What's up with Quinn?

Like Ms. Asile, I immediately noticed the loud, expressive, active boy named Quinn. My mind quickly compared him to other students I have had in the past who have displayed similar behaviors - some of the students that I struggle the most with. As a teacher, the growing volume of his song and the disaster of peanut butter on the table would have left me embarrassed in front of these visitors to my classroom. For years, I have learned - classically and officially - that students should not act that way in a classroom, especially if the teacher is talking to another important adult.

But Bill has a different perspective. Though his squinted mouth and head scratch in the bottom panel of page 17 reveal some uncertainty, it is clear that he approaches Quinn with an asset-based lens.

Bill names Quinn’s activity as “youthful exuberance” (p. 16) and realizes that “he’s just putting things together in his own way” (p. 17).

So what is Quinn learning?

Depends on who you ask.

Ms. Asile would say that Quinn isn’t learning anything. She even goes so far as to send a note home that says Quinn is “hypoactive disordered” (p. 30), which she believes is already interfering  with his ability to succeed in school. From her perspective, she must help new teachers identify those students who seem to be struggling and give them the help that they need.

On the other hand, Bill would say that Quinn is learning so much. From Bill’s perspective, Quinn has learned that he is an artist (p. 14), that he has an important role in the classroom as plant waterer (p. 27), that he is a leader in fort making (p. 28), and that he has learned the importance of taking responsibility when an accident happens (p. 30). Bill, like Frank Smith, believes that kids are always learning. Rather than seek outside help and alphabet soup labels from Ms. Asile, Bill says, “the answers lie in the students’ hands. We must look unblinkingly at the way children really are and struggle to make sense of everything we see in order to teach them” (p.26). Rather than giving students anything, we need to see what they already have.  

This reading was a reminder that what we see depends on how we look at things. Our assessment of a student is colored by the lens that we use. Does Quinn fit the diagnosis of someone with ADD? Probably. In fact, Ms. Asile is probably really good at identifying kids who would be labeled as having learning disorders. That’s the lens she is using. That’s the perspective she is coming from. However, as Frank Smith and Bill would point out, that’s not the only way of looking at students. Bill says that “while working together, we need to learn to see each other as fully as possible” (p. 27)

My immediate reaction to Quinn shows that I need to continue to be aware of the way my perspective and experience affect my approach to a situation. I grew up as a much more reserved kid. I sat quietly at my desk, raised my hand if I had a question, and always did what I was told. I have a hard time working with those students who are/were most unlike me - the ones push back against “doing school.” While I don’t think that description quite fits Quinn, I do know I would have to work hard to figure out what works for him. I know I would have to find ways to use his energy for good and ensure that I was not (unintentionally) punishing his creative spirit. I'm excited for this case study as a way to see what the students are learning rather than what they are not, and seeing each one as fully as possible.

And here is an quick, interesting video by Derek Sivers, reminding us about some of the assumptions we fail to realize we have...