After reading Darcy's comment regarding that "...each person's greatest room for growth is in the areas of his or her greatest strength" in her article reflection--it reminded me of this fable told by Leo Buscaglia in the 1970s.
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YOU MEAN A RABBIT CAN BE TAUGHT TO FLY?
As an individual you must not be satisfied with just becoming like everybody else.
By Leo Buscaglia, Ph.D.
Busscaglia: "I teach seminars in graduate school. It's amazing how people have learned to parrot by then."
A rabbit, bird, fish, squirrel, duck and so on, all decided to start a school. The rabbit insisted that running had to be in the curriculum. The bird insisted that flying be in the curriculum. The fish insisted that swimming be in the curriculum. The squirrel insisted that perpendicular trees climbing be in the curriculum.
All the other animals wanted their specialty to be in the curriculum, too, so they put everything in and then made the glorious mistake of insisting that all the animals take all of the courses. The rabbit was magnificent in running; nobody could run like the rabbit. But they insisted that it was good intellectual and emotional discipline to teach the rabbit flying. So they insisted that the rabbit learned to fly and they put her on this branch and said, "Fly, rabbit!" And the poor old thing jumped off, broke her leg and fractured her skull. She became brain-damaged and then she couldn't run very well, either.
The same way with the bird -- she could fly like a freak all over the place, do loops and loops, and she was making an A. But they insisted that this bird burrow holes in the ground like a gopher. Of course she broke her wings and everything else, and then she couldn't fly.
We know this is wrong, yet nobody does anything about it. You may be a genius. You may be one of the greatest writers in the world, but you can't get into a university unless you can pass trigonometry. For what? Look at the list of drop outs: William Faulkner, John F. Kennedy, Thomas Edison. They couldn't face school. "I don't want to learn perpendicular tree climbing. I'm never going to climb perpendicularly. I'm a bird. I can fly to the top of the tree without having to do that."
"Never mind, it's good discipline."
As an individual, you must not be satisfied with just becoming like everybody else. You must think for yourself. For example, art supervisors. I can remember when they used to come to my classroom in elementary school, and I'm sure you can remember it, too. You were given a paper, and the teacher would put up the drawing in front of you and you were really excited. It was going to be art time. You had all the crayolas in front of you, and you folded your hands and you waited. And soon the art teacher would come running in, because she had been to fourteen other classrooms that day teaching art. She ran in, and she'd huff and puff and she'd say, "Good morning girls and boys. Today we are going to draw a tree." And all the kids would say, "Goody, we're going to draw a tree!" And then she'd get up there with a green crayola and she'd draw this great big green thing. And then she put a brown base on it and a few blades of grass. And she'd say, "There is a tree." And all the kids would look at it and they'd say, "That isn't a tree. That's a lollipop." But she said that was a tree, and then she's pass out these papers and say, "Now, draw a tree." She didn't really say, "Draw a tree" -- she said, "Draw my tree." And the sooner you found out that's what she meant and could reproduce this lollipop and hand it to her, the sooner you would get an A.
But here was little Janie who knew that wasn't a tree, because she'd seen a tree such as this art teacher had never experienced! So she got magenta, and orange, and blue, and purple, and green, and she scribbled all over her page and happily brought it up and gave it to the teacher. She looked at it and said, "Oh my God...."
How long does it take somebody to realize that what they're really saying is, "To pass, I want you to reproduce my tree." And so it goes through the first grade, second, third and right on into seminars in graduate school. I teach seminars in graduate school. It's amazing how people have learned to parrot by then. Think? Don't be ridiculous. They can give you the facts, verbatim, just as you've given it to them. And you can't blame those students, because that's what they've been taught. You say to them, "Be creative," and they're fearful. And so what happens to our uniqueness; what happens to our tree? All this beautiful uniqueness has gone right down the drain. Everybody is like everybody else, and everybody is happy. R.D. Laing says, "we are satisfied when we've made people like ourselves out of our children.
Excerpted from the book, LIVING, LOVING & LEARNING by Leo Buscaglia
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14 comments:
I have read this before... It makes me sad every time I read it because it makes me think of school when I was younger. Especially the art teacher... I was such a nervous student.
