Maybe We’ve Been Measuring *Smart* All Wrong

I should have known my boys were nature smart long before I had a name for it.

When they were little, our house looked a lot like the Smithsonian’s Museum of Natural History.

Their pockets were never empty.

Rocks. Sticks. Acorns. Milkweed pods. Feathers. Pinecones. Eggshells. Seeds. The occasional lizard or garter snake. If it had fallen from a tree or could fit into the pocket of a pair of little-boy jeans, there was an excellent chance it would eventually make its way into our house.

As their mom, I spent a surprising amount of time saying things like, “We will have to let the tiny turtle go now,” or “Can someone explain why there’s so much bark on the kitchen table?” As an elementary teacher, I probably should have recognized what was happening.

Instead, I just kept finding sand in the washing machine.

Collecting the Beach

Then came the day at the beach. Sam was about four years old. We’d spent the afternoon swimming, and when it was time to leave, I noticed his swimsuit seemed to be sliding south. At first, I thought the elastic had simply given up. Then I watched him waddle toward me. His swimsuit wasn’t exactly falling down. It was carrying a geological collection.

He had stuffed the front, the back, and every available inch of that little swimsuit with rocks. Every few steps he’d stop, pull one out, hold it up to the sun, admire it for a moment, and tuck it back in. Each rock was somehow better than the last. Each one was a treasure.

I remember laughing as we emptied what felt like half the shoreline into a beach bag.

Back then, I saw a little boy who couldn’t stop collecting rocks. Now I see a child who couldn’t stop noticing.

Howard Gardner

Early in my teaching career, I discovered the work of Harvard psychologist Howard Gardner. His book, The Unschooled Mind, introduced me to his thinking about how children learn, including his theory of Multiple Intelligences. I highlighted nearly every page and practiced saying words like kinesthetic and intrapersonal so I could sound reasonably intelligent during staff meetings.

At the time, I thought I was learning how to become a better teacher.

Then I became a mother. That’s when Gardner’s ideas climbed out of the pages of a book and into my living room.

Suddenly, they had faces.

Sam, with his swimsuit full of rocks.

His brother Michael, happily drawing detailed maps in the back seat before he was old enough to read one.

The children in my classroom.

I wasn’t just reading about different kinds of intelligence anymore.

I was living with them.

What Is Smart?

Instead of asking, “Is this child smart?” I began asking, “How is this child smart?”

Suddenly the rock collectors, tree climbers, storytellers, builders, singers, peacemakers, question askers, and perpetual wiggle worms weren’t distractions from learning.

They were showing me how they learned.

Today I’m retired. Many of my friends are grandparents, and before long I hope to join them. I don’t spend much time worrying about the official names anymore. What I hope to pass along is something much simpler: notice.

And once you begin noticing, you’ll discover how differently and delightfully children experience the world.

Gardner identified eight different ways children can be smart. Here’s how I’ve learned to recognize and enjoy them.

#1. The Word-Smart Child

If you’ve ever answered “Why?” 37 times before breakfast, congratulations. You’ve probably got yourself a word-smart child. They narrate their day, invent stories at bedtime, and somehow turn a trip to the grocery store into an epic adventure.

Instead of another workbook, let them interview you.

“What games did you play when you were little?”

“What was your favorite subject in school?”

“What was your favorite toy?”

Then let them become the reporter while you become the guest. Record the interview on your phone. They’ll practice listening, asking questions, and storytelling, and you’ll finally have an audience that thinks your story about rotary phones is fascinating.

Write silly stories together. Start with one sentence and take turns adding another. Read favorite picture books with funny voices. Make up endings before you turn the last page.

#2: The Number-Smart Child

Some children count everything.

Crackers.

Steps.

Birds.

The chocolate chips in Grandma’s cookies. (For the record, the correct answer is always “not enough.”)

