Some days the kids in my classroom crack me up - even when they aren’t trying to be funny.
Cheryl is a fourth grader in one of my reading groups. She has some learning challenges, but she is a hard worker and very serious about her school work. The other day we were talking about explorers, and I was playing Explorer Jeopardy with the children to help them prepare for a test the next day.
It was Nathan’s turn: “He was the first European to climb to the top of a peak and look out over the ocean that would later be named the Pacific Ocean.”  He had the correct response: “Who was Balboa?”
Next was Emily’s turn:Â “He was
the first explorer to sail around the world.” (Another correct response: “Who was Magellan?”)
Cheryl was next: “Columbus sailed with these three ships to the new world.” Without bothering to put her response in the form of a question, Cheryl yelled out, “Cauliflower.” She was serious. (Of course she meant “Mayflower” which was the wrong answer anyway.)Â
Usually I am very good at holding in my reaction when
kids say unintentionally funny things in class. This time, though, I almost fell out of my seat laughing. Luckily, Cheryl realized what she had said almost immediately and laughed, too. She seemed to take it in stride and understand the humor of it. I sure hope so. The other kids in the group were laughing.Â
Someone once explained that having a learning disability is similar to having a filing cabinet full of papers spread out on the floor. Most of us have filing cabinets that are in order so that we can locate needed information easily and quickly. For the learning disabled child, though, the information is there, but the person must sort through all the disarrayed papers to get the piece of information needed at any given time. For Cheryl, the word “flower” was the key element, but she picked up the “names of vegetables” file instead of the ”names of Explorer’s ships” file - and in the process provided a little comic relief for all of us.
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December 3rd, 2006 at 2:14 pm
“…For the learning disabled child, though, the information is there, but the person must sort through all the disarrayed papers to get the piece of information needed at any given time. For Cheryl, the word “flower†was the key element, but she picked up the “names of vegetables†file instead of the â€names of Explorer’s ships†file.”
Yeh, I do the latter all the time, usually pretty quickly and with more than fair results. When that results in a positive outcome, folks generally think of it as “creative”. When the results are sub-optimal, they’re thought of as weird, dumb or simply evidence I’m not tracking.
Few people’s minds are as well-organized as they think they are.
Mine’s like my computer hard drives: any given subject all starts out well-organized but soon develops so many links and fragments that only increased processing power can resurrect the original data, and it’s never untainted by a myriad of associations kinda picked up along the way.
I simply look at it as a blessing. I consider all the results to be creative, whether they’re workable, sensible results or not. Discard the unworkable and explore the weirdly-connected workable or even merely plausible… or remotely possible.
Sure, there are some learning disabilities that are genuine handicaps (a word that needs to be seriously re-examined and brought back into the public arena, IMO), but other “disabilities” (ADHD, et al) are often (though not in all cases) simply differences from what’s considered, rightly or wrongly, a “normal” learning style.
Maybe Cheryl has a hidden comedic (or other) gift that can be fed by such a wiring quirk. Who knows? As long as her wiring is viewed strictly as a learning disability she and the folks around her are unlikely to ever know.
Part of the problem is an educational outlook underpinned by a manufacturing economy of scale outlook. It’s nothing that is inherent in students or teachers, but is underlying the entire structure of public schools. Frankly, I’d like to see some serious study of the effects of reducing (virtually eliminating) the enormous economic burden of top-heavy administrations and bureaucracies and redirecting those monies into smaller schools, not just smaller classroom size, schools that have the additional burden of remote management by educrats experimenting with students removed and directed by close ties with the actual patrons of the school: the students and their parents. I believe we’d not only see less teacher burnout, but also greater accomplishment by students who are “other enabled” (which is what I saw in many “learning disabled” students when I was working in public schools).
Looooong, sweeping hard left turn from your post, eh?
Well, that’s my disability.
December 3rd, 2006 at 4:25 pm
I’ve often thought I have the same disability or quirk. A word I KNOW is right on the tip of my tongue, but I can’t quite think of it.
You are SO right! Thanks for stopping by, David. Your comment is appreciated and enjoyed.
December 3rd, 2006 at 7:32 pm
Great post! As a mother of 4 children, it was some great insight to how children can respond. It also made me smile!