Author: ahbtest

Parent: I followed your “join him in his world” advice with my son.

Dr. B: Oh good. How did it go?

Parent: Not so good.

Dr. B: Well.

Parent: Well, what?

Dr. B: What part didn’t work?

Parent: He liked the idea of making up stories about stuff he was interested in.

Dr. B: Good.

Parent: And we both liked your idea of me writing down those stories as he dictated them.

Dr. B: Good.

Parent: And he liked the idea of doing art work to go with the stories.

Dr. B: Good.

Parent: But …

Dr. B: But what? Sounds like it went well

Parent: No. Not so good. When it came time to read his book, he really struggled.

Dr. B: Even though he was reading his own story?

Parent: Yep. It’s like, he couldn’t read some of the bigger words.

Dr. B: Hmmm.

Parent: When he got stuck, he started telling the story from memory, instead of reading the actual words.

Dr. B: Did you point to individual words and ask him to read them?

Parent: Yeah, but then he got frustrated and didn’t want anything to do with the book.

Dr. B: Do a little experiment with him. Next time, ask him to sound out the word he is struggling with.

Parent: I already did that.

Dr. B: And?

Parent: He couldn’t do it. He could sound out some of the letters for simple words, but he couldn’t even do the word House.

Dr. B: Hmmm.

Parent: Yeah. Hmmm. You know what was really interesting? He read the word Earthmover in his book, but …

Dr. B: But couldn’t read it when he saw it somewhere else.

Parent: How did you guess?

Dr. B: Well, given what you’ve told me, the word Earthmover was probably on every page of his book and he probably had plenty of pictures of earthmovers, right?

Parent: Yep.

Dr. B: I’ll bet he remembered the word, just like he remembered the story and the pictures on the page, but he wasn’t really reading the word, in the sound-it-out-sense.

Parent: What does that mean?

Dr. B: Well, you might ask his teacher if he has been taught phonics.

Parent: Why ask that?

Dr. B: Phonics is the part of learning to read that is sometimes skipped. It’s teaching kids the sounds that go with letters or combinations of letters.

Parent: So they can sound out new words.

Dr. B: Exactly.

Parent: I don’t remember any of my kids learning phonics. I certainly didn’t.

Dr. B: Did you have trouble learning to read?

Parent: I was just like my son. I hated reading as a kid.

Dr. B: We all learn to talk naturally. But putting words we know into written form is like putting it in a code.

Parent: So, phonics is teaching kids how to break the code.

Dr. B: Exactly.

Parent: How come my other kids are such good readers? Without phonics?

Dr. B: Some kids just seem to break the code on their own.

Parent: Probably because they had so much story time.

Dr. B: Well, they probably learned to recognize a lot of words by sight.

Parent: And then taught themselves a workable code?

Dr. B: I don’t know. It sure seems like it. But the rest of us, who struggled to learn to read, certainly needed the decoder ring.

Parent: You mean Phonics?

Dr. B: Yep. Phonics.

Parent: I think I still have my decoder ring, somewhere.

Doc: Why the glum face?

Parent: My kid hates reading.

Doc: Oh, oh. Are you sure he’s really your kid?

Parent: I guess reading interest and ability aren’t inherited.

Doc: If ever there was a family where that would be the case, it would be yours … but no. there’s no such gene.

Parent:  So why doesn’t he like to read? We’ve read to him since his inception.

Doc: Ha. Bet you read him Moby Dick while he was floating in amniotic fluid.

Parent: By this age, his brother and sister were reading bedtime stories to us.

Doc: Maybe reading is hard for him.

Parent: The other kids just started reading along with us during story time.

Doc: Were they decoding new words or remembering familiar ones?

Parent: What do you mean, decoding?

Doc: Decoding means sounding out words. It’s knowing what sound each letter can make and then combining them.

Parent: You mean like c – a – t?

Doc: Exactly.

Parent: I don’t remember the older kids doing that. They seemed to recognize familiar words.

Doc: Some kids can do that, but the best way to learn to read is to combine decoding with a good spoken vocabulary.

Parent: Spoken vocabulary? As in knowing what peanut butter means before being able to read it?

Doc: Yep. When we teach kids to decode new words by sounding them out, they are able to match those written words with words they already know (verbally).

Parent: So, the teaching of reading is like teaching code breaking.

