Skiing Uphill

Parent: I thought you said, “Practice makes perfect”?

Dr. B: I never said that.

Parent: I get you and my mother mixed up, sometimes.

Dr. B: That’s not good. So, what’s your question? 

Parent: Well, I’ve been skiing for years but I don’t get better.

Dr. B: And?

Parent: Doesn’t that sort of disprove your Growth Mindset practice stick?

Dr. B: I hope not. How did you learn to ski?

Parent: I’m self-taught. I’m a good athlete. Figured I could pick it up. 

Dr. B: How did you learn to turn?

Parent: Funny you should ask. First time down the hill in college I was headed for a tree …

Dr. B: And?

Parent: I just figured it out.

Dr. B: On the fly?

Parent: Yeah, I just turned instinctively. It’s kind of like skating.

Dr. B: Were you drinking?

Parent: That’s not relevant.

Dr. B: Do you enjoy skiing?

Parent: Yeah, but I’m still stuck skiing the blue slopes while my kids are off on the double black diamonds.

Dr. B: How did they learn?

Parent: I put them in ski school, right from the beginning.

Dr. B: So they learned to ski the right way. 

Parent: I guess so. 

Dr. B: It takes five times longer to unlearn a bad form than to learn it correctly as a beginner.

Parent: So practice won’t cure my technique?

Dr. B: Not if you are doing it over and over the wrong way.

Parent: Your Growth Mindset is beginning to get old. 

Dr. B: Next time you go skiing, take a lesson from one of the ski school instructors before you start your day.

Parent: So how does this help me as a parent?

Dr. B: It’s a reminder that our brains are ready to learn new stuff, but once we learn something, it’s hard to change.

Parent: Again, how does it apply to kids?

Dr. B: Kids learn from what we say and do, and how we say it and do it. 

Parent: So, don’t say, “ain’t”? 

Dr. B: I was thinking more along the lines of be polite, treat others with respect, and be open to new and differing ideas. 

Parent: Ok. “Do” are always better than “don’t” .

“I Can’t Draw”

Parent: A Fixed Mindset assumes you are what you are. A Growth Mindset assumes you can change if you put in the effort?

Dr. B: That’s a pretty good summary. 

Parent: This Growth Mindset thing got me thinking.

Dr. B: Oh, oh. That’s never good.

Parent: This is supposed to be a serious site.

Dr. B: What have you been thinking?

Parent: Well, I always assumed I was no good at music or drawing or skiing or playing ping pong  or …

Dr. B: Wow! Too much thinking, I think. Slow down. Let’s take one at a time.

Parent: Ok. How about drawing?

Dr. B: What about it?

Parent: Well, I assume some people are just naturally gifted artistically, but most of us aren’t.

Dr. B: You aren’t born in one category or another: Can draw or can’t draw.

Parent: But my cousin can draw anything she’s seen, perfectly, from memory. 

Dr. B: Yep, she does sound gifted. And probably draws all the time.

Parent: Yep. 

Dr. B: But your question was, “Can you learn to draw?”

Parent: Not like her.

Dr. B: So what. Can you learn to draw better than you can now?

Parent: Sure. Probably, with enough instruction and practice. 

Dr. B: Do you believe that or are you just giving me the answer I want to hear?

Parent: Busted!

Dr. B: Actually, it’s true. Drawing is a skill. If you start with the basics, you can improve quite rapidly. 

Parent: Even at my age?

Dr. B: Yep. Even at your age, old man. 

I Hate Math

Dr. B: What did you like and dislike most about school?

Parent: I liked my friends and I hated math.

Dr. B: Still friends with those folks?

Parent: Absolutely.

Dr. B: Still hate math?

Parent: Absolutely.

Dr. B: Why do you hate math?

Parent: I’m just not good at it.

Dr. B: Like math anxiety?

Parent: No. I just suck at math.

Dr. B: Wow! Were you born that way?

Parent: Yeah.

Dr. B: Brown eyes. Left-handed. And suck at math.

Parent: How did you know I was left-handed? But yeah, born that way.

Dr. B: Do your kids hate math too?

