CHAPTER III

THE REPLACEMENT OF COMPETITION BY GROUP WORK

§ 1

When Sanderson first came to Oundle his ideas seem to have differed

from the normal scholastic opinion of his time mainly in his conviction

of the interestingness and attractiveness of real scientific work

for many types of boys that the established classical and stylistic

mathematical teaching failed to grip. He developed these new aspects

of school work, and his earliest success lay in the fact that he got

a higher percentage of boys interested and active in school work than

was usual elsewhere, and that the report of this and the report of his

wholesome and stimulating personality spread into the world of anxious

parents. But it early became evident to him that the new subjects

necessitated methods of handling in vivid contrast to the methods

stereotyped for the classical and mathematical courses.

There have been three chief phases in the history of educational

method in the last five centuries, the phase of compulsion, the phase

of competition, and the phase of natural interest. They overlap and

mingle. Medieval teaching being largely in the hands of celibates, who

had acquired no natural understanding of children and young people, and

who found them extremely irritating, irksome, or exciting, was stupid

and brutal in the extreme. Young people were driven along a straight

and narrow road to a sort of prison of dusty knowledge by teachers

almost as distressed as themselves. The medieval school went on to the

chant of rote-learning with an accompaniment of blows, insults, and

degradations of the dunce-cap type. The Jesuit schools, to which the

British public schools owe so much, sought a human motive in vanity and

competition; they turned to rewards, distinctions, and competitions.

Sir Francis Bacon recommended them justly as the model schools of his

time. The class-list with its pitiless relegation of two-thirds of the

class to self-conscious mediocrity and dufferdom was the symbol of

this second, slightly more enlightened phase. The school of the rod

gave place to the school of the class-list. An aristocracy of leading

boys made the pace and the rest of the school found its compensation

in games or misbehaviour. So long as the sole subjects of instruction

remained two dead languages and formal mathematics, subjects

essentially unappetising to sanely constituted boys, there was little

prospect of getting school method beyond this point.

By the end of the eighteenth century schoolmasters were beginning

to realise what most mothers know by instinct, that there is in all

young people a curiosity, a drive to know, an impulse to learn, that

is available for educational ends, and has still to be properly

exploited for educational ends. It is not within our present scope

to discuss Pestalozzi, Froebel, and the other great pioneers in this

third phase of education. Nearly all children can be keenly interested

in some subject, and there are some subjects that appeal to nearly

all children. Directly you cease to insist upon a particular type of

achievement in a particular line of attainment, directly your school

gets out of the narrow lane and moves across open pasture, it goes

forward of its own accord. The class-list and the rod, so necessary

in the dusty fury of the lane, cease to be necessary. In the effective

realisation of this Sanderson was a leader.

For a time he let the classical and literary work of the school run

on upon the old competition-compulsion, class-list lines. For some

years he does not seem to have realised the possibility of changes in

these fields. But from the first in his mechanical teaching and very

soon in mathematics the work ceased to have the form of a line of boys

all racing to acquire an identical parcel of knowledge, and took on

the form more and more of clusters of boys surrounding an attractive

problem. There grew up out of the school Science a periodic display,

the Science Conversazione, in which groups of youngsters displayed

experiments and collections they had co-operated to produce. Later on

a Junior Conversazione developed. These conversaziones show the Oundle

spirit in its most typical expression. Sanderson derived much from

the zeal and interest these groups of boys displayed. He realised how

much finer and how much more fruitful was the mutual stimulation of a

common end than the vulgar effort for a class place. The clever boy

under a class-list system loves the shirker and the dullard who make

the running easy, but a group of boys working for a common end display

little patience with shirking. The stimulus is much more intimate, and

it grows. Jones minor is told to play up, exactly as he is told to play

up in the playing field.

In the summer term the conversazione in its fully developed form took

up a large part of the energy of the school. Says the official life:

'All the senior boys in the school were eligible for this work,

the only qualification necessary being a willingness to work and

to sacrifice some, at least, of one's free time. There was never

any dearth of willing workers, the total number often exceeding two

hundred. The chief divisions of the conversazione were: Physics and

Mechanics; Chemistry; Biology; and Workshops. A boy who volunteered

to help was left free to choose which branch he would adopt. Having

chosen, he gave his name to the master in charge; if he had any

particular experiment in view, he mentioned it, and if suitable, it was

allotted to him. If he had no suggestion, an experiment was suggested,

and he was told where information could be obtained. As a general rule

two or three boys worked together at any one experiment.

