Energetic. Enthusiastic. Hyperactive.
Uncontrollable. Impulsive. Eager. Rambunctious. Vibrant. Wiggly.
Kinesthetic. Athletic. Rowdy. Unfocused.
Curious. Questioning. Challenging. Defiant.
Inquisitive. Searching. Intrigued. Intrusive. Disrespectful. Interested.
Complaining.
Chatty. Talkative. Verbal. Charismatic. Mouthy.
Communicative. Motor-mouthed. Conversational. Social. Gregarious. Interactional.
Unreserved. Rude.
Everyone has a series of lenses through which
they view the world. We see what we want to see. We identify good in the things
we value or that match our own viewpoints, preferences, and experiences. We
frequently overlook the positive in what is unfamiliar, is different, or
challenges our own ideas and views. What one person sees as a negative could be
viewed as a positive by someone else.
Does society place the same value on an
assertive man and an assertive woman? Do some groups of people receive praise
for questioning or challenging authority while others are criticized for it? Do
you look differently at a person who speaks passionately about political ideas
you agree with while disparaging those who oppose your stance?
I worry that as educators we allow ourselves to
get in the way of seeing the potential in every student we teach. Worse, we
find fault in places where we could be looking for greatness. What if we could
train ourselves to look for potential in spots where we previously ignored it?
What impact could that have on the kids we teach and how they view themselves?
I am not a confrontational person. I tend to
avoid conflict, hate engaging in an argument, and am more likely to back away
from any kind of disagreement until I am able to speak calmly. Furthermore,
I’ve never been especially physical. Horseplay was never my thing. I wasn’t one
of those kids who squirmed. I’d rather sit for hours with my nose in a book or
at work on a creative project.
As a teacher, it’s easy for me to see the
greatness in a student who comes to class, engages, and plays along. I can find
a million positive things to say about students who are eager readers,
thoughtful writers, and deep thinkers. I appreciate student creativity, especially
if it makes me laugh because of its cleverness.
When things get heated in class discussion,
however, my first inclination is to retreat into my shell. When students get
uber-competitive in a game or get a little rambunctious during a class activity,
I become a little nervous. I have to remind myself that the students who seem
argumentative, confrontational, rowdy, and unruly to me during those activities
could be passionate, principled, persuasive, engaged, energetic, and eager if I
view them through a different lens.
Identifying and acknowledging our own biases is
the first step in learning to seek the potential in everyone we encounter. Some
biases are easy for us to spot; others exist on a deeper, unconscious level.
A 2016 study found that students of color
are underrepresented in gifted programs nationwide. More specifically, black
students are about half as likely to be identified as “gifted and talented” as
their white peers with comparable standardized test scores. The researchers
crunched all sorts of numbers to try to determine the cause for this disparity.
Only one factor made a significant difference in identification of “gifted”
black students: the race of their teachers. The put it more bluntly, white
teachers aren’t good at spotting giftedness in non-white students.
This study has so many implications for the
world of education. Not only does it underscore the importance of having
teacher demographics that mirror student demographics, but it also invites all
of us—regardless of our race—to examine our own implicit biases. It’s easy to
shift the blame for this inequity to other people, but the data indicates that
those of us who are pointing the fingers also need to take a look in the
mirror.
Implicit biases are natural. Everyone has them.
And because they are implicit, we usually don’t know we have them. These biases
exist on an unconscious level. I’m not sure we can ever identify every bias we
hold, but I do think that the important work for each of us involves
acknowledging the existence of these biases, trying to become more aware of
them, and then taking action to correct them.
Project
Implicit, a
non-profit research project led by professors from University of Washington,
Harvard, and University of Virginia, has a number of tests you can take that
are designed to help identify implicit biases. The information they gather from
participants helps further their research. Always one to contribute what I can
in the name of learning (but mostly because I was curious), I took a few of
their tests. Of course, I was certain that the results would indicate that I
was without prejudice or bias. That’s what we would all like to believe about
ourselves, right? I was wrong. The tests pointed out some things that I’d never
even considered to be biases I held. I have since shared the website with
others, and what we uncovered made us uncomfortable and uneasy but opened up
some extremely worthwhile conversations about our biases and, more
significantly, what we should do about them. It was easy to beat ourselves up
for having those biases, but we soon realized that our self-criticism was
counterproductive without taking steps to change.
Trying to make the shift toward actively
looking for potential in others—students, coworkers, strangers I meet at
Kroger—has positively altered the way I see the world and the results I get
from those around me. I’m not always great at it, but I’m working at improving.
I’m sure it’s something I will have to keep working on forever. If it leads to
finding more of the good in others and helping them find the good in
themselves, the perpetual work will have been worth it.
Thank you for all the work you do to look for
potential in places where it’s not easy for you to spot.
