students. But when I demand those expectations be met — either through my words or my actions — it places my relationships at risk. The relationship can become about performance (mine or theirs), not the human connection between us.
• They can make us miss opportunities for growth. I remember being the most unsuccessful student teacher in my cohort at the University of Michigan. I had intentionally sought a difficult student teaching placement, and I sure got one! The problem is, I wasn't up to the challenge. I failed like it was my job. But I hated the failure until one fateful evening when I was sitting at the Little Brown Jug downing a pitcher of Miller Lite with my fellow student teachers. After lamenting aloud to them about yet another failed exploit in the classroom, I muttered, “Well, at least I learned some things that DON'T work today.” And that sentiment really struck me; it's got to be the most profound realization I had in all of college. The perfectionistic side of me can't handle failure; but when I set him aside and give him a Miller Lite to soothe himself, the other part can turn even the worst failure into a means of growth.

So what can we do?

I'm no psychologist, colleague, but I can speak as someone who wrestles with a perfectionistic side from time to time. I find the following things helpful:

• Acknowledge that the perfectionism is there.
• Share it with someone you trust.
• Maybe throw in a Jedi mind trick or two (this article is an oldie but a goodie; it also has a much better telling of the Little Brown Jug Miller Lite story).
• Chuckle at yourself — after all, you don't want to be a perfectionist about not being a perfectionist, right?

You, colleague? You're lovable, just the way you are.

We all are.

Teaching right beside ya,

DSJR

P.S. I'm hosting a live session for school leaders on April 20 called “The Will to Teach.” It's about the Five Key Beliefs applied to teachers — and what leaders can do when the will to teach starts to erode. $29 for individuals, or $99 for a team. [Details and registration here.]