How can a brief look from one 8^th grader be so memorable and so instructive?
It was very early in my career, and I was just beginning a year of a non-traditional sabbatical spent working with teachers, students and even parents on problem solving.  I encountered this particular young lady in question in the very first period of the very first school I had visited that Fall.
She had been particularly ‘grabbed’ by one of the fun problems we’d worked on – the calendar cube problem*, we called it – but hadn’t gotten a solution before it was time for her class to move on to the next period.  This had not bothered her in the least . . . in fact, she had not even wanted to hear the hint the rest of her small group had requested a few minutes before.
For some reason, this girl’s particular brand of subtle, unconcerned confidence as she left the workshop stuck with me all morning.  When I happened to run into her (almost literally!) in the crowded craziness of a junior high cafeteria at lunch, I asked if she had figured out the problem’s solution.
It was then I received the memorable look.  Her chin fell almost to the floor, and the sadness was evident in her voice.  “Someone told me the answer,” she replied plaintively.
I was speechless.  I think I just stood there as she walked off.  Here was this perfectly marvelous 8^th grader for whom the independent solving of the problem was more important that the actual answer itself!
It would not be the only time that year that I experienced such a mini-enlightenment, nor would it be only time I would learn much from the students and teachers with whom I worked.
In the decades that followed that workshop, I’ve told that story innumerable times, especially in workshops and classes with current and future teachers, as we discussed the type of environment we’d like to encourage as we work with students.
But for now, I’d like to focus on the wider implications for all of us, no matter how long it’s been since we were in school.
How long has it been since any of us really experienced the excitement of learning something new?  Not something we had to learn, mind you, or something we would be tested over, but something for which the knowledge gained was valuable simply because we wanted to know it and/or because the actual acquiring of the knowledge was part (maybe all?) of the fun?  Probably too long for most of us.  Interesting food for thought, isn’t it?
I still occasionally think of that eighth-grader-who-is-now-nearly-forty(!) [Ack!! She’s now over-fifty!! I first wrote these thoughts pre-2000]  Is she still curious and confident about the little problems she faces?  Is she still excited about learning in general?
For that girl, at that time, the classroom still held much of its magic.  How long did that last?  Soon, for her, as for all of us, life undoubtedly became more of a classroom than the classroom ever was.  Does it still hold the magic?  Does she – do we? – still experience the joy of learning?
Are you still looking for a New Year’s resolution?  Why not resolve to learn something – or several things! – new and exciting this year?  Something that really grabs you.
We often hear the phrase ‘live and learn’.  I’m not sure it shouldn’t be the other way around.

*How are the 10 digits placed on 2 separate cubes in order to be able to denote every day of the month? Have a solution?  E-mail it!