Arthur Zajonc, Ph.D.

Wherever you are in the world, a quiet—one might call it a “mindful”—revolution is taking place in education.

Visit a classroom in a high school, college, university, or professional school, and you might well see students sitting quietly with their eyes closed attending to their breath. They are using an age-old contemplative practice to settle their minds, reduce stress, strengthen attention, and to cultivate emotional balance. Although the roots of contemplative practice are ancient, modern-day neuroscience has shown that such practices have significant benefits for those who do them.

Visit the Law School at UC Berkeley and you might well meet Charles Halpern, Director of the Berkeley Initiative for Mindfulness in Law. Or maybe you are interested in Harvard’s educational leadership program. If so, you will likely bump into Jerry Murphy and Metta McGarvey, who offer a course on leadership with a contemplative component at Harvard’s Graduate School of Education. Or if you came to visit me at Amherst College, you would be welcomed into my First-Year Seminar, where every week I use a different contemplative exercise designed especially for each part of the course. Nor are such methods limited to the United States. I have worked with contemplative educators in Israel, Brazil, New Zealand, Australia, England, Finland, Germany, Holland, and France, to name a few.

Rather than tell you about the thousands of professors and high school teachers who are using contemplative practices as part of their pedagogy, I’ll send you to the Center for Contemplative Mind in Society website for information.

To give you a sense of how contemplative practice in education works in practice, let me invite you to my class for incoming first-year students.

As you come in, I hand you a sheet with a few short passages from authors whose ideas will prove central to the course. The first passage is from Henry David Thoreau’s Walden. Read it slowly and aloud:

“The morning, which is the most memorable season of the day, is the awakening hour. Little is to be expected of that day, if it can be called a day, to which we are not awakened by our Genius, but by the mechanical nudgings of some servitor, are not awakened by our own newly acquired force and aspirations from within, accompanied by the undulations of celestial music, instead of factory bells, and a fragrance filling the air — to a higher life than we fell asleep from . . . . The millions are awake enough for physical labor; but only one in a million is awake enough for effective intellectual exertion, only one in a hundred millions to a poetic or divine life. To be awake is to be alive. I have never yet met a man who was quite awake. How could I have looked him in the face? . . . We must learn to reawaken and keep ourselves awake, not by mechanical aids, but by an infinite expectation of the dawn, which does not forsake us in our soundest sleep.”

When you have finished reading it, I may well ask another student or two to read it again, and then go on to read it aloud myself one last time, slowly. Already this is an adaption of the old monastic practice of lectio divina or sacred reading. Go ahead and read the above passage aloud, and take your time. You will be surprised by how much more you notice, how many questions and thoughts occur to you on the second or third reading.

Now that we have lingered long on the words of Thoreau, what do you think? What does he mean by the poetic and divine life? How awake, or how alive are you? How might you awaken yourself to a higher life “than we fell asleep from”? Pick a line or phrase and tell me what it signifies.

It is said that soon after his enlightenment, the Buddha passed a man on the road who was struck by the extraordinary radiance and peacefulness of his presence. The man stopped and asked,

“My friend, what are you? Are you a celestial being or a god?”

“Well, then, are you some kind of magician or wizard?”

“Well, my friend, what then are you:”

The name “Buddha” means “one who is awake.” Do you think you could have looked the Buddha in the face? What might it feel like?

Read Thoreau one last time, and then sit quietly for a while.

The second selection is composed of two short passages from Simone Weil’s remarkable book Gravity and Grace.

“All the natural movements of the soul are controlled by laws analogous to those of physical gravity. Grace is the only exception. Grace fills empty spaces but it can only enter where there is a void to receive it, and it is grace itself which makes this void.”

Have you noticed, with Simone Weil, how much of your inner life is as predictable as the behavior of a thrown rock? Human nature is like that. Show a guy a cute girl, and it will prompt the same reaction every time. Such are the “natural movements of the soul”; they are predictable and follow laws analogous to those of physics. Psychology is the study of those laws.

But according to Simone Weil there is an exception that she calls “grace.” She thinks that the interior movements of our “soul” are not completely predictable: occasionally, exceptionally something unpredictable enters in! Check it out for yourself. Look inside. Introspect. How many of your emotions and thoughts are really your own? Don’t they seem to link up in predictable ways? Can you find an exception? If there is an exception, where does is come from?

To the philosopher and mystic Simone Weil, who was one of France’s greatest minds in the period 1935 to her death in 1945, such exceptions seem to enter from without. Moreover, they carry with them no power to force their way in. Rather, law-breaking grace can enter our inner life only when there is “a void to receive it.”

The deep quiet that can arise in contemplative practice is an invitation to the void Weil is writing about, but not the void itself. We silence ourselves outwardly and inwardly. Thoughts and feelings that normally run riot inside us gradually subside when we meditate. It can take some time and repeated practice, but we can quiet ourselves so that grace has a chance.

Simone Weil observed herself, her mind or soul. Her observations of her inner life match my own. We both came to them by meditative introspection. We sought inside ourselves carefully and patiently, and came to similar conclusions.

With our physical senses we can examine the vast world around us, but a second and equally amazing world lies within. Science is the study of nature, and contemplative science is the study of the mind. At first encounter, your mind may be more like a jungle than an orderly universe. Meditation offers a way in, a method of calming the chaos and of self-exploration that can lead to what I hold to be the greatest task of being human: to know ourselves truly.

Permit me to end as I do with my students on that first day, by inviting you to join me in a contemplative practice: becoming silent. Sit yourself down, feet flat on the floor, back gently erect, head resting easily, and your hands on your thighs or in your lap. Softly close you eyes, and settle your body, releasing all tension in your arms, legs, neck, back. With each out breath, settle the body still more, so that you are completely relaxed but alert.

