Speech I Gave at MI Honors Banquet, April 2008

I feel honored to be chosen as the representative from the MI staff to get the privilege of addressing the students, parents, and guests here tonight. I’ve written about five totally different speeches for this, mainly because as I’d begin writing, I’d realize that there was something even more important I wanted to share. It would be appropriate to pat the students on the back, say some congratulatory things, then sit down. And all the MI teachers do want everyone to know how proud we are of the students sitting here tonight. Their hard work and dedication is evident, and it’s wonderful to celebrate that.

While I was mentally meandering, though, I found myself in a couple of different conversations that all tied together in a weird synchronicity, and I realized what I wanted to say. It's simple, and obvious: we must believe the things we teach our children. That’s how Woodrow Wilson said it, and I couldn't think of any better wording. We must believe the things we teach our children. Of course. Furthermore, if we’ve done our jobs well, you’ll know what we believe about education, why we value it, and—hopefully—you will have considered how those beliefs apply to you.

So what do believe—and what does MI believe? Since this is the school of multiple intelligences, I could take the easy way out (insert first line of Whitney Houston I believe that children are out future). I could do that—but I’m not going to. That's not really what I think needs said, so instead I want tell you what I hope these students are really learning from my colleagues and myself.

Here’s the a priori, the baseline, belief: The world you will live most of your life in is not here yet, and it will be different than the world now. We need to teach you how to think and how to learn so you’re ready for the world we can’t imagine at this point. The changes in my lifetime have been amazing; we can’t begin to guess what skills and information you’re going to need to thrive in the world 40 years from now. But we believe that people who can read and write, who can think critically and continually learn will succeed in that brave new world; that’s why MI is committed to focusing on literacy and critical thinking skills.

A related belief is this: curiosity is crucial. The ability to ask questions, to look at the world in wonder and awe---you need that. Little kids are curious about everything, asking a question a minute. Somehow, school kills curiosity. We get so busy meeting objectives and testing standards that students don’t learn to ask the questions they need to ask; they are too busy answering questions we choose for them. The reading and thinking skills we are working to teach you are meaningless if you don’t have curiosity to motivate you and direct you to use those skills.

Another quote I like encapsulates my third essential belief about learning: “You must do the thing you think you cannot do." That’s from Eleanor Roosevelt, who knew a few things about taking risks. If you always play it safe, if you always do the things you know you can do, there’s no learning curve. You’re in a rut, floundering in the doldrums. Trying something different may be scary, you may fail—but at least once in a while, you have to try. Consider the accomplishments you’re most proud of—did they come easily? Or did you struggle, out of your comfort zone, standing on the edge? I know that my most proud moments have also been my most nerve-wracking. It’s not a challenge if you know you can do it easily.

The last belief is possibly the most fundamental one of all: the most important lessons you need to learn and tasks you need to accomplish don’t include tests or grades. In real life, life after you finish your formal education, grades aren’t given. There is no honor roll for being a good parent, or for doing the laundry on time. Mr. McClellan won’t show up at your door with a trophy for getting up at 2 a.m. to feed a baby. Grades are a convenient yardstick for teachers and students to measure knowledge—but after you finish your schooling, there won’t be honors banquets and yearly applause for doing what you should do. Kids love to tell me they are grown—some of you in this room have insisted that, in fact—but until you can do what needs done without any fuss or fanfare, without the fear of a failing grade motivating you, you’re not an adult.

Grades are a by-product of learning, not a goal. Hopefully, you are here tonight because you’ve read interesting things, taken on challenging problems, asked hard questions and didn’t let go till you had some answers. Hopefully, we’ve taught you to value the process of learning, not the by-product of it—the grade. We’re proud of your accomplishments, and happy to celebrate your success. We want you to continue earning good grades—but we cross our fingers and wish on stars that once you’ve left our hallowed halls, the lessons you’ve learned from all your teachers here will transcend mere facts and figures. So congratulations—but you’ve only just begun.