“I can’t do that.”
I hear this less often than you might think. Our students are more likely to avoid saying it outright. They might ask if they can do something easier, or choose something completely different to draw.
When that happens, I don’t expect them to work it out on their own. I offer to help. We might work on the whiteboard and draw it together, or break the picture down into shapes and start looking for those shapes. Once they can see where to start, the task often doesn’t seem quite so impossible.
And in fact, a little praise can go a long way. When they have a go, I make sure they know they’ve done well, even if their drawing isn’t exactly what they were hoping for. The important thing is that they had a go, worked through it and discovered that perhaps they could do more than they thought they could.
There is an idea from psychologist Carol Dweck’s research that I particularly like: the difference between thinking “I can’t do this” and “I can’t do this yet”.
That little word can make a difference because it leaves the door open. “I can’t” can sound like a final decision. “I can’t yet” suggests that this is where I am right now, not necessarily where I will always be.
I use the word myself all the time, particularly when I’m experimenting with something new. If something isn’t working, I might think, “I haven’t perfected it yet. I need more practice.” That doesn’t mean I’ll automatically get it right. It means I haven’t finished learning how to do it.
And that is where I think we need to be careful with the idea of “not yet”. Simply changing the words doesn’t magically make us better. “I can’t do it yet” can become a comfortable excuse if we never actually do anything differently.
The useful part comes next. What can I try? Can I break it down into smaller steps? Do I need someone to show me? Do I need more practice? Do I need some feedback? Is there another way of approaching it?
That’s what I see happen in art classes all the time. A student doesn’t suddenly become able to draw something because someone tells them to believe in themselves. They start to see the shapes. They have a go. They get some help. They make mistakes. They try again. Gradually, something that once seemed impossible becomes something they can do.
So perhaps “not yet” isn’t about convincing ourselves that we can do everything. It’s about being honest about where we are now, while leaving ourselves room to improve.
I can’t do it yet.
Now, what do I need to do next? Just push the door open a little more.