There can be no doubt that some persons have a natural aptitude for
teaching. As there are born poets, so there are born teachers. Yet the
man born with the true poetic temperament and faculty will never achieve
success as a poet, unless he add study and labor to his natural gift. So
the man born with a talent for teaching needs to cultivate the talent by
patient study and practice, before he can become a thoroughly
accomplished teacher. No man probably ever showed greater native
aptitude for anything, than did Benjamin West for painting. Yet what
long years of toil and study it took for him to become a really great
painter? In teaching, as in every other profession, while men doubtless
differ as to their original qualifications and aptitudes, yet the
differences are not so great as they are often supposed to be, and they
are by no means so great as those produced by study and practice. The
man who has no special gift for this employment, but who faithfully and
intelligently tries to perfect himself in it, is sure to be a better
teacher than the one who has the natural gift, but adds to it no special
study and preparation. Indeed, if we exclude from consideration those
very nice and delicate touches in education, which are so rare as to be
quite exceptional, there is nothing in the business of teaching which
may not be acquired by any person of average ability.
When, therefore, we see a teacher not succeeding in gaining the
attention of his scholars, or in securing obedience and respect, or in
bringing them forward in their lessons, we are not disposed to free such
a person from blame on the plea of his having no natural aptitude for
teaching. We would respectfully say to such a teacher: if you know not
how to impart knowledge, learn how; if you have no tact, get it.
Teaching is a business, as much as knitting stockings, or planting corn.
Either do not undertake to teach at all, or learn how it is to be done.
If one-fourth of the labor bestowed upon the work of teaching were
devoted to studying the business, the value of the remaining
three-fourths would be quadrupled. It is painful to see the amount of
hard work done in school with so little proportionate effect. If a man
who knew nothing of farming, but who had a desire to be useful, were to
dig a pit and bury therein a bushel of corn, and imagine that he was
planting, his labor would not be wider of the mark than much that is
bestowed in school. A man must learn how to do even so simple a thing as
planting corn. Let the teacher also learn how to plant the seeds of
knowledge, how to prepare the soil, how to open it for the reception of
truth, where and when to deposit the precious grains.
I have no desire to discourage those faithful men and women who are so
nobly striving to do good as teachers. But I cannot help expressing the
regret that so much of this labor is without adequate result. Why
should persons act so differently in this matter from what they do in
any other? If a woman wants to make a pair of stockings, she goes to
some other woman who understands knitting, and sees how it is done, and
learns the stitches, tries and experiments, and studies the matter,
until it is all familiar to her. So of any other ordinary business. Yet
when it comes to teaching, anything like definite study or observation
of the mode of doing it, is almost unknown! It is really no exaggeration
to say that many teachers bungle in their work as egregiously as would a
woman who should put yarn into a churn, and expect, after a proper
amount of churning, to draw out stockings.
In our schools are many professional teachers of approved skill. Why
should not a school-teacher, who is conscious of not succeeding as he
would desire, spend an hour occasionally in observation? Find out the
name of some teacher who is particularly successful, and look on while
the work is being done, and if possible see how it is done.
Then again, there are books on the subject, in which the business of
teaching is explained in all its branches. Get some of these books and
read. The mere reading will not make you teachers. But it will set you
to thinking. It will quicken your power of observation. It will help you
to learn from your own experience.
Make a note of the difficulties you encounter, and the points in which
you cannot accomplish what you desire. Very likely you will find these
very difficulties discussed in the books on teaching which you are
reading. If not, lay your difficulties before some friend who is a
successful teacher, and get advice. _Anything_, rather than going on,
week after week, without improvement. There _is_ a way of interesting
your class in their lessons, of securing good order and punctual
attendance, of making the scholars learn. Only make up your mind that
you will find out what that way is. If you think it cannot be done, of
course it will not be done. If you have fairly made up your mind that it
_may_ be done, and that _you_ can do it, it is half done already.
You have no idea how much more pleasant the work will be, when you have
once learned how to do it. One reason why so many teachers desert the
ranks, is the irksomeness produced by want of success. Few things are
more intolerable than being obliged to do a thing while conscious of
doing it in an awkward and bungling manner. On the other hand, almost
any work is a pleasure, which one is conscious of doing well.