Now settle your mind. Thoughts and feeling arise and pass away; these are the natural movements of the soul. Observe them, but see if you can also release them, quieting the mind as you quieted the body. Again, use the breath as a help. Rest your attention on it, feeling the in-breath and out-breath . . . until all your thoughts and feelings become merely a murmur in the background of your mind.

Rest in the stillness and peace that opens up within you. Don’t look for anything; merely experience the profound peace that is available to you, if you can settle mind and body. And in the deepening silence, maybe, just maybe, grace will open up a void in you, and you will awaken to the poetic and divine life that you fell asleep from.

In a KidSpirit PerSpectives article, physics professor Arthur Zajonc inspires us, as students, to become more fully "awake" to our environment through practices of mindfulness.

Making Peace, Becoming Awake

Simi Kishnani

We are all equals, united, and bound so tight

Invincible, victorious, and confident we sing the prayer

Every hum, exact, as we chant the words with each other

Push away the things that fly in front of us,

Or swim up from the things that pull us down

We unify each other, all different, yet all the same

Every step of the way, through thick and through thin

In a KidSpirit poem, teen writer Simi urges us to accomplish great things together in the spirit of solidarity, equality, and interdependence.

Together

Sofiy Inck

Of the excitement of the colors
The reds,
Oranges,
Pinks,
Yellows,

Life is exciting enough.
I don’t need sunrise.

Pressing my fingers against
The cold
Dark night.

It’s shy at first
Peeking it’s head around
The curtain of dark.

The blue that goes on forever,
The blue that breaks hearts
And puzzles intellectuals.
The blue that fills you with so much
Pain and happiness.

In a KidSpirit poem, teen writer Sofiy bucks convention and, as the sun rises, fixes her eyes on the deep blue hues in the west.

Looking West

Brandon Reiter

What is normal?
Is normal fitting in?
Is normal being like everyone else?
Is normal a good thing?
No one person is the same
Yet most people are normal
That’s what makes normal, normal
Does normal really exist?
Is being different normal?
Who decided what normal is?
Someone that wasn’t normal?
If that’s true unordinary is normal
So if most people are normal
Is no one normal?
everyone tries to fit in
cut their hair
pierce their ears
pierce their eyebrows
do drugs
do more drugs
“try this it’ll make you feel great”
but what about the morning?
all this to just be normal?
everyone kills themselves to be this one thing
this one thing we call normal
if there is no normal can we all take a breath?
can we be who we want to be?
can we overthrow normal?

In a KidSpirit poem, teen writer Brandon pleads with us to overthrow the pressure to be normal that often governs the choices we make.

Normal

Rafik Maharjan

Oh! God, send us a messenger of peace and love
Who would change the world.
Rain peace out of the cloudy sky
Then, make a peaceful day out of a storm.

Oh! God, send us a follower of peace and love
Who would remove the fog
Stop violence with peace and love
Then, make the people see a joyful future.

Oh! God, send us a volunteer of peace and love
Who would light the world.
Give us the warmth of the sun in the cold night
Then, open the eyes of the people and bring justice.

In a KidSpirit poem, teen writer Rafik entreats God to send an emissary or avatar into the world to help relieve the pain of war and injustice.

Volunteer

Dakota Williams

I have a dream, that one day little black boys and little black girls will be able to join hands with little white boys and little white girls as sisters and brothers.

And we are two totally different people yet I still see myself in him so I consider us the same being.

The same being put on this world for the same reason.

And even though we are all made in God’s image, we all are yet…

While he is not like she or she is not like he or you not like me nor even us like we.

But you see black is a mixture of many potions.

Even though some may be blind, beauty is in the eye of the beholder.

And not once have I looked over my shoulder,

I look at Dr. King’s dreams slowly unfolding right before me.

But I give much thanks to those who have paved the way for me,

I wouldn’t be able to have shared all that I have with you.

Same how she is yours and you are hers, or vice versa.

To some they see the world in color while others see black and white.

But sad to say, there are some who don’t see life this way.

Let freedom RING amongst the rich and the poor.

Let freedom RING amongst friend and foe .

Cause just like Dr. King I too have a dream.

To make change, I don’t need a million and one friends,

To make change, I don’t need all the money in the world,

To make change, I don’t need to be a conformist and bend what I believe in order to please.

Watch Dakota read his poem on KidSpirit's YouTube channel!

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MO0os6wOEa0

In a KidSpirit poem, teen writer Dakota invokes the powerful rhetoric of Martin Luther King Jr. to rally himself and others to change the world.

Change

Niti Majethia

As you grow older you realize you learn a lot

Some things from books, others things from a shot.

Shot of pain, shot of regret, shot of loneliness

Shot of humor, shot of excitement and happiness.

The word shot means surprise, when pain pinches you

That aching feeling inside you that wants your hope to be alive,

When the day isn’t sunny and life is nothing but strife

Education has no substitute, but my biggest teacher has been experience

Mustering all my courage, I stand strong today when happiness shows absence

Every dead possibility holds a solid moral,

Books will never betray you, but experience walks all along too

Experience teaches you valuable lessons the hard way

In a KidSpirit poem, young writer Niti observes how we often learn keener and more enduring lessons through experience than through the words of a book.

My Teachers

Meenu Ravi

I lie there, rocking back and forth. Below me are the strands of yarn, laced and twined together into harmony to form a hammock.

In the distance are the birds of summer that came to sing. They sit perched up on the sprouting leaves of summer. In the ground, they were spinning and tossing the ribbons of their songs into the air. I have nothing better to do than listen to the music of India’s memories.

A soft warm breeze caresses my skin and ruffles my braids like a thousand feathers embracing my face. I gracefully sit up, as the sand oozes between my toes warming them and feeling as if I had just dipped them into a steamy Jacuzzi. The sun creeps up my bare legs, slowly crawling its way up to my thighs, my waist and my eyes. The rays warm every inch of my skin.

