the art of understanding a child

Hi Andrew and Amy, 

     I just wanted to check in with you to see if there is anything going on with Elliott lately. He has been making a lot of faces and needing to put things in his mouth. He is chewing on gloves, hats, his shirt sleeves, licking his hand and tissues. It is very difficult to get him to focus on any work as well. I have been doing a lot of assessing this past week and he had difficulty remembering his letter sounds. Let me know if you have any insights... 

(e-mail from Elliott's teacher 11/13/13)

Recently I taught an art class to a bunch of first graders. The assignment was to paint like Michelangelo. I had already taught the lesson to fourth graders, third graders and second graders and it had been a fairly successful project. But I was skeptical about how well six year olds would manage the logistics of the task. Especially Elliott.

The directions went something like this: Put on a smock. Select six paint colors. Take them to a designated spot at one of the tables, where there would be a paint brush, a dish of water and some paper towels. Put one paint color on your brush, then carefully lie down on your back and slide under the table. Find a line drawing taped to the bottom of the table and start painting. When your brush is dry, carefully come out from under the table, stand up and get more paint. To change colors, get your brush wet and wipe it on a paper towel. Try not to get paint all over everything, especially yourself.

With the level of planning, precision and caution required, I didn’t expect much from anyone. Especially Elliott.

The first grade group was the largest one yet. Since I was preoccupied for much of the class time repeating instructions, wiping spills, refilling paint dishes and redirecting the lost and confused, I paid very little attention to Elliott. He took his paints straight to a spot at a table and slid under. He never asked for help. I had no idea what he was doing.

Toward the end of the 20-minute painting time, I checked in on him. I squatted down and peeked at his painting. I held back my tears.

“I did it, Mom,” he smiled proudly.

After regularly receiving reports from teachers like the one that came in yesterday’s e-mail, I never expected to see what my son had accomplished in less than 20 minutes with no direction or help whatsoever. If I hadn’t seen it myself, I wouldn’t have believed it.

Lying on the floor, painting on a paper taped to the underside of a table, my six-year-old experiences movement, novelty, inspiration, expression. He is fully engaged and motivated. Sitting at a desk, staring at a black-and-white print out, he experiences tedium, frustration, confusion, fatigue. He is fully bored and lost. Unfortunately, my kid just can’t learn in scenario two. He’d rather lick tissues.

When it comes to public school education and traditional assessments, I don’t know how to change things to help my child succeed, but I do know this. My kid is no dummy. He’s not ADD or retarded or difficult. He’s simply uninspired. Please, dear educators, find a way to understand the difference.