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False Praise
Self-esteem, as bestowed upon America's youth
by the education system, is doing more harm than good. At best,
it is a short term fix. At worst, it's a lifelong affliction
that haunts people from the beginning of school until the day
they die. I saw a ceremony on the TV news honoring the 'Teacher
of the Year' for a local school district and the recipient of
the award was talking about how wonderful it was to find that
'spark of learning that exists in all children.' This is part of
the mantra of public education that says no child will be left
behind and all children can learn. "Left behind" where and
"learn" what isn't explained.
I am reaching my middle years but can still
look back at my school days with reasonable clarity. I know I
attended classes with some kids that didn't have a spark. They
didn't even have enough rough spots so when rubbed together
would produce any heat, much less a spark. They were about as
likely to produce light as banging two pieces of wet wood
together. Try as they might, there wasn't anything the teachers
could do to change the fact that their cognitive functions were
not up to the level needed to for mental combustion of any sort.
They weren't just dim, they were out.
Things haven't changed. Times have. There was
a time when we were not nearly as concerned with the student's
self esteem as we were with reality. It was once known that some
people in the world would spend their lives doing menial labor
like pumping gas or flipping burgers. For those people, the
kindest thing we could do was clue them in. That way, they could
get on with their lives performing the work available to them as
best they could. And it was okay. People took pride in what they
did. If they pumped gas, they showed up for work every day, on
time. They cleaned the windows, vacuumed the carpet, checked the
fluids, and basically did a good job. They were respected for
their efforts and they appreciated the opportunity. They were
happy because they didn't have any false expectations of what
might have been.
The menial labor jobs were and are important.
They represented honest work and required diligent effort to be
good at them. They required a positive attitude. Success wasn't
measured in these jobs as how much money you made but by how
good a worker you were. True self-esteem was then and is now the
byproduct of personal achievement. Only then, we hadn't
forgotten it.
Today, there's a misconception that all
ability is either equal or relative. All kids are told from the
moment they enter school that they are smart. Euphemisms like
"some children are just smart in different ways" are used to
protect children and their parents from harsh reality. This
isn't entirely the fault of the schools. The last thing parents
wish to hear is that little Johnny or Susie is a dim bulb or
that perhaps they should be saving up for vocational school
instead of Harvard. So, what happens is that little Johnny and
Susie are told from the moment school begins until they get
their diplomas that they are just as capable and smart as
everyone else.
So they march across the stage and out into
the real world. They drop out of college when they can't cut it
academically, or they get fired from their jobs because they
haven't caught on fast enough. They then start to think
something may be amiss. They end up with the menial job anyway.
The only difference is that they aren't happy doing it. They
aren't making $100,000 and believe they have somehow been
cheated. So they don't do a good job and they spend their lives
being unhappy because nothing they are capable of meets the
expectation drilled into them since kindergarten. People who are
unhappy in their work often do it badly. The worker isn't happy,
the customer isn't happy and the employer can't seem to find
good help.
We should really revisit our focus for
education. We should be trying to direct our kids towards
realistic goals based on their ability to achieve and perform.
There is no shame in an honest day's work for an honest day's
pay. At least there didn't used to be.
Copyright © 2001 Write Winger Productions, All rights reserved

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