The January 2016 debut of my column, "The Heart of It," ended with this line: "Here's to the kids who teach us so much and to the educators who learn from them every day!" Dozens of readers wrote to encourage me to keep both the column name and the closing words. Thank you for this advice; I will heed it. Hopefully, this column will emphasize the "why" of our work—to make the world better one student and one educator at a time. So let me share one of those moments.
Flash back to March 24, 1989. The supertanker Exxon Valdez poured 11 million gallons of crude oil into Alaska's pristine Prince William Sound, which resulted in every major publication detailing the devastation of wildlife and predicting the ensuing impact for years to come. Two weeks later, across the country in northeast Ohio, I was finalizing a science unit that I had spent weeks preparing. I could hardly contain my enthusiasm as I looked optimistically at my students who had donned their physician lab coats in preparation for an amazing (at least in my mind) lesson on the human anatomy.
I was not 10 minutes into the lesson when Mike shouted in frustration, "This is irrelevant!" That unexpected outburst stopped me in my tracks. The room grew uncomfortably quiet as students anticipated my sending Mike to the principal's office. Fortunately, something pulled at my heart and caused me to take a deep breath, gather patience, and ask Mike to explain his outburst.
Mike pulled out a tattered magazine that graphically displayed the results of the Exxon Valdez disaster. He stated softly, "This is what matters. This matters to me and to all of us. Our world is crumbling and we are sitting here pretending to be physicians. Why can't we be environmentalists?" I realized at that moment that kids can authentically drive their own learning. Without much thought, I set aside my planned lesson, engaged the class in a discussion, and allowed my students to determine our science focus for the next month.
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For Mike and countless other gifted students, relevant units of study are essential. Such lessons speak to the hearts of students who sometimes worry beyond what their ages warrant and often have a deeper grasp of content than that required by their grade-level standards. Far too many times, our gifted students sit on the sidelines waiting for others to catch up in knowledge, skills, and cognitive abilities. Mike shared the frustration of doing just that.
Throughout my career, I have witnessed teachers and principals who create amazing learning environments to support and advocate for all students, no matter their gifts, talents, or challenges. The support, however, often depends upon resources; class sizes; support structures; leadership; budgets; and, most important, professional development. It takes time, practice, and coaching to understand the needs of all students and to create the personalized learning structures that engage and energize them. Even though teachers may not have all the tools to meet every child's needs, it is essential that they work within environments that place a high priority on professional learning, peer coaching, and engaging and supportive school cultures.
Back to the rest of the story. Following Mike's admonition, our class decided to study natural disasters. This detour enabled students to identify topics of interest, pursue them in meaningful ways, and prepare final products for a variety of audiences. We eventually returned to our study of the human body, and, as Mike donned his white lab coat, he smiled at me and reported, "Now I'm ready."
For Mike who challenged my science lesson, for Rebecca and Jessica whose writings were far more sophisticated than 6th graders usually produce, and for Raphael who worried about kids living in homeless shelters, thank you for helping me to understand the hearts and minds of gifted kids. In the units of study I planned following my time with you, I tried to respect my students' authentic interests and allow them to find a piece of themselves within the lessons.