Doc: Exactly. And the code is called “phonics”.

Parent: So, if my son knows all the phonics sounds, he’ll be able to read good?

Doc: Well.

Parent: Well, what?

Doc: Kids who don’t get explicit instruction in all the phonics sounds, with practice in dividing words into syllables, can really struggle with reading.   

Parent: How do I find out whether he’s learned that?

Doc: Give him some unfamiliar words and see if he attacks them by sounding them out, like va/ca/tion. He needs to learn that the letter “a” can be long or short, as in base and bat. There’s a set of decoding rules in addition to the basic sounds, like the “e” on the end of “base” making a long “a” sound. He also needs to learn that “tion” sounds like “shun”.

Parent: Sounds like there are a lot of sounds and a lot of rules.

Doc: As you know, English has lots of exceptions, but there are 44 basic sounds for the consonants and vowels and when he knows them, he’s on his way. The exceptions won’t slow him down that much.

Parent: So, what do I do? Go talk to his teacher about the need for Phonics?

Doc: I think if you want the best results in the shortest amount of time, you should do it yourself.

Parent: Do what?

Doc: Teach him phonics.

Parent: How would I learn to do that?

Doc: How do you learn to fix your dishwasher or replace a headlight?

Parent: I search for a video on You Tube.

Doc: That’s where I would start for phonics instruction.

Parent: How did anything get done before You Tube?

Doc: It was a struggle.

Parent: Is that where you learned to be a psychologist?

Doc: We’ll just let that be our little secret.

Parent: I’ve been thinking about your phonics gig. The ability to read is really important.

Dr. B: Oh, my goodness. Don’t get me started.

Parent: By all means. Give me your elevator pitch for reading.

Dr. B: Elevator pitch? Without the ability to read, it’s hard to get out of society’s basement.

Parent: You mean all good paying jobs require reading?

Dr. B: Absolutely. And the ability to read also affects how much we understand things like health risks, nutrition, medical advice, employment rights, the legal system, …

Parent: I get it. Reading opens all doors.

Dr. B: More like, the lack of reading ability closes most doors.

Parent: Lots of kids hate school.

Dr. B: Lots of kids really struggle with reading. That makes school worth hating.

Parent: Ouch.

Dr. B: For children, poor reading is associated with increased risk of school dropout, attempted suicide, incarceration, anxiety, depression, and low self-concept.

Parent: Reading is so central, isn’t it?

Dr. B: Did you know that nationwide, only 30% of 3^rd graders read at or above grade level?

Parent: That’s shameful.

Dr. B: The odds of dropping out of school are four times higher for those poor readers.

Parent: And.

Dr. B: And half or all inmates in prison are functionally illiterate and 80% didn’t finish high school.

Parent: Now I’m getting depressed.

Dr. B: It IS depressing. We can go to Mars, but we can’t teach our kids to read?

Parent: Actually, I’m more angry than depressed.

Dr. B: As you should be.

Parent: You said some schools aren’t teaching reading the right way? How can that be? Hasn’t reading been studied?

Dr. B: It has. There is a science of reading. But not everyone studies it, believes it, or knows how to teach it.

Parent: That does sound familiar. Some people have alternative facts about how to teach reading?

Dr. B: Something like that.

Parent: So, if you are a parent, you could feel like your child is getting cheated.

Dr. B: Yeah. Especially if you don’t have the money to go elsewhere.

Parent: Can’t they sue their school system?

Dr. B: Some people have. There are states that have passed laws that phonics must be taught in grade schools.

Parent: Good, but I’ll bet that’s not easy to enforce.

Dr. B: You are sounding jaded.

Parent: It’s been a jaded decade. What’s a parent to do?

Dr. B: Squeak early, squeak often.

Parent: I like that.

Dr. B: If their state has passed legislation mandating phonics instruction, they can make sure that it is actually taught, not just given lip service.

Parent: Taught, as in teachers getting specific training in teaching phonics, having the classroom materials, and receiving the 1:1 tutoring help to individualize it?

Dr. B: Hey. You’re quick to grasp the essentials.

Parent: I get the sense that phonics isn’t exactly rocket science. Phonics may be simple and boring, but it is fundamental. Kind of like needing to know how to multiply and divide.

Dr. B: Good analogy. You seem to be a math guy. Here’s a simple formula for reading.