Such a large part of teaching primary is drawing, creating, coming up with and owning their pieces of writing- drawing- whatever... I am always reminding the kids to do their best and that is what I care about most. When they share their work at circle time, eveyone's masterpieces are SO DIFFERENT than their classmates. Their interpretations of things come out- especially in their writing and drawings. I also share my writings, drawings and interpretations at circle time- not before. They are creating based on their vision, not mine.
Leo Buscaglia’s story about the uniqueness of learning is so true. The school I teach at is a Reading First School. That means we have been given a large grant to improve reading test performance. This is making the uninformed assumption that all children will read at the same level at the end of each grade level. It is very hard to work under all the guidelines that this grant requires. It is another attempt by the government to make cookie cutter children. The beautiful uniqueness of learning to read is gone.
I too have read this before and it also breaks my heart when reading it. It reminds me how strong the basic human need to belong is, so much to the point where we will strive to fit the mold, to excel, to live up to others standards, to live up to our OWN standards, etc.
In the end, we just hurt ourselves (get stressed out, get sick mentally/physically/emotionally) and never fully realize how we were good enough all along. I see a lot of this when dealing with my older students in that they are striving to succeed so much so that they lose sight of what the purpose of learning is really about (MORE than getting an A) and how there is more to life than a grade.
Having started my teaching career in the late '60s in 3rd grade and having had to teach my own art and PE, this article doesn't exactly jive with what I experienced. (Nope, I wasn't in the deep south...I taught in an affluent suburb of Chicago!)
In addition, I've been an advocate of learning what you may not be good at IS "good discipline." We discuss (a 2-way conversation) in my classes about if what they really like to do right now will even be a job in 4-8 years; or do they have to broaden their interests by learning additional things to what they already like to do? I truly believe it will help them think and not parrot. Yup, wasn't in grad school in the '70s though, so Buscaglia's story, I imagine was real then.
When I read this I just thought of all the current trends in my school district and education. There is a movement that everybody will be the same. They will write the same, know the same things, and perform the same. This goes along with the testing we do. Everybody will be proficient they say, but that is not really reflective of society. We all have strengths and weaknesses. Nobody is proficient in everything.
I love Leo Buscaglia and this story is a favorite reminder of our purpose as educators. I believe it is extremely important to help kids find and develop their own talents. I also believe, however, that it is OK for kids to struggle now and then. This is how kids learn the importance of persevering and hard work. As the story goes, we are not all born with the same talents. This is equally important to recognize, accept, and even celebrate. Nevertheless, and unlike the animals, we can sometimes (not always) learn some of these more challenging skills . . with time, patience, hard work. . . and a "positive attitude"
Very interesting feedback everybody gives in regards to this passage. Sounds like we've all had some kind of reflection in regards to how our education system reflects this. Sam, I agree, this is exactly at what NCLB is all about. ALL students will be at the same levels... It reminds me, too, of the grapes story (in short): in the business world, each business gets to pick its' work force from the elite, while in education, we get what is handed to us. The grape analogy is that we, in education, get all the grapes, the good ones, sour, rotten, too firm, too soft, seedless, seeded, etc... While, in the business world, they get to pick nothing but the best grapes out there. Yet, so many advocates say schools should be run more like businesses... How can this equate? I like what Leo Buscaglia states!
Like Sam, this story reminded me not only of standardized tests, but also all of our NUMEROUS district assessments. Assessment scores are what they are, and can show where, for example, our math program is lacking. Sometimes our teachers will even receive their summary sheet back with a note to re-teach and re-test, I suppose so the scores look better on file to that somebody somewhere that might look at them someday?!?
The story also made me think about four-year (more like five or six-year) colleges and their basic studies courses. I really struggled my first two years to even have a grade point high enough to be considered for the College of Education. Once I started in education courses, they seemed so much easier just because I was finally studying what I was interested in. My minor was Early Childhood Education, and I even had a 4.0 in those classes because that’s where my heart was.
