the pygmalion effect

Teach For America has us do a 5-week training course, which they call "Institute" before we're sent off to our placement regions. They've also assigned some pre-Institute work that I recently decided I should probably start to work on.

So far, it's all been really interesting material. It's making me reexamine my own preconceived notions about children of color and children who come from low-income backgrounds. I'm sure the personal reflection I've done has only uncovered the tip of the bias-iceberg in my being; I'm almost certain I won't realize how deeply rooted some of my biases are until I actually confront some of them in a real-world setting, e.g. the classroom.

Something I wanted to share was an excerpt by educational researcher and sociologist, Sonia Nieto, referring to a study conducted by Rosenthal and Jacobson, which completely changed (or should have changed) the way educators approach their teaching style:

The term self-fulfilling prophecy, coined by Merton in 1948, means that students perform in ways in which teachers expect. Their performance is based on subtle and sometimes not so subtle messages from teachers about students’ worth, intelligence, and capability. The term did not come into wide use until 1968, when the classic study by Rosenthal and Jacobson provided the impetus for subsequent extensive research on the subject. In this study, several classes of children in grades one through six were given a nonverbal intelligence test (the researchers called it the “Harvard Test of Influenced Acquisition”), which researchers claimed would measure the students’ potential for intellectual growth. Twenty percent of the students were randomly selected by the researchers as “intellectual bloomers,” and their names were given to the teachers. Although their test scores actually had nothing at all to do with their potential, the teachers were told to be on the alert for signs of intellectual growth among these particular children. Overall these children, particularly in the lower grades, showed considerably greater gains in IQ during the school year than did the other students. They were also rated by their teachers as being more interesting, curious, and happy, and thought to be more likely to succeed later in life.

In thinking over this excerpt, I took things beyond just educational expectations we set for children and began to wonder how often I limit myself because of my own low expectations for myself or even worse, how often I limit those people in my life because of my low expectations for them (or complete lack thereof). The weight of this strikes me pretty forcefully because I am usually such a pessimist (something I've really tried to work on these past several years). Now I'm wondering how often my pessimism has not only been just irritating, but how often my pessimism has led me to expect the worst of people and hindered their true capacities for personal growth.

In relation to all of these thoughts, I do want to mention the idea of genuineness--the teachers in the Rosenthal and Jacobson study really believed that these "gifted" students were bound for success. Their belief that these students would succeed was a genuine one that led them to act in a certain way. I don't want to merely profess to believe that I have high expectations of my (future) students and the current people in my life. I think this is an important distinction because unlike belief, profession of something is no guarantee to action. In fact, I would say that merely professing, especially in regards to something like this, would do more harm than good.

Identifying realities like these is the "easy" part; it's the changing part that's difficult.

design in a banana

This semester in Philosophy of Religion, we've really been getting down in the nitty-gritty of arguments for (and against) the existence of God. One of the classic arguments (and a personal favorite, probably due to its influence in my own life) for is the argument from design (also known as the teleological argument). In a very, very tight nutshell, it is based on the examination of the nature of the world around us. One of its main premises is that the world is too complex and too orderly to have been produced by chance or random change. It's this argument that hits me in the face every time I sit down to study for any of my biology courses, every time I look out a window, every time I'm riding home on my bike late at night, when the moon and stars shine on above me, and countless other "every time..."

In the book of Romans, the Apostle Paul sums the argument up as follows:

"For what can be known about God is plain to them, because God has shown it to them. For his invisible attributes, namely, his eternal power and divine nature, have been clearly perceived, ever since the creation of the world, in the things that have been made. So they are without excuse. For although they knew God, they did not honor him as God or give thanks to him, but they became futile in their thinking, and their foolish hearts were darkened." (Romans 1: 19-20).

Paul argues from design, saying that the entire natural world bears witness to God through its beauty, complexity, design, and usefulness. No one should complain that God has left insufficient evidence of his existence and character; the evidence is all around us!

My sister made mention of a funny, yet telling incident of how design frequently hits us in the face. She said that the other day, Dad was eating a banana in the kitchen, when he looked down at the banana while peeling it and said, "Should be have a God; no one can make such a good dessert."

My dad still waivers on the issue of the existence of God, but very frequently, says things like this. For me, I frequently have my own seasons of doubt and questioning, but among several other things (not the least of which is the sheer grace of God), the world around me leaves me unable for any extended season, to truly deny the existence of God. And I think, if people would really take the time to examine their own hearts and sort through their own thoughts, they couldn't either.

pot roast

note to self: NEVER buy ready-made pot roast.

molasses

In one of my ethics courses, we're reading Immanual Kant's, Ethical Philosophy. I've always found Kant to be the most difficult philosophical writer to get through. Today in class, Professor Willard aptly compared reading Kant to "trying to run in cold molasses that is up to your hips." For now until forever, I'll have that imagery burned into my mind while reading Kant.

"Satan would have us prove ourselves holy by the law, which God gave to prove us sinners."

Andrew Jukes

a kingdom that cannot be shaken

"Let us be grateful for receiving a kingdom that cannot be shaken, and thus let us offer to God acceptable worship, with reverence and awe."

Hebrews 12:28

The Gift of Life

Tonight we had a celebration! Tonight we celebrated and rejoiced in the fact that a year and a half ago, Jennie was diagnosed with a grade IV glioblastoma, and today she is finished with chemotherapy and is alive and doing well. Jennie is doing so well that she's actually graduating in May after being out of school for nearly a year!!

I think it's been easy for me to miss the sheer amazingness of it all--to miss the bountiful blessings that God has so generously poured out. The Lord has used Jennie tremendously in my life; he has used her to show me and to reveal to me so many things. Through her life and through her tribulations, I have learned of the immense frailty of this life. I have learned of the immense evil and suffering of this life. And I have learned of the surpassing greatness of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord.

Jennie's life has caused me to reflect on my own life more than any other life aside from that of Jesus Christ. You have moved my heart in ways that only Jesus can and will ever truly know. This is a post for you, Jennie! I love you and am so thankful to God for you!