Schooling in incapability.

Today a friend posted on Facebook a video of a little boy, around three and a half, conducting to a classical music recording. He captured every nuance and powerful climax every bit as well as Simon Rattle. He seems to have been schooled by his own observation, either that or portraying a past life awareness. He continued fearlessly through a period of itchy nose wiping and finished by sprawling on the floor with the joy of it to the sound of his mother’s laughter. He had no concept that he couldn’t or shouldn’t be able to do it; he just did it. And he did it wonderfully. It reminded me of Andraemouse’s friend so well schooled in his own incapability. It would seem strange in the extreme to actively train young people to be incapable but it does seem we are very accomplished at inculcating in them the fundamental belief that they are. The mechanism, whether gross or subtle, is based on a single principle; that one is the arbiter of their performance. Whether by constant scalding and derision or gentle direction and ‘help’ the result is the same. They learn to dance to another’s tune, to become poorly responding puppets of another’s wishes. Yet how can we not hold our own wishes for our offspring’s as parents and teachers? Wouldn’t it be equally absurd to appear not to give a damn, to not give guidance when it is patently obvious it’s needed? For me at least the answer is joy and a quite strict adherence to certain demarcations of intent. One can share one’s experiences and one’s own wishes for oneself. One cannot require others to conform to one’s wishes ‘for them’ because that requires judgment that eats away one’s joy of them and imbues in them fear. One’s joy, even in joyful reprimand, will bring growth much greater than one might wish for. That’s enough, I’ll get back to talking about donkey poo.