Part 5: Expert Children
I have yet to encounter a child in a support class who is not absolutely expert - for their age - at something. Sometimes they are expert at some academic subject. More often though they are expert at the things of great interest to them: some popular music style, a computer game genre, some series of books or a particular author. I remember a boy who was in the support class for english and mathematics and science. He was universally regarded as in need of extra special help - his literacy was poor. His numeracy was worse. He didn’t particularly seem to care about any of this mind you - it was obvious he didn’t want to be at school. And yet - speak to him for a moment and you realized his mind was as sharp, quick and expert as anyone else’s. He just wasn’t interested in what most people were interested in.
Let’s call him John. John would probably get stigmatized with a label in any school. Educators would say he is on a spectrum somewhere (Autism, most likely). But in truth, John was just a person who had the strength not to bend to the wills of the adults and others around him who wanted him to learn this or that. He didn’t want to. What he wanted? To be involved in Rugby League Football. Not necessarily as a player: but something. And he knew just about everything. John knew the players - their names and match statistics. He had theories on who should be in or out of this or that team (of course, the lesson I wanted to give him was that he should broaden his sources beyond just the News Limited Press, but that’s another story). The point is: he had expertise. He had interests. He could read adequately. He read the sports pages well enough and he seemed to know that getting better at reading would help him learn more about footy, faster and perhaps help him get a job around his favorite sport. He also seemed to understand that all those numbers like: average number of penalties and tries and goals - a broader appreciation of some basic maths would deepen his knowledge of all that. He understood. He was working on it.
But school got in the way of his learning. Instead of allowing him to study rugby league and all the associated knowledge he needed to become an even better expert in that subject they stopped him from learning. And forced him to attend lessons.
“I have never let my schooling interfere with my education” - Mark Twain.
So here was the school - like any school - “doing their best for him” by forcing him to attend lessons on the chemistry of water, the physics of electricity, the mathematics of algebra, the English of Some-Book-He-Hated-Reading. All completely useless stuff to him. Trying to indoctrinate him with what his betters deemed important for him to know. But they didn’t know. They weren’t better. He knew. He knew what he needed to learn to do what he wanted.
Only during his holidays and once he finally left school for good - did John have the time to really devote to properly learning rather than attempts at being educated. He could then pursue a career in the field he was passionate about.
If only he was allowed to do that full time from the moment he realised what he wanted to do. Instead his development was stunted and frustrated by all the adults in his life, enacting cultural memes they never critically analysed.
The student of my story could not be prevented from learning all there was to know about Rugby League. Nor could he be forced to learn lessons he did not want to. He graduated from school never learning much at all about electricity and algebra and who cares? Why should he? Why should we? Let’s admit it: for most people, most of the time - those things do not matter. They can fully participate in the political process, in decision making - in society without knowing those things just as I can without knowing details about how Picasso chose lighting and colour for his Rose Period. And when knowledge of those things become important we can enlist the help of experts. The electrician. The mathematician.
But don't we need an informed electorate? Don't we need scientific literacy? Part 6
I have yet to encounter a child in a support class who is not absolutely expert - for their age - at something. Sometimes they are expert at some academic subject. More often though they are expert at the things of great interest to them: some popular music style, a computer game genre, some series of books or a particular author. I remember a boy who was in the support class for english and mathematics and science. He was universally regarded as in need of extra special help - his literacy was poor. His numeracy was worse. He didn’t particularly seem to care about any of this mind you - it was obvious he didn’t want to be at school. And yet - speak to him for a moment and you realized his mind was as sharp, quick and expert as anyone else’s. He just wasn’t interested in what most people were interested in.
Let’s call him John. John would probably get stigmatized with a label in any school. Educators would say he is on a spectrum somewhere (Autism, most likely). But in truth, John was just a person who had the strength not to bend to the wills of the adults and others around him who wanted him to learn this or that. He didn’t want to. What he wanted? To be involved in Rugby League Football. Not necessarily as a player: but something. And he knew just about everything. John knew the players - their names and match statistics. He had theories on who should be in or out of this or that team (of course, the lesson I wanted to give him was that he should broaden his sources beyond just the News Limited Press, but that’s another story). The point is: he had expertise. He had interests. He could read adequately. He read the sports pages well enough and he seemed to know that getting better at reading would help him learn more about footy, faster and perhaps help him get a job around his favorite sport. He also seemed to understand that all those numbers like: average number of penalties and tries and goals - a broader appreciation of some basic maths would deepen his knowledge of all that. He understood. He was working on it.
But school got in the way of his learning. Instead of allowing him to study rugby league and all the associated knowledge he needed to become an even better expert in that subject they stopped him from learning. And forced him to attend lessons.
“I have never let my schooling interfere with my education” - Mark Twain.
So here was the school - like any school - “doing their best for him” by forcing him to attend lessons on the chemistry of water, the physics of electricity, the mathematics of algebra, the English of Some-Book-He-Hated-Reading. All completely useless stuff to him. Trying to indoctrinate him with what his betters deemed important for him to know. But they didn’t know. They weren’t better. He knew. He knew what he needed to learn to do what he wanted.
Only during his holidays and once he finally left school for good - did John have the time to really devote to properly learning rather than attempts at being educated. He could then pursue a career in the field he was passionate about.
If only he was allowed to do that full time from the moment he realised what he wanted to do. Instead his development was stunted and frustrated by all the adults in his life, enacting cultural memes they never critically analysed.
The student of my story could not be prevented from learning all there was to know about Rugby League. Nor could he be forced to learn lessons he did not want to. He graduated from school never learning much at all about electricity and algebra and who cares? Why should he? Why should we? Let’s admit it: for most people, most of the time - those things do not matter. They can fully participate in the political process, in decision making - in society without knowing those things just as I can without knowing details about how Picasso chose lighting and colour for his Rose Period. And when knowledge of those things become important we can enlist the help of experts. The electrician. The mathematician.
But don't we need an informed electorate? Don't we need scientific literacy? Part 6