I heard you speak this week. You were funny, and gripping, and you spoke truth.
You had me nodding when you talked about fairness: "Every child gets what he needs to succeed."
When you talked about privacy: "I will talk to you about your child. And only your child."
When you railed against the "everybody doing it the same way" mentality, when you ranted about behavior charts and behaviors that set kids up for failure, I nodded along. I teared up when you spoke about your fourth-grade teacher -- no kid deserves that experience, and far too many have it.
For almost five hours straight, I listened intently. And believe me, that is not something I do very easily.
You had me laughing, and in tears. But in the last 10 minutes of your presentation, you lost me. Not just gone, but completely furious.
Here's why.
You were in the middle of a riff on things you hated in schools. Teacher of the Month. Student of the Month. Things that inherently set staff and students against one another, instead of bringing them together. Ok, I get that.
"But what I really hate," you said. "What I really hate in school, are the words gifted and talented."
Every child has gifts, you said. Every child has talents. You invited the crowd to cheer and hoot and whistle.
I was dumbfounded.
How could you? How could you? A man who just spent five hours preaching "fairness" and "doing what's right for kids" and "giving kids what they need to succeed" -- how could you turn that exact same thing into a laugh line? And worse yet, for an audience of people who -- let's face it -- probably have some issues doing the fair thing in their classrooms. Why else would we be here?
I get it -- you're probably talking about the label. Gifted and talented. And believe me -- I hate that label, too. I hate it for what it implies about kids who aren't "GT." And I hate it for what it does to my students who are. Gifted and talented? What does that mean? What more do these people want from me?
I, like you, believe that every child has gifts, or talents -- something they are amazing at, or passionate about, or very special about just them. Sometimes those gifts are things schools traditionally value, and sometimes -- like your humor and public speaking -- not so much.
So, what's with my objection? Because you didn't clarify, Brian. You didn't say you hated the label, but understand the program. You didn't say that it was something created to help kids get what they need to succeed. Not all kids are created equally, Brian -- didn't you teach me that? And some are created with gifts and talents so advanced for their age that a regular classroom teacher needs help in meeting their needs.
And, unfortunately -- you know that word, the one that means "I hate that this bad thing is going to happen but I know that sometimes it will" -- unfortunately, there are some teachers who, unless that label is in place, will do nothing extra for that child.
Gifted and Talented is not a pedestal -- it's a protection. I don't like the words either, but they're the ones we are stuck with, because they are the ones protected by law. The law in most states says if a child is identified as gifted and talented, they deserve some sort of special education to meet their needs. They deserve teachers to differentiate, to do what is necessary to help them succeed in school -- and not be bored to tears by content and material they've had under control since the first grade.
You know, to be fair.
No comments:
Post a Comment