Parent: Yeah.

Dr. B: So, it runs in the family?

Parent: What are you getting at?

Dr. B: Math ability isn’t something you just have or don’t have.

Parent: Well, for some reason, I don’t have.

Dr. B: Did your math teachers expect everyone to keep up?

Parent: Yep.

Dr. B: So half the class was bored and half the class was lost?

Parent: All the time.

Dr. B: What?

Parent: I always hit a wall by October and could never recover.

Dr. B: Hit a brick wall instead of building one.

Parent: Huh?

Dr. B: Math is like building a brick wall. The first brick needs to be securely in place before the next one is laid on top of it. 

Parent: Like crawling before walking before running?

Dr. B: Couldn’t have said it any better.

Parent: So … why do I still suck at math?

Dr. B: Too many loose bricks in your wall, maybe?

Parent: Huh?

Dr. B: If you carefully master one concept before you move to the next, math won’t be difficult. 

Parent: I’m not starting over now. I’ve got a calculator for everything I need.

Dr. B: So you want to stay stuck and suck?

Parent: Tear down the wall and start over? 

Dr. B: Well, I was hoping you’d want to keep your kids from sucking too.

Parent: Ooh. Here comes the parental guilt trip. So now it’s my fault if I don’t do something about it?

Dr. B: You’re the one who used the word guilt.

Parent: What do you suggest? I know you have a suggestion. 

Dr. B: Thanks for asking. Go to KhanAcademy.org and 

Parent: And what?

Dr. B: And stop the “I suck at math Syndrome” that’s plaguing your family.

Think Goldilocks

Dr. B: Remember the story of Goldilocks?

Parent: You mean the overly entitled kid who was breaking into houses instead of going to school?

Dr. B: I’ll bet you put the Grimm back in Fairy Tales.

Parent: Of course I remember Goldilocks. What’s your point?

Dr. B: Goldilocks has much to teach us about parenting.

Parent: As in know where your kid is and who they are with?

Dr. B: No, that’s Little Red Riding Hood.

Parent: I get those two mixed up.

Dr. B: Remember how Goldilocks avoided too hot and too cold?

Parent: Yeah – she always had to have everything – “just right”.

Dr. B: You just won’t let up on this kid will you? She’s fictional.

Parent: I used to date someone like that.

Dr. B: Oh. I see. That would take more than a minute, wouldn’t it?

Parent: Yeah. So, why am I supposed to remember Goldilocks?

Dr. B: She reminds us that we need to help our kids stay in the zone.

Parent: The Zone of Entitlement?

Dr. B: No. Where things are not too easy, nor too hard.

Parent: Just …

Dr. B: Just challenging.

Parent: Like riding a bike instead of a tricycle or a unicycle.

Dr. B: Not exactly the metaphor I usually reach for, but it works.

Parent: It is just common sense. Stay in a zone that’s challenging, but not overwhelming.

Dr. B: Yeah.

Parent: Sort of like a two-wheeler with training wheels?

Dr. B: Exactly. Training wheels until all they need is you running along beside them.

Parent: I get it. You want me to keep using this Goldilocks Zone approach with my kids, where things are challenging, but can be taken on with support, which can eventually be withdrawn as they master the challenge.

Dr. B: Whose “Got a Minute” lecture is this?

Parent: You were running overtime. I figured you needed a little support to finish on time.

Dr. B: Thanks. I think.

Falling in love with failing

Taking on challenges, struggling, failing, analyzing mistakes, and reengaging is the route to growth, competence and self-esteem. Therefore children must learn to tolerate this process, including the failures. False praise and unrealistic labels create a focus on judgment that undermines a child’s willingness to risk failures.

Fostering Openness to Learning and Growth

Striking out in baseball is a mini failure and to some of us, quite painful. So how can I avoid this pain? If I don’t go up to bat, I will never strike out and therefore, never have to feel the pain of humiliation and frustration. Or … I can only hit against pitchers I am sure I can handle – therefore staying free of another dreaded strikeout. Two elegant solutions if I don’t say so. There is only one problem, however, with this elegant plan. If I never bat against challenging pitching, I will never improve. I have to meet the challenge of better pitching so that I can master and grow.

