July 23, 2014 at 2:10 p.m.

Old men and children and picture framing time (03/12/07)

As I See It

By By DIANA DOLECKI-

I was waiting my turn to have a picture framed. The framer was an older gentleman named Joe. He was applying glue to the edges of the frame when a little boy, who must have been about seven years old, came up behind him. The child stood inches away from Joe who immediately began to explain what he was doing. He even had the child touch the frame to see that it was sticky.

Joe applied a paper backing to the frame and began to cut away the excess. The child still hovered close by so Joe had him "help" by pulling away the extra paper that Joe had just trimmed. He then showed the boy the hangers and explained how he was applying them and demonstrated how he attached the wire to the hangers. In fact, he explained the entire process in words the child could understand without talking down to him. He looked straight at the boy the entire time he was talking. After the work was completed to Joe's satisfaction, the child wandered away and I complemented Joe on how well he handled the little guy.

Joe went on to explain that this was his last day at work because of health reasons. It was also the third time he had retired. He had been a car salesman and a teacher before taking up picture framing. He had a form of dyslexia and had done poorly in school. The laugh lines at the corners of his eyes and his gentle manner with the boy told me that he had done much better with real life.

This little encounter brought several things to mind. The first is, where in the world were the child's parents? Even if they were in sight of their son the entire time, the kid was far enough away that someone could have taken him if they wanted to. This was followed by wondering what kind of world we live in when a kid can't have a little independence without a stranger worrying about him.

I then wondered how someone with dyslexia and a poor school record ended up being a school teacher. I wondered what subject he had taught. I'll never know.

That led me to thinking about the odious practice of the no child left behind program that expects ability to be solely measured by standardized tests. Personally, I am excellent at written tests. Give me half a chance and I'll pass any written test you can give me. Notice the qualifier, "written." Expect me to pass a test of my ability to add air to my tires and I will fail. I simply cannot do it no matter how much I try and believe me, I have tried. There are people who view written tests the same way.

Written tests do not predict one's ability to succeed or fail at life after school. I know people who were lousy at schoolwork and are amazingly successful at the business of life. I also know dropouts whom I think are blithering idiots. I know people were at the tops of their classes and are unhappy, broke and still living with their mothers years later. Others are successful in their chosen professions and sail through life spreading happiness to all around them. As long as people know how to read, write and do simple arithmetic everything else is icing on the cake.

What grades do is demonstrate a person's ability to learn. Grades show the ability to regurgitate data in a way that pleases the teacher. There are no grades for getting along with people, common courtesy, simple manners or the ability to count change; all of which are far more useful than knowing the date of the battle of New Orleans (January 8, 1815) or the weight of a gallon of water (8.34 pounds).

Grades should be a true measure of ability, not some excuse to bolster someone's fragile self-esteem. When the entire class earns A's every grading period then the designation becomes meaningless.

I also wondered why someone who was retiring for the third time was still scarred by his having done poorly in school. After all, this man had clearly proven that he was a success at life. Who cares what grades he received so many years ago? Obviously he did.

I'd like to tell him that he earned an "A" in my book for restoring my faith in the kindness of strangers. Good job, Joe.[[In-content Ad]]
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