GAINING EXPERIENCE THROUGH FREEDOM
"The atmosphere of freedom is the only atmosphere in which a
child can gain experiences that will help to develop
character."
The principle of Freedom underlies all the activities of the school and
does not refer to conduct simply; intellectual and emotional aspects of
discipline are too often ignored and we have as a product the
commonplace, narrow, imitative person, too timid or too indolent to
think a new thought, or to feel strongly enough to stand for a cause.
Self-control is the goal of discipline, but independent thinking,
enthusiasm and initiative are all included in the term.
It will be well to discriminate between the occasions, both in the
Nursery School and in the transition and junior classes, when a child
should be free to learn by experience and when he should be controlled
from without. We shall probably find occasions which partake of the
nature of each.
The Nursery School is a collection of individuals presumably from 2-1/2
to 5-1/2 years of age. They know no social life beyond the family life,
and family experience is relative to the size of the family. In any case
they have not yet measured themselves against their peers, with the
exception of the occasional twin. A few months ago about twenty children
of this description formed the nucleus of a new Nursery School where, as
far as possible, the world in miniature was spread out before them, and
they were guided in their entrance to it by an experienced teacher and
a young helper. For the first few weeks the chief characteristic was
noise; the children rushed up and down the large room, shouting, and
pushing any portable toys they could find. One little boy of 2-1/2
employed himself in what can only be called "punching" the other
children, snatching their possessions away from them and responding to
the teacher by the law of contra-suggestion. He was the most intelligent
child in the school. He generally left a line of weeping children behind
him, and several began to imitate him. The pugnacious instinct requires
little encouragement. Lunch was a period of snatching, spilling, and
making plans to get the best. Many of the toys provided were carelessly
trampled upon and broken: requests to put away things at the end of the
day were almost unavailing.
When the time for sleeping came in the afternoon many of the children
refused to lie down: some consented but only to sing and talk as they
lay. Only one, a child of 2-1/2, slept, because he cried himself to
sleep from sheer strangeness. This apparently unbeautiful picture is
only the first battle of the individual on his entrance to the life of
the community.
On the other hand, there were intervals of keen joy: water, sand and
clay chiefly absorbed the younger children: the older ones wanted to
wash up and scrub, and many spent a good deal of time looking at
picture-books. This was the raw material for the teacher to begin with:
the children came from comfortable suburban homes: none were really
poor, and many had known no privation. They were keen for experiences
and disposed to be very friendly to her.
After five months there is a marked difference in spirit. The noise is
modified because the children found other absorbing interests, though at
times nature still demands voice production. During lunch time and
sleeping time there is quiet, but the teacher has never _asked_ for
silence unless there was some such evident reason. There is no silence
game. The difference has come from within the children. All now lie down
in the afternoon quietly, and the greater number sleep; but there has
been no command or any kind of general plan: again the desire has
gradually come to individuals from suggestion and imitation. Lunch is
quite orderly, but not yet without an occasional accident or struggle.
There is much less fighting, but primitive man is still there. The most
marked development is in the growth of the idea of "taking turns"; the
children have begun to master this all-important lesson of life. The
strong pugnacious habit in the little punching boy reached a point that
showed he was unable to conquer it from within: about two months after
his arrival the teacher consulted his mother, who confirmed all that the
teacher had experienced: her prescription was smacking. After a good
deal of thought and many ineffectual talks and experiments with the boy,
the teacher came to the conclusion that the mother was right: she took
him to the cloakroom after the next outbreak and smacked his hands: he
was surprised and a little hurt, but very soon forgot and continued his
practices: on the next occasion the teacher repeated the punishment and
it was never again necessary. For a few days he was at a loss for an
occupation because punching had become a confirmed habit, but soon other
interests appealed to him: he has never changed in his trust in his
teacher of whom he is noticeably very fond, and he has now realised that
he must control a bad habit. This example has been given at length to
illustrate the relation of government to freedom.
If these children had been in the ordinary Baby Room, subject to a
time-table, to constant plans by the teacher for their activities, few
or none of these occasions would have occurred: the incipient so-called
naughtiness would have been displayed only outside, in the playground or
at home: there would have been little chance of chaos, of fighting, of
punching, of trying to get the best thing and foremost place, there
would have been little opportunity for choice and less real absorption,
because of the time-table. The children would have been happy enough,
but they would not have been trained to live as individuals. Outward
docility is a fatal trait and very common in young children; probably it
is a form of self-preservation. But the real child only lies in wait to
make opportunities out of school. The school is therefore not preparing
him for life.
* * * * *
Freedom in the transition and the junior school must be differently
applied: individual life begins to merge into community life, and the
children begin to learn that things right for individuals may be wrong
for the community. But the problem of freedom is not as easy as the
problem of authority: standards must be greatly altered and outward
docility no longer mistaken for training in self-control. Individual
training cannot suddenly become class discipline, neither can children
be switched from the Nursery School to a full-blown class system.
The idea of class teaching must be postponed, for out of it come most of
the difficulties of discipline, and it is not the natural arrangement at
this transitional period. A teacher is imposing on a number of very
different individuals a system that says their difficulties are alike,
that they must all work at one rate and in one way: and so we have the
weary "reading round" class, when the slow ones struggle and the quick
ones find other and unlawful occupation: we have the number lessons
broken by the teacher's breathless attempts to see that all the class
follows: we have the handwork that imposes an average standard of work
that fits nobody exactly. Intellectual freedom can only come by
individual or group work, while class teaching is only for such
occasions as a literature or a singing lesson, or the presentation of an
occasional new idea in number. Individual and group work need much
organisation, but while classes consist of over forty children there is
no other way to permit intellectual and moral freedom. Of course the
furniture of the room will greatly help to make this more possible, and
it is hoped that an enlightened authority will not continue to supply
heavy iron-framed desks for the junior school, those described as "desks
for listening."
The prevailing atmosphere should be a busy noise and not silence--it
should be the noise of children working, oftener than of the teacher
teaching, _i.e._ teaching the whole class. The teacher should be more
frequently among the children than at her desk, and the children's
voices should be heard more often than hers.
Such children will inevitably become intellectually independent and
morally self-controlled. Most of the order should be taken in hand by
children in office, and they should be distinguished by a badge: most
questions of punishment should be referred to them. This means a
constant appeal to the law that is behind both teacher and children and
which they learn to reach apart from the teacher's control.
"Where 'thou shalt' of the law becomes 'I will' of the doer, then we are
free."
III. CONSIDERATION OF THE ASPECTS OF EXPERIENCE
The aim of the following chapters is to show how principles may be
applied to what are usually known as subjects of the curriculum, and
what place these subjects take in the acquisition of experience. An
exhaustive or detailed treatment of method is not intended, but merely
the establishment of a point of view and method of application.