The act of striking out represents engagement in a challenging zone I have yet to master. If I want to get better, I need to risk striking out. In fact, if I analyze why I missed the pitch, I will get better – whether that analysis takes place behind a video screen or at bat having missed the first two strikes. This is a longwinded way of saying that to become a good baseball player, I must learn to tolerate failures, because they are sources of learning.

So how do we convince our children that they need to welcome failure as a means of learning and growing? Listen to this praise from a proud baseball dad:

“You are such a good hitter. You hit the ball every time. Three hits today! What a great hitter you are!”

What do you think of the praise Dad has handed out? He’s pretty proud of his son, isn’t he? Does anything worry you about what you just heard?

This is a loving, well-intentioned father. He believes he is heaping well-deserved praise on his son. What he is also heaping on his son is some unnecessary pressure. He has labeled him a “good hitter”, even a “great hitter”. That is a tough standard to live up to. There is added pressure if the child thinks Dad’s interest and caring is dependent upon continuing to be “good” or “great”. Unfortunately, Dad has also attached an unintended standard for what it means to be good or great. He observed, “You hit the ball every time” and “(You got) three hits today” in the process of labeling his son “good” and “great”. So what happens if the boy goes 0 for 4 in the next game? What if he strikes out more often than he gets hits? Is his status as “good” or “great” at risk? Will he worry about disappointing his dad? Will he view himself as a failure?

What do you think of these comments?

After striking out to end the game, his father consoles him,

“Don’t worry. You played great. You guys will win next time.”

So what is a boy to make of that? He certainly knows that striking out is not playing “great”. And what if they don’t win next time? Now do you understand why a kid would only want to go to bat against easy competition? That would certainly eliminate this confusion and potential for disappointment. Or, how about this as a solution? Blame the umpire for a bad third strike call. And find a good excuse why the other team won, such as cheating or unfair home field advantage. These are “great” ideas because they allow the child to preserve the label or expectation that he is “special” or “great”, as his dad called him, and can go on playing.

Can you think what the father might have said that would have been more helpful?

“So, how was it?” “What do you think went well?” “Any parts of that game you would like to change?” “How would you like to do that?”

“What did you think of that pitcher today?” “What did he do that made things tough for you guys?” “Want to figure out how to handle him next time?”

“Did you have fun?” “Why not?”

“I noticed that you did well spotting the fast balls the pitcher threw you, but had a harder time with the change-ups. I used to have a hard time hitting change-ups.” “Is that something you want to work on?”

If this boy is to grow as a ball player, he needs to tolerate losses and failures, like striking out. He also needs to know that failures or attempts are how he gets better. Perhaps they need to be labeled something other than failures. Something like trials or attempts? Linking trials with analysis, learning and improvement is the preferable route rather than linking success and failure with ratings of the person. Judgment is ultimately what steers boys away from activities such as sports, academics or talking to girls.

Perhaps the best way to promote this openness to failure and learning is for the father or coach to model it himself. When the child sees that the adult welcomes and learns from failures, it clearly becomes something acceptable for the child as well. Video games or Wii Sports are great opportunities for parents to model learning from losing. When a child sees the parent replay a lost game in order to learn how to play it better the next time, that probably has more potency than just giving that advice.

Keep the conflict in the kid

Self-reliance is an essential developmental goal. It involves a process of the child assuming responsibilities previously provided for them from external sources – like mom tying their shoes, zipping their coat, and putting them to bed. Growth occurs because the child wants to learn and be more self-reliant. Growth is slowed by too much dependence on outside help. Limits protect kids from dangers or things they can’t control themselves. Limits can and should change as children demonstrate the ability to self-regulate instead of needing external limits to regulate their behavior. Kids invariably want more freedom and more privileges. If they believe those freedoms and privileges are at the whim of controlling adults, then conflict arises between child and parent. Growth occurs if the child realizes that the conflict belongs in him and he is capable of changing it himself. If he develops greater responsibility and self-reliance, then the limits are relaxed accordingly. Therefore, conflict often belongs in the kid, not between parent and kid.