India is the place I can feel the warm breeze on my skin, learn the cultures, and savor the beauty of the country. I think of the holidays I celebrate with my family like Diwali.

My interests lead me to take joy in this country that I love. I enjoy things with my heart, not with words.

India is something I can’t put into words.

I can feel myself slice into the turquoise waters, watching the rays shoot into the depth. I feel the wind snake an invisible arm around my neck.

India is the place where the deep turquoise waters are calm and still, rippling and creating a lullaby of light trickling through the heavens. The sand drips from my fingers when I grasp it. In the background I hear foreign chatter. Language fills the air, fast and fluent in mid- speech. Cultural music winds its ways into my ear, bouncing across the waves.

India is a place where the warm breeze calls my name. Sparrows sparkle in the branches, as do the rays in the sky. A slight aroma of hydrangeas fills the air. As I stand facing the lake, I know this is it. I stand there staring at the water. The rays caress ripples and tango about the river. The sound of the water implants a sense of serenity in me. I shut my eyes.

In a KidSpirit Awesome Moments article, teen writer Meenu distills her relationship with India into a collage of feelings and impressions.

Music of India

Eleanor Goetz

The only color is the yellow and orange of the seats, usually covered up by the half-sleeping commuters, listening to the melody of their lives, tuned to only their station.

Lights flicker above and the windows are dark. The only one who breaks this silence is a screaming baby. A young child looks around, with wide eyes seeing what we saw weeks, months, or years ago, erased by the monotony of the commute. I hear my station playing the sounds of the day ahead wondering whether I am going to be late because this train is moving so slowly. Will I remember all my French vocabulary words for the quiz today. Will there be time to have lunch with my friends? In this car, with our separate thoughts, is a universe at rest, hibernating for only a few more moments.

Then with a screech of the wheels, we begin to climb. Slowly light crowds the car like water breaching a dam, awakening sleepy travelers. Almost at the same time, we raise our heads toward window like sunflowers turning toward the sun, which unites us exchanging short smiles, as if we have known each other for ages.

Seeing the glistening water, mimicking the emotion of the clouds, they are usually a sorrow-filled grey. The awakening sun pours onto the Brooklyn Bridge, reaching its fingers through the cables, making it warmer, sparkling, and magical, gazing up at the ever changing kaleidoscope of beams and cables. Giant buildings look like blades of grass and the people walking beneath them like ants. When the train arrives to the bridge, our imaginations race. Looking down into Chinatown, we wonder what it would be like to be down there among the colorful awnings and signs. The train passes a small gallery of graffiti exclusive only to us. As we descend into the tunnel again, many of us return to our thinking and our electronics but it is different from when we began our journey: we all share the memory of awe from the B train.

Even though many share this event every day, it never gets dull, finding ourselves lifting our heads to enjoy the view as children looking at the world for the first time.

I appreciate this sudden spark of light more because I have been in the damp, dark caves of the subway tunnels.

In a KidSpirit Awesome Moments article, teen writer Elly conjures the moment when a gloomy subway finally breaks into the sunlight as it cross the Brooklyn Bridge.

Unison

Sam Miller

The United States is currently faced with a great educational crisis. With the public school system plummeting, never before has our nation experienced such a fraught issue.

Students are lost in a whirlwind of perplexing teachings and inadequate educational theories. Vicki Abeles’s 2009 film, Race To Nowhere makes an attempt to answer the baffling question of why our system is failing.

Our education system is clearly not working. Students are overwhelmed with extreme stress and other negative side effects of school. According to the Human Development Report, our illiteracy rate (of people over 15) has hit an unbelievable 24%, and students are lacking dedication and commitment. Perhaps the expectations for excellence in the United States are far too low, yet children are granted far more privileges than most cultures. Success appears to be a given, rather than a goal that requires rigorous work to achieve. At the moment, approximately 30% of high school students are dropping out. This shocking statistic is a powerful example of the unacceptable education we are providing our children with.

Abeles decided to create Race to Nowhere after realizing the increasing pressures put on her children from school. “It was kind of a gradual awareness as a parent,” she recalled in a 2011 interview. “I started to see my kids were up late at night doing homework when they were 11 and 12 years old, then one of my daughters developed a physical condition related to the stress.” After speaking to several parents in the community, she began interviewing parents around the country for her first movie. The documentary captures the enormous anxiety and struggle that comes with school and provides a behind the scenes look at the hidden trauma. It profiles several students, interviewing and briefly documenting their school lives. “We see kids in all kinds of communities who are being asked to fit into a box that we define as the successful, high achieving young person," Abeles later commented with displeasure. When the film was finally released in 2009, it was screened in over 1,700 schools across 20 countries, quickly becoming a both controversial and well-known movie.

Race To Nowhere provides many shocking accounts of school life. This includes recollections of sleep deprivation, stress-derived illnesses, and even teen suicides. Yes, these accounts are interesting and horrifying, but they are presented in a way that is completely blown out of proportion. These odd cases are applied to students in general, and the film fails to acknowledge the fact that the vast majority of children are not experiencing these things. Rather than point out that these are isolated cases; the movie seems to become a never-ending sob story of traumatic memories that seems to serve no other purpose than to frighten viewers. Although Race To Nowhere touches on many vital issues, specifically the dangers of excessive homework, the film raises more questions than it answers. No real solution is presented, and it focuses almost entirely on academic troubles.

There are certain topics in Race to Nowhere that should be discussed in a greater detail. Since some topics only make a brief appearance, it leaves the audience confused. A notable example is the introduction of cheating, which is more than a reference, but occupies less than a sensible portion of the film. The fact that a mere 3% of students claim to have never cheated on a test is mentioned, but not evaluated in further detail. This monumental problem is increasing, evident in the 2011 Great Neck scandal, where youth paid great sums of money to cheat on SAT tests.

