My husband and I have two grown daughters that daily make us proud. Our oldest daughter is a wife and mother to two daughters and is currently changing career directions, entering the medical field. Our youngest daughter is a wife and mother to two daughters and one son; she teaches yoga and Pilates at a regional medical wellness facility. Both daughters are active in the community in which they live and still manage to be excellent cooks and moms who play with their children. Both strive daily to achieve balance in the many roles they play, believing in the importance of each, and although they would probably both beg to differ with me, they somehow manage to get it all done. As teachers of gifted students, we too, find ourselves fulfilling many valuable roles --everything from maintaining documentation to providing in-service for classroom teachers to developing curriculum for multi-age students. The challenge that challenges is how to get it all done. After 24 years in the field I'm still trying to discover that magic balance formula; however . . .although maybe it should be... that is NOT the balance that concerns me. When I began coursework in gifted education, I learned the importance of balancing instruction equally between creativity, affective education, and critical thinking. I learned how important it was for gifted students of all ages to spend time with other gifted students, exploring differentiated topics in a differentiated manner. Our programs reflected that thinking and provided identified students balanced instruction --instruction honoring all areas. Unfortunately, in recent years programming has shifted focus. Now we find students even as young as 6th grade being served, not in the G.T. resource room, but in the regular classroom through what's called Pre-Advanced Placement. I agree that in the past the rigor in the regular classroom (where our kids spent most of their time) lacked challenge for gifted students. I also agree that in order to change that, gifted education had to hone in with a laser commitment, determined to pull in Pre AP and AP coursework to fill that void. There was a downside, however, to that victory... one that is seldom acknowledged --one that I've heard other G.T. teachers express...our G.T. programs became academic programs. Students lost their time together --they lost their chance to explore areas of personal interest --they lost exposure to differentiated subjects and ways of responding to their learning, they lost immersion in affective development, and they lost genuine experiences in creativity. I remember inwardly weeping when I would occasionally hear a G.T. teacher expressing excitement about NOT having to pull out high school and middle school students anymore; they were now using Pre-AP for their G.T. requirement. Why did we let go of what was so wonderful? Why didn't we give our kids the best of ALL worlds? Why didn't we fight to maintain a fine balance in our curriculum and the delivery of that curriculum? Our victory in the regular classroom resulted in the loss of so much. Gifted programs in the gifted and talented "setting" are virtually gone for older students. I can honestly say that the older my G.T. kids get the MORE they need their pullout program. It is true that we have those kids who, even without experiences in the gifted classroom, will still go on and achieve in college on a level worthy of their potential; however, I still wonder if their success would have been at an even higher level with continued experiences in creativity and affective development --something we'll never know. While I was in Japan, participating in the Fulbright Program, I had a conversation with Japan's Director of Education where I told him that educators in the United States envied Japan's continuing high scores in mathematics and the sciences. He smiled and said, "We in Japan admire the pragmatism of the United States. Our students are focused on one correct answer and do not have the skills to seek many solutions, many ideas --something crucial if Japan is to continue to succeed." Creativity. Our programs insured that older students continued their growing of creative thinking. I wonder what the cost is of leaving that behind? Sadly, we all see those G.T. kids whose negative G.T. characteristics often find them floundering; they become their own worst enemy, as is sometimes said. Unfortunately, these students too often become involved in drugs during their teenage years or decide they don't care anymore. I especially think of one bright young man I had in recent years who hated school. He would skip school for several days, but always came on G.T. day. Sometimes he would come for the G.T. seminar class in the middle of the day and then leave. The principal and I talked OFTEN about him (his home situation was a challenge) --this principal knew the only thing keeping him in school at all was G.T.; the decision was made to leave him in the program with the hope of keeping him in school. For two years I worked with this young man and with his teachers. Success or failure story? Only the years ahead will answer that. I remember another high school student who was one of the most creative students I've ever had. He managed academically; however, the products and ideas he generated in the G.T. setting amazed me. It was his safe haven --a place that nurtured his gift. I've wondered if the luxury of having a place to be himself --to be creative --is what kept him going... Where is the fine balance we once offered all gifted students? Where is that balance that honored creativity and affective development just as much as academics and critical thinking? Where are the programs that sought to identify creative children as well as those of high intelligence? I am proud of what has been done with Pre-AP and AP, appreciating the hard fought battle necessary for transforming classrooms, but I also mourn for what was given up in that endeavor. Our programs lost the balance that honored the whole of the gifted student. It's time to rejoice in the rigor our students now experience in today's classrooms and recapture what was lost. It's time to level the scale --it's time to reclaim a indeed very fine and wonderful balance.
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I have learned much from the teachers I have worked with over the years. Each of us is different in how we relate to our students, but we all share a profession that entrusts us with the possibility of what each child "could" be. That truth has always unnerved me. Everything I do or say has the potential to build up or tear down, based on the child's perception of what I did or said. Teachers are continually watched --so much of what children learn from us has absolutely nothing to do with the subject matter we teach. Several years ago I found myself watching a teacher I worked with --what I learned from her had absolutely nothing to do with the subject matter she taught. This teacher effortlessly made learning for her students fun and effective. Kids loved her and eagerly entered her room each morning with a smile, happy to be with her. She evidently believed laughter was a necessary component for learning because her class laughed often. Yet, she had great class control; her discipline techniques were virtually invisible. The students in her room cared for one another because she cared for each of them in a way that was definitely visible. Toward the end of each year, her students topped the scores on state mandated testing and when it came time to clean out desks and go home for the summer there were always tears --her students couldn't bear to think of not having her as their teacher any more. There was, however, an elephant in her classroom that no one ever saw --an elephant she successfully ignored. You see, this teacher's home life was a challenge. When the bell rang to go home at the end of the day, she went home to problems and a situation that would have completely overwhelmed most. I have often wondered where her strength came from. We were blessed to have her in our district for several years, however the time came for her to move on and so after the last teacher day of school, we surprised her with a special dinner at a restaurant. We were so loud that several at the tables nearby gave us "the look." The laughter continued until, finally, we decided to go around the table and tell what we would most remember about her. Someone mentioned her laughter, one mentioned a particularly funny story about an incident with a child, the stories and the laughter continued. Then it was my turn. I choked back the wetness I felt behind my eyes and began, "I can't believe I'm saying this, but I want you to know that we know the stress you have been under this year and admire the way you have handled all the things you have going on in your life. Despite everything, you have always come to school and been such a joy for the students in your classroom and such a joy for each of us. You have showed us that no matter what we have to deal with, we can choose to make our classrooms places kids love to be." The elephant in the room saw the tears in our eyes, turned around, and left. Of all the teachers I have worked with in my thirty three years of teaching, she is the teacher I most admire. She was a craftsman --an innovator --and someone who heaped love and joy on each child. She was an example of selflessness and the power of choosing not to allow feelings to determine actions. She was my teacher. |
AuthorPatricia Hesse --working with gifted students as young as 5 and as old as 18 for the past 24 years --remarkable kids! Archives
January 2014
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