RC = D x LC

Where (RC) is reading comprehension, (D) is decoding, and (LC) is language comprehension. 

Parent: So, it’s great that we read to kids. That’s the LC part. But if we skip the phonics part, the D for decoding part, we are basically multiplying by zero!

Dr. B: Exactly!

Parent: Are parents dependent on schools to get it right with reading?

Dr. B: The quality of teaching makes a huge difference in student outcomes. Like earning $320,000 more over a lifetime.

Parent: Wow. So, a low performing school is costing the community almost $8 million dollars for every class of 25 kids.

Dr. B: And that doesn’t even add in all the extra expenses to the community of social, legal and medical services that accompany the poorly educated.

Parent: So, if a parent is stuck in a neighborhood with poor schools and no choice, what can they do? And don’t tell me squeak.

Dr. B: Learn how to teach their kids to read.

Parent: How?

Dr. B: Same way you fix your car. Start watching YouTube videos about how to teach phonics. There’s lots of material on line, especially given how many kids are home schooled.

Parent: Can I ask ChatGPT how to teach phonics?

Dr. B: Sure, but you probably get what you pay for.

Parent: So, if I’m willing to pay?

Dr. B: Search for How to teach phonics or Parents teaching phonics or Learning Phonics at Home. Or just push the easy button and look up Hooked on Phonics.

Parent: What does your T-shirt say? F-o-n … i-x?

Dr. B: Oh, this? It’s my new gig?

Parent: Is Fon … ix some new high-tech venture?

Dr. B: Actually, it’s about as low tech as it gets.

Parent: Huh?

Dr. B: I’m teaching phonics to kindergarten and first grade kids at the neighborhood school.

Parent: Oh, I get it. Fon-ix stands for p-h-o-n-i-c-s.

Dr. B: Yep.

Parent: So, you are teaching them phonics and THEN you are going to teach them how to spell?

Dr. B: If you take the T-shirt literally, …

Parent: … rather than seriously? Why are you tutoring kids in phonics?

Dr. B: If you were like me, learning to read as a kid was hard?

Parent: How did you know?

Dr. B: Well, I probably had better than a 50:50 chance of getting it right.

Parent: Did you slink down in your seat, so you wouldn’t get called on to read?

Dr. B: No, I usually asked to go to the bathroom, or to the nurse.

Parent: Did the teacher know you were faking it?

Dr. B: I wasn’t faking. Reading Class made me ill.

Parent: I can believe it. My mother and I had some epic battles over reading. She thought I was just being lazy.

Dr. B: That’s too bad, because it wasn’t your fault. We were just being taught the wrong way.

Parent: So, you are going to call my mother and tell her that?

Dr. B: I thought your mother passed away.

Parent: Yes, she did. That’s my point. Isn’t it a little late to be telling me this?

Dr. B: What if I told you, many schools are still teaching kids the wrong way?

Parent: If I was a parent of one of those kids, I’d be pissed. So, phonics is part of the right way?

Dr. B: Yep.

Parent: Phonics, as I understand it, is learning the sounds of all the letters. Isn’t that pretty boring? For the kid and the teacher?

Dr. B: Yeah. Actually, it is kind of boring. Kind of like doing push-ups is boring.

Parent: So, now you are going to tell me why it’s good for us … like push-ups?

Dr. B: Kids are hard wired for learning to talk. If they can hear, they’ll learn to talk. And the more they are talked to or read to, the more words they understand. 

Parent: Here comes the “But”. I can just sense it.

Dr. B: But kids aren’t hard wired to read. Just because they know a word, doesn’t mean they can read it.

Parent: Ah, I’m seeing what you are getting at. Written words are like a code and kids need to learn how to break the code.

Dr. B: Exactly. There are 26 letters in the alphabet, but there are 44 different sounds. And what sounds letters represent have all sorts of rules.

Parent: Now you really are boring me.

Dr. B: When kids see a new word, they need to know how to sound it out. And once they do, if it’s a word they already know …

Parent: Walla! They’re in business.

Dr. B: But if they don’t know how to sound out words, it’s like …

Parent: – being in a boat without a paddle.

Dr. B: I was going to say it’s like trying to teach yourself how to swim; but I like the ‘no paddle’ metaphor.

Dr. B – What have you concluded about coasting and humiliation?

Parent A – Oh, I think they are linked. Coasting is a safe form of avoiding humiliation.