What is its value?

“Keep the conflict in the child” is a parental mantra to be repeated every time tension arises between parent and child around what hasn’t been done or should be done. If it is a mantra to be truly embraced, then it should guide our thinking before conflict breaks out. Anytime we are in conflict with our children we need to step back and ask ourselves, “Is this a case where the conflict needs to reside in the kid?” If we are nagging our child to do something, then the felt need to do it isn’t in the kid; it is in us. If we are badgering our child to complete an important assignment for school that is due the next day, the urgency is in us, not the child. Whose assignment is it? Who’s getting graded? Finding ways to effectively keep the conflict in the child saves a great deal of parent-child conflict. If only the child would let us.

So why is it so hard to do? Often, the conflict results from too much dependence and too little self-reliance, such as the way Mitch and Molly relate. Conflicts with kids about rules, limits, curfews can be angry and painful. But they are destined to continue as long as the child believes the parent is in control and is the one limiting them. In a healthy family, children know why limits exist and they also know what they need to take care of if they want those limits changed.

How is it achieved?

By explaining what level of responsibility warrants greater freedom or privilege, the parent puts the work (or conflict) back into the child. It is not a subjective or arbitrary granting of freedom by the parent. Instead, it is a privilege the child earns by demonstrating readiness. The training wheels come off the bike because the child demonstrates riding skill, not because he or she has reached a certain age.

The Magic Formula for Motivation

The Magic Formula

Children are motivated when they genuinely want a goal and believe they can accomplish it. That is quite different than a goal we want for them or we think they can or should attain. Getting it right, in terms of the Magic Formula: INVESTMENT = (I WANT) x (I CAN), is essential to motivation at school or at home.

The Essentials of Motivation

January of my senior year of college, four of us headed for Florida “to work on our tennis games”. As part of that on court development, we ventured into a Jai Alai arena in Miami one evening. Unfamiliar with the sport and ignorant of its subtleties, I quickly became bored and prepared to leave. But soon after placing a two-dollar bet, my face was plastered against the protective viewing glass screaming, “Go Quattro!” Anyone could see that after placing my bet, “I had skin in the game”. I went from passive and bored to an amped up fanatic. I share the experience because the difference in feeling was so dramatic, so visceral and so immediate. (It’s a little like filling out your NCAA basketball bracket in March and putting your $5 into the office pool.)

Red-faced and exhausted, you look across the kitchen table at your son and throw up your hands – unwilling to “go to the mat” with him one more time about finishing his homework. Now think, when it comes to finishing homework, “Who has the skin in the game?” As a parent, you are in a “damned if you do, damned if you don’t” position. You know for a fact that there is a world of difference in the outcomes of kids whose parents care and those who don’t. But at what price? You are their parent, not their friend. But you shouldn’t have to be the enemy in the process. Some days it feels like that, and you can see why many parents just let things slide. Parents do their own form of coasting. The child says, “I got it done at school” and accepting that excuse saves another evening of battling. Structure, limits and high expectations are essential. But motivation to do homework or work around the house should not just come from outside the child. There is a limit to how well that will work, and the older the child gets, the less well external sources of motivation work.

The secret to work at school, work at home, or work on the ball field is investment. If the child is not invested in the process, there are serious limits to what they can accomplish and how much they can be motivated. But, there is a magic formula for investment. Some might say, “Secret Formula” given the common absence of its application. It is simply:

(I want) x (I can) = Investment

If I have some skin in the game, if I truly want something, I am motivated to go after it. Equally as important is the belief that I can accomplish what I am after. When I want something and believe I am capable of achieving it, I’m invested. As a parent, a teacher, or a coach, we need to be on the correct side of this equation. If the child perceives the formula to read:

(You want) x (I can) = motivation

Then the investment depends more on not wanting to disappoint the parent, coach or teacher and less on something internal for the child. Like I said, the older the child, the less this second formula works. Adults who rely on the second formula usually have a rude awakening when the investment evaporates with adolescence.

