In his book, This is Marketing, author and innovator Seth Godin writes, “When we find the empathy to say, ‘I’m sorry, this isn’t for you…’ then we also find the freedom to do work that matters,” (101). While some might try to discredit this statement as irrelevant for anyone other than marketers, I’d posit that this claim is actually the key to a rich life.
It takes honesty and courage to admit that something isn’t for you. It demands discipline to stick to a plan. It demonstrates integrity when one can respect boundaries. It also proves the value of diversity. By admitting, “This isn’t for you,” with acceptance and faith—as opposed to “This isn’t for you,” with implicit judgment and deprecation—we open the doors for new opportunities that are better suited to a particular individual. (Interestingly, pronouns matter in this context. Several years ago, I attended a workshop with the National Institute for the Clinical Application of Behavioral Medicine (NICABM) hosted by Ruth Buczynski. During a discussion of Working with Core Beliefs one speaker presented the importance of self-talk as a method of self-regulation. It turns out that using non-first person pronouns can actually be motivating. The second person “you” can activate group/social nature (”You got this!”). It also allows a person to explore his inner world (”Do you really want to do this?”). Research from Ethan Kross and others has indicated that third person self-talk can create distance and facilitate better decision making (”Come on, Ethan. Get to work!”). Theoretically, “This isn’t for you,” is vocalized self-talk that can help a student get on the track that is for her.)
If we had been more empathetic and allowed for true diversity in this vein, perhaps our education system would have better outcomes (according to the data, approximately half of NYC public school students in grades 3-8 are proficient in Math and English Language Arts—imagine if your phone only sent 50% of your texts). Let me be clear, young students should not be told, “This isn’t for you!” when they are first embarking on their educational journey. Firstly, because they don’t have enough experience to make that determination and secondly, because every student can and should master basic literacy and numeracy skills. And the bulk of students should be proficient by the time they leave middle school. We have multiple technologies and techniques that can facilitate learning to read letters and numbers—yes, math is a language—and they should be employed and deployed when students are first learning how to work with written words and mathematical equations. You can’t tell someone “This isn’t for you,” if she hasn’t had enough exposure to a given task/subject/activity. At best, you can ask, “Do you want this to be for you?” And then guide her to acquire the necessary skills so it can be.
All this requires a growth mindset, and I don’t mean the empty platitudes pervasive amongst educational bureaucrats. I am referring to a growth mindset defined by consistent practice, regular self-monitoring and reflection, and mindful application of feedback over an extended period of time. This process will inevitably lead to growth; it will also serve to enlighten the student whether or not pursuing the goal is “for” him. He might have the aptitude or the talent, but may be lacking interest. Or perhaps he has the passion but isn’t mature enough and needs other experiences before he can fully commit to the goal. Whatever the circumstances, educators need to be comfortable saying, “This isn’t for you.” But first we need to make sure that it could be, so that students have a shot at achieving their dreams.
If our goal, as a society, is to produce healthy, robust, happy citizens then we need to give them agency. Agency springs from independence. Independence is gained through confidence. Confidence is the outcome of competence. In trade schools, kids who are competent can pursue their interests and kids who are interested can become competent. (Ultimately, we want them to enthusiastically excel in a given field, but being competent is a good starting point).
Trade schools have a bad rap and, over the years, have been both used as a dumping ground for underperforming students and phased out in an effort to focus on “academic rigor” so we can send every kid to college. But not every kid wants to go to college, nor does he need to. A good trade school can provide young people with an excellent education and instill invaluable skills through theory and internships. In trade schools, students learn how to do things, and then they do them. Trade school is for the courageous student who knows that there are real consequences to success and failure; a cosmetologist might damage the client’s skin, a plumber might flood the house. By building skills through repeated application of knowledge, a teenager in trade school can become a craftsman—a professional with an honorable trade, a sense of pride, and the confidence to pursue his or her dreams (and as my friend Liz points out, a creative problem-solver who taps into prior experiences and applies them in novel ways when needed—to support, fix, solve, improvise, and improve the systems in which she/he was trained).
And their dreams do matter, especially during middle school, when students are reaching developmental milestones relating to independence. One effective way to harness the power of agency is by offering students good, meaningful, and worthwhile options. Coupling student choice with positive peer pressure provides a foundation for responsible decision making—not to mention goal setting, time management, and self-regulation. When young people know they will be charged with weighty responsibilities, it might prove impetus enough to engage earlier in math and reading proficiency. Letters and numbers will become consequential, and this will create a new culture. No longer will students be satisfied with just passing the test. Their futures will depend not on a diploma, but on skillful application and integrity. And if they need more time to practice, they can pursue an extended apprenticeship. Unlike the current educational model that paces students according to arbitrary semesters and pushes students through graduation despite skill deficits, trade schools can inhabit a new space. In this educational paradigm, a student is ready only after demonstrating proficiency—nay, MASTERY! With mentors to guide them through all means of challenge, a student in trade school can live a rewarding life (arguably better with more purpose and alignment than a university graduate with a degree in economics/human sexuality/art history who works part-time as a barista for lack of viable employment options in her field of study).
And so, we need to be offering more alternative trade schools and holding these students to higher standards. Because the stakes are higher. Misreading a line of Shakespeare is not the end of the world, but a medical assistant who misreads a patient’s chart might very well cause irreparable harm. Hence the need for students to determine whether college or trade school is “for” them, so they can “find the freedom to do work that matters.”
Find the balance. 