Dr. B – Just do enough to avoid criticism?

Parent A – Yeah.

Dr. B – Have you developed a coasting cure?

Parent A – As a matter of fact. I do have some ideas. Or I should say, “We have some ideas”.

Dr. B – Your son is helping develop a coasting cure?

Parent A – With his help, I realized it is not just his issue.

Dr. B – Ha. A family affliction?

Parent A – Yeah. Coasting, as in the effort you seem to be giving this session.

Dr. B – I’m just trying to empower you.

Parent A – Whatever. He and I agreed that coasting did several things: It had to be easy. Just do as little as possible at the last minute. If you weren’t trying your hardest, you had nothing to lose. Do just enough to keep everyone satisfied (or not criticizing you).

Dr. B – And believe that school is not important?

Parent A – Yeah. Peer support for that notion is important, but we didn’t address that in our analysis.

Dr. B – So, what is the recipe?

Parent A – No grades; no comparisons; no time limits; and no failures. Just learning.

Dr. B – No failures? We want our kids to learn to tolerate failures and learn from them.

Parent A – That reminds me. One more on the list: “There’s no one right way to do something.”

Dr. B – How can you have no failures?

Parent A – It’s all about rebranding, Doc. Failures are attempts or trials or experiments. You know. Edison made a thousand different attempts with different filaments, not a thousand failures.

Dr. B – Ok. So, safety from failure, comparison, and judgment?

Parent A – Yeah. A humiliation free zone.

Dr. B – Sounds like a good plan. How are you going to apply that to school?

Parent A – I suspect there is more potential for this at school than my son realizes.

Dr. B – You mean with the math and English teachers?

Parent A – I think their options for rewriting and retesting had some of these factors in mind.

Dr. B – So, this plan will get a fair hearing?

Parent A – I suspect it will.

Dr. B – And here I thought the formula was, “Less work, more play”. 

Parent A – How did you ever get to be a doctor?

Dr. B – Can’t coast when you are married with kids.

Dr. B – What have you concluded about video gaming and coasting?

Parent A – My new hypothesis is that it doesn’t cause a lack of motivation, but enables it.

Dr. B – What do you mean by that?

Parent A – We did that experiment of no screens for a week.

Dr. B – I remember.

Parent A – Removing video gaming did not lead to improved effort in school.

Dr. B – Just improved effort with long lost hobbies as I recall.

Parent A – Yeah. It freed up time for other interests that had been neglected.

Dr. B – Like his robot building as I recall. Is he still doing that?

Parent A – Yeah. In fact, I think the robotics cut into video gaming more than anything else.

Dr. B – What’s your conclusion?

Parent A – I don’t think limiting video games and robotics would have any effect on school work.

Dr. B – So, let him play as much video gaming as he wants?

Parent A – Are you kidding? Of course not.

Dr. B – I thought you said video gaming was not the cause of poor effort in school?

Parent A – It’s still a choice of how to spend time. And if he is gaming he is not doing something else.

Dr. B – Like building robots.

Parent A – Or interacting with the family or reading a book or hanging out with friends or helping make dinner or …

Dr. B – I get it. It’s a time eater. The question should be, “What else would he be doing if he weren’t playing video games?”

Dr. B – What became of your humiliation hypothesis? Did you and your son discuss it?

Parent A – Yes.  The first attempt didn’t go well. He denied that he avoided humiliation.

Dr. B – You mean “being made to feel bad”?

Parent A – I started with that and he said, “Dad, why are you avoiding the word humiliation?”

Dr. B – Was he willing to talk about it?

Parent A – Surprisingly, he quit being defensive, and we had a pretty good discussion.

Dr. B – What did you two figure out?

Parent A – Actually, we had better luck talking about the positives – what worked well with soccer and video games.

Dr. B – Wise move.

Parent A – Eventually, that led to a conclusion that freedom from judgment and comparisons made gaming so much better than school.

Dr. B – I thought gaming was all about competition – winning and losing – and therefore comparisons. 

Parent A – I said the very same thing to him. He said, with gaming, everyone loses while they are getting better. No one cares. They just play the game over.

Dr. B – And what about the charismatic coach factor we discussed?

Parent A – He perked up when I said, “You just need to find a teacher like coach Barnes”.

Dr. B – And that led you to what?