Perhaps too much negativity has been applied to the film, because in fact it breaks some new ground. The movie exposes a darker side of school, revealing what has been unnoticed for so long. It shows changes must be implemented, and the goal of education must be shifted from memorization to intelligence. Race to Nowhere will hopefully awaken people, yet the uneven production detracts from the viewing experience.

Race To Nowhere certainly isn’t brilliant from a cinematic stance, lacking in both technical and story-telling areas, yet it painfully shows what the future of the United States will look like, unless we make other reforms. If our school system continues to turn out intellectually incompetent people, the United States will fall behind on the worldly education scale even further. The idea of success must be redefined, and we must begin to educationally progress. Perhaps Race to Nowhere can help.

In a KidSpirit Media review, teen writer Sam evaluates "Road to Nowhere," a documentary critical of major problems in the United States school system.

Stealing Childhoods One Student at a Time

Sam Fraley

In The Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian by Sherman Alexie a boy named Junior narrates his experience living on a reservation.

The book starts by explaining some background information about Junior: He has a sister, loves to draw cartoons, plays basketball, and was born with “water in my brain,” so he has to be alert for seizures. The author paints a vivid picture of life on the “rez” (short for reservation), which is portrayed almost as a dead end. Most families don’t have any money, or many hopes for their kids’ future. After a change in events, Junior decides that he doesn’t want to submit to the normal cycle: go to the rez high school with no hope of going to college. He decides he wants to go to a school outside the rez—an all-white school.

One aspect of the book that I really liked is that it is not a very challenging read, making it easier to focus on the material and message. It feels like Junior is talking to you; you can almost hear his voice. There is also an authentic feel to Junior’s dilemma and how he deals with it. The thoughts he has, the events that occur, and his outlook on different situations are written in such a way that it feels as if the author really is Junior. Finally, the book packs a punch emotionally. Junior has to deal with grief, hatred, and prejudice throughout the story, one example being how the relationship with his best friend fluctuates from beginning to end.

The Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian is also an emotionally inspiring book for several reasons. First, Junior’s attitude changes over the course of the story. In the beginning, Junior gives off an almost melancholy vibe, along with a sense of nonchalance. He feels like he has nowhere to go, and will go nowhere, which I think every teenager feels once and awhile. His views about his future change, however. He starts off thinking that he will amount to nothing, that he will end up exactly like his parents, have his own kids, and repeat the cycle. At the end of the book, Junior is still faced with the same struggles as in the beginning, such as poverty and racial tension, but he has a “new take on life.” Even if he doesn’t have the same opportunities as the kids he meets at the all-white school, he still has a chance. Junior feels if he tries his hardest, is focused and has a goal, he will end up okay, even if the road is hard. This is something I think teens can relate to.

School life is another important aspect of the story that also carries weight for some teen readers. The school on the rez is definitely poor, like a dead end. The book depicts some of the teachers and how they seem to share the same tired and sad vibe — a trademark of their experience. Opportunities appear distant, and while Junior is a bright student, he has limited resources so it seems that the chances of going on to a better education from there are slim. On the other hand, the all-white school is completely different. This school has diverse groups of kids, such as the “nerds” and “jocks,” with whom Junior mingles throughout the story. But, even though the kids have more money and a better school, the going-nowhere vibe persists, although in a different tone. Even if these kids seemingly have all the opportunities in the world, they still can make mistakes and miss out on a higher education. And social status is a big issue at the school. Popular kids worry about staying popular, and non-popular kids wish they were the opposite. I think these aspects really hit home with some readers, because of their real-world connection, even if the reader doesn’t go to a school on a reservation, like Junior.

In conclusion, The Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian is a great read for a teenager. There are some issues and content that would not suit younger children. While there is a lot that could still be explored in the characters, the book paints an in-depth portrait of the setting and characters. The author’s language is incredibly smooth and almost conversational. I do wish the book was longer, seeing as there is much more that could be explored about Junior and his future. The book ends at a suspended point, where Junior’s life is still changing and advancing, but you can tell there will be more to his story as time passes. The book ends in the midst of all these things, and this adds a really special effect; it leaves you thinking and wondering “what if?” Only a few books I’ve read ever do this.

In a KidSpirit Media review, teen writer Sam recommends Sherman Alexie's "The Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian," about a Native American boy's life at a mostly-white high school.

Review of The Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian

Vidushi Sharma

“What are we are supposed to get out of school?” I asked one of my closest friends earlier this week. “What’s the point?”

She looked at me for a moment, and then replied, “To produce a person who can form intelligent opinions on world issues, listen to other people’s ideas, and work together with them.”

“If everyone just finds one thing they love learning about, and pursues it…,” I added, “…then it doesn’t matter how ‘smart’ they are,” she finished. “Their interest will take them where they need to go.”

We continued talking about high school, college admissions, and what we would like to see changed in the general education system. I am a tuition-paying student at a public school district outside my town. One of the wealthiest districts in the nation, it is recognized for its excellence. Kids from our high school go to prestigious colleges and top institutions, spending thousands of dollars on their education. But, we wondered, is it worth it? What do students emerge as?

Ironically, this conversation happened in the first floor hallway of my school, as far as possible from the class I was supposed to be in. After informing my mom I had decided to walk out of school early and skip my three afternoon classes to work at home instead. Most of the instances in which I really learn are out of the classroom anyway, I thought, crossing the street on my way home. I didn’t think the benefits of attending class would outweigh getting home early and relaxing or working independently.

On paper my course load looks challenging and engaging, full of the most advanced classes offered to juniors. But most of my day in school bores and frustrates me. I’ve tried everything from writing with my left hand to memorizing Latin vocabulary lists to stay engaged. For someone who loves learning, watching teachers restrict the flow of information to what is covered on tests and standardized assessments is unbearable. Two ends of this spectrum exist: some teachers make their classes more difficult than needed, making students feel deceived and discouraged. On the other end, some teachers make their classes painfully easy, to the point where students take classes for granted and don’t gain anything from the experience.

