Genius is not enough.
Malcolm Gladwell, in his book “Outliers,” tells the story of two geniuses. Chris had an IQ that was off the charts. At 16 he read Bertrand Russell and Alfred North Whitehead’s Principia Mathematica. He had a perfect SAT score even if he fell asleep at one point during the the test. At 15 he could play the guitar like Jimi Hendrix. But today he lives on a farm, working on solutions to complex problems, but “almost none…had ever been published.” His “one in a million mind” has “yet to have any impact on the world.”
Robert was a genius just like Chris. He was studying physics and chemistry by fifth grade. At nine you could ask him a question in Latin and he could answer in Greek. Later he would lead the Manhattan Project, which developed the nuclear bomb that ended World War II. His full name is Robert Oppenheimer.
Gladwell tells about Lewis Terman’s study of geniuses. Terman found that out of 730 geniuses studied, only 20 percent were A’s (the success stories), 60 percent were B’s (“doing satisfactorily”) and 20 percent were C’s (had at least a high school diploma). What made the difference between the A’s and the C’s?
“They lacked something that could have been given to them if we’d only known they needed it: a community around them that prepared them properly for the world. The C’s were squandered talent. But they didn’t need be,” writes Gladwell.
Chris had a hard life. His father left before he was born. His stepfather was drunk and abusive. His school did not recognize his genius. His mother forgot to fill out a scholarship renewal form. He lost his scholarship. His college was not sympathetic. His car broke down because his brothers used it on the railroad tracks. He was willing to walk to class but the school would not change his schedule. He had a distrust of authority and could not talk his way out of his troubles. So he gave up.
Robert’s wealthy parents watched over his education carefully. On the way to the doctor his mother coached him how to ask questions about his body. So he was not intimidated by authority figures. But he was at one point emotionally unstable and tried to poison his tutor. Robert was in so many ways not qualified to be scientific director of the Manhattan Project – he did know the equipment, he was only 38 and had to manage other geniuses older than him, and he was a theorist, not an engineer. But Robert went after the position and turns the charm on Leslie Groves, the general in charge of Manhattan Project. After meeting Robert, Groves sings his praises and gives him the job.
A study by ethnographer Annette Lareau, “Unequal Childhoods: Class, Race, and Family Life” proposes that the difference in parenting by the rich/middle class and the poor have a lot to do with success. She advocates that we can serve the Chris’s of the world better (albeit he is an extreme example) if schools and teachers understood the kind of parenting they receive at home.
Most of us will have little or no encounters with geniuses like Robert and Chris. What we have though, will be plenty of encounters with flashes of genius. For many of our students, it takes ingenuity just to navigate the many daily obstacles in their life so they can come to school on time, in uniform, with a pen and paper. Being clean, well-fed, alert, relaxed and ready to learn takes a second flash of genius. As for materials for a homework, research or project, those would be in the “minor miracle” category, along with raising the hand to speak, getting along with peers, suggesting a new idea, asking for help understanding a lesson, avoiding bullies. If we understand anything from Terman’s studies, “genius” in these other practical areas are just as important in the future success of outliers like Robert Oppenheimer.
The great King David once said of his Lord in Psalm 18: “Your gentleness has made me great,” or, “you stoop down to make me great. You broaden the path beneath me, so that my ankles do not turn.”
Our days are lit by flashes of genius. And everyone needs someone to stoop down to make them great.
Robert was a genius just like Chris. He was studying physics and chemistry by fifth grade. At nine you could ask him a question in Latin and he could answer in Greek. Later he would lead the Manhattan Project, which developed the nuclear bomb that ended World War II. His full name is Robert Oppenheimer.
Gladwell tells about Lewis Terman’s study of geniuses. Terman found that out of 730 geniuses studied, only 20 percent were A’s (the success stories), 60 percent were B’s (“doing satisfactorily”) and 20 percent were C’s (had at least a high school diploma). What made the difference between the A’s and the C’s?
“They lacked something that could have been given to them if we’d only known they needed it: a community around them that prepared them properly for the world. The C’s were squandered talent. But they didn’t need be,” writes Gladwell.
Chris had a hard life. His father left before he was born. His stepfather was drunk and abusive. His school did not recognize his genius. His mother forgot to fill out a scholarship renewal form. He lost his scholarship. His college was not sympathetic. His car broke down because his brothers used it on the railroad tracks. He was willing to walk to class but the school would not change his schedule. He had a distrust of authority and could not talk his way out of his troubles. So he gave up.
Robert’s wealthy parents watched over his education carefully. On the way to the doctor his mother coached him how to ask questions about his body. So he was not intimidated by authority figures. But he was at one point emotionally unstable and tried to poison his tutor. Robert was in so many ways not qualified to be scientific director of the Manhattan Project – he did know the equipment, he was only 38 and had to manage other geniuses older than him, and he was a theorist, not an engineer. But Robert went after the position and turns the charm on Leslie Groves, the general in charge of Manhattan Project. After meeting Robert, Groves sings his praises and gives him the job.
A study by ethnographer Annette Lareau, “Unequal Childhoods: Class, Race, and Family Life” proposes that the difference in parenting by the rich/middle class and the poor have a lot to do with success. She advocates that we can serve the Chris’s of the world better (albeit he is an extreme example) if schools and teachers understood the kind of parenting they receive at home.
Most of us will have little or no encounters with geniuses like Robert and Chris. What we have though, will be plenty of encounters with flashes of genius. For many of our students, it takes ingenuity just to navigate the many daily obstacles in their life so they can come to school on time, in uniform, with a pen and paper. Being clean, well-fed, alert, relaxed and ready to learn takes a second flash of genius. As for materials for a homework, research or project, those would be in the “minor miracle” category, along with raising the hand to speak, getting along with peers, suggesting a new idea, asking for help understanding a lesson, avoiding bullies. If we understand anything from Terman’s studies, “genius” in these other practical areas are just as important in the future success of outliers like Robert Oppenheimer.
The great King David once said of his Lord in Psalm 18: “Your gentleness has made me great,” or, “you stoop down to make me great. You broaden the path beneath me, so that my ankles do not turn.”
Our days are lit by flashes of genius. And everyone needs someone to stoop down to make them great.