'Some of the experiments chosen required weeks of preparation; there

was apparatus to be made and fitted up, information to be sought and

absorbed, so that on the final day an intelligent account could be

given to any visitor watching the experiment. This work was all done

out of school hours. Four or five days before Speech Day, ordinary

school lessons ceased for those taking part in the conversazione; the

laboratories, class-rooms, and workshops were portioned out so that

each boy knew exactly where he was to work, and how much space he

had. The setting up of the experiments began. To any one visiting the

school on these particular days it must have seemed in a state of utter

confusion, boys wandering about in all directions apparently under no

supervision, and often to all appearances with no purpose. A party

might be met with a jam-jar and fishing-net near the river; others

might be found miles away on bicycles, going to a place where some

particular flower might be found. Three or four boys would appear to

be smashing up an engine and scattering its parts in all directions,

while others could be seen wheeling a barrow-load of bricks or trying

to mix a hod of mortar. Gradually a certain amount of order appeared,

some experiments were tried and found to work satisfactorily, others

failed, and investigation into the cause of failure had to be carried

out. As the final day approached excitement increased, frantic

telegrams were sent to know, for example, if the liquid air had been

despatched, frequent visits to the railway-station were made in the

hopes of finding some parcel had arrived; sometimes it was even

necessary to motor to Peterborough to pick up material which otherwise

would arrive too late. A programme giving a short description of the

experiment or exhibit had to pass through the printer's hands. At last

everything would be ready; occasionally, but very seldom, an experiment

had to be abandoned or another substituted at the last moment.'

The year 1905 marked a phase in the co-operative system of work on the

mechanical side with the machining and erection of a six-horse-power

reversing engine, designed for a marine engine of 3500 horse-power.

Castings and drawings were supplied by the North Eastern Marine

Engineering Works. The engine was a triumphant success, and thereafter

a number of engines has been built by groups of boys. Concurrently

with this steady replacement of the instructional-exercise system

by the group-activity system, the mathematical work became less and

less a series of exercises in style and more and more an attack upon

problems needing solution in the workshops and laboratories, with the

solution as the real incentive to the work. These dips into practical

application gave a great stimulus to the formal mathematical teaching,

for the boys realised as they could never have done otherwise the value

of such work as a 'tool-sharpening' exercise of ultimately real value.

§ 2

Quite early in his Oundle days Sanderson displayed his disposition

towards collective as against solitary activity in his dealings with

the school music. When he came to the school the 'musical' boys

were segregated from the non-musical in a choir; the rest listened

in conscious exclusion and inferiority. But from the outset he set

himself to make the whole school sing and attend to music. The few

boys with bad ears were carried along with the general flood; the

discord they made was lost in the mass effect. Towards the end a very

great proportion of the boys were keen listeners to and acute critics

of music. They would crowd into the Great Hall on Sunday evenings to

listen to the organ recital with which that day usually concluded.

§ 3

Presently Sanderson began to apply the lessons he had learnt from

grouping boys for scientific work to literature and history. Most of

us can still recall the extraordinary dreariness of school literature

teaching; the lesson that was a third-rate lecture, the note-taking,

the rehearsal of silly opinions about books unread and authors unknown,

the horrible annotated editions, the still more horrible text-books of

literature. Sanderson set himself to sweep all this away. A play, he

held, was primarily to be played, and the way to know and understand

it was to play it. The boys must be cast for parts and learn about the

other characters in relation to the one they had taken. Questions

of language and syntax, questions of interpretation, could be dealt

with best in relation to the production. But most classes had far

too many boys to be treated as a single theatrical company, so small

groups of boys were cast for each part. There would be three or four

Othellos, three or four Desdemonas or Iagos. They would act their

parts simultaneously or successively. The thing might or might not

ripen into a chosen cast giving a costume performance in public. The

important thing is that the boys were brought into the most active

contact possible with the reality of the work they studied. The groups

discussed stage 'business' and gesture and the precise stress to lay on

this or that phrase. The master stood like a producer in the auditorium

of the Great Hall. Let any one compare the vitality of that sort of

thing with the ordinary lesson from an annotated text-book.

