"She has so much potential."
“The teacher raved about her,” my friend said about her fourth grader. “She said she can be anything she wants to be — a writer, a scientist, a doctor. Said she is endlessly competent.”
Because I am a cranky old spoilsport, I was taken aback by this.
I completely understand my friend’s delight and pride in her child’s accomplishments and academic success. But here’s what I want to say to the teacher:
“You are working with fourth graders. These humans have been on the planet for a decade at most. It’s not yet time to decide what they have the potential to be.
“If you’re telling one parent that her daughter can be anything, I hope you’re telling every single other parent the same thing. You have no proof that it’s not true.
“I hope that you are still seeing, in your daily interactions, the infinite potential in every single one of the students who have been entrusted to you.
“I hope you can challenge the students, like my friend’s daughter, who succeed at everything you put in front of them. What else could they do? How can they stretch and grow? How might you accustom them to the discomfort of not getting 100% on the first try?
“Likewise, for the ones who are all too used to such discomfort, I hope you can meet them where they are and believe in their ability to master the material at hand. Being the first doesn’t mean being the best, and being the last doesn’t mean being the worst.
“I hope, in your classroom, there is room to appreciate a child’s determination, creativity, sense of humor, loyalty to their friends, and other qualities that are not traditionally measured by grades that nonetheless can contribute greatly toward a person’s success and happiness in life.
“I know this is a lot to ask of a fourth-grade public school teacher who is tasked with overseeing the intellectual, social, and emotional development of at least twenty-five souls. I appreciate the difficulty of your position and your desire to say something to make a parent happy.
“There’s a tendency we adults have to focus on the future when we’re talking about kids and and their potential. We say things like, ‘Wow, she’s got some amazing musical ability for a five-year-old! She could be a composer or a professional pianist,’ or, ‘His recipes are fantastic and he’s only ten! Imagine what he’ll be doing when he’s twenty…he’ll have his own cooking show!’
“However, what if this exuberance about a child’s potential actually limits it? The well-meaning adults might make decisions that send the child down a specific path — and the child may feel pressure to continue on that path, or to continue to be so good at what they do that they can’t experiment and make mistakes and fail.
“What if, instead, we focus on the here and now? How might that actually make your job easier with these young ones? If you release yourself from the obligation of making decisions about a kid’s future, you don’t have to think about it — or worry about it. As you teach them to read, write, think, and experiment without fear of the future, you may see new possibilities for developing their potential, not assessing it. I believe you’ll have more fun and find your work more fulfilling.”
Am I speaking to myself as much as I’m speaking to this nameless teacher? You bet I am.