Growth for All

I half-jokingly mention to people that I am the sole caretaker of a number of at-risk houseplants. It’s pretty much true, though. Despite my attempts to foster the growth of the specimens under my care, most of the vegetation in my home exhibits at least one undesirable trait. My aloe has stopped growing. The peace lily hasn’t bloomed in years. The two remaining leaves of the once-vibrant snake plant seem healthy but lonely. The philodendron drops yellowed foliage periodically. The zeezee plant (yes, the one that Better Homes and Gardens says is “so easy it’s almost a challenge to kill”) is proving that I’m exceptionally bad at plant life support. And the unidentified plant I grew from a cutting my neighbor gave me is now so tall and gangly that it constantly requires cutting back and propping up.

I’ve read all about plant care, and I have come to a conclusion. I’m overfertilizing some, underfertilizing others. Some are too wet; others, too dry. A few could benefit from repotting. Two need to be moved to a sunnier window. One needs to be left alone. And one will be just fine if I find something for it to climb on.

It occurred to me (in my never-ending quest for educational metaphors) that my plant E.R. is a lot like a classroom. Like my houseplants, every student has needs that must be met in order for each one to grow. Some could use a little boost of fertilizer or root stimulant (I might call that motivation). Others require supports and scaffolds. A few would benefit from some pruning or redirection. Many should receive more care from me, but some are stifled by excessive attention and need to be left to their own devices.

In every case, plants and students grow more successfully when you get to know each one individually and meet each one’s needs. Plants allegedly like to be talked to; so do students, especially when the talk shows that you see them as people, not just as part of a collective whole.

Plants and students all deserve to experience at least a year’s worth of growth in a year. Tending to one segment of the population and extending that same treatment to all will ensure that only one segment grows.

A grave danger exists in schools when educators create a single deficit narrative and apply it to all their students. “My students can’t or won’t  ______.”  Fill in the blank with whatever you want: read, write, solve problems, do homework, think critically, pass the state test, study, pay attention, etc. What sometimes happens is that we craft a deficit narrative, apply it to all our students (even though in reality it only relates to a portion), and then prescribe a treatment for all according to that narrative. In effect, we put leg braces on every student even though only a few need to wear them.

When a houseplant appears healthy but has stopped growing, chances are it is root bound. The roots have reached the capacity of the pot and have nowhere to expand. The only way to get the plant to grow is to transplant it into a larger pot.

At times, the one-size-fits-all approach to classroom instruction leaves the most able learners root bound. By teaching to the lowest common denominator, we limit the growth of students who could thrive if given the room to expand the scope of their learning.

I’m going to work on getting better acquainted with my plants. I need to stop trying to diagnose them as one big, problematic group and instead get to know each one and give it what it needs. I’m also going to encourage teachers, administrators, and others who work with students to do the same. It would be nice if one solution fixed every problem, but the world is more complex than that, whether we are talking of plants or pupils. Let’s give all a chance to grow.