We All Love To Feel Smart

Each year, in the weeks before Thanksgiving, I like to share a wonderful picture book called “Thanks For Thanksgiving,” (written by Julie Markes and illustrated by Doris Barette,) with my music classes. I created a gentle melody to accompany its lovely simple rhymes.

This year, one rhyme really stood out to me: along with numerous thanks for everyday things, on one page it says “Thank you for school, I love to feel smart; thank you for music and dancing and art.” As a musician and music and movement teacher, I always smiled when I sang those lines, and loved that the arts were highlighted in the book in this way. But this year I suddenly read this part in a different way: it suddenly hit me as the parent of someone with learning challenges.

I still remember my son’s excitement and enthusiasm about starting kindergarten. His big sister was already in school, and while he had gone to preschool, he was beyond thrilled to be embarking on this new adventure. We read lots and lots of picture books about what kinds of experiences he could expect as the normal fare of school life.

It didn’t take long for that excitement to fade. School wasn’t fun. He had a hard time following the teachers’ instructions. He had a hard time understanding what was expected of him. He had a hard time getting along with some of the other kids. He was laughed at and teased by other children. He got confused by all of the action. He got overwhelmed and didn’t know what to do with the adrenalin that was filling his body as a result of the anxiety he was feeling. And to my dismay, he very quickly concluded that he wasn’t smart. My heart broke for him. Within the space of a few months, he already knew that he wasn’t making the grade. His school years continued to be one long struggle, and unfortunately he walked around feeling unsuccessful. He had expected to love school, and he knew he was smart, until he went to school.

In my first few years as an educator, I had been lucky to stumble on a book called, “In Their Own Way,” by Dr. Thomas Armstrong, (http://www.institute4learning.com/bio.php/). It was the first of many books that I read that referenced Dr. Howard Gardner’s theory of multiple intelligences (https://howardgardner.com/). As a music teacher, I had already seen that each of my students excelled at something different, and each one struggled with something different. Everyone had their strengths along with the areas where they needed more help. Everyone was smart at some things and had to work harder at other things. So the theory of multiple intelligences was not a theory at all to me, it was the reality of being a teacher. But here was my own child not feeling smart L

As I sang this book to my music classes this year, each time I got to those pages I felt a jolt, remembering my son’s experiences throughout school. Every child wants to feel smart, every child wants to feel successful.  I felt like I was receiving a loud reminder of how sensitive children are to teachers’ tone of voice and facial expressions. How, as a teacher, I can literally make someone feel smart or dumb with the bat of an eyelash.

But any educator knows that there are so many different ways to be smart!* We know that most disruptive behavior is a result of the pain that comes from a student not feeling smart. It took me years to understand that whenever my son was angry it was because he was feeling unsuccessful, not smart.

This little Thanksgiving book gave me a new reminder this year, that it’s not actually enough to know the fact of multiple intelligences: I have to actively show my students that I honor their intelligence, regardless of how it expresses itself. I have to let them know that there are different ways to feel smart. I have to tell them this over and over. I have to make sure that they know it as much as I do.

My song “Everyone’s Good At Something” is based on a story that George H. Reavis, Assist. Superintendent of Schools in Cincinnati, Ohio, wrote in the early 1940s. It is a story that is regularly used to motivate teachers to recognize the different ways that children can reveal their talents. It is also a reminder to teachers that when they don’t recognize a student’s talents they can do great harm to the person’s self-esteem.

My son struggled through his 14 years of school. He continues to struggle now in art school. But he gets up every morning and dives back into the fray. I am in awe of his spirit, that he gets up and keeps on pushing, no matter how hard it was the day before. And, most importantly, he is slowly starting to rediscover that he is, indeed, smart. Because everyone is good at something, and we don’t all have to be good at the same things. When we as parents and teachers realize this, we will be far more creative in nurturing each child’s natural smarts.

*It is impossible for me to write about this topic without mentioning a brilliant song written by Stuart Stotts, called, “So Many Ways To Be Smart.” This song is perfect for both students and teachers, and manages to share this very important topic with humor and simplicity.  You can hear Stuart’s song on YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KX9rxoTI8ZI.

 

Tagged , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

2 Responses to We All Love To Feel Smart

  1. Oh, Joanie, this topic is near and dear to my heart. Both as an early childhood teacher for over 3 decades, and as a human being for over 6 decades, it is clearer than clear that everyone is good at something and that we all need to feel smart. My heart is completely with the children who have the hardest time fitting into today’s systems that have narrowed the view of our children. Thank you for widening it again. I am thrilled that your son is re-discovering that he is smart, and I am deeply sad that this confidence was taken away in the school experience. I pray that we can all re-evaluate what we communicate to the kids—as you said, with the blink of an eyelash. May we shine the light on them and say, “wow, look at you! You are really smart!” And KNOW that we are speaking the truth.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

40 − = 37