She forgot her coat, momentarily, on her chair.
We were all having lunch in the lobby outside the lecture hall. She sometimes comes and works at our book table when I do lectures here in Southern Ontario. I don't know her well but I enjoy her company. She doesn't let her intellectual disability intrude on her personality, she knows that she's funny, and she knows that she's skilled. Awesome.
Me, though, I have to constantly fight the early training I had. The training that taught me to fix their errors, never let them think for themselves, tidy up after them. It's old school, it's inappropriate, it restricts growth and teaches dependance. I know all that. I do. Even so ... my oh my how the urge is present.
So, when she forgot her coat, momentarily, on her chair. I almost called out after her. Almost made a bit of a deal about it. Now the three of us were still sitting there. Joe and Nikki from Diverse City Press - the coat wasn't going anywhere, it wasn't in danger of being stolen, it was just simply left behind. If Nikki had left her coat, I wouldn't call after her. I'd take it to her if she didn't come back for it. I may not even notice it was left there because I'd assume it was supposed to be where she left it, that she didn't want it right now, that she'd come and get it when it when she wanted it.
Instead of saying, 'You left you coat,' I did something else.
I said NOTHING.
I let it go.
A few minutes later she came back, looked at us and said, 'I forgot my coat.' She laughed at herself and went on her way. There is a huge difference between correcting yourself and being corrected.
Whew, got that one right, but gosh it's hard to simply 'shut up'.