Dr. Timony, Author at Welcome

Black. White. Alaska. Russia.

Black is not the opposite of white. Think about it. Think about how we learn things.Think about the developmental level you had attained when you first learned about the colors black and white.

You, like the rest of us, were told that they are opposites. When you moved into upper grades, you were given additional and more astute observations regarding black and white. One is a lack of color. One is all colors combined. That is what you were told. But you probably still saw them as opposites. Indulge me and list, mentally or otherwise, the traits of the color black and the color white. If you consider the two on the spectrum, you could probably name more about them that is the same than different. When you think about it, the opposite of both white and black is probably green.

Looking at a map in a book, a child may think that the farthest thing from Russia is Alaska. One is all the way to the left of the page and the other is all the way to the right. We know that they are practically neighbors, don’t we? Some of us, if we’ve never been on long flights might think that the fastest way to China from Philadelphia is to travel East. Until we book that flight and see that we have a stop in California.

Why do I mention these small, obvious, and arguably silly things? Because we need to change the way that we think. We need to listen to what people say and take it all in. Remember it. Stew on it. Ruminate. Chew. And then examine how much of what we heard was colored by the experience of the speaker and by our own experience. Did we agree? Why? Was it because the speaker connected to us and their pacing, verbiage, paralanguage, and/or accent resonated with something within us? We have to separate, in our minds, liking someone and agreeing with someone.

Speakers are compelling. That’s how they make their living. Journalists and authors earn their bones by connecting through the written word. As consumers of media, even when the media is a live discussion, we must be responsible. Even in our own classrooms, we have to be careful that we are responsible authorities and not lords of our domains: doling out information and judging resources unfairly.

We must also be mature. Why is a terrible question. It’s childish and uninformed. It’s loaded and judgmental. It’s a bratty query. You probably really want to know: May I…? Are we able to…? Have you considered…? Is there a reason…? What are some of the questions that we need to ask of our guides and our selves? Are they static questions that have become mantras? Are they dynamic? From where do they come? What are we missing?

Let’s all take some time to revisit the reasons that we do what we do. Reflect on the things that we hold dear, our personal myths and histories. Do these things serve as a foundation for our approaches or do the create blockades to our own development and the development of our students? What are our prejudices? How are they effecting us? Does the unchecked acceptance of a message place a glass ceiling on our own goals?

I look forward to your comments, criticisms, and confessions. Feel free to post anonymously. We need to purge, don’t we? I know I do.

Let’s challenge each other to change the way that we think.

Why define what does not exist?

Don’t get me started on dictionary definitions. They are the denotations of language but let us be serious. When is the last time any of us used a dictionary to gain meaning that we did not already understand? We use them to check spelling, to reinforce knowledge that we already possess, and to grease the gears of our minds working as we try to reword something for the benefit of ourselves and others. Why is it, then, that when there are disagreements some folks go to the dictionary for a definition? Makes no sense. Especially when we have retooled so much of the vernacular to where it is but a shadow of its original meaning.

When discussing constructs such as ‘talent,’ I understand that this is a term that provokes an emotional response. Sentimentality swells within. We think of our own experiences, the experiences of our children, the experiences of our neighbors and our friends. We like to label students as talented and we like to call people genuises–we like to have heroes. We like to perpetuate our personal myths. This is not an issue of semantics. It is an issue of honesty.

Who are these diviners? These mystics and magicians? Where is the man or woman who can read minds, see the future, and decide whether a student possesses talent? And when they make that decision, what do they do? They tell the student and the family of the student. Tell them they are special, that they have a gift? What effect does that experience have on that individual? And what are the eventual outcomes? To those who “know it when they see it,” how is your track record?

Something that I often say when addressing future educators is this: We do our students a tremendous disservice when we view them through the lens of our experience. Our past has been romanticized in our minds. We must come to terms with that. We tell our stories so many times that they have become myth and we perpetuate those myths and they become distant from the reality of the original context.

“Success is a peace of mind which is a direct result of self-satisfaction in knowing you did your best to become the best that you are capable of becoming.”-Coach John Wooden (1910-2010)

You have no talent: An introduction

I have no particular talent, I am merely inquisitive.

Albert Einstein

There are only a handful of words that genuinely set my feet to tapping and get me out of my chair for a veritable dustup. I hate to even say them. It’s painful to me. Here they are: talent, potential, drive, engagement, and absolutely…sure there are more and I will think of them later.

Talent does not exist. You don’t have it, you cannot possess it, and you cannot gain it. There, I’ve said it; it’s out in the open. This is not a post about semantics. I ask that you read with an open mind and that you stave off your response until you are sure you understand what I’m getting at. It may take several posts.

