We were about four miles into a five-and-a-half-mile climb to a high mountain bald just a few miles east of the NC/TN border in the Smokies. It was a typical midsummer afternoon, and my wife and I were exhausted. I don’t know if I had taken in enough calories that morning and was fighting both exhaustion and stomach cramps. Still, I wanted to make it to the top of the mountain, see the view, and check it off my bucket list. In my head, I kept wondering how much further. I kept asking the age-old question that boys have asked their parents since the birth of traveling. The classic. “Are we there yet?” Eventually, we made the last steps to the top and sat down in a high meadow to enjoy both lunch and an amazing view; we had made it.
Laying there, my mind slipped back to my childhood and traveling to the beach in a two-door blue Ford Escort with manual air conditioning. For those unfamiliar with a manual air conditioner, it involves rolling down the two front windows, usually manually, and allowing the wind to blow through the car. I sat in the back vinyl seats with my younger brother, struggling to keep my exposed skin from permanently sticking to the seat that was only a few degrees cooler than a frying pan. Somewhere a few hours into the trip, one of us would inevitably ask Dad, are we there yet?
The single most powerful part of that question is the assumption that we will eventually get there. By including the word yet, we imply that we fully understand that our challenge is a journey and that we will be there eventually. It is a recognition that we are getting closer to our destination with every passing moment. For our students, for our children, and for us, adding “Yet” makes all of the difference. Children who think they are not reading on grade level are foundationally different from those who think they are not on grade level yet. “Yet” offers a hopeful future.
My grandson turned one a few months ago. He is almost walking. As he grows, yet is a common part of our language when we talk about him. He isn’t walking yet. He isn’t potty trained yet. He isn’t talking yet. Yet marks milestones, but at some point in childhood, we stop using yet. I don’t know what happens in between, he isn’t walking yet and he isn’t a good reader. We must commit to keeping Yet in our language as we talk about our students, our children, and our grandkids.
In educational language, this concept illustrates the difference between a fixed mindset and a learning mindset. A fixed academic mindset says that we are either born with the natural ability to perform academically or not. We either have it or we don’t. This mindset can be toxic to our students and misses the value of arriving for learning with a great attitude, giving our best effort, learning to be self-disciplined, or buckling down to solve tough problems. It misses the value of cultivating grit and empowering students to be creative. While “Yet” is all about learning and growth.
I want to encourage each person reading this to evaluate their own habits and practices. Think about the subtle messages you send to the young people you interact with regularly. Are you sending the message that you might not be there yet, but you will get there, and I will be here along the way to help? Are you offering a hopeful future with the words you use?
Yet brings with it the power of hope. Imagine how we could impact our children’s lives if we planted this single three-letter word deep into their minds. Regardless of whether you are a parent or an educator, we must constantly remind ourselves that our children have a natural bias toward growth. Deep down, they want to do better, please the adults they have built a connection with, and grow. They are crying out, “Don’t give up on me Yet!” The big question for us is, are we listening?
Empty Your Cup... 