Tuesday, August 17, 2010

In praise of free time

Every year at this time, the media rolls out the case for year-round school. This summer it was TIME, and just seeing the subject on the cover made me so angry I immediately tossed the magazine (which these days more resembles a pamphlet) into the trash. Trying to link to it now while attempting to avoid actually reading the article, I did notice that President Obama is said to support the concept. Well, bully for him. He was no doubt the model student, one of those goody-goody kids who actually liked school. For me, summer school would have just meant extending the agony.

It all started with pre-school, where I hated the stupid songs they made us sing. Later, school interfered with my reading in a big way, and my attempts to snitch glances at my books were met with frustration, even rage, on the part of my teachers—once, when I was so immersed I didn’t realize that reading period had turned into math period, my sixth grade teacher, Mr. Hampton, grabbed my book and threw it against the wall.

Reading “Deb’s” comment in the post below, about convincing students that success in art has to do with work rather than coming up with a gimmick, I’m again thinking about Malcolm Gladwell’s book, Outliers, in which he discusses the idea that it takes 10,000 hours to become a master—of anything. Even if you’re a kid, as Tiger Woods and many others have proved. Yet school doesn’t allow for that kind of concentration. Playing the piano for one hour, seven days a week, will get you mastery in 27 years; at five days a week, it’ll take 38 years (I’m almost there). But by that time you’d be as old as, well, me.

My brother spent every free moment in our basement with his ham radio equipment. By the time he was twelve, he was one of only a few kids his age in the country to earn a First Class Commercial Radio Operator’s License, and his first job was at a local FM radio station, which couldn’t legally function unless his thirteen-year-old self, or the adult equivalent, was on the premises. He didn’t study engineering in college—he saw no point in repeating what he already knew—but, regardless, was hired at graduation by IBM.

I can’t say I learned anything that specific in my copious free time—my interests changed frequently—but I did learn the value of sustained concentration and how to be my own best companion, qualities that come in handy as an artist.

Often the payoffs aren’t immediately obvious. Son Matt spent his high school summers (as I did, actually) working in a record shop in suburban Chicago. Like his father, Matt was an enthusiastic scholar, but it was the Record Exchange that provided the background for his professions as musician and music writer. Once, harking back to those days, I said to Matt something about his friend, D.V., also working there. “Mom,” Matt said, “D.V. didn’t work in the record shop; he just hung out there six hours a day.” Today, that seemingly slacker behavior and associated punk garb—especially in the fairly affluent city of Evanston—would no doubt terrify parents and teachers. However it turned out that D.V. among other things, ended up co-writing and co-producing (with John Cusack, who also spent quality time at the Record Exchange), and being music supervisor (one of the best soundtrack compilations ever) for "High Fidelity," (2000) the classic record shop film.

Parents often complain that their kids don’t know how to fill time on their own. My contention is that training for this begins in infancy. One of my rules as a young mother was to never unnecessarily interrupt my baby (or toddler, or child) if he was entertaining himself—any more than I’d disturb an adult who was “working.” My original motivation was completely selfish, because I thought by drawing out the time my sons were self-absorbed I’d have more to myself, but now I see its benefits for self-sufficiency and creativity.

I’m not against school—it has it’s place I suppose—and I’m all for summer programs for kids who need them.  I’m just saying that there are other ways to learn, and not always directed by adults, who often have an annoying way of asking, “What are you doing?” or worse, “What are you drawing?”  While my father, an engineer, did contribute to my brother’s development, the best thing our parents did for me was leave me alone.


Son Matt, back in the day, at the Record Exchange



10 comments:

James Lourie said...

I have been a teacher for more than 25 years and I have seen teaching as art decline. There is too much separation from our true selves and our teaching selves. Then we do the same to our students. We separate their selves. We destroy the creative wildness in them. Alice Miller talks about "poisonous pedagogy". Amen to that.

Unfortunately, this shaming and abuse continue outside of school, in politics, in the law, in churches, in society in general.

Carol Diehl said...

Thank you, James! I have been fortunate to teach in situations that allowed for freedom and flexibility. More respect for teachers and more pay would go a long way in improving education.

Anya said...

I couldn't agree more! Let our children have a chance at mastery! Childhood is the best time to start--I am starting my own homeschooling journey with my six year old for the very purpose of giving her the luxury of self-directed time and discovery. I have an art background as well--I am sister to your friend Lise. She liked this post and told me about it :) If you are interested, my blog is anyas-joyschool.blogspot.com

SDP said...

It doesn't have to all be bad ... although I agree, no summer school! I am fortunate to work in a school that fights back, guided by the leadership of a real visionary in education. Teachers come to my school to work hard, to support kids, to try to teach students how to question and open their minds to possibilities. If only there were be more places such as this.

Carol Diehl said...

Thanks, SDP! I was exaggerating a bit to make a point. When the encounter between teachers and students works--and I have experienced that as well--there's nothing more exhilarating!

Carol Diehl said...

Also Anya, so pleased to hear from you! You have been an inspiration via Lise.

Anya said...

Seems like we have some things in common :)

joannemattera@comcast.net said...

I love this post. When I was a kid, I spent all my free time with my two wonderful aunts who taught me how to do all the needle crafts they'd learned in Italy: sew, crochet, knit, make lace. I could embroider before I could write my name in cursive. Early on, without realizing it, I wove together the ideas that creativity sprang from a passion for materials and expression, that spending hours doing one thing was enjoyable and satisfying, and that making things was associated with unconditional love. That childhood experience is nothing like making one's way in the art world as an adult, but it was the matrix for what followed. Now if I could just find some time off. (And what's my word verification? Idlesse)

deb said...

we have been having an interesting summer around here because I am "letting" my adult son take a gap year between high school and college, people are confused by the fact that he wants to finish up a book he started writing before moving on to something else (maybe) and he would like to travel a little. He is working and contributing to the domestic economy and I don't see why this is odd. He is engaged, leave him alone!! As a teacher I increasingly find myself faced with students who lack internal direction and motivation, maybe more of them would benefit from a year of discovery than a year in my college classroom. I don't know, but it makes me sad that they need such constant direction in order to go looking for themselves. Maybe this is why so many of the artists in your next post are so self absorbed? Like Joanne, I could sew before I could read, and like you I snuck inappropriate books into class and read them during lessons because that was what I wanted to be doing!! And I don't need more pay, I'd just like a full time position instead of the almost full-time adjunct one I have now. OK enough ranting from me...

michelle muldrow said...

I relate to this post, my partner and I decided to do Montesorri for our son.We hope he will have a little more breathing room,outside of the regular school system, to discover his passions.I know I relate to Gladwell's book,I was making paintings, art, since I was very very young and escaped into art programs throughout my highschool years, all of this was a retreat from my surrounding world and I am so grateful there was no enforced structure to make me stop making art.All that downtime formed who I am.