"What do you call the man who wants to embrace the
chimney sweep?" "A saint," said Father Brown. —G.K. Chesterton
Green and Growing Things
by Nancy
Carpentier Brown
"You know, Chesterton, if we could open your head, we should not
find a brain but only a lump of white fat!" Schoolmaster to a
young G.K. Chesterton.
Gilbert Chesterton
was a one-of-a-kind. He loved color. His stories are often accentuated with
colorful descriptions of the landscape and especially the sky, often at
twilight or sunset.
Noticing color is the artist in Gilbert and if he took the
"Learning Styles" test he'd be labeled "visual." Learning
Styles is a current fad in describing the way children learn. In the old days
we went to school and did our work. If we fell behind the teacher would help us
and advise our parents to try flash cards and review spelling words at home. If
we went ahead we got the SRA box in the back of the room. I don't recall what
SRA stands for but the SRA kids felt pretty superior about it.
Even though I was smart I can vividly recall being first down at a
spelling bee on the word "flag" in second grade. I made foolish
errors due to my spontaneity which nowadays might be classified as
"distracted," or worse, "ADD."
Learning Styles tests children to see if they learn best visually,
auditorially, or tactile/kinesthetically. Young Gilbert was always observant,
describing people and events very particularly. He continuously wrote notes to
himself on paper scraps. He tended to draw pictures and cartoons on bits of
paper including wallpaper.
"Not on the same plane with the rest: composition quite futile, but
will translate well and appreciate what he reads. Not a quick brain, but possessed
by a slowly moving tortuous imagination." Notes from a teacher about
G.K. Chesterton as a boy.
Would our children survive today without testing and labeling? Why is it
so progressive to be tested and labeled?
Today's parents want lots of data on their children. Objective data.
Facts and figures. Parents need quantifiable data on everything from the state
of their children's teeth to the state of their children's penmanship. And if
anything isn't up to par: the standard of "what almost every other child
in the fourth grade can do," there must be a diagnosis and label to
explain the discrepancy.
One mother recently informed me her child was a late speaker. She was
concerned and quite serious as she described the problem, the therapy required,
and the label: Genus—Developmental Articulation Disorder. Species—Dysarthria.
(Translation circa 1972: "Wait a few years and you won't be able to shut
him up.")
Child can't write like the other kids? Label: Genus—Developmental
Writing Disorder. Species—Dysgraphia (Translation circa 1972: "Writes
sloppy. Work on penmanship.")
Child isn't keeping up with math? Label: Genus—Developmental Arithmetic
Disorder. Species—Dyscalculia. (Translation circa 1972: "Needs help with
math. Try flash cards.")
It's fascinating to discover that professionals inform parents
(www.childrensmedgroup.com, for example) these types of "learning
disabilities" cannot be cured. Children can learn to adapt but they cannot
be cured. This kind of misinformation breeds fear in the hearts of unsuspecting
mothers and gives them sinking feelings in their chests, leading them to look
for support groups so they can share the sorrow of their incurable child with
other such informed parents.
I'm not saying there aren't legitimate things children have that therapy
will really help. I'm talking about slight delays that worry pediatricians,
teachers, and parents when a tincture of time is a better treatment.
Is there a case to be made for not testing? Not labeling? Not seeing
every late development as a serious offense against nature?
I believe there is and Gilbert is proof. At one point in his life he was
so distracted and paid so little attention in class his teacher told his mother
he should have his head examined.
Only a few years later under the newfound friendship of the Junior
Debating Club members, another teacher informed this same mother her child was
six feet of genius. Somehow I suspect Mrs. Chesterton wasn't surprised to hear
this.
It may satisfy a parent's inner organizer to have labels and things to
do such as visit therapists; but ultimately what are those therapists doing
that couldn't be done at home by the child's own parent? Reading to a child.
Listening to a child. Spending time helping a child form his letters, reviewing
flash cards, listening to the letter sounds again even if he's in fifth grade.
Many parents can do this if they just take the time.
There's a crop of franchises growing by leaps and bounds in this
country. These are private tutoring businesses. They specialize in testing your
children and providing one-on-one attention: a parent replacement. I've heard
the price for this kind of service is in the thousands. There must be many
parents who are willing to spend the money but not the time to ensure Johnny is
"caught up" with everyone else.
Each one of us is a one-of-a-kind. No amount of testing or labeling will
change that. Maximize a child's potential: spend time with a child today.