I’d attribute this to the general structure of education rather than the teachers themselves. I greatly respect all of my teachers and often visit them outside of class just to talk about independent study material, or school life in general. Frustratingly, only a few of them seem to be the same people in class as outside of it. Because of the emphasis on numbers, their delivery of “classroom” information sometimes becomes a one-way stream. Somehow the focus becomes “checking the box” by getting high scores and grades, instead of real learning.

The few assignments in school that really motivate me end up being mainly self-driven. History term papers are the first example I can think of. These papers are self-assigned — students choose their own topics and then have up to 15 blank pages of freedom in which to make something of them. Without anyone dictating what I should be writing about or how I should be formatting paragraphs, I have ended up truly growing, and most importantly thinking, in the process of the writing and researching. For my paper this year I started off with an image of the poet Allen Ginsberg and eventually found myself exploring the roots of the Beat movement. In a few days I made a thrilling realization: independent readings I had been doing on two interests of mine, Existentialist philosophy and Buddhism, connected perfectly with the Beat movement. I know I certainly wasn’t the first to connect Beat counterculture to these two philosophical schools of thought, but what mattered is that I created the links myself without guidance from a textbook or historian. It is impossible to describe how it feels to read and research things with an open mind, and then suddenly see something “click,” and realize the nature of connections between areas of my life and subjects in school that seemed disparate before.

Last summer I was wandering through Vassar College’s Library as part of a sudden detour on a rainy day in upstate New York. The campus was hauntingly quiet, with one sole librarian on call and only a few straggling students walking past the buildings undergoing restorations. I lost myself within the stone walls and staircases wondering what real students felt like. Did they have the time to pull out a book at random and explore topics of their interest? How is their learning experience different from mine? After crossing a few aisles, I discovered a stack of catalogues as well as a bin full of free copies of the book Clueless in Academe: How Schooling Obscures the Life of the Mind. It was the subtitle that caught my eye. I am all too familiar with the feeling that classes are restricting my potential to learn and “obscuring the life of my mind.” My only escape is to pursue learning in other ways outside of class.

Furthering a love of learning in students is the most important quality for education at any level. It’s universal — applicable to both an elementary school student studying fractions and a college graduate involved with higher level research. People need to find a passion for something to make their education worthwhile and applicable to areas beyond school walls.

Each teacher I’ve had has changed my life in some way, but most of this is because of independent interaction instead of what happens in the classroom. Students who don’t seek teachers out on their own miss out on experiences that aren’t yet part of the classroom setting. My sophomore year English teacher still helps me pursue literature by giving me access to the deliciously innocuous book room, where old and unused classroom books have been stored for years. Easily mistaken for a narrow janitorial closet, it is crammed to the ceiling with books in dangerously tilting shelves, tossed into stacked boxes, scattered on desks and footstools. By randomly picking up dusty classics that I might not have encountered otherwise, I’ve gained a new appreciation for literary genres and periods.

Similar situations apply to my other classes. My friend and I have started independently reviewing philosophy with a teacher we sought out just this week. I have been part of a small poetry circle, facilitated by my Latin teacher, in which we read texts that the class doesn’t cover. Her love for the language is infectious and unparalleled, combining creative discussion with academic stimulation. My math teacher, one of the most challenging yet respected teachers in school, acts as a mentor and friend to students; he is always available and has created YouTube videos for class and an interactive discussion setup via Google groups. Math is a subject that has never come as naturally to me as any of the arts, which makes working towards gaining a real understanding of it all the more rewarding. My teacher clearly puts in countless independent hours finding the right materials and methods for students to push and motivate themselves as far as they can. In any subject area it’s clear when teachers genuinely love what they teach, and want to help their students capture the same rush of discovery upon uncovering new ideas.

Gerald Graff in Clueless in Academe writes that people “…fail to see that talk about books and subjects is as important educationally as are the books and subjects themselves.” In order for kids to love learning their teachers have to push them to start thinking and talking about material instead of memorizing it for the short-term. For education to be worthwhile and knowledge to last beyond the “next test,” the individual interactions I have with teachers need to extend into the classroom. This requires some trust on the behalf of teachers — belief in the ability of students to succeed without strictly structured outlines, but also courage on the part of students, who have to take paths that are less clear and require more thinking. It is impossible not to acknowledge that everyone has different learning styles; for some my ideal independent study methods would not be optimal or even desirable. As someone who has felt restricted rather than pushed by most classroom learning during my lifetime, I can only speak from my own experience. Others who have had different backgrounds may function best in ordered environments with predictable work assignments and study schedules. But whether a student prefers a more self-driven and pliable learning experience or a numbered and structured one, finding a love and happiness of learning should be the foremost goal.

With enough routine practice and hard work most kids can earn good enough grades in school. But only a few of them can find the fulfillment in education that my friend and I discussed earlier — the ability to form intelligent opinions and work with others. Along with giving us facts and problem-solving methods, education needs to give us the passion to take these things to different levels and the confidence to present our ideas to others. And with a shift away from making school a numbers game and a little freedom of thought given to students, it is possible.

In a KidSpirit Big Question response, teen writer Vidushi argues that the goal of educators should be to instill a lifelong sense of curiosity, rather than a sterile assortment of facts.

What Is the Most Important Quality of Education?

Caie Kelley

“FWD: Read this, story of our lives?”

Several months ago, my cousin emailed me a Wall Street Journal article entitled, “Why Chinese Mothers Are Superior.” Intrigued, I clicked the link, and read a pre-publication of Yale law professor Amy Chua’s book Battle Hymn of The Tiger Mother, which chronicled her parenting techniques. Her ideas were clear: strict values and harsh discipline allowed her, as a Chinese mother, to raise successful children.

