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The Monday Morning Memo

College Isn’t for Everyone

May 20, 2013

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https://podcasts.captivate.fm/media/70201f11-bc28-4c2e-8131-5886d6c2641c/MMM130520-CollegeNot4Everyon.mp3

The smartest thing I ever did was drop out of college on the second day. What I wanted to learn, they couldn’t teach me, so I left to figure it out on my own. That was 37 years ago.

A number of years later I wrote a series of New York Times and Wall Street Journal bestselling business books and launched a school for grown-ups who are imaginative, courageous and ambitious. Wizard Academy teaches big things fast. Our students are leaving their fingerprints on the world and I am proud of them beyond belief.

College isn’t for everyone. It was definitely not for me.

If you have among your circle of friends a public school teacher who trusts you enough to speak to you “off the record” about what has happened to our school system, you owe it to America to have that conversation.

I predict you won’t be able to sleep that night.

None of the teachers to whom I’ve spoken wants to see their own children or grandchildren in public schools. These teachers aren’t afraid of drugs or violence. They’re afraid of an educational system that requires its teachers to wear the handcuffs of strict conformity and “teach to the test” in lockstep fashion so that the school district won’t be penalized. “Cram for the exam, learning be damned.”

Every lesson, every day, is simply test-prep for the all-important standardized test.

Standardized. As if every child is an identical blank slate, devoid of individual aptitudes or interests.

Have you ever heard of the Creativity Quotient (CQ)? It’s like the IQ except that it measures creativity rather than intelligence. All across America, our 2nd graders score higher on CQ tests than our high-schoolers.

Evidently, compliance and conformity come at a price.

Children starting school this year will retire in 2072. None of us has a clue what the world will look like just 5 years from now, yet we are tasked with educating children for the world they will face 20, 30, and 40 years in the future.

Paul Torrance administered the first CQ test in 1958 to a large number of elementary-age schoolchildren in Minnesota. Twenty-two years later, these schoolchildren were located to see if their CQ scores had been in any way predictive of career success. A second follow-up was administered in 1998, 40 years after the original test, and a 50 year follow-up was conducted in 2008 as the schoolchildren were approaching the age of 60.

The result? CQ is 3 times more reliable as an indicator of career success than IQ.

That Torrance CQ test measured divergent thinking on 4 scales:

1. Fluency. The total number of interpretable, meaningful, and relevant ideas generated in response to the stimulus.
2. Flexibility. The number of different categories of relevant responses.
3. Originality. The statistical rarity of the responses.
4. Elaboration. The amount of detail in the responses.

Professor Ken Robinson defines creativity as “the process of having original ideas that have value.” Creativity is messy and not easy to manage, so public schools don’t like to measure the CQ of their students or encourage creativity in any way.

I believe this needs to change. I believe it must.

“But what can we do,” you ask?

Allow me to answer with the words of Margaret Mead:
“Never doubt that a small group of thoughtful, committed citizens can change the world; indeed, that is the only thing that ever has.?”

Are you in?

Roy H. Williams

Tim Storm started an online business with only a hundred dollars, then sold that business, FatWallet.com, in September 2011, after pouring his heart and soul into it for more than a decade. He now owns half of Paris, France, and all of Hawaii. On this week’s episode of Monday Morning Radio, Tim shares what he learned during some of his most important moments of decision. Tim will also drop a few enticing hints about what’s next on his agenda.
Trust me, when Tim Storm makes his announcement, Donald Trump’s TV show, The Apprentice, will be exposed as a second-rate effort from a lightweight poser who inherited a pile of money and is now trying to convince America that he’s a self-made entrepreneur. Poor Donald… Uh-oh, I’ve probably said more than I should have. Me better shut up before I get in real trouble. Check out Tim Storm at MondayMorningRadio.com. McNair and I will see you in the rabbit hole. – Indiana Beagle

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Random Quote:

“Oh, where have you been, my blue-eyed son?
Oh, where have you been, my darling young one?

I’ve stumbled on the side of twelve misty mountains.
I’ve walked and I’ve crawled on six crooked highways.
I’ve stepped in the middle of seven sad forests.
I’ve been out in front of a dozen dead oceans.
I’ve been ten thousand miles in the mouth of a graveyard.

Oh, what did you see, my blue-eyed son?
Oh, what did you see, my darling young one?

I saw a newborn baby with wild wolves all around it.
I saw a highway of diamonds with nobody on it.
I saw a black branch with blood that kept drippin’.
I saw a room full of men with their hammers a-bleedin’.
I saw a white ladder all covered with water.
I saw ten thousand talkers whose tongues were all broken.
I saw guns and sharp swords in the hands of young children.

And what did you hear, my blue-eyed son?
And what did you hear, my darling young one?

I heard the sound of a thunder, it roared out a warnin’.
Heard the roar of a wave that could drown the whole world.
Heard one hundred drummers whose hands were a-blazin’.
Heard ten thousand whisperin’ and nobody listenin’.
Heard one person starve, I heard many people laughin’.
Heard the song of a poet who died in the gutter.
Heard the sound of a clown who cried in the alley.

Oh, who did you meet, my blue-eyed son?
Who did you meet, my darling young one?

I met a young child beside a dead pony.
I met a white man who walked a black dog.
I met a young woman whose body was burning.
I met a young girl, she gave me a rainbow.
I met one man who was wounded in love.
I met another man who was wounded with hatred.

Oh, what’ll you do now, my blue-eyed son?
Oh, what’ll you do now, my darling young one?

I’m a-goin’ back out ’fore the rain starts a-fallin’.
I’ll walk to the depths of the deepest black forest.
Where the people are many and their hands are all empty.
Where the pellets of poison are flooding their waters.
Where the home in the valley meets the damp dirty prison.
Where the executioner’s face is always well hidden.
Where hunger is ugly, where souls are forgotten.
Where black is the color, where none is the number.
And I’ll tell it and think it and speak it and breathe it
And reflect it from the mountain so all souls can see it.
Then I’ll stand on the ocean until I start sinkin’
But I’ll know my song well before I start singin’.

And it’s a hard, it’s a hard, it’s a hard, it’s a hard,
It’s a hard rain’s a-gonna fall”

- A Hard Rain’s A-Gonna Fall, written by Bob Dylan, Copyright © 1963 by Warner Bros. Inc.; renewed 1991 by Special Rider Music

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