The group system was extended with increasing effectiveness into

more and more of the literary and historical work. Here the School

Library took the place of the laboratory and was indeed as necessary

to the effective development of the group method. The official life

of Sanderson gives a typical scheme of operations pursued in the

case of a form studying the period 1783-1905. The subject was first

divided up into parts, such as the state of affairs preceding the

French Revolution; the French Revolution in relation to England; the

industrial system and economic problems generally; and so on. The form

divided up into groups and each group selected a part or a section of

a part for its study. The objective of each group was the preparation

of a report, illustrated by maps, schedules, and so forth, upon the

section it had studied. After a preliminary survey of the whole field

under the direction of a master, each boy followed up the particular

matter assigned to him by individual reading for a term, supplemented

when necessary by consultation with the master. Then came the

preparation of maps and other material, the assembling of illuminating

quotations from the books studied, the drafting of the group's report,

the discussion of the report. In some cases where the group was in

disagreement there would be a minority report.

In this way there was scarcely a boy in the form who did not feel

himself contributing and necessary to the general result, and who was

not called upon not merely by his master but by his colleagues, for

some special exertion. It might be thought that the departmentalising

of the subject among groups would mean that the knowledge would

accumulate in pockets, but this was not the case. Boys of separate

groups talked with one another of their work and found a lively

interest in their different points of view. It is rare that boys who

have received the same lesson can find much in it to talk about,

unless it is a comparison of who has retained most, but a boy who has

been preparing maps of the Napoleonic military campaigns may find the

liveliest interest in another who has been following the history of

the same period from the point of view of sea power. There was indeed

a very considerable amount of interchange, and when it came to facing

external examiners and testing the general knowledge attained, the

Oundle boys were found to compare favourably with boys who had been

drummed in troops through complete histories of the chosen period.

This group system of work had arisen naturally out of the conditions of

the new laboratory teaching, and it had been developed for the sake of

its educational effectiveness; but as it grew it became more and more

evident to Sanderson that its effects went far beyond mere intellectual

attainment. It marked a profound change in the spirit of the school.

It was not only that the spirit of co-operation had come in. That had

already been present on the cricket and football fields. But the boys

were working to make something or to state something and not to gain

something. It was the spirit of creation that now pervaded the school.

And he perceived, too, that the boys he would now be sending out

into the world must needs carry that creative spirit with them

and play a very different part from the ambitious star boys who

went on from a training under the older methods. They would play

an as yet incalculable part in redeeming the world from the wild

orgy of competition that was now afflicting it. In one of his very

characteristic sermons he gave his ripened conception of this side of

his work. He had been speaking, perhaps with a certain idealisation,

of the old craftsmen's guilds--with a glance or so at the Grocers'

Company. The school, he declared, was to be no longer an arena but a

guild. For what was a guild?

'A community of co-workers and no competition, that was its idea. It

is all based on the system of apprenticeships and co-workers. The

apprentices helped the masters in every way they could; even the

masters were grouped together for mutual assistance and were called

assistants. The Company was a mystery or guild of craftsmen and

dealers, and their aim was to produce good craftsmen and good dealers.

'To-day, in these days of renascence, we return to the aim and methods

of the guilds. Boys are to be apprentices and master-workers and

co-workers. In a community this needs must be. We are called to a

definite work, all who are privileged to attend here, staff and boys

alike--the work of infusing life into the boys committed to our care.

Nor can any one stand out of this and seek work elsewhere. Nemesis

sets in for all who try to live for themselves alone. They may try to

work--but their work is sterile. The community calls for the energies

and activities of all. We are beginning to learn something of what

this means. It does not mean an abandonment of the best methods of

the past. But it does mean that we have to concern ourselves with the

pressing needs and problems of to-day, and join in the work. I do not

dwell on this now. My mind goes off to the possible effect of these

ideas on the general life of the school.

'The working of these ideas is well seen already in the outdoor life

of the school. We see it when houses are getting their teams together

to join a competition for a shield, say. We see the mutual help, the

voluntary practice, the consultations of the captain with others. We

see it in the work in the Cadet Corps. We see it in the preparation

for a play--this time, the _Midsummer Night's Dream_. We see it in the

new work in the library, and we see it as clearly as in anything in

the preparation for a conversazione. No more valuable training can be

given than this last--well worth all the many kinds of sacrifice it

entails. From it, at any rate, the spirit of competition is, I think,

altogether removed. Boys, we believe, set forth to do their work as

well as they possibly can--but not to beat one another.... I dwell upon

these things because we hope that all boys will become workers at last,

with interest and zeal, in some part of the field of creation and

inquiry, which is the true life of the world. It is from such workers,

investigators, searchers, the soul of the nation is drawn. We will

first of all transform the life of the school, then the boys, grown

into men--and girls from their schools grown into women--whom their

schools have enlisted into this service, will transform the life of the

nation and of the whole world.'

The Story of a Great Schoolmaster · 第 3 / 8 章