Adjusting our expectations of children

These are “for toddlers,” but older kids can build much more interesting structures with them. (Image by Steve Buissinne)

For a few years, I ran a daily drop-in sing-along for families.

Of course, it was actually mostly babies and caregivers. So we lost the whole family bonding angle that I had been hoping for. But that’s okay — we could still offer an enriching musical experience for small children.

So we did. We sang songs, danced, did finger plays, and played instruments like the tambourine and bells. And inevitably, just when the child was starting to catch on, we’d hear from the parents that they had outgrown the sing-along and would love something more structured.

I found this amusing. Music education in mainstream American culture is so poor that the parents and caregivers present were often unable to sing along in tune to familiar songs or clap a steady beat (much less clap on the two and four). In other words, not even the adults had outgrown the sing-along.

Meanwhile, the children, with their nascent motor and language skills, were just beginning to be able to sing the songs themselves and mimic the movements that went along with each one (or to hold instruments and use them appropriately without putting them in their mouths). The sing-along was designed to allow these small children to appreciate it more deeply as they grew. However, by the time they were ready to fully participate, the parents wanted them to move on.

I have since seen this phenomenon across every age group. The class designed for preschoolers gets interest from parents of toddlers. The class designed for grades K to 2 receives queries from the parents of preschoolers. The class designed for third through fifth graders is the one that the parents of the lower elementary school students want, and the class for middle schoolers is desired by the parents of the upper elementary students. And on and on it goes.

Look, I’d love to teach a group of first graders to play guitar or help ten-year-olds write original songs and play them in a band. I’ve tried. But it is so much more rewarding for everyone involved when kids get to do activities at which they can be immediately, visibly successful.

Strangely, the intense desire for ambitious-sounding activities, at least in the arts, goes along with low standards for achievement. Parents seem to want the music class to be just a fun diversion — we’re not expecting the kids to learn much. Ironically, if we scaled down our ambition regarding the class itself, the participants could gain some meaningful skills.

We’re simultaneously overestimating and underestimating children’s capabilities. This is a minor problem in music (which, frankly, no one cares about), but it’s a giant, tragic problem in academic subjects. We’re asking children to read and write at ever-earlier ages. We’re asking them to begin elements of algebra (i.e., working with variables) in fifth grade. We’re giving them homework starting in kindergarten, which is now all day in many areas.

This is not, at least in the United States, resulting in capable, passionate learners with precocious abilities. Just the opposite. Kids arrive in middle school with poor handwriting, weak fundamentals in arithmetic, and gaps in their language skills. Not all kids, sure, but that’s the whole problem: If the system is designed to only reward the handful of kids who are emotionally and academically ready to do work that’s beyond the developmental level of most of their age peers, we’re leaving a trail of human suffering and lost potential that will harm our society for generations. (You could argue that this has already been happening for quite some time.)

I propose that it’s time for a reset of expectations. Maria Montessori had it right: “At some given moment it happens that the child becomes deeply interested in a piece of work; we see it in the expression on his face, his intense concentration, the devotion to the exercise.” When kids are most engaged in what they are doing, they are joyful — and they are learning. This can’t happen if we’re giving them tasks that they can’t even begin without help.

If we want happy, focused, independent learners, we need to scale back our demands on them, even the ones that sound fun. We have to stop raising the bar. We have to stop curating their world to fit an older child and instead, meet them where they are. We have to be patient and let them develop at their own pace, asking only what is developmentally appropriate.

When our expectations are on par with a child’s ability, everyone feels good. We’re guiding the child to build success upon success, creating a virtuous cycle in which the child has her own motivation to grow and seek out new challenges. Ironically, releasing our attachment to unrealistic expectations gives the child space to surprise and dazzle us with growth and accomplishments on her own terms.