Last Thursday
Dr. Kristen Ohlenforst [i]presented
“Helping the Racing Child” at our first Parents’ Association speaker event for
the year. We asked Dr. Ohlenforst to come as a follow up to our screening last
spring of Race to Nowhere, an event she
facilitated. (You can read prior posts
on RtN: this
one, that
one, another
one.) She made a great number of wonderful points and gave sage advice with
concrete suggestions.
Immediately Dr.
Ohlenforst stressed an important reality—that no one is going to change the
complex socio-cultural system which has produced the issues captured in RtN. It comes down to family choices
based on values, beliefs, wishes, et cetera. Another key factor is how we talk
to our children about these issues. The questions we ask, the attention we heed
to certain particulars, the feelings we expose, the words we use—kids pick up
on these things immediately.
Similarly,
certain aspects of school are not going to change. There are going to be
assessments and homework; there are going to be areas in which students shine
and areas in which they struggle. As in anything else, for a young person to
progress and thrive, he or she is going to have to work hard. A student should
no be allowed to see that as optional. School is inherently going to bring with
it a certain degree of stress. That can be okay. As Dr. Ohlenforst pointed out,
the right level of stress actually serves as a motivator. The problems arise when
the stress grows too great, even if it’s just a bit too much over a long period
of time.
Since Dr.
Ohlenforst emphasized points about the language we use, I began thinking about
one of the most popular words used to describe curricula: rigorous. It’s hard to argue against rigor; certainly we want
students pushed and prodded. But let’s consider what that word really means: “rigidly
severe or harsh…severely exact or accurate.” When applied to weather or
climate, it means uncomfortably severe or harsh; extremely inclement.” The very Latin root of the word refers to “stiffness.”
Think rigor mortis. I’m reminded of
Dr. Ohlenforst telling us that too much stress beginning at a young age can
actually cause someone’s full brain growth to be smaller.
We need to change just
one letter for a better word to describe what we should want student experiences
to be.
Vigorous.
Think about the meanings
of vigorous: “full of or
characterized by vigor… strong; active; robust…energetic; forceful…powerful in
action or effect.” Vigorous plants and animals grow well. The root refers to
energy and and has ties to thrive. Other words that come to mind are vibrant, vivacious, and invigorate.
They all suggest life and joy. No undergrown brains there.[ii]
That little
single-letter change holds massive implications. After all, other than our
actions, language is our most powerful tool in educating our children. The
conversations we have with them are crucial. Yet they often can prove troublesome
in obvious and hidden ways. Richard
Weissbourd explores this idea in his wonderful book The
Parents We Mean to Be, and he provides many talking points and
strategies for conversations with children, teachers, coaches, and other
parents. I highly recommend it as a follow-up to Dr. Ohlenforst’s presentation.
To Dr. Weissbourd, all of this is a moral calling, one operating in “the
deepest forms of love” (Kindle edition, loc 3095). I find that truly invigorating.
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