Set up a pretend grocery store with canned goods. Price everything with sticky notes. Count coins together. Estimate how many jellybeans fit in a jar before counting them. Bake together and let them measure ingredients. Keep score with tallies during games. Measure how tall the tomatoes have grown every week.

Math becomes much more interesting when cookies are involved.

#3: The Picture-Smart Child

Give these children a cardboard box and see what happens. They’ll transform it into a spaceship while the expensive toy that came inside sits untouched.

Draw treasure maps together.

Build blanket forts.

Design an imaginary zoo.

Give them sidewalk chalk and permission to transform your driveway into an art gallery.

Create photo scavenger hunts.

Artists don’t always color their pumpkins orange, and they don’t always stay within the lines.

#4: The Music-Smart Child

If your little one turns every sentence into a song, you’re already living in a Broadway musical.

Sing directions instead of saying them.

Clap rhythms.

Surround them with simple musical instruments.

Make up silly songs while cleaning up toys.

Create a family theme song.

Teach them the songs you sang as a child. Let them teach you one they’ve learned. Put on music and have an impromptu dance party in the living room.

#5: The Body-Smart Child

These are the children who hear “Please sit still” approximately 427 times a day.

Instead of fighting it, join them.

Take nature walks.

Create backyard obstacle courses.

Play charades.

Teach them to do magic tricks.

Wash the car together.

Jump in puddles after the rain.

Rake leaves into giant piles and jump in them. Toss beanbags. Fly kites. Dig in the garden.

Some children think with their feet.

#6: The People-Smart Child

These children notice everything. They know who’s sad before anyone else does.

They organize games. Negotiate playground disagreements. Remember everyone’s birthday.

Play restaurant.

Play school.

Read stories and ask, “How do you think she felt?”

Volunteer together.

Make homemade cards for someone who is sick.

Practice introducing yourselves to new people.

These are the children who often grow into adults everyone turns to when life gets hard.

#7: The Self-Smart Child

Not every child craves excitement. Some need quiet. They love reading alone, drawing quietly, swinging on the porch, or simply thinking. Don’t rush to fill every silent moment.

Give them a special journal.

Build a cozy reading corner.

Sit together watching a sunset without feeling the need to fill every silence.

Ask questions that don’t have right answers. “What made you happy today?” “What are you wondering about?”

Sometimes their greatest discoveries happen in the quiet.

#8: The Nature-Smart Child

Ah yes.

The stick collectors. The rock collectors. The children who proudly hand you a feather, a pinecone, or something slightly muddy with the expectation that you’ll treasure it forever.

Go outside.

Plant flowers.

Collect leaves.

Watch birds.

Search for animal tracks.

Start a tiny garden.

Press flowers between wax paper.

Make bark rubbings with crayons.

Build fairy houses from twigs.

Hunt for four different kinds of leaves.

Keep a nature journal with drawings instead of words if they’re young enough.

Just remember to check little pockets before doing the laundry. Trust me on this one.

The Smartest Thing We Can Do

Howard Gardner gave teachers a new vocabulary, but he gave me something much better.

He taught me to become curious before becoming judgmental.

Instead of thinking, “She’s too shy,” I wondered, “Maybe she’s thoughtful.”

Instead of, “He can’t sit still,” maybe, “He learns by moving.”

The older I get, the more I think Gardner’s greatest lesson had very little to do with education. It had everything to do with people. When we stop measuring everyone by the same ruler, we begin noticing gifts we would have missed.

Maybe that’s true of children.

Maybe it’s true of spouses.

Maybe it’s true of friends.

Maybe it’s even true of ourselves.

After all, some of us are word smart.

Some of us are music smart.

Some of us are happiest with a pocket full of sticks and rocks.

And some of us spend a lifetime learning that intelligence was never meant to be one-size-fits-all. Maybe the smartest thing any of us can do is stop asking whether someone is smart and start wondering how they are smart.

Let’s Have a Conversation:

Have you ever wondered what *smart* means? Which type of smart are you? How about your children? How about their children?