The Hot Seat
This entry was originally posted on 29 May 2003 at 12:18 p.m.
When i was in fourth grade, my class was subjected to a practice called "the hot seat." It consisted of one student being chosen at random (or maybe it was alphabetically, i don't remember) to sit on a stool (the hot seat) at the front of the classroom, facing the chalkboard so as not to see the other students. Then the rest of the class would be allowed to voice any criticisms they had of that student while maintaining their anonymity. The rules were that the person sitting in the hot seat could not turn and look at the class, and that the students who were doing the criticizing were not allowed to use the words "never" or "always." The intended result of this practice was that the kid in the hot seat would end up being humbled and more self-aware without losing self-esteem.
I don't know how well it worked. There are more resilient kids and less resilient kids, kids who take that kind of criticism to heart and kids who can brush it off without a second thought. And i wonder: did anyone actually learn anything from this? And if they did learn anything, was it about themselves or others?
I've been thinking a lot about that bizarre experience for the last day or two. And it made me wonder--what is the Internet if not an informal hot seat in its own right, a free-for-all where people get to know one another on more or less anonymous terms, then pick one another apart for their quirks?
The one time i was on the hot seat, i managed to surprise the class by recognizing the voice of one of my criticizers and addressing that kid by name. The teachers and the students were all sort of stunned that i'd managed to figure out who was talking to me--this was supposed to be anonymous, after all. There was some consternation, and then the room fell silent. I don't think anyone wanted to play anymore. And i wonder who was more humbled by the end of that session: me or the kid i named.
I don't know whether there's a lesson in there somewhere. Maybe it's this: anonymity makes some people much braver than they would normally be. Or maybe it's this: anonymity doesn't make criticism any easier to take, though it does make it easier to dish out.
Or maybe it's this: you're never really anonymous.
When i was in fourth grade, my class was subjected to a practice called "the hot seat." It consisted of one student being chosen at random (or maybe it was alphabetically, i don't remember) to sit on a stool (the hot seat) at the front of the classroom, facing the chalkboard so as not to see the other students. Then the rest of the class would be allowed to voice any criticisms they had of that student while maintaining their anonymity. The rules were that the person sitting in the hot seat could not turn and look at the class, and that the students who were doing the criticizing were not allowed to use the words "never" or "always." The intended result of this practice was that the kid in the hot seat would end up being humbled and more self-aware without losing self-esteem.
I don't know how well it worked. There are more resilient kids and less resilient kids, kids who take that kind of criticism to heart and kids who can brush it off without a second thought. And i wonder: did anyone actually learn anything from this? And if they did learn anything, was it about themselves or others?
I've been thinking a lot about that bizarre experience for the last day or two. And it made me wonder--what is the Internet if not an informal hot seat in its own right, a free-for-all where people get to know one another on more or less anonymous terms, then pick one another apart for their quirks?
The one time i was on the hot seat, i managed to surprise the class by recognizing the voice of one of my criticizers and addressing that kid by name. The teachers and the students were all sort of stunned that i'd managed to figure out who was talking to me--this was supposed to be anonymous, after all. There was some consternation, and then the room fell silent. I don't think anyone wanted to play anymore. And i wonder who was more humbled by the end of that session: me or the kid i named.
I don't know whether there's a lesson in there somewhere. Maybe it's this: anonymity makes some people much braver than they would normally be. Or maybe it's this: anonymity doesn't make criticism any easier to take, though it does make it easier to dish out.
Or maybe it's this: you're never really anonymous.
posted by Circus at 12:41 PM
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