For this you were born
10/10/14 04:33
OK here is a story that is at least third generation - perhaps more. I heard the basic story from a talk given by Sir Ken Robinson. The story is about Dame Gillian Lynne. Dame Lynne is now in her late ’80’s and still a force to be reckoned with in the world of dance and theatre. She is a British ballerina, dancer, choreographer, actress, and theatre/television director, noted for her popular theatre choreography associated with the musical Cats and the current longest running show in Broadway history, The Phantom of the Opera.
Hers it is a story worth re-telling. Let me see if I can get at least part of it right.
When she was a child of about ten, back in the 1930’s her mother was exasperated with a child who simply couldn’t sit still. Her restlessness was disrupting her schooling. Her teachers were frustrated. Her mother didn’t know what to do with her. I’m sure that today they would have diagnosed her with Attention Deficit/Hyperactivity Disorder (ADHD). But they didn’t have that diagnosis in those days, so that wasn’t an option for her. Her mother just couldn’t figure out what to do with her. Seeking some kind of solution to the problem, her mother took her to an eminent British physician who was a specialist in pediatrics. Her mother was hopeful that she might find some diagnosis that would explain why her daughter wasn’t learning at the same pace as her peers.
As I heard the story, the mother and daughter were escorted into a plush office where the eminent doctor sat behind the desk and interviewed them. Gillian was told to sit still in a large leather chair. And she tried so hard to sit still. After what seemed to her to be a long conversation, the doctor said that he needed to step out into the hallway with to talk to her mother. He instructed Gillian to sit still in the chair and on his way out of the room he turned on a radio tuned to a music channel.
What Gillian didn’t know is that he took her mother out into the hall and instructed her to look through the slightly open door. As soon as they left the room, the girl got up an danced around the room. Then she stood on the chair and danced. She stood on the desk an danced. She twirled and kept and pirouetted all around the office.
Her mother was slightly embarrassed and began to apologize to the doctor for her daughter’s behavior. The doctor interrupted her and said, “Don’t you know what you are seeing?” There is nothing wrong with your daughter. She was born to dance. Go get her dance lessons and everything will be fine.
The rest, as they say, is history. Gillian is one of the grand dames of dance, world famous, a millionaire and fabulously successful. The way I heard the story she is quick to say that she simply cannot think sitting still. She has to dance to think.
I knew that story before I ever heard it. I knew it because I am the father of a dancer. When teachers told me that she was having trouble with arithmetic, I knew that she could dance from a 4/4 rhythm to a 6/8 rhythm and back again without missing a beat. When I was told she couldn’t focus her attention, I knew that she could identify composers of classical music by their pieces before she went to school. When she was only 2 years old we moved into a neighborhood where there was a small dance studio at the end of our street. We used to walk past the studio as we walked her brother to and from school. She was attracted to the window in that small shop like steel to a magnet. She asked us to sign her up for lessons. We told her she was too young. They didn’t have classes for girls her age. She campaigned to have dance lessons and as soon as she was old enough she got them.
She danced her way through school and into her college years. A couple of knee injuries kept her from pursuing a career in dance, but there is no doubt in my mind that she was born to dance.
And if she was born to dance, I know kids who were born to play the piano and others who were born to play soccer and others who were born to go fishing. Maybe there are kids who were born to play video games, thought I have no expertise on how you would identify that child.
The point is that when we aren’t careful, we run the risk of labeling someone as unable to learn when all that is going on is that the person thinks differently than we do.
I’m pretty sure that none of my high school teachers would have identified me as a good student. I did get an A in geometry. It was the year I was studying for my private pilot’s license and geometry and navigation had a lot of the same principles. After high school, I still didn’t know that I was a good student. I was admitted to college on academic probation. It took me a while to discover that I was a pretty good student. By the time I made it to my senior year in college, I was hooked. I loved college. I loved graduate school. I love reading and researching and studying to this day. The best thing about college for me was discovering that I was a good student and that I never have to quit studying. Maybe I was born to be a student.
I will forever be grateful that I didn’t get labeled as a poor student when I was in high school.
