Nadezhda S. (2) (ILE) about teaching and explaining

I love to explain things in detail. I can go on and on. If I see that a person really needs it and is genuinely engaged, I can overwhelm them. And some people get stuck—they zone out. But some don’t zone out, and I can see that the person enjoys what I’m explaining. Then I explain even more, offer several alternatives, explain in different ways to make sure they really get it.

If someone doesn’t understand at all, I can explain it very thoroughly, even in a very simple way so that any first-grader could understand. I’ll explain in all sorts of ways: using little drawings, sheets of paper—anything. I get really fired up; I want to make it as clear as possible for them… I’ll explain, explain, explain, explain, explain—there’s no way someone won’t understand from my explanation. I can even come back the next day if additional information is needed. After all, I don’t know exactly what they need.

I’ve trained myself to see whether someone zones out (gets into a trance) from my explanations or not. If I notice they’re already zoned out, I’ll say, “Alright, let’s go over this tomorrow; you can rest now.” And if they’re still somewhat coherent, if they can still take something in, I can write them notes about what to focus on in this matter, if they want to figure it out themselves. But I’ll tell them: “Come back, and I’ll explain in even more detail so you understand.” Well, they’re just exhausted now.

The reason I explain is that sometimes a person doesn’t feel like searching for some information themselves, and I know it. Even if they’re a “slowpoke,” if they need it, it’s necessary to explain, to help them figure it out. And when I feel that their brain has already stopped working, I say, “Take a rest, go for a walk—we’ll work it out later if you feel like coming to me.”

Keeping quiet, not giving anyone information—it’s hard. It’s hard when no one asks anything for a long time. In such cases, I start asking the person about something myself to start a conversation.

It’s important to distinguish between explanations and lectures. I don’t like being lectured, especially if someone is trying to assert themselves that way—I get angry. I usually get angry inwardly, with indignation, “boiling inside.”

I also don’t like it when they explain a lot of theory, especially with formulas and unfamiliar scientific terms—I zone out, feeling the inevitability of what’s happening, and I want to run away. It’s hard for me to handle attention being drawn to incompetence in something I’m supposed to know. It’s better if they just explain plainly.

By the way, I perceive explanations very positively. It really boosts my self-esteem when someone starts explaining something willingly in response to my question or request. Especially if it’s visual, unhurried, checking whether I understand, and answering follow-up questions as they come. I like it when they show how to do something by example. I really dislike it when someone responds to a question or request for explanation with a one-word answer, or mumbles something unclear just to be left alone. I feel dissatisfied: they answered, but it’s still unclear, and it feels embarrassing to ask again.

<…> At work, I enjoy explaining things, especially if the topic is interesting.