How
do babies learn so fast? Within a single year they’ve learned
how to understand language, how to use all of their muscles,
including walking, how to socially interact even if they can’t
quite talk yet, and more.
It’s
no wonder that we’ve thought of them as having genius that they
grow out of once they get down the basic skills of being a human
being.
Their
“genius” comes from an interesting place.
The
newborn brain has considerably more neural connections than it will
need, nearly twice as much.
This
is one of the reasons that babies might experience their senses in
such a mixed up way. Within a short amount of time, the wrong
connections are automatically culled out.
Learning
is a matter of pruning out these connections, not adding them. A
pathway that is reinforced remains. One that is never used atrophies
and eventually disappears.
I
really love this discovery. Think about it — how would
repetition of a thing cause a neural connection to grow in a certain
direction? How does the neuron know where to grow, to “save”
that information? It makes a lot more sense that the neurons just
randomly grow, and that the ones that don’t work just die out.
This
isn’t just how babies learn. Neural growth occurs throughout
childhood, and though it may slow down quite a bit, throughout all of
adulthood.
It
gives us a different picture of the brain than previous metaphors.
Rather
than thinking of an infant's brain as a blank slate to be drawn on,
it's more useful to imagine a block of wood to be carved. The
rendered shape comes from removing material while working with and
around the already existing fiber, grain, and irregularities in the
wood.
If
a child is loved, held and cherished, engaged with and taught, and
given the opportunity for disappointment and sadness in a safe
environment, he will naturally trust the world. He will have
compassion, because that is the experience that has been reinforced.
We
are all born with the capacity for great compassion.
But
if a child is ignored, rarely or even never receives comfort when he
is frightened or lonely, never receives affection — those
neural pathways die. They become incapable of normal human
relationships.
That
child cannot receive love, nor can he trust since, betrayal is the
experience that has been reinforced. He or she has no empathy and no
ability to control violent impulses. If such serious neglect has
happened during the crucial early years, even intensive caring and
therapy cannot repair the damage done.
I
believe people such as these cannot be held accountable for their
actions, no matter how much pain and suffering they've caused. This
is why we have no right to judge the hearts of men, even as we remove
them from society so that they harm no one else.
(This
is not to say that all violent and criminal individuals have that
lack of accountability, as far as eternal judgment goes. There are
those who, in their efforts to satisfy their selfish desires, burn
the human goodness out of themselves.)
The
inborn aspects of the brain — its structure and default
neurochemistry — can't be easily changed. These are the grain
and fiber and irregularities of the body that the spirit was born
with and through which it will experience the world. These are not
within our simple control.
Irregularities
that cause difficulties can sometimes be helped with medications or
very specific interventions — but only if we understand exactly
what is wrong and have exactly the right tool to fix it.
Psychology
today is medieval. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn’t,
and nobody knows why. But that’s a topic for another day.
The
experiences we give our children in the early years are under our
control and actually shape the brain — the very body the spirit
has been given through which it will experience the world.
Consider
all of the implications of this: physical, emotional, social,
cultural — even political.
We
have things in our head so ingrained that we can’t see the
world in any other way.
Child
development is not playing with crayons. It's shaping the possibilities of
a soul.
An
infant is a glorious being, the child of a god and goddess, put into
a situation in which she or he has no control over what is happening
to them. None at all, at first.
We
are only a handful of years ahead of those infants. Those years give
us the responsibility to provide them with the nurture and care they
need to learn the right lessons in this world. They should be treated
with as much dignity and egalitarianism as is given those who are in
the temple for the first time to receive their endowment.
It’s
kind of awe-inspiring and kind of frightening to know that when we
are talking to children, we are talking to the eternal creatures they
are and the mortal adults they will become.
Happily
we come with a few preset instincts to guide us. Some are more
talented at it than others. But if we take the time to understand why
a child is acting the way he is, rather than letting ourselves get
annoyed, we can serve him much better.
Ami Chopine started out her mortal existence as a single cell. That cell divided into a collection
of cells that cooperated enough to do such things as eat, crawl, walk and eventually read a lot
and do grownuppy things.
When she was seven years old, hanging upside down on the monkey bars, she decided she
wanted to be a scientist when she grew up. Even though she studied molecular biology at the
University of Utah, that didn't quite come to pass. She became a writer instead. Still, her passion
for science and honest inquiry has remained and married itself to her love of the Gospel.
Ami is married to Vladimir and together they have four amazing children -- three in college and
one in elementary school, where Ami is president of the Family School Organization. Vladimir
is the better cook, but Ami is the better baker. She also knits, gardens, stares at clouds, and sings.
She can only do three of these at the same time.
Besides two published computer graphics books and several magazine tutorials, she writes
science fiction and has a couple of short stories published. You can find her blog at
www.amichopine.com.
Ami was surprised to not be given a calling as some kind of teacher the last time she was called
into the bishop's office. She currently serves as the Young Women Secretary -- somewhat
challenging for the girl whose grandmother used to call the absentminded professor.