What Teaching Has Taught Me About Growth
Most of us don’t stay stuck because we’re not trying.
And even when we start to see what might be holding us back, we are not always sure how to move forward.
I’ve been a teacher for years. In this role, you are expected to have the answers.
When I moved from working with middle school students to graduate students, something changed. I couldn’t just deliver content or instruction anymore. That approach didn’t go very far.
I had to become more of an encourager, a facilitator, a coach.
It took time to stop thinking about what I needed to say and start paying attention to what they needed.
Over time, I realized this wasn’t just about the classroom.
The moments that mattered most were not when I was doing the talking. They were when I was walking alongside someone in the middle of their learning, their questions, and their growth.
I didn’t grow up with a lot of memorable coaches, but I did have one in ice skating, Coach Jim. And he said something that stuck with me:
“The more you fall, the harder you’re trying.”
At the time, I remember thinking…HUH?
The more I fail, the better I become?
Now I get it.
Lately, I’ve also been watching Friday Night Lights, and I’m fascinated by Coach Taylor. His style is different. He’s tough, but his players know he has their back no matter what. There’s a partnership there. He leads, but he also sees them. He reads them. He believes in them, sometimes more than they believe in themselves.
And that’s what I keep noticing. The focus isn’t on the coach. It’s on the person in front of them.
Right now, I mentor new faculty at GCU. In many ways, it feels like coaching. I sit in on their classes, often like a fly on the wall, present but unseen.
But here’s the hard part. Coaching means calling things out, even when someone doesn’t want them called out.
Most of us don’t see our own blind spots. And even when we start to, we don’t always want to name them. It’s just not in our nature to focus on them.
That’s where the right person can make all the difference. Someone willing to point it out and then stay with us through the growth.
We can call it teaching, coaching, mentoring. They all overlap.
But at the core, it’s about having someone who sees what we can’t or aren’t willing to look at.
Because while we’re all equal in our worth, we’re not all equal in our strengths. And sometimes a weakness can quietly become a stronghold, a blind spot, or something that holds us back physically, mentally, or emotionally.
For me, it showed up physically. I was stuck in something that kept me sick for years. And if I’m honest, I didn’t fully see it at the time, or maybe I wasn’t willing to see the whole picture. It took a long, winding road to even begin to understand what was going on.
Looking back, I can see how much I would have benefited from someone who could see what I couldn’t. Someone willing to say it and then walk with me through it.
It might not have taken so long. But looking back, I can see God was doing something in it, even when I didn’t understand it at the time.
We need each other. Not necessarily a formal coach or mentor, but someone willing to walk alongside us, someone who sees us clearly, tells us the truth, and doesn’t walk away.
Because sometimes, the difference between staying stuck and moving forward
is simply having the right person beside you.
And if I’m honest, this is what years of teaching have shown me. The real lessons don’t come from having the answers.
Sometimes it’s about being willing to be a student, to face your own blind spots and do the hard work of getting unstuck.
Only then can you truly walk alongside someone else in theirs.