I remain forever committed to not labeling the high school students with whom I come into contact. Even when they are in their twenties, many young people haven’t yet fully discovered who they are and what they are called to do with their lives.
When they seem to be a bit confused, lost and uncertain, I try to remember to tell them the story of Gillian Lynne and hope that they can see a bit of themselves in the story.
Hers it is a story worth re-telling. Let me see if I can get at least part of it right.
When she was a child of about ten, back in the 1930’s her mother was exasperated with a child who simply couldn’t sit still. Her restlessness was disrupting her schooling. Her teachers were frustrated. Her mother didn’t know what to do with her. I’m sure that today they would have diagnosed her with Attention Deficit/Hyperactivity Disorder (ADHD). But they didn’t have that diagnosis in those days, so that wasn’t an option for her. Her mother just couldn’t figure out what to do with her. Seeking some kind of solution to the problem, her mother took her to an eminent British physician who was a specialist in pediatrics. Her mother was hopeful that she might find some diagnosis that would explain why her daughter wasn’t learning at the same pace as her peers.
As I heard the story, the mother and daughter were escorted into a plush office where the eminent doctor sat behind the desk and interviewed them. Gillian was told to sit still in a large leather chair. And she tried so hard to sit still. After what seemed to her to be a long conversation, the doctor said that he needed to step out into the hallway with to talk to her mother. He instructed Gillian to sit still in the chair and on his way out of the room he turned on a radio tuned to a music channel.
What Gillian didn’t know is that he took her mother out into the hall and instructed her to look through the slightly open door. As soon as they left the room, the girl got up an danced around the room. Then she stood on the chair and danced. She stood on the desk an danced. She twirled and kept and pirouetted all around the office.
Her mother was slightly embarrassed and began to apologize to the doctor for her daughter’s behavior. The doctor interrupted her and said, “Don’t you know what you are seeing?” There is nothing wrong with your daughter. She was born to dance. Go get her dance lessons and everything will be fine.
The rest, as they say, is history. Gillian is one of the grand dames of dance, world famous, a millionaire and fabulously successful. The way I heard the story she is quick to say that she simply cannot think sitting still. She has to dance to think.
I knew that story before I ever heard it. I knew it because I am the father of a dancer. When teachers told me that she was having trouble with arithmetic, I knew that she could dance from a 4/4 rhythm to a 6/8 rhythm and back again without missing a beat. When I was told she couldn’t focus her attention, I knew that she could identify composers of classical music by their pieces before she went to school. When she was only 2 years old we moved into a neighborhood where there was a small dance studio at the end of our street. We used to walk past the studio as we walked her brother to and from school. She was attracted to the window in that small shop like steel to a magnet. She asked us to sign her up for lessons. We told her she was too young. They didn’t have classes for girls her age. She campaigned to have dance lessons and as soon as she was old enough she got them.
She danced her way through school and into her college years. A couple of knee injuries kept her from pursuing a career in dance, but there is no doubt in my mind that she was born to dance.
And if she was born to dance, I know kids who were born to play the piano and others who were born to play soccer and others who were born to go fishing. Maybe there are kids who were born to play video games, thought I have no expertise on how you would identify that child.
The point is that when we aren’t careful, we run the risk of labeling someone as unable to learn when all that is going on is that the person thinks differently than we do.
I’m pretty sure that none of my high school teachers would have identified me as a good student. I did get an A in geometry. It was the year I was studying for my private pilot’s license and geometry and navigation had a lot of the same principles. After high school, I still didn’t know that I was a good student. I was admitted to college on academic probation. It took me a while to discover that I was a pretty good student. By the time I made it to my senior year in college, I was hooked. I loved college. I loved graduate school. I love reading and researching and studying to this day. The best thing about college for me was discovering that I was a good student and that I never have to quit studying. Maybe I was born to be a student.
I will forever be grateful that I didn’t get labeled as a poor student when I was in high school.
I remain forever committed to not labeling the high school students with whom I come into contact. Even when they are in their twenties, many young people haven’t yet fully discovered who they are and what they are called to do with their lives.
When they seem to be a bit confused, lost and uncertain, I try to remember to tell them the story of Gillian Lynne and hope that they can see a bit of themselves in the story.