September 29, 2009
Kathleen Macdonell
Upper School Director and Academic Dean
"The
intuitive mind is a sacred gift and the rational mind is a faithful
servant. We have created a society that honors the servant and has
forgotten the gift."
–Albert Einstein
We
just observed the 8th anniversary of 9/11, and it brought back to me
how frightening and sad those first few months after it had been for
all of us, and reminded me how it really changed the landscape of our
minds in an irrevocable way. Now we are facing the threat of a global
pandemic as well as surviving the effects of the financial crisis– not
to mention the prospect of drastic climate change and now the knowledge
that Iran is working on nuclear weapons. A world filled with anxiety.
I used to always think about medieval walled cities – how quaint to be
able to keep an enemy at bay by high walls and fortified towers. We
seem to be surrounded by difficulties that challenge our very existence
– difficulties that can’t be avoided by building high walls or hiding
in the woods until the danger passes. It’s no wonder that we all go
around with permanently clenched jaws or tight shoulder muscles – it
seems that no amount of yoga or running or massage can relieve those
symptoms.
I have noticed one other effect of this anxiety, one
that has an impact on our daily lives here at Lincoln. In an effort to
control the uncontrollable, in the desire to make the lives of our
children as safe and successful as they can possibly be against this
uneasy background, there seems to be a rise in the level of
expectations for their academic performance. A desire to make sure
they have all the opportunities possible makes us strive to do
everything we can to keep those options open for them. This desire is
laudable, but it can lead to an expectation of perfection, an
expectation that our students can’t make mistakes, that they must do
everything at the highest level in order to be successful in this crazy
world.
This kind of pressure on teenagers can have unintended
consequences. At its most extreme it can “make our children sick,” in
the words of former MIT Dean of Admissions Marilee Jones, who goes on
to cite statistics showing the increase of control disorders and
various other kinds of psychological distress. She has become a
national spokesperson advocating a less stressful approach to college
admissions, an approach that would free students from their tendency to
make decisions in high school about courses and activities always based
on what they think college admissions officers will think, a fresh
approach that would allow them to choose the courses they really wanted
to take, rather than trying to take the largest number of AP courses
possible, an approach that would allow them to focus on the activities
they were truly interested in, rather than just embellishing their
transcripts, an approach that would give students time to think, to
digest what they were learning, to let them have time to indulge their
imaginations.
There are other worrisome consequences for this
quest for perfection. Students can be so tense and worried about their
grades that they take no pleasure in learning, but see each course,
each test or paper or project, each quiz, a hurdle to be jumped over, a
task to be mastered, and lose all the pleasure in learning new things,
in thinking new thoughts, in discussing interesting ideas. This quest
also puts a crimp on their creativity – as they tend to be careful in
their work, not risking a controversial position or a new way to look
at an idea, lest they fall short of perfection while they are wrestling
with finding a new, interesting way to look at a topic. Certainly as
we look to the future, to the huge problems facing us, we know that the
solutions to those problems will come from those who have the ability
to think and see creatively, and I fear that an education that focuses
on always having the right answer will stunt the development of that
creativity and intuition.
Perhaps the consequence that worries
me the most, though, is a concern for how these students will face the
hard things that will inevitably befall them in the years ahead. It
takes practice to learn that you can face a challenge, get a bad grade,
fail at something, not get the job you wanted, have a boyfriend leave
you, and still move on and have a good life. Lincoln is a good place
to get that practice, a place where students are surrounded by adults
who care about them and who will help teach them how to get up when
they have fallen. My last position was at a school in California,
beautifully situated on a mesa overlooking the mountains and the ocean;
to reach the school you had to drive up a winding mountain road. There
were speed bumps strategically placed along the road, with signs at the
bottom of the hill announcing them: “Bumps Ahead.” No better advice
for parents dropping their children off at school – let’s hope for
those bumps, and not rush in to rescue our daughters, but rather allow
them to learn that they can scrape their knees, fall into the thistles,
yet get up and still accomplish what they set out to accomplish, still
be successful, still have a rich and rewarding life.
Doing School: How We Are Creating a Generation of Stressed-Out, Materialistic, and Miseducated Students
by Denise Clark Pope
Stanford University
School of Education
Less Stress, More Success: A New Approach to Guiding Your Teen Through College Admissions and Beyond
by Marilee Jones
Independent Counselor
A Parent's Guide to Building Resilience in Children and Teens: Giving Your Child Roots and Wings (American Academy of Pediatrics)
by Kenneth R. Ginsburg
physician