Sunday, September 12, 2010

A Better Example

I have one gripe with Harry Potter. Although the series is fascinating, Harry the Hero leaves some to be desired. As the chosen one to defeat Voldemort, he doesn't have to work to achieve success. Sure, at times he believes he needs to, but he never puts forth the effort it would take to really become better or more powerful. His friend Hermione, in contrast, works diligently and long to improve her abilities as a wizard, but there is a sense throughout the story that she, although much, much better than any of her classmates (and one of the best students in decades), will never learn enough or develop enough skill to defeat Voldermort. Only Harry can do that, because only Harry possesses the innate talent necessary. Harry succeeds not because of what he does, but because J.K. Rowling decided that he would, and creates him with an innate quality imbued to him by his parents that will enable him to prevail.

What a self-defeating message! If you are chosen, you can succeed, but if not, no level of effort or work will enable you.

As studies have shown, repeatedly telling a child that he or she is smart or talented sets them up for failure. Why? Because, if their smartness is innate, and nothing which they can influence by practice or effort, then when the inevitable struggle comes, they quit, believing that they've reached the limit of their talent. “I just wasn't smart enough for physics” or “Calculus was okay, but differential equations was beyond me” or maybe “I could memorize anything until confronted with Gray's Anatomy.” Each represents a failure to believe in the power of practice, the power of effort, the power of self.

We need to get away from the hero who achieves success through innateness, and instead demonstrates those qualities that lead to success in the actual world in which we live: Effort, practice, mentoring, honesty, and more practice. Heroes that fill our children's minds with the ideas and ideals that we would pass on as parents, if only we had the gift of storytelling ourselves.

Fortunately, John Flanagan is such an author and parent. He started the “Rangers Apprentice” series for his son Michael, and infuses the story with exactly the sort of messages that I'm advocating. His characters have innate qualities that predispose them to certain activities (Horace has size and strength, Will has grace and control, Jenny an ebullient personality) – but it is the practice and effort each puts in after being selected (at age 15) for their respective training that reveals growing levels of competence. Horace is bullied, and the extra work he does hoping to appease his tormentors naturally leads to higher skill as a future knight (plus, the bullying situation is brought to a neat resolution, as an adult recognizes and steps in to help the students understand that accepting and perpetuating bullying is unequivocally wrong.)

Will is the main protagonist, and undergoes some initial frustrations (and defeats) as he finds that his small size limits him from Battle School, his heart's desire. However, selected by the ranger Halt to be his apprentice, and through Halt's mentoring and lots of practicing (“I know, practice!” grumbles Will at one point), Will's skills improve, and he receives accolades for his earned abilities, not his innate talents. Author Flanagan uses scenes with Will's former wardmates (he is an orphan) to show the satisfaction gained from earned recognition to drive home the point.

Flanagan even manages to weave in traits such as honesty into the story. Will learns that Halt watched him two years previously as he snuck into the kitchen to steal some cakes. Will was caught at that time, and when confronted by the cook, deliberates, and decides to tell the truth. He takes the punishment, and forgets the incident. However, Halt reveals to Will that the moment of honesty two years previously has had an enormous impact:

“I wondered if I shouldn't have lied,” [Will] admitted. Halt shook his head very slowly. “Oh, no, Will. If you'd lied, you never would have become my apprentice.”

The point may be lost on many of the young readers, but then again, maybe not. It never hurts to emphasize that honesty's rewards may not be readily apparent, or that a lack of honesty may take 1 or 3 or 5 years before it returns to haunt you.

The rest of the book delights, too. There are exciting battles, mythical creatures, and the growing back story of a power-hungry antagonist returning for another attempt to conquer the kingdom. Will and his friends are young, and we expect as the series continues, that they will play ever larger roles in defending, not because they are the innately Chosen Few, but because they will be the ones who have invested more effort into developing their skills, and so are the ones who will ultimately be able to rise to the challenge.

I'd much rather see a series like Flanagan's in the hands of our young readers, with heroes like Will and Horace imitated and idolized by our sons (and daughters) than stories with empty, predestined “heroes” like Harry. Through John Flanagan's storytelling, Will's story sets a much better example of how success over challenges can be obtained, and hopefully, a better message that developing one's skills is not an innate process, but one very much determined by effort and attention.

(Flanagan, John. "Ranger's Apprentice, Book One: The Ruins of Gorlan." Puffin Books, 2005.)