Before you focus on what they should do, you need to focus on what goal they truly seek – what will make them “want” to do what it takes to get to that goal. At Oakland Tech High School, the kids in the Biotech Academy know that if they successfully complete their course work in the Academy, there is a job waiting for them in the industry upon graduation. For many impoverished kids with little hope or interest in completing high school, this opportunity stirs up the (I want). It still takes talented and motivated teachers to hold and promote high but achievable expectations for the (I can) part, but without the (I want), those efforts are usually falling on deaf ears.

So, before you get ready to do battle again, figure out how you help your child get some “skin in the game” and (want). Here’s a hint. Consider what the goal is and who is choosing it. If you have chosen it, then you have a lot of convincing to do to make the child want it as well. Here’s another hint: Start by listening (and being curious). If you start by joining them in their world, you have a good start at gradually pulling them into your world. Some kids accept the “because I said so” rationale. But if we are hoping for kids who think for themselves, our goals can quickly conflict on this course. It takes more work to find a course that includes a genuine (I want) on the part of the child, but the “because I said so” almost universally crashes and burns. And if it doesn’t, you have a whole set of different problems involving submission, accommodation, dependence, resentment, and depression waiting at the end of that developmental hallway. Or is that what we call, “normal adolescence”?

Visit the website for Teaching As Leadership: The Highly Effective Teacher’s Guide to Closing the Achievement Gap, by Steven Farr

Visit Grant Wiggins’ website to learn more about Understanding By Design

Understanding by Design, by Grant Wiggins at Amazon website

PA – Want practical advice about structuring homework effectively, including what not to do? Go to the University of Illinois Extension website: parenting247.org  This is a great website for practical parenting advice (and the research behind it) from infancy through adolescence.

PA – When you see the PA, you will immediately know there is a link to some practical advice, instead of all my “think of the big picture” #@*& !

Mastery vs. Speed

Let’s have some fun and visit an old tale – The Three Little Pigs – for insight into Mastery vs. Speed.

The Three Little Pigs – Mastery vs. Speed

Schools place too much emphasis on speed and not enough on mastery. In subjects such as math, a child should not move to the next topic before the previous (underlying) concept has been mastered. To do so is comparable to building a house on a shaky foundation.

Mastery vs. Speed

Remember the story of the Three Little Pigs? Ever wonder why two of the pigs built houses out of straw and twigs, only to be blown away by the Big Bad Wolf? And what possessed the third little pig to build one out of brick? Was the third pig smarter – born with more talent – better genes? Actually, they were brothers, all from the same litter. And no, they weren’t that different in intelligence; they were pigs for goodness sake.

The first pig went to a school where speed was emphasized. He won top honors for being the “speediest” pig. He ate fast, wallowed fast, and built houses faster than anyone. Building them out of straw definitely helped with the speed thing, because it was available right on the job site. The second pig went to a school where he learned to build the best house in the time allotted. And that was what he did. He built a very fine house of twigs and came in under budget, with a half day to spare. The third pig went to a school where nothing got done on time, because everything had to meet a certain standard before it was complete. Naturally, the third pig was unemployed after graduation, because he took too long to finish projects. Consequently, he was left to build his own house in all his free time. So it went, with each row of bricks slowly added, but only after the row below was set and secure. And you know the end to this story.

Good houses like good scholarship rely upon securing each level before adding the next. A good education is like a good house, it has to rest on a solid foundation. So how is speed an essential factor in building a solid foundation? Ask the first two pigs.

What is more important, quality of work or speed to completion? If I am paying by the hour, maybe speed. But for surgeon, songwriter, barber, and telephone advisory person – I have to go with quality. In fact, if I am paying for successful completion of the job, speed is not my concern. So why is speed such a big deal in school? Why are tests almost always timed?

I had a Chemistry professor in college who gave untimed tests. At the end of the semester, I went to turn in my test and he asked, “So how did you do?” to which I responded, “Couldn’t get the last problem” to which he responded, “Then sit down and derive it”. Bless his heart. He sat there another forty minutes in the empty classroom, while I figured it out. He knew I could and he wasn’t going to let an arbitrary deadline keep me from showing it.

