The Devastating Impact of ‘The Box’

How We Keep Our Children From Becoming Their Best

The Box

I believe one of the most horrific, detrimental things we have done to children, which they carry into adulthood as it shapes their very destiny, is our creation of “the box” in which we regard everyone in it normal and everyone outside of it not normal.

My Different Child

It took my having a “different” child to really see this and to grasp the devastating effects. And even then, I didn’t see it until later than I wish. My son hated his school work. Almost all of it. But what he did love was drawing. He was a natural-born artist. I saw it from a very early age. And when I say he is a brilliant artist, well, I’ll show you:

My son drew this with colored pencils only, at age 14.

The very part of his brain that made him so creative “short circuited” other parts of his brain which made it difficult for him academically.

He was a genius, but I was measuring him with the tiny little measuring stick most of society uses to determine success. He is now successful, by the way, and functioning beautifully.

The box theory

I recently read a book that helped me put the finishing touches on the theory I have long held.

I think the traditional classroom and it’s appendages of expectations bears the greatest responsibility in establishing this paradigm of “normal” vs. “not normal” but we have all, everyone of us, played our part effectively.

That theory? Society (where myth has begotten myth in the machine of the educational system) has far too narrow a definition of success and often cuts the legs out from under so many children with said definition.

Even as a I type this, my heart physically hurts to think of it, to know how many bright, brilliant, gifted and different children have had their entire existences truncated (at best) because everyone told them they didn’t measure up, when in fact, they measured perfectly, just as they were created to. Not less, just different.

Let them be who they are

And as I have slowly come to terms with the reality of what we’ve done, my face has streamed with tears, from the source of regret, to know I have even played a part, unknowingly, in expectations that communicated disappointment to a child desperately trying to be something he is not, stretching and reaching to be who God made him to be, but always feeling he falls short.

I taught high school English and even wrote A letter of apology to a former high school student in an attempt to redeem the kids I have hurt.

An example of how we label a child:

Child A is a good reader. He loves going to the library and sits for hours and reads. Child B doesn’t like to read. In fact, he sighs and gets anxious over any of his school work. Maybe it doesn’t click with him and it’s confusing.

Maybe what you’re trying to get him to read/learn is just plain boring to him and he has other interests he’s dying to dive into. Whether they are in a classroom setting or even a homeschool setting, our tendency is to treat one as “the good student.” And if that is as far as our prejudices are verbalized, the other child knows he is the “bad” one.

“Sit still, pay attention, get good grades, jump through the hoops, so you can go to college and get a good job and have a fulfilled life.”

Everyone knows what good students do.

But what about the others? The artists? The mechanics? The inventors? The entrepreneurs? The ones who think outside the box and disturb our systems and formulas? Some of them manage to suppress their differences enough to eek by with their creativeness and self esteems in tact.

But many others don’t. And their potential is squashed or badly hindered. They grow up feeling not just different, but feeling they aren’t enough because they can’t do math like the others or they can’t sit still and focus as long as the others.

And tragically, so very tragically, we give them the message over and over:

“You’re not good enough, you’ll never be good enough.” How? We praise the one and frown on the other, we celebrate the one and sigh over the other, never stopping to see there may be more to becoming educated than a black and white result that can only be measured on paper.

I wonder if even our attempts at encouraging excellence simultaneously insults the other one who is excellent in the gifts that happen not to be as loudly applauded? I’m not talking here about laziness and an “everyone gets a trophy” mentality. But rather, recognizing that academic prowess is ONLY ONE demonstration of brilliance and potential, yet we magnify it above all others.

Albert Einstein said:

“Everybody is a genius. But if you judge a fish by its ability to climb a tree, it will live its whole life believing that it is stupid.”

Let thank sink in.

Maybe we could try looking harder and see that some differences widely held as contrary to success, may in fact hold a secret store of potential, waiting to be unlocked by someone who sees it. Can we be the one who stands with them and defends the idea–even in their own minds–that they are not less-than because they’re different?

Our children are so vastly different, with so many gifts and interests and passions, how did we ever think we could streamline them to fit neatly into the same little box? And why do we try? What an incredible advantage has the child whose parents celebrate him for exactly his uniqueness, giving him as many accolades for his intense pursuit of culinary arts as they give the other for his mastery of Physics.

Let’s do better.

Check out my book, Think Outside the Classroom: A Practical Approach to Relaxed Homeschooling

I’m a Christian, a wife, a homeschooling mom of 11. I have several published books, have been featured on a number of podcasts, and have spoken around the US and Canada at homeschool conferences. Catch me on Facebook or visit my site.

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