I’m not going to lie. I know that her account of forcing her daughter to practice hours of piano, forbidding sleepovers and computer games, and requiring only A’s shocked millions. However, her story seemed, to me, pretty normal. I was also raised by a Chinese mother. Like Chua’s daughters, I’ve never been in a school play, I’ve been learning piano since I was five years old, and I’ve never owned a computer game. I didn’t have sleepovers and play dates until middle school, and I still can’t have them on weekdays. Receiving all A’s is a given and on Saturday mornings, while my friends headed to soccer games or watched late morning cartoons, I was at Chinese school.

Don’t get me wrong. Even my own strict mother can see the flaws in some of Chua’s extreme methods. But her ideas, as hard as it may be for some to admit, have truth. In one passage, Chua writes, “What Chinese parents understand is that nothing is fun until you’re good at it. Tenacious practice, practice, practice is crucial for excellence.” From the time I began studying piano at age five through the seventh grade, I hated it. I hated the endless drills and repetition, the pure torture of playing a single passage over and over again and never getting it right. I hated the pressure of the competitions. Waking up early on a Saturday morning, dressing in a nerdy suit and competing against other Asians throughout the day is hardly anyone’s idea of fun. I wanted to quit, but I wasn’t allowed to. Instead, I was condemned to more hours of practice. Today, though, I love the piano. I love coming home after a stressful day and playing a familiar tune. I love that when I hear a song on the radio I can transfer it into live music.

What changed my attitude? It was a Tuesday, after school. I knew my mom was going to force me to practice piano anyway, so I decided to spare the yelling and practice as soon as I came home. I know now that my mother’s demands were for my own good, but I didn’t then, and we often fought over my efforts at the piano. Back then, my mother’s words were a constant reminder that I would never be good enough to reach her impossible standards. That day, though, was a little different. Instead of going straight to scales, I messed around, picking out melodies from random notes. Eventually, I hit upon something that sounded familiar: the chorus of “Piano Man,” where Billy Joel plays, “sing us a song, you’re the piano man, sing us a song tonight. Well, we’re all in the mood for a melody, and you’ve got us all feelin’ all right.” It was a favorite of my dad’s. I have no idea why it took me so long, but I think that at that moment I realized that I could play any type of music I wanted. Not just the classical pieces my teacher assigned, but the kind of music I put on my iPod and wanted to listen to on repeat. After years of practice, I had finally gained the skills to convert what I heard into what I played. I ran to the computer, typing in the scores of my favorite movies. I could sight read the pieces with ease, amusing myself with popular songs. I felt, for the first time, that I was good at playing the piano, and I loved it.

The same has been true for many other activities. I hated swimming, but wasn’t allowed to quit. After six years of unfruitful labor, I received a qualifying Junior Olympics time. Finding success after years of hard work was a rewarding experience, and helped me learn to appreciate the sport. Today, I look forward to practice. Of course, I don’t always succeed. However, even when swim races or piano performances don’t go my way, the knowledge that I have put my best effort into the task still provides a sense of internal fulfillment. When Chua writes about encouraging hard work and pushing for “nothing but the best,” she is definitely onto something. But her methods are far from perfect.

In one scene, Chua recounts rejecting her daughter’s messy birthday card because she felt she deserved better. Such harsh words, along with insults like “you’re garbage,” can hardly have had a positive effect. Do all Chinese parents, as Chua claims, really use those words?

One of my mother’s friends has raised her son, who’s my age, in a similar way. She sets high standards, forbids television, and expects her children to attend Ivy League colleges. However, when I asked her if she would ever call her children “trash,” she looked shocked.

“There’s a difference between striving for excellence through difficult demands and hurling insults when your kids make mistakes. I strive to find a healthy balance. I want my kids to succeed, and I hope by exposing them to hard work at a young age, they will have the tools to do so. Being mean won’t help me achieve that goal.” My Chinese aunt, whose son attended an elite university, had a similar response.

Though it is true that many Chinese American mothers encourage hard work and support strict upbringings, so do many immigrant mothers. Raising kids who are creative and who appreciate sports does not have to conflict with the idea of a child who succeeds in school. I may not be completely comfortable with all my mother’s high expectations, but I will admit how valuable the lessons about hard work and persistence were to my own successes. All parents want to raise their children properly, and “Tiger Moms” simply believe that an important aspect of that is exposing their children to hardships from an early age.

Something can be learned from stereotypical “Chinese” methods. At the same time, there is also merit to “Western upbringing.” The best path may lie somewhere in between the two extremes. Instead of focusing on the problems with Chua’s methods, I believe we can utilize the best of each culture. Sometimes I wish my mother gave me more freedom to make my own decisions and to explore potentially “unsuccessful” endeavors. Sometimes I wonder if her strict methods stifled my creativity. Ultimately, I believe the best parent will allow his or her child to make some decisions alone, and to wander in the “wrong” direction, as my mother says. As kids, we need to make some choices for ourselves, in order to gain independence and free-thinking minds. At the same time, encouraging hard work and persistence are incredibly important. Such a balance will be difficult to achieve. With hard work, creative inspiration, and careful calculations, however, we should be able to do just that.

In a KidSpirit Feature article, teen writer Caie expresses a deep appreciation for her Chinese-American mother's disciplined but compassionate parenting style.

Notes From a Tiger Daughter

Akash Mehta

Last September, my mother told me that we would have an Afghan girl, Nilab Nusrat, staying in our house for a few months.