Social constructs are invented based on non-scientific, but usually observable sets of phenomena. Take something like midlife crisis. When someone refers to it, we have a series of behaviors that rush to our minds. The 50 year-old who goes out and buys a sports car or completely changes appearance. That individual might quit their job and do something that they have always wanted to do. Whatever that might be, but it’s usually something out of the ordinary. I had a professor in undergrad who bought a red convertible, quit his academic job, and went off to become a minister. Why? “Midlife crisis.” It was the catchall excuse for the things that he had wanted to do but had yet to do in his life. Is there any neurological, sociological, quantifiable evidence to suggest that this phenomenon exists? Nope. But we acknowledge it. Old wives tales. Personal myths.We keep them alive and give them energy; we perpetuate them even though they do not exist. They stick around because we agree that they exist. There are far more remarkable events in the life of an individual, but these are the ones that gain prominence and become positions of defense in conversation. We fail to acknowledge that some of these beliefs undermine our credibility.

Talent regularly becomes a hotbed of conversation and eventually argument. I am reminded of a quote from Frank McCourt’s musical The Irish…and How They Got That Way where a woman states, in regard to fairies, “I don’t believe in them…but they’re there.” Some of the most reasonable and scientific of individuals go soft and sentimental–usually because they are thinking of a child with fondness–and start talking about the natural, God-given, inborn, or gift of talent that a person may possess. People use the term talent even though it is in opposition to other, strongly held, educational beliefs. The term mystifies something that should be very transparent and accessible–the development of competence through education, mentoring, and deliberate practice.

Talent is a label given by people who do not know the amount of practice that has been performed in order to develop observed skills. It is a microinequity. It is an insult. It says, “You have skills that in my judgment, you did not earn.” Isn’t it a much greater ‘gift’ to have worked hard at developing a demonstrable skill? The owners of these skills are, as are most, unreliable in reporting their own levels of interest and effort. When asked if they practice, they under-report. When inquired about their interest, they are blasé. Isaac Stern, when interviewed by Ellen Langer about his practice habits says that he practices sometimes while ‘watching television programs’ and laughs. Musicians are notorious for under- and over-reporting their practice (depending on who they are trying to impress).

Stay tuned for Pt. 1 and please post comments/questions for inclusions in coming posts!

Brush your feet, shake your hands

In my earliest days as an educator, there were few full time jobs to be had and I chose to work in a situation of steady influence rather than hopping about as a substitute teacher from place to place and probably outside my content area. I was in between my fourth and fifth years of college and needed a break from academics and also needed to make a few dollars to pay the bills.

I found myself in South Philadelphia working as an assistant teacher in an early intervention classroom and it was there where I learned many of the ‘tricks’ that I still utilize in my classes today. Whether it was from my students, my lead teacher, or the several therapists who were working in the room, the novelty and variety of practices were never ending. I stole them all. I remember being told, upon hire, I was that the salary was low and the turnover was high–they did, however, get the benefit of fresh faces such as mine who were right out of college.

Being regularly surrounded by students of multiple involvements was a challenge of its own. Many had their own language and vocabulary with an expected repertoire of responses, some were quite distant while some were lucid and possessed more latent delays, and there were a few who were given to violent tantrums. If this were a seminar or in-real-life (IRL) discussion I would probably make some allusion to ‘multitasking’ and we would all smile a cautious smile. These were students who deserved more of us than we could give.

The first lesson that I taught is that the body must be ready to learn before the mind is ready to learn. Every student had a routine upon arrival–this is nothing new to us, is it? Keep in mind that these students had very different routines and, I came to discover, these routines were good for everyone. Routine one: brush your veggies and your feet.

By brushing the feet, lower legs, hands, and lower arms we created static input that acted to organize the nervous system. The students liked it. The brushes tickle and massage, they provided types of input that the students need. We need it too. When our minds or bodies seem out of sorts, we can use these techniques. The brushes that we used looked like this:

Veggie brushes — Brushes come in varied harnesses

and could be found at a variety of ‘frou-frou’ gourmet stores. There is far more to it than just brushing but you get the gist.

The morning was a blur of focused activities categorized by the types of input provided. For those students who needed vestibular input, there was a platform swing which was aluminum and strong enough to hold an instructor and a student. There were weighted vests which, as explained to me, provided downward pressure to help students feel ‘more grounded.’There were all sorts of massaging devices–large, two-handed, AC powered massaging devices that provided sensory input to large muscle groups as well as fingers and toes; and small, hand held devices that the students could manipulate on their own–many of them liked the sensation along with vocalized sound. Along with clapping activities and stomping activities, the room was abuzz with the exact kind of racket that should come from a well-planned course of classroom activity. This was only the first 15 minutes.

Watch for Part 2: Nobody moves, nobody gets taught