Next to motherhood, the profession of teacher in public or private
schools is the most important one on earth.
It is, in a certain sense, more responsible than that of motherhood,
since the work of poor and bad mothers must be undone by the teacher,
and where the mother has three or four children for a period of years to
influence, the teacher has hundreds continually. There are very few
perfect teachers. There are too few excellent ones. There are too many
poor ones. I do not believe you possess the requisites for the calling.
A teacher should first of all love children as a class. Their
dependence, their ignorance, their helplessness, and their unformed
characters should appeal to a woman's mind, and make her forget their
many and varied faults and irritating qualities. You like lovable,
well-bred, and interesting children, but you are utterly indifferent to
all others. You adore beauty, and an ugly child offends your taste. A
stupid child irritates you.
You have a wonderful power of acquiring and remembering information, but
you do not possess the knack of readily imparting it. You expect others
to grasp ideas in the same way you do. This will make you unsympathetic
and impatient as a teacher. You have no conception of the influence a
teacher exerts upon children in public schools. You were educated in
private schools and at home, I know. I attended the country public
school, and to this day I can recall the benefits and misfortunes which
resulted to me from association with different teachers. Children are
keenly alive to the moods of teachers and are often adepts in
mind-reading.
A teacher should be able to enter into the hearts and souls of the
children under her charge, and she should find as great pleasure in
watching their minds develop as the musical genius in watching a
composition grow under his touch.
An infinite number of things not included in the school routine should
be taught by teachers. Courtesy, kindness to dependents and weaker
creatures, a horror of cruelty in all forms, a love of nature,
politeness to associates, low speaking and light walking, cleanliness
and refinement of manner,--all these may be imparted by a teacher who
loves to teach, without extra time or fatigue. I fear a proud disdain,
and a scarcely hidden disgust, would be plainly visible in your
demeanour toward the majority of the untrained little savages given to
your charge in a public school. You have not the love of humanity at
large in your heart, nor the patience and perseverance to make you take
an optimistic view in the colossal work of developing the minds of
children. Therefore it seems to me almost a sin for you to undertake
the profession merely because you need to earn a living. There are other
things to be considered besides your necessities. Fond as I am of you, I
have the betterment of humanity at my heart, too, and cannot feel it is
right for you to place yourself in a position where you will not be
doing the best for those dependent upon you that could be done.
I have given up hope of seeing mothers made to realize their
responsibilities. But I still have hope of the teachers. On them and
their full understanding of all it is in their power to do, lies the
hope of the world.
Therefore, my dear girl, I urge you to take up dressmaking or millinery
instead of school-teaching.
If you ruin a piece of goods in the making, you can replace it and
profit by your error. But if you mar a child's nature in your attempt to
teach him, you have done an irreparable injury not only to him but to
humanity.
If you saw a design started by a lace-maker, you would not think of
taking the work and attempting to complete it until you had learned the
art of lace-making.
Just so you ought not to think of developing the wonderful intricacies
of a child's mind until you have learned how.
It is all right to deliberately choose a vocation which gives us contact
only with inanimate things, but we have no right to take the handling of
human souls unless we are specially fitted for the task.