My mother is the founder and board-member of a 10-year-old organization called Women for Afghan Women. WAW works to secure and advance Afghan women and children’s human rights. In addition to many other programs (see sidebar below), WAW also runs three Children’s Support Centers for children whose mothers are in jail. In Afghanistan, when mothers go to jail, the children go with them if no family member is willing to take them. The jails are awful places for the children, and without education, so WAW tries to get these children out of the jails and into the support centers, where they not only have a home and access to education, but also have a loving and supporting community and access to many programs. Because these children have spent long periods of time without education, WAW focuses on tutoring them so that they can get into good schools where they will do well. They have excellent tutors, and nearly all the children from the shelters are among the top of their classes. Nilab is one of these children.

Nilab was born in Kabul, the capital of Afghanistan, and lived there all her life, except for a brief stay in Pakistan. For the first part of her childhood, she had a pretty great life. She had gone to school, loved her parents and siblings, and had many friends. And then, when she was 11 — just 6 years ago — her father, for reasons she isn’t comfortable with sharing with the press, set himself on fire, right in front of Nilab’s eyes.

Needless to say, this was incredibly traumatic. But her misfortune did not end there. Three months later, her mother, who had little income and was raising three kids by herself, was arrested for kidnapping children for ransom. Nilab’s mother was sent to jail. While her two younger siblings went to live with their paternal grandfather, Nilab was thrown in jail with her mother.

The next six months were, according to Nilab, the worst time of her life. The prison was a terrible environment where the children were told that they were worthless and were treated like animals. Nilab was depressed and grieving — her life had taken such a significant turn for the worse in the last few months. She had been wrenched out of her old, comfortable lifestyle and thrust into sheer hell. She had seen her father commit suicide. Her siblings had been taken away and she missed them dearly. She was put into a cold and hostile environment, and had little hope of getting out before she was 18. In her words, it was like “a long and dark tunnel with no sign of the other end.”

Six months after Nilab moved to the prison, WAW staff came to talk with the prison authorities and the inmates about the newly opening Children’s Support Center. When Nilab heard that there was a way for her to leave the prison, she demanded that her mother allow her to go. Her mother, seeing how miserable Nilab was, agreed.

Another six months passed before the CSC opened, but Nilab wanted to leave the prison immediately. WAW was able to make an exception and take Nilab into one of their women’s shelters so that she could be cared for there until the CSC was opened. Her time in the women’s shelter was relatively happy, but there was one pressing worry that she had: what had become of her siblings? Nilab hadn’t had any contact with them since the moment she had entered the prison. WAW staff tracked down Nilab’s grandfather and found and talked to Nilab’s siblings. The two kids were not allowed to go to school and were being treated like house slaves. WAW lawyers fought in the court and convinced the judge that the kids were better off in the CSC than with their grandfather. Therefore, when the CSC opened, Nilab and her siblings were reunited. In no time, all three kids were in school again, doing well, making lots of friends, and getting over their individual traumas.

After some time, Nilab’s mother got released from prison. She went to live with her sister. However, once she was out of the prison, there was a problem: the CSC was a place for children whose mothers were in jail. And so technically, WAW was supposed to send the children back to their mother. But Nilab and her siblings wanted to stay in the CSC. If they left the CSC, it would be hard for Nilab’s mother to continue giving them a good education. Nilab’s mother and WAW decided that it was best to make another exception and keep the children at the Center.

WAW’s 10-year anniversary Gala was approaching. They were planning to bring a girl from the CSC to speak at the event in New York City. Nilab was known to be a confident speaker with a touching story who also was near fluent in English, and so she was chosen. My mother and stepfather volunteered to house Nilab for however many months she’d be in the city. And amazingly, a few months later, she was at my house!

During her stay with us, Nilab seemed like she was a member of our family. She fit in perfectly. All throughout, I kept reminding myself that this was a girl who had so recently gone gone through horrors that I couldn’t even begin to understand. For the most part, she seemed perfectly fine, like any other girl. She was a devout Muslim, and it was a common sight in the house to see her running up the stairs to pray. She had her own little eccentricities and often had us all laughing: she sometimes tried to get all five of her prayers done in one go; she loved to watch Hindi movies on the iPad; and she was firmly against the prospect of ever getting married. One evening, she and I had a conversation about marriage. She told me that she could never fully trust a man enough to marry him, that “bad things” could always happen. Considering she comes from a culture where husbands are often abusive, cruel, and unloving towards their wives, this is a reasonable position for her to have. I said, “But what about happy couples? So many marriages are incredibly happy. Like my mom’s, for instance. Doesn’t she seem happy and independent?” She couldn’t believe that she’d ever find someone that was right for her.

My brother and I, on separate occasions, took her to our school — a liberal, private school populated by wealthy students. She dismissed my math class as easy, and she told me that what we were doing in science class, she had covered the year before. My brother took her to sleep over at Zuccotti Park, to support Occupy Wall Street, and my stepfather taught her how to ride a bike. In spite of her outwardly positive attitude there were clear signals that she was, deep in her heart, grieving: when she first saw my four-year-old little brother, she burst into tears because she missed her own siblings so much. But she was able to carry her head high and move on with life, with a strong mind and a strong spirit.

The night of the Gala was an incredible success. Nilab had the final speech of the night, and she recounted her life story. Her speech was powerful and blew everyone away; she received the only standing ovation.

The question was, what would happen to her next? Would she go back to Afghanistan, to the CSC? Considering that her mother wasn’t in prison, it was an awkward situation for WAW. The answer came through an Afghan boy named Assad. My older brother’s friend Ariel used to go to a boarding school in Vermont called Putney. Once when Ariel came to stay my family for a vacation, he asked if he could bring a new friend along. That friend was Assad, a boy from Bamiyan, Afghanistan, who was a scholarship student at Putney. My parents, of course, said he could stay at our house. One evening, Assad told us his whole story over dinner. He and my parents got along well, and stayed in touch.

