What does it look like?

"Every child deserves to learn something new every day." This statement was made in 1998 by Del Siege, the National Association for Gifted Children Program Chair and President. Actually, Del's entire quote was: "Every child including those who are gifted and talented deserves to learn something new every day. Every child - including high ability learners - deserves to be challenged, and to receive guidance and support in the development of his or her potential." I like the shorter version, though, because it makes the core of the sentiment more clear. Every child means every child.


I have been an educator for 25 years. I have worked with many different populations, many different ages, and with many different content areas. My commitment is to the marginalized, the underserved, the kid in the corner who no one pays attention to because he's too smart, too shy, too slow, too sad. Or the other kid in the other corner, who everyone pays attention to, because he is loud and annoying, because he is distracting, because his attempts at making friends are ham-handed, and he has no idea why they are not successful.


In my life as a teacher, this marginalization has always been the great equalizer when it came to deciding which students to advocate for. As a college freshman, I chose special education as the topic for my "big" research paper in Composition and Rhetoric. This was in 1984, and PL94-142--the Education for All Handicapped Children Act, now the Individuals with Disabilities Education Act (IDEA)--was not ten years old. I went on to work with special education students, with at-risk students, with English-Language Learners, with adult college students, and with gifted students. 


Within all of these populations, I found two striking points of commonality. First, marginalization crosses all boundaries. Being a part of a certain population does not define a student as marginalized, but nor does it insulate any student from marginalization. Secondly, when a student--no matter who, no matter where--learns something new, it looks exactly the same.  A high-school senior with an IQ of 160 and a nonverbal seven-year-old with Autism? Yes, exactly the same. The joy, the gain, the almost audible click inside the brain and "aha!" inside the heart are exactly the same, no matter what. 


Every child does indeed deserve that experience, at least once a day. Not every day may see the big, transformative, "I finally figured it out!" moments, but the opportunity must be there. Teachers and administrators must provide the open spaces, the challenges, the questions without easy answers, and the concepts almost-but-not-quite out of reach. I can't imagine any teacher or parent that would disagree with this statement. But the trick is that not every child's reach is the same, and that is where the conversation becomes murky.


Next: What exactly is equity?