Parent A – I suggested we go talk to his math and English teachers.

Dr. B – About what?

Parent A – About what he liked and didn’t like about their classes.

Dr. B – How did that go?

Parent A – They were good sports about it.

Dr. B – Did you bring up the subject of effort?

Parent A – First, I asked how they thought he was doing.

Dr. B – Did their assessment match his “I’m doing just fine”?

Parent A – “Just fine” was the operative phrase. I think it meant something different to them than to my son.

Dr. B – And you asked what “just fine” meant?

Parent A – Absolutely. I wasn’t going to let an opportunity like that pass.

Dr. B – And what did you all conclude?

Parent A – Both teachers said he was doing fine, but wasn’t giving his full or best effort.

Dr. B – And your son’s response?

Parent A – He slunk down in his chair as if we wouldn’t notice he was still there.

Dr. B – Ha. Yeah. Did you reach any new understandings?

Parent A – Well I did. I was unaware that the opportunity for avoiding humiliation was available, if he chose to use it.

Dr. B – What do you mean?

Parent A – The math teacher said that he was welcome to come see him after an exam, they could go over what he missed, and after focusing on those areas of improvement, he was free to retake a test for a better grade.

Dr. B – Do you think your son will do it?

Parent A – I’m hopeful. I certainly feel like I can ask about it if the coasting continues.

Dr. B – And the English teacher?

Parent A – Get this. This guy had a sure-fire system for success and my son acted like he had never heard of it.

Dr. B – I can tell you are excited.

Parent A – Actually I am. I wish I had something like it in school. This teacher has a whole rubric for what characteristics an essay contains to warrant an A, B, C, D, or F.

Dr. B – You mean like a paint by number essay writing rubric?

Parent A – And get this. He lets the kids have as many rewrites as they care to do.

Dr. B – This teacher needs to get a life.

Parent A – I asked some other parents. They all want their kids in his class. They say their kids go in kicking and screaming because he’s the toughest grader in the school but come out saying he was the best teacher they ever had.

Dr. B – That’s high praise. How did your son respond?

Parent A – The teacher pulled out is last essay. There were more teacher comments than original text.

Dr. B – This guy needs a raise.

Parent A – No kidding. When I read the comments, they clearly explained the problems, linked them to the rubric, and did everything but put the ball on the tee for his next shot (at it).

Dr. B – What effect did this have on your son?

Parent A – I don’t know, yet. But I’m certainly more aware of what opportunities he has and is not taking advantage of.

Dr. B – Do you think either of these teachers could play more of a role of charismatic adult for him?

Parent A – That’s a good question. I let both of them know that they could expect much more out of him.

Dr. B – Ha. What did your son think of that?

Parent A – I’m not sure. I think part of him was annoyed that I had meddled, but another part of him appreciated the fact that we all knew he had more ability that he wasn’t showing.

Dr. B – So, what is your final conclusion about video gaming. Does it interfere with school?

Parent A – I suspect it makes coasting easier. 

Dr. B – As in, “out of sight, out of mind”?

Parent A – Maybe doesn’t cause it, but certainly enables it. But so does YouTube, texting, building robots, or playing the guitar.

Dr. B – In other words, “all things more fun than doing homework”

Parent A – Yep.

Dr. B – What have you figured out about your son’s coasting in school?

Parent A – Well, I have some guesses, but no answers.

Dr. B – What are your guesses?

Parent A – We did the week-long experiment of no screens. That seemed to show me that video games were not the CAUSE of him not applying himself in school.

Dr. B – So, video games don’t cause coasting?

Parent A – Maybe enables it, but doesn’t cause it. At least not with my son.

Dr. B – That’s an important finding, but …

Parent A – (overlapping) It hasn’t made a difference in his effort in school.

Dr. B – So, where does he give his best effort?

Parent A – Video games.

Dr. B – Ha. Yeah.

Parent A – And on the soccer field.

Dr. B – That’s interesting. So, his coasting is only in certain areas, like school. What is your best guess at why he coasts in school?

Parent A – He says he is doing well enough, but he would never say that about video gaming or soccer. He’s always striving to improve with those.

Dr. B – What do you think is going on?

Parent A – He says he just doesn’t care about school. But he used to love school. So, not caring sounds like an excuse.

Dr. B – What is his excuse protecting him from?

