How Thin a Veil...

What I Learned Over Winter Vacation - PART II 

In my work life, I am often part of conversations among professionals concerned about children’s learning difficulties.  Basically, the question goes:  Why aren’t kids – all kids -- learning in school?  Why aren’t they engaged in learning?    

The last two weeks have convinced me once again that if there is a veil cloaking children’s enthusiasm for learning, then how thin a veil it is…

I am remembering the chain reaction of enthusiasm for reading that Da’Sean set off last week when he pulled “Charlie and the Chocolate Factory” back off the bookshelf, got comfy beside me on the couch, and started reading it out loud -- with inflection.  Next thing we knew, Dareeona was proclaiming that she would be reading “My Brother Martin” over the break, and Dalisha was chiming in, “No fair!  What am I going to read?”  Even 23-month-old Chunk Chunk was pulling books off the shelf (she seems to have a preference for non-fiction “chapter books”) and play-reading alongside the others! 

  

I am remembering the neighborkids reaction to the letter left by Santa – how one boy’s initial reluctance to read the note, murmuring “I’m not a good reader,” gave way to curiosity, inspiring him to snatch the letter from another boy’s hands so he could read ahead and be the first to find out all that Santa had to say.

I am remembering the excitement of Dantrae, Dalisha, and Dareeona when they got special permission from their dad to open the family’s decorative gingerbread jar and use the layered ingredients inside to make ginger cookies.  They invited Holly to join in the fun, and once again it was a recipe they followed entirely on their own, careful to keep from burning themselves as they slid the cookie sheet into and out of the oven. 

 

And then the fun we all had on Christmas Eve making a Feast of the Seven Fishes, even though none of us are Italian.  Daree made the clam dip and it turned out to be everyone’s favorite, and for the rest of the night we heard her say every so often, “I’m a good cooker, huh?” 

I am remembering Dmitri dropping by one afternoon and telling Quan and me over cocoa about how he got in trouble with his teacher the week before when he was urgently trying to let the teacher know about an amazing discovery he had just made.  After the boys commiserated some about what its like to get in trouble I asked:  So what was it you had discovered?  With that, Dmitri announced excitedly, “There is a sea sponge that is so big, a person can fit inside it.  And they don’t even get stung!” 

And finally, I am remembering Amorie and Deandre’s responses to the question I posed on the eve of their return to school.  “So what are you hoping to learn when you get back to school?” I asked.  “To do my work,” said Deandre; “to behave,” said Amorie.  What?!?  Those sound like the kinds of responses you tell grown-ups when you think you’re supposed to tell them what they want to hear!  “No, I mean what do you really want to learn?” I asked again.  After a long pause, Deandre said with certainty in his voice, “Math.  I really like math.”   

Enthusiasm for learning – yep, our neighborkids definitely have got it.  Who knows, Deandre might wind up following in the footsteps of Dr. Freeman Hrabowski III, president of the University of Maryland, Baltimore County. 

Dr. Hrabowski, who grew up in segregated Birmingham, Alabama in the 1960s, still remembers, “When I was a child I used to get goosebumps doing math problems." He shared that with the audience when he was giving a speech to the National Institutes of Health (NIH), and then asked,  “How do we help every child have that curiosity that drives them to work through the problem, and that sense of exhilaration when they finally figure it out? There's something very special about that."

It is special, and I’m glad our neighborkids keep reminding us what that enthusiasm looks and feels like – seems to me it’s important not just for kids to experience, but for all of us.