As a home-educator, I feel as though I’ve learnt more about various teaching philosophies than the average parent. I’ve learnt about Steiner education, experimented with Charlotte Mason, dabbled in unschooling, and reviewed the principles of the Classical method.
I don’t adhere to any one method. Instead, I take an eclectic approach, drawing out the principles that I feel suit my family.
One of the methods that I have drawn from extensively is Montessori. We have a learning tower in our kitchen, we encourage real world learning, and we often pull out our moveable alphabet. A few months ago, I even went to the source and read The Absorbent Mind, Maria Montessori’s own book. While I didn’t agree with all of it, and there were some ideas that definitely wouldn’t fly today, there were plenty of enlightening moments for me.
In particular, one thing that I had never really considered before was the idea of not correcting children. Montessori sagely notes that many would question “How can we improve the children’s work if we do not correct the errors?”. However, she does go on to explain that when teachers remove themselves from the role of hovering over children to point out their errors, the child is empowered to grow by correcting their own errors. For example, when a child is learning to walk, they don’t need us to point out every time that they fall. They are already inclined to move towards progressive improvement, without us pointing out everything they are doing wrong.
Yet while it is easy to step back and ignore errors at an early age, it is much harder to hold back from offering correction as our children grow.
However, our corrections, no matter how gentle, can have unintended consequences.
“What I have heard from creative people over the years is that their early urges toward unique self-expression were respected and supported by some loving adult in their young lives—someone who would even let them paint a tree blue if that’s what they felt like doing. When a friend of mine was a little boy, he liked to draw and paint a lot. One time he drew a tree and colored it blue, and some grownup said to him, “Why did you color a tree blue? Trees aren’t blue!” My friend didn’t draw a tree again for years ... not until one of his teachers told him that artists can make things any shape and any color they want.”
- Mr Rogers
We might think that we need to correct our kids when they write their name all in capital letters, or hold up 3 fingers instead of 4 when telling us their age, or when they colour a tree blue.
But what would happen if we didn’t?
Wouldn’t it be possible that they would learn for themselves given time?
Mightn’t they learn to identify errors on their own?
Is it possible that they would also be able to retain their creativity, and find joy in pushing boundaries and experimenting with new things?
I am certain that we can answer yes to all of the above.
Nevertheless, it is not only words of correction that can hamper a child’s creative process.
Words of praise can have a similar effect.
This works in two ways. When we praise our children’s accomplishments in a way that focuses on the outcome, we stifle their desires to work towards improvement. Similarly, when we offer praise that focuses on our children’s intelligence or abilities, such as by saying “you’re so smart”, “what a clever boy you are!”, they are actually less likely to stretch themselves and try new things. In fact, Carol Dweck, one of the leading researchers of growth mindsets, describes that children who have been praised for their intelligence or abilities develop a fixed mindset. And children with a fixed mindset are more likely to choose easy tasks and avoid challenges, because they don’t want to lose their label of being ‘smart’.
So what are we to do? No correction, no praise? What on earth are we meant to say next time our children show us their drawings?
Instead of correcting, or offering praise based on the outcome, try this:
- Narrate what you see. “I see that you have used lots of blue in this picture.”
- Ask for their opinion. “There’s a lot of different colours in this painting, can you tell me why you chose all those colours?”
- Praise the effort. “I really like this picture. You must have tried really hard to make it look so good.”
Our words matter.
By encouraging our children to focus on their efforts and their own appraisals of their work, we can help them develop a love of learning and creating and develop in them a willingness to take on new challenges.
Beck xx
I'd love to hear your thoughts! Are you struggling to break out of the “great job!” habit? Maybe you’re also wondering if you could possibly step back from correcting your kids? Let me know what you think, I’d love to hear from you!
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