A sermon by Jaco B. ten Hove on Public Education Sunday at Paint Branch UU Church Adelphi, MD — Oct. 2, 2005
Looking back on my own formal educational journey, which culminated in a Masters degree (in Divinity, no less), I can nonetheless recall that I initially had a very hard time appreciating college. I came out of high school in the top 5% of my graduating class, but dropped out of two colleges in pretty quick succession. Mostly I couldn’t sit still for all the required classes that didn’t interest me. It was nine years before I went back. In the meantime I did well enough in a couple of technical training programs, but those fields didn’t hold up for me, either.
When I did return to academia, I got very lucky. I stumbled upon a state liberal arts college that— unbeknownst to me when I enrolled—specialized in generalism. (Generalism is a relatively uncelebrated field that encourages broad-based study, big picture consideration, exploring the interconnection of issues, etc. This approach is often viewed in contrast to the narrowly focused training of specialized experts in a single field.)
Perhaps some of your paradox-alert mechanisms have just gone off: is it possible to “specialize in generalism”? Happily for me, Ramapo College of New Jersey, founded in 1970, was one of a few institutions willing to walk this novel path, calling it a commitment to “interdisciplinarity,” which is the academic way of saying generalism (i.e., studying the interplay among multiple disciplines).
Notice that this approach says nothing about content, per se, but describes how an educational philosophy is embodied—studying the interplay among multiple disciplines. It quickly became my specialty, and I graduated at the top of my class, majoring in another broad-based subject— Communication Arts. I finally found a path into higher education that worked for me and I ate it up.
This was, also unbeknownst to me at the time, a large step toward the Unitarian Universalist ministry—perhaps one of the most interdisciplinary and generalist careers there is. Almost exactly 12 up and down months after graduating from Ramapo College, I discovered my path to ministry, my call. Now, two+ decades later, I increasingly know a little bit about lots of things—enough to even be occasionally dangerous, perhaps. I am an avowed generalist, and like most others who would consider themselves as such, I like to think that I have learned how to learn.
Alongside the important content of almost any level of education is the equally important but often minimized process of educating, the how of learning. This is not an either-or proposition, of course, but what I like to call “both-andian.” There must be both good content and good process. At the college level, I would heartily tout the liberal arts path as the best both-andian route to a strong platform of knowledge, confidence and character.
If you really learn how to learn, then you can with confidence make fulfilling judgments about what content is most authentic for you. I will, in a moment, offer some exciting new angles on the process of learning that could have helped me greatly on my journey had I or the educators of my earlier years known about them. But first, a short sidebar about the larger context for this discussion. (I can’t help it; I’m a generalist.)
President John F. Kennedy made the timeless observation that “Leadership and learning are indispensable to each other.” In that brief sentence, however, he did not specify what kind of learning, or how it is best acquired.
And leadership, per se, is not in any short supply these 40-odd years later, nor has it ever been lacking, really. But what kind of leadership and how it is acquired remains extremely pertinent. For instance, America is currently experiencing the impact of national political leaders who have indeed learned how to acquire power, power with which to achieve an ideological agenda, unfolding before us, week after week.
History may well judge harshly the path to power of the leader of this band and whether their agenda serves the common good or more narrow self-interests. But while we today watch and participate in an era when—using the most obvious of criteria—the well-off prosper more and more and the have-nots multiply with less and less, we might wonder what can be done to offer leadership of a different, more balanced stripe.
Which brings me to Public Education Sunday. For I believe that the measure of leadership for the common good in this country can be observed in direct relation to the health of our public education system. Let me repeat that assertion. The measure of leadership for the common good in this country is in direct proportion to the health of our public education system. And it is not hard to observe that both have diminished in recent years.
I think there may be no better way to actively affirm a different vision for our country than by supporting and assisting public education. That is the root of our best national process, the soil in which we plant our hopes, the field that blossoms with rich diversity and strength. Especially in the arts can we find hope and inspiration—IF they can do more than just barely survive in public school settings. They need to thrive.
What the liberal arts program is to our nation’s college system, public education is to our national character. When either is short-changed, the country’s future is compromised. Observe the priorities of our current leadership and one has to wonder what kind of a future they have in mind for America.
But there is good news, my friends! I want to share with you this morning, ever so briefly, some impressions I have gleaned from poking around a bit at the forefront of progressive educational ideas.
Just as I was finishing up my interdisciplinary college career those 20 odd years ago, a fellow at Harvard University, named Howard Gardner, began proposing an innovative approach to education. After two decades of exploration, there is very little doubt that he is onto something, for his ideas have been tested and retested and shown to be quite functionally effective.
Howard Gardner is the father of a field loosely called Multiple Intelligences, suggesting that there are numerous ways to measure or consider how we manifest intelligence. This is in sharp contrast to the abiding theory represented by that good ol’ IQ test, which produces a single number, the “Intelligence Quotient,” to describe a person’s brain capacity.
