Rousseau and Me

In the 18^th century the French philosopher Jean Jacques Rousseau wrote a tome he entitled Emile.   The purpose of this treatise was to propose developmental criteria for child rearing among the privileged class.   As a product of the enlightenment, the criteria established in Emile was interpreted by scholars as a framework for curricula deemed appropriate at different stages of a child’s intellectual development.  At first blush, this seems logical.  As the brain grows with the child, the capacity for learning logically increases.  Therefore, the child’s capacity for complexity improves as the child gets older.  Addition and subtraction in the early years, later multiplication and division, algebra, geometry, calculus etc., follow this line of thinking.  For centuries, the brain of a child was considered an empty vessel, “tabula rasa” or blank slate.  According to Rousseau, if you time concepts and activities correctly, a logical intellectual mind will develop properly prepared to contribute in adulthood. 

As logical as this all seems, the developmental presumption of Rousseau ignores significant influences on intellectual awareness.   First, the genetic equation that results in each of our brains impacts our capacity for types and breadth of learning.     Second, the social and physical environment influences decisions that impact learning priorities.  Rousseau’s prescription was appropriate for a child of privilege in the enlightenment and has proven to be effective for many children of means today.   A child from poverty, a working class family or a dysfunctional home does not have the luxury of such upbringing.  There are outliers that say a powerful intellect can overcome underprivileged status, Maya Angelou comes to mind, but those are rare circumstances.

It is now 2015 and we know a great deal more about the brain, psychology and sociology than was not understood during the Enlightenment.   However, we continue to make decisions in education based on the fundamental assumptions espoused by Rousseau.   The brain changes, almost fundamentally, every time we encounter stimuli.   Those stimuli can impede intellectual understanding just as it can expand knowledge.   I learned as a principal of a school with self-contained hearing impaired classes, that the brain quickly leaves senses not available, such as hearing, to find other avenues for survival.  This often results in barriers for language development.  Yet, we continue to develop curricula that prescribe certain learning at specific ages no matter the capacity or experience of the individual child.   If a child is not reading at six, it must be the instruction or there is “something wrong” with the child.  Simply changing instructional strategies should correct the problem.  Right? 

No.  Learning is not a series of prescribed steps.  There is no owner’s manual.  What works for one may not work for others.    We are beginning to act on this in the public schools, but all are not convinced.   The challenge is now to move from a systemic developmental model to one that addresses each child individually.  What we do know is that a strict developmental model leads to a focus on compliance and ignores the impact of individual experience on learning.   It has resulted in schools that serve a narrow group of students and pushes the others on or out.  If we are to make significant strides with all students we need to drastically adjust the formula.  Science has shown us that “tabula rasa” does not apply to children.   They are pre-wired with immense potential, too often untapped.  

I had numerous experiences that enhanced my intellectual curiosity, potential and capacity.   In grades kindergarten through twelve I matriculated through a public school system that was changing due to the Civil Rights movement and the attempts to integrate public schools.  I then attended a challenging private liberal arts college where I had to work hard to be an average student.   Over most of the past 3 decades I assumed that I learned my social skills in my K-12 years and honed my intellectual skills in college.  Since college I have earned two masters where my GPA was significantly better than as an undergraduate.  I attributed this to my “learning how to learn” while being challenged at a heightened intellectual level in college.  In other words, I learned how to study.  

Upon reflection, the supposition that intellectual growth requires structured study, or instruction, is not accurate.   The social and community experiences I had in high school have just as much to do with my success as an educator and a thinker as does the content I learned in college.  I simply believed that the high school curriculum was a disservice to my performance as a college student, because I was not challenged academically and; therefore, not ready to excel as an undergraduate.  However, the experiences I had with a changing school community has had just as much impact on my professional success as an educator as did my improved study habits enforced during college.

Growing up, I spent most of my after school time playing with friends and exploring the woods surrounding my house.   I typically finished homework before I got home each day.  I would frequently engage in all manner of discussions with friends whom I considered superior to me intellectually.   My family would typically spend a month in the summer in a simple 3 bedroom river house in eastern North Carolina where I would swim, fish and explore. The years we only spent two weeks at the river, we would travel and camp at various destinations in the northern hemisphere.  I was fortunate to be able to accompany my parents and little sister to England and France to tour medieval cathedrals, chateaus and cities.   These experiences coincided with a passion for drawing and painting that allowed me to explore the things around me visually. 

I have learned that the experiences I have had beyond school curricula have had as profound an impact, if not greater, on my intellectual development.   The experiences I faced during busing, the time for free play and exploration, along with the ongoing discussions with friends and family fueled an intellectual curiosity that presupposes inquiry.  The order in which we read particular books or learned specific mathematical formulas did not drive my ideas or passion.  It was the proximity to stimuli that challenged the mind and forced me to change my mindset countless times.   Rousseau’s effort to plan or program particular experiences took individual perspective for granted.  

Empathy is not merely a psycho-social skill.  It is a perspective that enhances intellectual growth.  It is learned primarily through experience, not study.   Empathy allows us to make decisions that incorporate other perspectives, therefore enhancing the possibility of success on particular initiatives.  We often find ourselves on the wrong side of decisions because our empathetic capacity did not influence the nuance for social action.  There is significant literature about the successful leaders having “super-empathy”.   What we know about circumstances not only influences, but directs our intellectual interpretation.  In Emile, Rousseau writes from the perspective of a philosophical courtier who delved in the societal and experiential aspects of nobility.  He knew what was required to excel in such an environment.   Developing a public school system that enhances opportunity for all students requires that all educators seek to empathize with our constituents.