Remembering Assad’s scholarship at Putney, my mom asked Nilab if she’d like to try and also get a scholarship to go to school in America. She put Nilab in touch with Assad, and asked Assad to get Nilab an interview at Purney. Also, Sarah, the woman who visited the WAW shelter and met Nilab years before, was contacting other schools. Sarah offered to sponsor Nilab to stay in the United States and attend school.

Nilab’s future was transforming before our very eyes. Not only did she now have a generous sponsor who was willing to pay her expenses and care for her if she got accepted into an American school, but Assad did manage to get Nilab an interview at Putney. Characteristically, Nilab managed to impress all the people she met at Putney, and at the end of her interview she was offered a full scholarship for her three remaining years of high school. Later that day, the entire school sang the Afghan national anthem for her.

This story has just begun. Just a few years ago, Nilab was living in prison, with her father’s suicide hanging over her, and her future bleak. Now, she’s taking piano and figure-drawing classes at one of the top boarding schools in the world. She is such an amazing and powerful girl. Who knows what challenges she’ll face? All I know is that she is strong enough to deal with them.

Nilab’s ambition and determination existed long before all this happened to her; years before her father died, as an eight-year-old girl, she independently changed her name to “Nusrat,” meaning “Victory.” And she truly is a victor.

In a KidSpirit Feature article, teen writer Akash relates the story of Nilab, an Afghani girl who secured a spot at an American boarding school after escaping imprisonment with her mother.

Victory

Khalid Husain

“Children are 25 percent of the population but 100 percent of the future. If we wish to renew society, we must raise up a generation of children who have strong moral character. And if we wish to do that, we have two responsibilities: first, to model good character in our own lives, and second, to intentionally foster character development in our young.”

This quote from the introduction of Thomas Lickona’s book, Character Matters, illustrates both the importance of character education and a possible way of teaching it. In its essence, character education is the teaching of basic morals, values, and principles which will guide people toward an ethical, well-behaved, healthy, and successful path.

Character education is important across all cultures, though the approaches might vary due to history and emphasis on different values. For example, Western character education draws upon Greek philosophers like Aristotle and Plato. Aristotle’s belief was that moderation is key in all matters of life. He emphasized reasoning to make moral choices. Similar to Aristotle, Plato placed logical reasoning as a foundation of good character; he believed that in order to be virtuous, moral human beings, we have to use reasoning to control our desires. Early Greek philosophers also taught that good character reflected independent decision making. Confucius, a central figure in Eastern thought, also emphasized reasoning and careful internal study and meditation in order to make moral choices. Eastern culture also emphasizes the value of a good teacher and following instructions, and posits the need to control desires in order to prevent disobedience, rebellion, and deceit.

This historical and philosophical interest in character development has been revived in a recent movement for character education. There are now a multitude of character education programs being implemented in schools all across the United States, including Character Counts! and the Center for the 4th and 5th Rs, among others. The article, “What if the Secret to Success is Failure?” written by Paul Tough and published in the New York Times, highlighted how educators are beginning to understand that strength of character, including the ability to deal with failure and stress, is important to academic success, just as much, if not more than grades.

I went to a religious private school and when I was in sixth and seventh grade, we wrote essays on different values like courage, gratitude, compassion, and goal setting. In addition, there were posters in all the classrooms and hallways, highlighting different morals. This addition to the curriculum was introduced to my school by my own grandmother, who worked with the principal and teachers. However, critical writing and posters are only two of many techniques used to teach morals to children all across the U.S. Others include ‘praise and reward,’ ‘define and drill,’ and ‘forced formality.’ The ‘praise and reward’ method tries to make virtue into habit through positive reinforcement — if students are ‘caught’ actively being good, they are rewarded with a treat or privilege. The ‘define and drill’ approach revolves around having pupils memorize values and their respective definitions, promoting true understanding of the values. ‘Forced formality’ is a practice which focuses on compliance with specific rules of conduct in order to promote order or respect of adults.

While in principle it might be important to teach character, one might ask, “Is it effective? What is it good for? Does it ultimately help academic performance?” As you might guess, people hold opposing viewpoints on those questions. As there is no way to determine the causal impact of character education, groups which advocate for it instead use correlations between the implementation of a program and something like grades or graduation rate. The Character Counts! initiative reports that in Downey, California, “High school graduation rates have been over 92% since Character Counts! implementation… compared to the statewide graduation rate of 68.3%.”

In 2010, a large study conducted by the U.S. Department of Education collected data on student success rates, teacher ratings of students, interviews, and surveys, just to name a few, in order to find out if character education truly provided enough conclusive evidence to be accepted. The study concluded that “in sum, the SACD (Social and Character Development) multiprogram evaluation provides no evidence that the seven universal, schoolwide programs improved students’ social and character development.”

One problem I see is that character education programs seem to be founded upon the belief that character in children or young adults is deficient and needs to be ‘corrected’ or ‘properly taught.’ Also, in character education programs, it is easy to blur the lines between true morality and social conformity. The major argument against character education is the fact that there are so many organizations involved with it and they all present different methods of going about it such that you have viewpoints or instructions that contradict each other.

Since it is difficult to measure the causal impact, and experts seem to disagree, we can say that the jury is still out on whether or not character education has passed the test. There are many reasons why we feel teaching ‘proper’ morals to our children is necessary. Without the right ideals, how will they grow up into responsible and successful people? However, it is very possible that by teaching younger generations our moral beliefs, which we understand as ‘proper’ and ‘right,’ we are restricting their independent thinking and reinforcing conformity. If it’s so hard to teach morals clearly and if there is no clear statistical evidence backing them up, should we really support character education programs and all they entail?

In a KidSpirit Feature article, teen writer Khalid offers an insightful critique of the questionable assumptions involved in classroom-based attempts to instill children with certain values.

The Big Question

More Stories

Poetry

PerSpectives

Like what you're reading?