We know that even if schools resist IQ tests, per se, they still endeavor to assess a student’s “intelligence” and then often judge that person either worthy or not. And people in other settings and at any stage of life are also routinely assessed, usually by inadequate and/or dubious methods. The ones who don’t measure up to narrowly conceived standards can then be summarily written off by an employer, recruiter, etc.
Howard Gardner and the field of multiple intelligences counters that we are all smart, just in different ways. It is much healthier for the common good to expect that any individual has gifts of intelligence, some of which might not register on traditional scales or tests. So “learning how to learn” also means learning how a person learns best and then getting them into the most productive settings for maximum growth.
As adults, we have to take responsibility for doing this ourselves, usually, but young people can be woefully neglected if they don’t fit well into traditional educational methodologies. They then often acquire a self-image that limits where they feel they can go as adults. What the field of multiple intelligences has shown, however, is that if a broader lens is used to discover a student’s natural, even if non-traditional intelligence, they can thrive and find a very fulfilling path in life.
One website headline [http://surfaquarium.com/MI/overview.htm] used this helpful quip: “It’s not how smart you are—it’s how you are smart.” (By the way, you can find out lots more about all this by web-searching for “multiple intelligences” or “Howard Gardner.”)
But this is not an exact science, to be sure, and even the term “intelligence” can be fuzzy, so it’s wise for us at all levels to exercise caution about making assumptions. A notable advocate of multiple intelligences, Dee Dickinson, of New Horizons for Learning [PO Box 31876, Seattle WA 98103, http://www.newhorizons.org], explained it this way:
For the most part, the word “intelligent” [has been] used in a beneficent way; however, its imprecision can be readily displayed by a recognition that it has been applied to nearly all of the American presidents in this century, even though it is doubtful that any two of our presidents exhibited similar kinds of minds. Perhaps ironically, Herbert Hoover and Jimmy Carter, two of America’s least successful presidents, both of whom were engineers, probably came closest to the lay idea of “intelligence.” It may be worth noting that they have become distinguished by their behaviors as ex-presidents.
So we should at least realize by now that our working definitions of and assumptions about human intelligence are weak. To strengthen our grip, let me now present eight kinds of intelligence, as determined by Howard Gardner, still the acclaimed leader in this field. He and his mates are considering adding more to the list, but these seem to be the accepted ones right now.
At the top of the list have to be the two traditional and dominant forms of intelligence:
+ verbal-linguistic and
+ logical-mathematical
Those who are strong in the verbal-linguistic realm excel in language arts—speaking, writing, reading, listening. And those who lean toward the logical-mathematical will display an aptitude for numbers, reasoning and problem solving.
Both of these groups usually do well in traditional educational settings because their intelligence lends itself to teaching that is logically sequenced and asks students to conform. But these forms of intelligence—however dominant in school curricula—are evidently only just the tip of the iceberg.
It seems that there are actually six other forms of intelligence, and it is quite possible that anyone could be a genius in one or another of them, too. Actually, we usually embody a combination of intelligences, which is then referred to as our learning style. Most school curricula are not designed to draw out these additional attributes, but there are more and more fruitful experiments in accommodating diverse styles of learning, and those field studies are providing some very encouraging results.
Besides verbal-linguistic and logical-mathematical, the other, newly respected forms of intelligence—that can be developed at any age—are these:
VISUAL/SPATIAL intelligence is found in those who learn best by watching and then organizing things in relation to each other. They like to see examples or images of whatever is being considered. (This visual aid is for you!) They can be easily distracted or bored in purely verbal settings, preferring to enjoy most anything that might catch their eye, such as charts, graphs, maps, tables, illustrations, art, puzzles, costumes. Ever notice how some people seem to have a great sense of direction?
BODILY/KINESTHETIC intelligence is exemplified by those who learn well through activities, like games, movement, hands-on tasks, building things. When young, they can get labeled “overly active” in settings where they have to sit and be still. But turn them loose on physical problems or exercises and they excel. They often move through space gracefully and powerfully. Agility is a form of intelligence.
MUSICAL/RHYTHMIC folks learn best through songs, patterns, rhythms, instruments and musical expression. Someone with perfect pitch, for instance, would be a genius in this type of intelligence. But music is often given short shrift in traditional educational settings, and then whatever gifts might have been discovered early can be overlooked or neglected in adulthood. Yet the beauty within remains and can find magnificent outlets, at least in appreciation.
INTERPERSONAL intelligence means between people. This is very visible in those who are extroverted and people-oriented, who learn well cooperatively in groups or partnerships. They may get labeled as “too social,” but their gift for perceiving the intricacies and moods of others often makes them excellent team leaders. Young people strong in this intelligence would likely see a report card that says “plays well with others.”
