Thursday, January 3, 2013

The 'Smart' vs. 'Capable' Perspective


Almost every day, for one reason or another, I reach back to my childhood and find myself grateful for my parents' innate ability to foster what I now think of as 'perspective,' or the healthy ability to be both confident in my success and humbled by the lack of it.

Sometimes, my recollection is something funny.  I might trip on a crack in the sidewalk in front of MLT and hear my father's voice in my ear, "There goes 'Grace' again."  He never said, "Don't be so clumsy," which would have been denigrating; but he didn't blame the sidewalk, either.  He laughed a lot when we were kids, but never at us... unless, we were being ridiculous! 

Sometimes, the recollection is much more practical; and thus, when I'm fielding a complaint or a working through a difficult report I end up with his sayings running through my head: messages like "Don't judge, until you've walked a mile in that person's shoes," or "If you quit, who's going to finish for you?"

When I was child, my father might ask me to hold a flashlight for him under the kitchen sink, but I knew what that request really meant... it meant lots of questions about what I saw him doing: "What if I turn this...?"  "What do you think is holding this in place?" "Why might we try to ...?"

All of this was about 'growth' and 'becoming more capable,' which intrigued me as I read "Fostering a 'Growth' Mindset in Students," in Principal Leadership, by Douglas Fisher and Nancy Frey.  In this article, the authors discuss the importance of helping students to develop what they call 'personal narratives' or belief statements about who they are.  The authors state that, "one crucial aspect is helping students move from a fixed mindset to a growth mindset."  They go on to describe students with a fixed mindset as those kids who believe their personal 'smartness' was fixed at birth and, therefore, they must keep proving they are smart to others.   On the other hand, students who have a growth mindset believe their basic qualities can be continuously cultivated through effort and persistence.

I think it's obvious which lifestyle approach will serve our kids, their parents, and our society at large the best.  Especially as we move into the 21st Century economy, we need young people who believe "I can learn anything if I put in the effort."  It can't be about getting the answer the quickest, ("I'm smart!"); because, when when the answer doesn't come easily, but takes time, concentration, and effort, which it will in our contemporary world, our kids will need persistence

"Praise for being 'smart' leads kids to believe that learning should be easy – and if it feels difficult, then they’re not smart.  On the other hand, praise for focusing and sticking with a task fosters a much more positive mindset – you can 'get smart' through effective effort.

I remember reading a study done at Brown University, and I think it was Varton Gregorian who quoted it.  In the study, elementary school students were given a multiple-choice math problem that went something like this: "The Army wants to move 729 soldiers.  If each bus holds 65 soldiers, how many buses will the Army need?"  The 'smarter' the kids, the more likely they were to choose '11.22' as their answer.  In other words, 11.22, which carried the answer out to the hundredth decimal place, seemed more correct to them than 12.  Yet, there is no such thing as .22 of a bus. 

So, how do we foster 'capable growth' rather than reverence for 'being smart.' Fisher and Frey tell us that when parents and teachers compliment children in a way in which children see their own roles in the accomplishment, they will begin to see that their effort allowed them to meet their goals."  Just as my father did, under the kitchen sink, with a wrench in his hand: "Huh, you figured that out, did you?  Feels good doesn't it?"
 
Growing up, my successes were my own, not my parents.  In their eyes, I wasn't born either smart or lucky.  My actions led to the results, whether good or bad.   They were very interested in my effort, always wanting to know how I accomplished something, what I might do differently next time, and how my success felt.