Friday night’s entertainment at the Bowlus Fine Arts Center was a whole lot better than Sunday’s debacle in New Orleans.
In front of a full house, prominent author and speaker Temple Grandin entertained, enlightened and challenged a rapt audience to think differently. Grandin has become one of the nation’s leading voices on autism, and her insights into the American education system Friday called for little short of a radical re-evaluation of what and how we teach our children.
Such public advocacy once terrified Grandin, who didn’t speak until almost age four and was diagnosed with autism as an adult. “Fear is the main emotion in autism,” noted Grandin. Now, her success lies in “making really good slides for my presentation,” she said. “Then, you just hope the slide works. And if you freak out, just go to the next slide.”
It was only half a joke; the lesson fell on the next beat. “That’s the way we beat fear. We take the scary thing, and we make it interesting.”
THAT PATTERN — humorous anecdotes tied to profound insights — formed the rhythm of Grandin’s presentation.
“I’m a visual learner,” said Grandin, a professor of animal science at Colorado State University. “So I see risk. And I’ll never understand how some people on planes can put a glass of water on an open laptop.”
Then, she segued into how flickering LED lights can disrupt visual learners. She later recommended e-readers, laptops or pastel-colored paper for students who don’t read well on traditional computer screens. “I know some educators will say that colored paper isn’t evidence based,” said Grandin, impatience straining her voice. “Look, colored paper is cheap, and it’s not going to hurt anyone.” So try it.
Grandin spoke of how her high school years “were the worst years of my life.” Her passion for horses, a model rocket club in school, and strong teachers helped guide her through difficult years. Many audience members nodded their heads when Grandin said, “If I could tell myself one thing as a teenager, it’d be that things get better once you become an adult.”
But she lamented how many of the skills she learned in school, skills that gave her solace and space to excel, are unavailable to students today.
“We have to teach kids how to use their hands,” said Grandin, noting how few schools teach sewing, carpentry, culinary arts, and skilled trades. Kids in school aren’t getting enough exercise, so they can’t focus, and they’re learning how to memorize algebra sets, instead of figuring out how things work. She’s shocked by how many students today can’t use measuring cups or rulers.
Grandin earnestly advocated for a renewed effort on teaching soft skills.
“One of the big differences between then and now is that kids on the [autism] spectrum had jobs. They were meeting people and learning social skills,” said Grandin. Now, we trust blinding screens and noise-blocking headphones in their place. Grandin doesn’t see it that way.
“Every student should have to learn how to work a real job before high school graduation,” she implored. “We have too many moms protecting these kids,” said Grandin, begging parents and teachers to let students venture out into the real world while support systems are still around to help guide them. The risk of not doing so, of coddling children into adulthood, is that their very first shot at life is when they’re all on their own.
Professionally, Grandin was bold, forcing her way into her first job by grabbing the business card of her future employer and insisting she was capable. This, in a time many women, much less one with autism, were not taken seriously in the workforce. The lesson? “You got to have the guts to go get the job,” she said. And if you can’t go in the front door, “You have to have the guts to get in through the back door.”
FRIDAY EVENING’s audience leaned heavy on educators. They were by far the most interactive audience members, peppering the question- and-answer discussion with queries about how to adapt lesson plans to best meet students’ needs. At one point, when Grandin presented a slide with free resources for educators, a barrage of cell phones emerged to grab a quick photo. When asked what Grandin was most proud of in her career, an audience member offered her thoughts: “I hope you’re proud of the difference you’ve made for thousands of teachers around the country, and maybe even the world.”
Grandin’s love for her work is obvious. She never slowed down, never tired, and listened attentively to every question, often fixing her gaze in the distance and staying frozen to the spot. Students and teachers alike asked about how to focus better, calm down, and engage in school. After her presentation, a line of at least 75 individuals waited for her to sign their books. Grandin chatted with every single person in line.