INTRAPERSONAL intelligence means within an individual, and emerges in those who are especially in tune with their own interior—their feelings, values and ideas. They may be more reserved and appear disinterested, but this can mask a lot of internal activity and self-awareness. They usually develop a strong intuition about what they learn and how to relate to it. They are geniuses at knowing themselves.
NATURALIST intelligence exists in people who lean toward the world outside, who are drawn to animals, who excel on field trips. Traditional educational settings often don’t accommodate such people, but their sensitivity to the wider environment is their gift. They might get overly absorbed in the intricate movements of trees outside a classroom and miss parts of a lecture, but their ability to notice subtleties in their surroundings allows them to draw meaningful conclusions that escape others.
So there you have it: eight kinds of intelligence. From this list, we might infer just how absolutely pivotal and inescapable are our preferred learning styles, which then, of course, translate into our behavioral and working styles. And these innate tendencies usually stay with us as we age.
Howard Gardner suggests most of us are strong in three of these eight types of intelligence. Our particular combination can point to both our capabilities and our weaknesses, and describe how we learn best. All of which is very useful information, as we each design our journey through this lifetime. Maybe some of those descriptions ring a bell for you. The import of this is that our own authentic combination of intelligences creates a veritable learning channel, through which we can effectively apprehend the universe.
But this would be especially valuable information to apply to children in their formative years, don’t you think? Imagine if we each came into our parents’ loving arms with a tag that declared which three strong suits we would be wearing as we grew up. (Maybe bio-genetics will eventually be able to do that.)
I suppose some of the fun of life is finding out what your gifts are, but what tends to happen in most schools doesn’t allow much room for that, alas—unless, of course, your gifts are in the verbal- linguistic and/or logical-mathematical styles. And remember how much of a child’s life is spent in school. But, in our own ways, we try to persevere from our strengths anyway.
In almost any congregation, I suspect, are at least a few very successful and fulfilled people who were at one point judged to be failures at school. Our wider culture is extremely enriched by brilliant scientists, leaders, writers, entertainers, athletes, humanitarians, healers, artists, etc.—all sorts of happy, accomplished and remarkable people who were once judged wanting by a very narrow definition of what constitutes intelligence.
That they persevered and came into their own also draws harsh attention to the many more invisible ones who couldn’t overcome stigma and discouragement because their gifts were under-valued, under-developed or unknown. I do believe that we are all smart, just in different ways.
From my very brief foray into this stimulating field, I sense that the paradigm shift happening in forefront educational circles today is one away from the limiting assumption that each person has a given and quantifiable intellectual capacity (i.e., I.Q.). Instead, more and more educators are realizing that each person has an unbounded potential for learning—for learning in many arenas and in many forms, for learning how to learn and how to walk in balance, for learning wisdom.
As one philosopher [Harry H. Moody] put it, “Wisdom is being able to see into the nature of life.” And we are finally coming to understand that life is a whole, interdependent system. Learning wisdom— a challenging and essential task, to be sure—requires holistic eyes and a holistic heart, holistic grounding and holistic teachers.
About 15 years ago, the very influential Carnegie Foundation for the Advancement of Teaching declared “The goal to common learning is to understand the connectedness of things.” Education based on such a foundation will surely improve the odds that the 21st century will see more leadership for the common good.
There may be a good reason why so many professional educators find themselves connected to Unitarian Universalist communities, with our avowed religious philosophy of oneness and interdependence. Not to mention the fact that public education in America was pioneered by a staunch Unitarian of the 19th century, Horace Mann.
And let me leave you with even one more bit of good news. Neurological research has proven that brain cells of any age can grow simply from environmental factors, i.e., process.
Yes, your brain cells may actually be growing right now because of how you live. This is evidently especially possible if your life is influenced by three factors:
- INTERGENERATIONAL EXPERIENCES (such as actively cooperating with people of other ages);
- CHALLENGES (frequently being stimulated by new endeavors); and
- TLC (receiving healthy doses of Tender Loving Care).
I’d like to think that Paint Branch is supremely located in your life to provide plenty of each, so that your brain cells keep on growing and you find ways to learn about and apply more and more of your authentic gifts to serve the common good.
We who would act in stewardship for this world must be as mentors to each other and to the generations coming up underneath us. May there be ever more support for fuller, lifelong educational possibilities. And may we deepen our commitment to the public education system, so that learning and leadership might emerge holistically.
Poet Robert Frost defined his mission this way: “I am not a teacher,” he said. “I am an awakener.” Many of you are likely both. Meanwhile, as your allies, we generalists will ply our perspective and seek wisdom by seeing into the nature of life from beautifully diverse angles. And as we all learn how to learn together, I think we can hardly do more for each other and our children than simply to demonstrate caring: TLC.
So may it be.