Purposefulness

Monday morning. First Monday in January. I am, like most people today, full of purposefulness.

In all truth, I don't usually dread Monday mornings. I like my work - teaching 10 year olds. In part I like this work because it is full of purposefulness. Ten year olds, according to Piaget, are the in the phase he refers to as "Inferiority versus Industry." I concur completely. A ten year old is a body of busyness. Full of interests, hobbies, newly acquired facts. Ten year olds, if all has gone well, are competent readers, budding writers, beginning to really see themselves as capable of posing and answering questions. And not simply yes/no questions, but higher order, deeper questions. In other words, ten year olds are full of purpose.

Now yes, a ten year old has doubts. Some more than others. They worry, chew their nails, fret. You can see it flit in the corners of their eyes. "Can I do this?" "What does she want?" "I can't do that." And, of course, it is my job to coach them through, and push those glances of fear from the corners of their eyes.

Teaching is being a cheerleader, a coach, a priestess of purposefulness. There is a lot of philosophy in my classroom. I dispel, as best I can, the idea that they accomplish things because they are smart. Everyone has intelligence; everyone has something they are particularly good at. Everyone in the room, I will state, is a genius at something.

Then I tell them flat out that all that smartness, or genius doesn't mean a thing if people don't work. Effort is everything. They can do things, they just need to put in the hours. I tell them about Einstein and the inspiration/perspiration equation. I tell them how much practice Yo Yo Ma or Michael Jordan puts in.

Finally, I tell them about me. I tell them that I could not read until I was in third grade. I let them know that I have something called dyslexia and that even today they will hear me read from a book and rearrange the words. I tell them that my parents made me read every night, out loud, for a half hour for nearly two years so that I learned to read. And once I learned, I loved it. Once I learned, I felt smart. I tell them I went to college and graduate school, but I still have trouble reading out loud. I tell them that I like to read to them everyday because it is a challenge, but I am improving. I tell them how much I am inspired by how hard they try everyday. If I am lucky, this speech usually helps one or two ten year olds in my class push their fears of failure a little farther away.

When pursuing personal and professional goals, one should try to be ten years old and full of purposefulness.

NOTE:

Compound words
A puzzle in Spanish is a head-breaker (rompecabezas), and someone who reads books a lot is a book-warmer (calientalibros). These two words are among the more colorful compound words that have entered the Spanish vocabulary!

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