Lessons from a Slow Learner

I spent a lot of my school career as a slow leaner. For a variety of reasons I didn’t learn to read until I was in the third grade and my right-brained approach was very out of step in that left-brained world we call school. For those and other reasons I spent a lot of years thinking (and being thought of) as someone who was a day late and dollar short when it came to learning. As I look back on it now, I see that being thrown into that particular briar patch was a blessing and paved the way for a lot of my later success. It gave me many gifts which allowed me to go on and later be considered an underachiever and then a gifted student. I learned that looking through a different lens separated you from the pack and that being confident in yourself trumped the approval of others. It allowed me to race through my college and graduate programs, culminating in a doctorate from Harvard.

Now I am not suggesting that we try to increase the number of slow learners. But I am suggesting that some of those so-called slow learners in our classrooms may have a lot more to offer than you might think. Some of the gifts that being a slow learner gave me have come in handy over the years. Let me share a few with you.

Skepticism for Labels
First, I came away from the experience with a real skepticism for labels since I carried the label first of slow learner, and then as I got better at tests as an “underachiever.” The truth is that just because they thought I knew things didn’t mean I knew how to put them to work in the classroom. Later when I figured out the “game” I became “gifted.” The reality is that I was the same kid through the whole process. Because my own brain tended to be lateral and non-linear (and I was sentenced to 12 years in a linear, sequential world) the way I thought and did things was different than the way a lot of the other kids worked and certainly was different from what the teachers expected. It makes me wonder how many potential Harvard doctorates are sitting out there in our classrooms carrying a label that really reflects the fact they are square pegs being forced into a round hole.

Not Afraid to Ask the Dumb Question
One of the best compliments I ever received as a school superintendent came from a board president who was a full professor at Princeton University. He said, “You know what I like best about you, Houston, is that you are not afraid to ask the dumb question.” He meant it as a compliment and I took it that way. I have come to realize that the only dumb question is the one we fail to ask. I spent so many years sitting in classrooms asking questions that garnered chuckles from classmates and tolerant smiles from teachers, only to realize later that my question was the one that opened the discussion to new vistas. All it cost was a little embarrassment on my part. After a while I wasn’t embarrassed anymore and I was able to better understand those things that were initially a mystery only because I asked the dumb questions. Now I make it a point to raise a question if I don’t understand something or if I want to check my understanding. I have also observed that the fear of embarrassment stifles others from doing the same. I think our world would be a lot better off if more people asked the dumb questions—like is this really the war we should be fighting, or should we really be giving mortgages to people who can’t pay them back?

The Power of "Maybe"
Another lesson I learned was the power of "maybe." "Maybe" lets us look at life as a banquet of possibilities. It keeps our options open. I have found that most people who think they are smart are not very open to "maybe." They wallow in their own certainty and never consider that maybe there is another way to do something. As a right-brainer (lateral thinker) I always try to consider a different way of looking at things. I like to look at alternative solutions by turning questions and problems upside down and inside out. I don’t think had I been an A student from the beginning I would be nearly so open to alternative ideas. I would have known the right answers from the beginning. Since I often had no answer, I had to go on a safari to find one and that left me open to new ways of looking at the world.

Ignore the Judgment of Others
The other little word that I have found to be very powerful and I believe is a direct result of my lack of early success is "so." "So" is a simple one-word philosophy of life that lets you ignore the judgment of others. Now it has an ugly cousin, "so what," that tends to be abrasive and objectionable. “So what” is dismissive of others. It says "I don’t care what you say, I am doing it my way." "So" is a much gentler and more powerful way of looking at the world. It says you can have your judgments. I hear them and I have considered them but I am not bound by them. The ability to make decisions without being driven by the judgment of others is powerful. It is important to listen to what others have to say. They may have a better idea or way of doing something. They may be right in their criticism, but they may not be. You don’t have to captive to their ignorance or apathy. Being able to say “so” to yourself once you have chosen your course opens up the world.

Fewer Blind Spots
Since I spent some much of my early life being in the wrong, I found that I grew up with fewer blind spots created by my own certainty than I saw in others. When you have had a way of doing things that works for a long time, it grooves your thinking and creates these “scotomas,” or blind spots, that cause you to ignore other possibilities. I am not suggesting that I don’t have blind spots myself, I am just saying I have fewer of them than many people I have dealt with and I think it is because I always had to consider the possibility I wasn’t right about something.

Persistence in the Face of Adversity
Perhaps the greatest lesson from my years as slow learner was that I became persistent in face of adversity. But I also learned when to call it a day. Like the lyrics of that Kenny Rogers song, it was about knowing when to hold them and when to fold them. I became an astute judge of my own possibilities and my own weaknesses and had a real sense of how far I could go with something. When you spend many years being told you are wrong about pretty much everything but somehow knowing you weren’t, you hone your own sense of self and become pretty resilient. The tragedy for so many of our children is that they get that resilience beaten out of them long before it becomes a habit. I was lucky; I became “gifted” before that happened to me. The question for any educator is how do we withhold our judgment of children and how do we remain open to their possibilities before they are snuffed out of them?

Paul Houston is Executive Director, Emeritus, of the American Association of School Administrators and President of the Center for Empowered Leadership. He is also the author of the book Giving Wings to Children’s Dreams: Making Our Schools Worthy of Our Children (© 2010 Corwin Press).