Implications for the Classroom

Implications for the Classroom

I admit I felt like a bit of a Grinch as I wrote this chapter, as though I had a scowl on my face as I typed "wrong, wrong, wrong" about the optimistic ideas others have offered regarding student differences. As I stated at the start of the chapter, I am not saying that teachers should not differentiate instruction. I hope and expect that they will. But when they do so, they should know that scientists cannot offer any help. It would be wonderful if scientists had identified categories of students along with varieties of instruction best suited to each category, but after a great deal of effort, they have not found such types, and I, like many others, suspect they don't exist. I would advise teachers to treat students differently on the basis of the teacher's experience with each student and to remain alert for what works. When differentiating among students, craft knowledge trumps science.

That said, I do have some positive thoughts on what all of this means for your classroom.

Think in Terms of Content, Not in Terms of Students

Learning-style theories don't help much when applied to students, but I think they are useful when applied to content. Take the visual-auditory-kinesthetic distinction. You might want students to experience material in one or another modality depending on what you want them to get out of the lesson; a diagram of Fort Knox should be seen, the national anthem of Turkmenistan should be heard, and the cheche turban (used by Saharan tribes to protect themselves against sun and wind) should be worn. The distinctions in Table 1 provide a number of interesting ways to think about lesson plans: Do you want students to think deductively during a lesson, or to free-associate creatively? Should they focus on similarities among concepts they encounter, or should they focus on the details that differentiate those concepts? Table 1 may help you to focus on what you hope your students will learn from a lesson and how to help them get there.

Change Promotes Attention

Every teacher knows that change during a lesson invigorates students and refocuses their attention. If the teacher has been doing a lot of talking, something visual (a video or a map) offers a welcome change. Table 1 provides a number of ways to think about change during the course of a lesson. If the students' work has demanded a lot of logical, deductive thinking, perhaps an exercise that calls for broad, associative thinking is in order. If their work has required many rapid responses, perhaps they should do another task that calls for thoughtful, measured responses. Rather than individualizing the required mental processes for each student, give all of your students practice in all of these processes, and view the transitions as an opportunity for each student to start fresh and refocus his or her mental energies.

There Is Value in Every Child, Even If He or She Is Not "Smart in Some Way"

I am willing to bet you have heard someone say, "Every student is intelligent in some way," or ask students to identify "What kind of smart are you?" I think teachers say this in an effort to communicate an egalitarian attitude to students: everyone is good at something. But there are a couple of reasons to be leery of this attitude. First, this sort of statement rubs me the wrong way because it implies that intelligence brings value. Every child is unique and valuable, whether or not they are intelligent or have much in the way of mental ability. I admit that being the father of a severely mentally retarded child probably makes me sensitive on this issue. My daughter is not intelligent in any sense of the word, but she is a joyful child who brings a lot of happiness to a lot of people.

Second, it's not necessarily the case that every child is smart in some way. The exact percentage of children who are "smart" would depend on how many intelligences you define and whether "smart" means "top 10 percent" or "top 50 percent," and so on. It doesn't much matter—there will always be some kids who are in fact not especially gifted in any of the intelligences. In my experience, telling kids that they have a skill they don't possess seldom works. (If a child is briefly fooled, her peers are usually happy to bring reality crashing down on her head.)

Third, for reasons I describe in the next chapter, it is never smart to tell a child that she's smart. Believe it or not, doing so makes her less smart. Really.

Don't Worry—and Save Your Money

If you have felt nagging guilt that you have not evaluated each of your students to assess their cognitive style, or if you think you know what their styles are and have not adjusted your teaching to them—don't worry about it. There is no reason to think that doing so will help. And if you were thinking of buying a book or inviting someone in for a professional development session on one of these topics, I advise you to save your money.

If "cognitive styles" and "multiple intelligences" are not helpful ways to characterize how children differ, what's a better way? Why do some children seem to breeze through mathematics while others struggle? Why do some children love history, or geography? The importance of background knowledge has come up again and again in this book. In Chapter One I argued that background knowledge is an important determinant of what we find interesting; for example, problems or puzzles that seem difficult but not impossible pique our interest. In Chapter Two I explained that background knowledge is an important determinant of much of our success in school. Cognitive processes (such as analyzing, synthesizing, and critiquing) cannot operate alone. They need background knowledge to make them work.

Still, background knowledge is not the only difference between students. There is something to the idea that some students are simply really clever. In the next chapter I explore that idea, and I focus on what we can do to maximize the potential of all students, regardless of how clever they are.