Parent A – Well, my guess is he doesn’t want to give his full effort and still come up short.

Dr. B – Is that what he has told you?

Parent A – Actually, that is a guess based on my attitude at that age. Avoid comparisons that can make you look bad.

Dr. B – Avoiding humiliation ranks right up there for middle school aged boys.

Parent A – Not sure avoiding humiliation has an age limit on it.

Dr. B – You are probably right. I’ve seen plenty of middle-aged-middle schoolers still guarding against humiliation.

Parent A – What do you suggest I do with this great hypothesis?

Dr. B – What hypothesis is this?

Parent A – That my son’s effort is inversely related to the threat of humiliation.

Dr. B – That does sound elegant.

Parent A – Thank you, but how do I translate it into greater effort in school? And don’t just give me that tired old motivation formula of yours.

Motivation = (I want) x (I can)

Dr. B – According to your hypothesis, the risk of humiliation discourages motivation or effort. How is this for a formula?

Motivation/Humiliation = Effort

Parent A – Great, but where do we intervene?

Dr. B – Good question. I guess you could increase the wanting or the belief that he can.

Parent A – Or decrease the threat of humiliation.

Dr. B – That would be ideal. How do those factors work with video games and soccer?

Parent A – I think with video games, he really enjoys mastering the levels and getting better. And he can try, fail, learn, and play again, all in the privacy of his room. He’s taken the threat of humiliation out of the picture – at least when it comes to public humiliation.

Dr. B – That sounds good. How about the soccer?

Parent A – He enjoys being part of the team. Loves the game.

Dr. B – And the humiliation of losing?

Parent A – He’s got a great coach who inspires him.

Dr. B – Inspires in what way?

Parent A – He has high expectations for my son. He turns mistakes into learning opportunities. And my son adores him and doesn’t want to disappoint him.

Dr. B – So, effort is valued over goals?

Parent A – Effort to improve is the primary goal.

Dr. B – I need to meet this guy.

Parent A – So, how does this help with school?

Dr. B – I like your analysis of soccer and video games. But you need to see what your son thinks of it.

Parent A – And if by some chance he does?

Dr. B – Then you and your son go to school and find a charismatic teacher or a class where the threat of humiliation is manageable. Or both.

Parent A – Well, that should be easy.

Dr. B – Oh, and you might want to find a better word to use than humiliation.

Parent A – Now you tell me.

Parent A – I think the benefits of the grand experiment (of no screens for a week) are wearing off.

Dr. B – What do you mean?

Parent A – Well, like you warned me, limiting the video gaming did not produce an academic transformation.

Dr. B – So you deem your little experiment a failure?

Parent A – Oh, no. In fact, I’m doing some writing in the morning now and I’m back to reading novels. 

Dr. B – And neglecting your morning coffee and “all the news that’s fit to print”?

Parent A – The world seems to be managing without my full attention.

Dr. B – And how about your son?

Parent A – What do you mean?

Dr. B – I remember you saying he was making some “amazing’ projects out of Lego’s.

Parent A – Actually, he’s kept at it.

Dr. B – Your experiment had no effect on his school work, but …

Parent A – But I missed an opportunity to show him that his video gaming interfered with pursuit of genuine interests – like his Lego inventions?

Dr. B – That sounds like a variation on your “misplaced priorities agenda”.

Parent A – Well it’s true.

Dr. B – Of course it is, but it goes without saying. Your son has decided for himself to spend more time on Lego inventions and less on video gaming.

Parent A – So, keep the conflict in the kid, stupid? Is that what you are saying?

Dr. B – I would have gone with “Less is More”, but now that you have said it, sure … don’t mess with a good within-kid-process underway.

Parent A – Duly noted. Now what?

Dr. B – You mean “what?” with respect to your school effort agenda, or “what?” with respect to talking to your son from a place of genuine curiosity?

Parent A – Ouch. You are being rough on me today.

Dr. B – I’m sorry if it feels like a dope slap. I’m just pointing out a missed opportunity to be curious about an area of obvious interest and ability. And shouldn’t that be your “agenda”?

Parent A – I guess I did have blinders on.

Dr. B – Don’t worry. If you only get a hit one third of the time, you’ll end up in the Hall of Fame.

Parent A – And not the Parental Hall of Shame?

Dr. B – Goodness no. Remember, we’re aiming for “Good Enough”, not perfection.