Growth Mindset, or Settling?

This graphic came across my Twitter feed a few weeks ago:

I read it initially and retweeted, because who doesn’t want to have a growth mindset over a fixed mindset?

And then it started niggling in the back of my brain, and I began to feel more and more annoyed and offended by parts of the graphic.  The longer I considered it, the more infuriated I felt.

Why are we always encouraged to believe that kids aren’t worth it – the extra money, the extra resources, the extra well-educated personnel?  Why are we always encouraged to work with the minimum, rather than filling the classroom to the maximum?

If we really believe in inclusion, why aren’t we advocating rather accepting?  It can be viewed as a value judgement on the child if we choose to settle for what we have, rather than advocating for everything we believe he or she needs.  There’s an implication that our exceptional learners can “get by” if only teachers have a growth mindset.

I completely agree with the quote at the bottom of the image:  “When a flower doesn’t bloom you fix the environment in which it grows, not the flower.”  And it’s because I believe that sentiment that I will never stop advocating for what I think is best for my students, whether it’s time, materials, or human resources.  Let’s stop trotting out the lack of support for our exceptional learners as something inspirational like having a “growth mindset”.  It denigrates them, and everyone who works tirelessly to make their school life a positive and rewarding experience.

Life in Kindergarten: Kissing, Butt Slapping, and Nudity

I have a “rocking” little kindergarten class this year.  My students are rough, busy, and loud.  They haven’t come with much patience, don’t possess much stamina for school, and are struggling to make green choices. I’ve definitely seen a lot of growth since the beginning of the year, but some days . . . oh my, some days!

There are days I feel as though all I’ve done is manage behaviour.  I’ve pulled out all my teacher tricks, I’ve read for new ideas, and I’ve picked the brains of my colleagues.  And still, there are days that I feel defeated by a group of five year olds!

But then the best thing happens . . . I pop into the room across the hall, or make a longer walk down the hall to the middle year’s end.  I visit with one of my colleagues, and we share stories of our wild day, sometimes over chocolate.  All the stuff that made the day seem disastrous melts away in the heat of laughter.  The shared stories help create a problem solving atmosphere, and often a plan for moving forward germinates from the interaction.  I am so grateful for the supportive relationships I have, for the people around me who gently push me to do better.

By the time I get home, I am able to tell the funny stories of the day, and laugh.  My teenagers giggle at the number of times I’m asked for a kiss, that my butt is slapped or fondled as a question asking method, or that a child pulls down his pants.  They think kindergarten is definitely more x-rated than high school!

Adding the therapy from my family to the therapy already received from colleagues, allows me to confidently and happily face a fresh day each morning . . . which is exactly what the little people I work with deserve.