Last night I attended a concert. As I sat and marveled at the skill of the musicians (and cursed my parents for never encouraging me to learn an instrument) I thought about how much time, perseverance, and commitment it takes to be truly great at one thing. I never gave one area of interest that laser focus. I was a decent athlete, a good student, and a pretty good actor. As a young man I was content to be a “Jack of all trades, master of none.” I look back and think I was well-rounded, but wonder what direction my life might have taken had I put all of my energy into a single pursuit? As an older person, I wonder what the right course of action is as a parent when it comes to my own kids or an educator when it comes to nurturing the interests of students.
Years ago I had a student who struggled. My teachers were frustrated by what they deemed lack of effort and interest on his part. They believed he was under-achieving. He was a musician, a drummer, and I would see him perform with the school bands and I thought he was good. Then came the school talent show and my jaw dropped when he played with classmates in a garage band. He wasn’t talented, he was gifted. He channeled the majority of his focus into drumming and the results were electric. He could’ve been on that stage last night. But academically, he suffered. That was the price of hyper-focus in one area.
Are there, then, two types of people: those who are pretty good at a lot of different things and those who are brilliant at only one? Should we mentor our children to be one or the other? Clearly there are pros and cons on both sides. Singular attention to one aspect of life potentially isolates one from other people and other sources of joy. There may be a certain loneliness in genius (if the bio-pics of celebrated geniuses are to be believed). Perhaps not, if one is able to connect with other like-minded, like-gifted souls, as evidenced by the band last night, or a team of athletes like my beloved Cubbies.
On the flip side, experiences in a variety of settings, artistic, athletic, intellectual, or social give us a broad perspective of the world and the people who toil within it. Do those of us non-specialists have a greater empathy or understanding of people and matters outside our direct spheres of experience? These are no doubt broad generalizations and there certainly exist non-specialists who enjoy a great deal of success and accomplishment just as there are specialists who appreciate and dabble in other aspects of life. After all, Shaquille O’Neal made a movie and Michael Bolton went to spring training. I claim no expertise in these matters, nor am I a trained sociologist (I just play one on TV). However, I wonder, again as a parent and educator, in which direction to encourage/advise the young people I’m responsible for.
Cultural Editorial: I started to write a post about the current national anthem brouhaha, but felt I was veering into tricky territory. As a principal, as an educator, I have influence, however small it may be, and I remain cautious about sharing political opinion. I did, however, want to share this quote from the film, “The American President,” because I think it’s an apt civics lesson.
America isn’t easy. America is advanced citizenship. You gotta want it bad, ’cause it’s gonna put up a fight. It’s gonna say “You want free speech? Let’s see you acknowledge a man whose words make your blood boil, who’s standing center stage and advocating at the top of his lungs that which you would spend a lifetime opposing at the top of yours. You want to claim this land as the land of the free? Then the symbol of your country can’t just be a flag; the symbol also has to be one of its citizens exercising his right to burn that flag in protest. Show me that, defend that, celebrate that in your classrooms. Then, you can stand up and sing about the “land of the free”. – Michael Douglas as President Andrew Shepherd