In a related story, my “little” brother was fascinated by C.S.I. (Crime Scene Investigation) type TV shows, and he wanted to attend a two-year police school for C.S.I. training. But since my parents were paying for his schooling, they insisted he attend a four-year college first. So he went to UW-Oshkosh and dropped out before the end of his first year. Since then, he’s been enrolled in many different colleges/programs (some even two-year technical schools), but, even though “he’s come really close a couple times,” he still hasn’t graduated from one. Now he’s 32 and my mom says “he’s really close again.” We’ll see… She also says she wishes she’d just let him attend police school when he wanted to! And I’ve learned to support my own kids’ college choices, whatever they may be…
So many students are being formed into a perfect cookie by the cookie cutter. If one doesn’t turn out that way we want, we throw it away. We spend so much time on meeting the standards by a certain grade level, by making sure no student is left behind, by keeping everyone safe, etc., that we lose sight of the fact that students are individuals and need to be treated as such. All students should succeed, but each one may be at a different step in their success. Some will go on to be geniuses, others will be very successful as the hamburger flipper. Students, and parents, get so wrapped up in the grade that they forget to have fun. To learn something for the fun of it. To use the talents they enjoy. This isn’t to say students shouldn’t be challenged. If they are never challenged, they will never know what else they can do.
I enjoyed the story by Leo. I remember saying in High school, “Why do I have to go through 4 years of math to go to college for ART? I struggled through the classes, with my math teacher as my personal tutor, and got A’s, but I broke a couple of wings throughout the journey. I feel like the educational system …all along the way…has us jumping through hoops.
I did not like the generalized example Leo gave of the art teacher. I believe his description of the teacher running into the classroom out of breath, is often correct. I am an art teacher, and I seldom sit down. To get things done, I have to constantly go. It is much better than it was when I started 23 years ago, but it is very active teaching.
I however, do not want the kids to copy what I draw…as the example he gave. I am often telling the kids during art history lessons, that most artists became famous, because they dared to be different!
As I read this, I too, thought about what Sam and Deb mentioned. We have so many state and DISTRICT assessments that our students are to be proficient in. It's ridiculous. Sam is right. No one is proficient at everything. Our little birds are going to have all of their wings broken before it is even time for them to try to fly on their own. Then what are they going to do???
I’ve recently been thinking that one of the major difficulties facing society is the human tendency to assume. We all assume we know what is going on with others because we see it in our own mind’s framework. I think of how many times I have misinterpreted someone’s actions or words because I tried to make sense of them as they related to me personally. But, really, the only person I can know is me, (and, even that I’m not always so sure of!) Often, my misinterpretation leads to misunderstanding. If I do discover where the other person is “coming from”, I usually find out that I completely misjudged the situation or, worse, the person.
I am finding that happens with my students, as well. As a classroom teacher, there is a lot of pressure to fit everything into a too-small time frame of an already too-busy day. When students deviate from my carefully constructed schedule, my first reaction is usually to try to reel them back in to my way of thinking. Thank goodness for those moments when a child will bring me back to his or her reality. Having to think like a third grader is one of the healthiest things I do. When a student draws a tree with magenta, it is usually because he or she has seen magenta in a tree – or, at least thinks there should have been magenta. And, who am I to assume otherwise?
After reading this story and then reading everyone's comments, I would agree that the story parallels our educational system today (and in the past). However, seeing as that is most likely not going to change, I would like to think that there are things you can do in your classroom to make a little bit of a difference. Yes, we are all required to teach certain things, assess the same items, give the state assessments and so forth, however, finding ways to bring out each student's unique quality and help them grow upon that is part of my responsibility as a teacher. And I hope I can continue to do this each year that I am able to teach and touch student's lives.
While this seems like a pretty extreme analogy, I certainly do get the point it is making. I guess I was lucky enough to have a few teachers who encouraged me to draw pink trees with orange grass and a green sunshine, which went over quite well because I’m generally not a color-in-between-the-lines kind of gal. As a matter of fact, while struggling with fast drying acrylic paint in a high school art class, my teacher convinced me to change the style of my landscape from realism to abstract. The painting I tussled with still hangs in my mother’s living room today, and is her very favorite piece of artwork from me.
Now as a teacher, I look for ways to incorporate cooperative teaming and Gardner’s Multiple Intelligences whenever I can so that the “Rabbit” can at least experience flight, and the “Bird” can have tools to dig a hole. We all possess at least 8 unique intelligences (in differing amounts) through which we are able to learn and teach new information.
What Mary Johnson wrote in her blog also rings true to me. Broadening horizons is a good thing, and sometimes the deepest lessons you learn can come through trying new things and persisting beyond struggle. Exposure and practice in school or in life are rarely a complete waste.
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