Speed comes with competence, but speed should not be a measure of competence. And for those who are just naturally speedier – walk faster, talk faster, think faster – do they deserve special status? When I go to my doctor, I dislike waiting too long, but I dislike even more, an appointment that is rushed, where I am not carefully listened to, where the doctor does not think deeply before offering an answer to my questions.

A focus on speed often has to do with the need to keep up. Keep up with the rest of the class, get done within the 50-minute class period, and be ready to start the next unit on Monday. But every child is different and every child learns at his or her own rate. Therefore, setting the pace at which they must progress through the course is a set up for half the class feeling bored and half the class feeling overwhelmed and frustrated, convinced they are “just no good at math” or “hate math” or “have math anxiety”.

Designing a class that allows for self-paced learning is a challenge – one many teachers cannot or will not undertake.

The Goldilocks Principle

The Goldilocks Principle[AM1] 

Working within a Zone of Proximal Development promotes growth. ZPD is defined by the zone (tasks or expectations) just beyond what a child can do independently, yet short of what would be overwhelming, even with help. With the help of instruction and/or support (scaffolding) a child can take on new challenges. That scaffolding is gradually withdrawn as the skill is mastered, and the zone is adjusted upwards.

ZPD Is Where We Learn Best

Remember the story of Goldilocks? Of course. Do you remember Vygotsky and the Zone of Proximal Development? Maybe not? Let’s finally put Goldilocks to some good use. Of all people, “Why Goldilocks?” you ask? I’m finding value in that totally self-absorbed, overly entitled, seriously unsupervised little brat? Hear me out. We may get some actual work out of Goldie yet. By linking ZPD and Goldilocks, perhaps the former will be easier to access and the latter will be easier to tolerate.

As you recall, after breaking and entering, Goldilocks began her comfort seeking. “Not too hard, not too soft, just right.” … “Not too hot, not too cold, just right.” Actually that theme is an important one to remember. In fact, let’s call it a principle. The Goldilocks’ Principle: Not too ____, Not too _____, Just right? That’s much easier than calling it the Zone of Proximal Development, which is an essential part of any toolkit for parents, teachers, and coaches.

In its simplest form, ZPD means that children learn best when the work is not too hard, nor too easy, but just right. Vygotsky actually made it a little more sophisticated than a mere paraphrasing of Goldilocks. He said that the Zone of Proximal Development is defined at the lower limit by what children are capable of doing independently, with no help. The upper limit is bounded by what children are not yet capable of doing, even with the help of an adult. Bored vs. Overwhelmed for those of you who want to keep it as simple as it should be. Within the ZPD, children are capable of more challenging work if they have the assistance of an adult. In other words, they are challenged, but they have the necessary support to take it on. Operating within the ZPD means that as they begin to master the work, the amount of necessary support is reduced and the ZPD is adjusted upwards.

Goldilocks Principle (GP) = Zone of Proximal Development (ZPD)

Goldilocks Principle (GP)Zone of Proximal Development (ZPD)What My Mother Calls “Common Sense”
“Too Hot”Cannot do, even with helpOverwhelmed
“Just Right”Zone of Proximal DevelopmentChallenged    (w/ support)
“Too Cold”Can do independentlyBored

The support that allows the child to take on the more challenging work is often called scaffolding, as in the structure used to support workmen while constructing a building. In this case, the scaffolding (in the form of demonstrations, corrective feedback, support or encouragement) is withdrawn as the child attains mastery of the skill and no longer needs the support. Children need high expectations, but they also need the structure and support to make those expectations attainable.

Another good way to remember the workings of ZPD and scaffolding is to visualize a child learning to rock climb. With the aid of a harness, belaying rope and coach, the child can take on the challenge of climbing, trust that he will be safe when he falls, learn from his mistakes, and constantly improve. Without the belaying, most kids stay close to the ground, while the others put the orthopedist’s children through college.

(in terms of BIG IDEAS in Child Development, they don’t get any bigger than Vygotsky’s ZPD)