When the election is over it would be good to begin to consider how to actually improve NZ society for all.
As a parent of three now-adult children, the main thing I would want every new parent to understand is this: you haven’t simply had a “baby”. You have brought a new human being into the world, and your life will be invested in theirs from that moment on. Imagine what children born today may see in their lifetimes: in all likelihood, they will spend the latter part of their lives in the 22nd century.
Before becoming a teacher, I was fortunate to encounter the writings of C. S. Lewis. I have not always lived up to the ideal, but one quotation stays with me every day as I work with students:
“There are no ordinary people. You have never talked to a mere mortal. Nations, cultures, arts, civilizations – these are mortal, and their life is to ours as the life of a gnat. But it is immortals whom we joke with, work with, marry, snub and exploit.”
I recently read a remarkable book, The Brain, by Stanford neuroscientist David Eagleman. Although this is not his explicit argument, his account of the brain and human capabilities suggests to me that much of our parenting, education and expectations for life remain rooted in the last century — if not the one before.
I have always told students that if they have learned to walk and talk, they can learn maths, develop their writing, read great literature and acquire remarkable skills in carpentry, art, dance or music. That does not mean learning is easy. Learning something well requires sustained, purposeful practice — but it is possible.
Eagleman highlights the importance of parents as first teachers:
“If developing brains are not given the proper “expected” environment – one in which the child is nurtured and looked after – the brain will struggle to develop normally. Without an environment with emotional care and cognitive stimulation the human brain cannot develop normally.”
For teachers and parents caring for children who have missed out on that nurture, he offers encouragement:
“The brain can often recover, to varying degrees, once the children are removed to a safe and loving environment. … We know that the process of building the human brain takes up to 25 years.”
I have often heard parents and teachers dismiss children’s potential or abilities. When we label students by perceived ability — whether aloud or in our own minds — we risk limiting them in profoundly damaging ways. As C. S. Lewis reminds us, “There are no ordinary people.” There are no “thick” kids, either. They are incredible human beings whose brains are capable of learning and change. They need love, encouragement, guidance, knowledge and challenge.
In the same way, we should not prescribe an “appropriate pathway” on the basis of a premature judgement about a student’s abilities — particularly one based on demographics. A former student once wrote to me:
“Bit of a different path to take and if you’d told me 20 years ago I would be living in Korea married with 3 kids I would have thought you were crazy. I have never ever forgotten my economics class with you back at TBC. Your teaching style and genuine interest in the students left a mark on me. A story you told about a rugby ball getting stuck between the posts because of the angle even today sticks in my mind.”
Had I tried to predict his future or define a pathway for him, I would have been putting up barriers. I had no right to limit him. A teacher’s role is to teach every child with an open mind about what they can become, rather than treating their past as a ceiling on their future.
There is good news for those of us over 25, too. As Eagleman puts it: “In adulthood our brain continues to change. Experience changes it. We can’t stop the process of aging, but by practicing all of the skills in our cognitive toolbox, we may be able to slow it down. We’re not fixed. From the cradle to the grave we are works in progress.”
Republished from the author’s Substack with permission.
