The E-word

One bright morning on a typical third-grade classroom day, a teacher sat at a table with her students and showed them how to work problems for a new math lesson. A young girl named T. suddenly understood the new material and exclaimed, "Oh! That's easy!"

"We don't use the e-word here," the teacher told her. "This problem may seem easy for you, but maybe not for some of your classmates, It might hurt someone's feelings to say something is easy if whoever hears you doesn't understand it yet. You don't want to hurt anyone's feelings do you?"

And so, the delight of sudden insight turns into a cause for shame and guilt.

My dark-haired co-worker, who often smells of delicious exotic spices, didn't immigrate to the USA to give her two daughters, T. and R., any second-rate opportunities. Last year, she set up a conservatorship and trust fund for her older daughter, the petite young lady with the pleasant smile and lack of any math ability. This year, she hopes her younger daughter, the slender, tall, athletic one, will be accepted into a prestigious private school,
T., the younger daughter, does well in school without studying and may soon get over the brainwashing she endured five years ago in third grade,

My co-worker, V. discovered her daughter's condition, when T scolded her at home for using the E-word. V wisely said that "classroom rules" don't always apply at home And at home, it is okay to say something is easy.

V. hopes that, if her daughter's application to private school is denied, perhaps her last bits of E-word thinking and that she'll turn competitive and start studying harder. V. doesn't like the American fantasy that young kids benefit from being protected from the rigors of competition and from the disappointment of finding they aren't the sharpest, fastest or most likely to succeed. In her native country, student rankings on tests and final grades are made public from the kids very early ages. When parents there ask a teacher there, "How is my child doing?" they expect to hear how their kid compares to the other kids.

T's teacher's efforts to install empathy -- a woefully rare trait -- is commendable. Children need to learn that their words can cause hurt feelings. However, trying to protected kids from the pain of learning their personal limitations undermines the credibility of anyone who attempts it. The kids learn about no matter what adults do.

If the most pleasant feelings and expressions associated with learning are routinely crushed, it is no wonder the high school drop out rate in the USA is 30% or more! Also, how can teachers in good conscience hope to protect young children from glimpses of the pecking order we expect from the free market meritocracy we ostensibly inhabit? So what if some children pick up new material faster than others? Why scold the fast learners? Did Marie Curie's teachers scold her for her mental agility? Was Jonas Salk asked to curb his intellectual enthusiasm? If they had been treated that way, would we still have enjoyed the benefits of science we enjoy today?