THE SPIRIT OF THE TEACHER.
The more one studies the forces which combined make a successful
school, the more he sees that the teacher is the all-important
factor. Buildings, grounds, furniture, apparatus, books, all these
are important--and the material equipment of a school makes much
difference--but over and above these and vastly more important than
these, is the spirit of the teacher. From the contact of mind with
mind grows a quickened intellect. Mark Hopkins on one end of a log and
Garfield on the other, these, Garfield said, would make a university.
The teacher whose soul is on fire with her work, the pupil who is
willing to learn, these are the essentials of a good school. The
teacher, one whose heart is in the work, one who realizes the dignity
and the importance of teaching, one who not only knows the subject to
be taught and the laws of mental development, but has that innate tact
and worth and personal magnetism that draws young people to her, such a
teacher is a priceless gem. Such a teacher brings order out of chaos.
The pupils feel the magnetism of her presence. She enters into their
very lives, lifting them to higher things and leading the way.
It is the spirit of a teacher that governs a school. In one room is
disorder, a spirit of idleness and sometimes defiance, carelessness and
contempt for all that is pure and good and noble in school life--loose
paper, marred desks, paper wads, marked walls--you know the signs.
The teacher among her personal friends and intimate acquaintances
speaks always in contempt of the pupils, calling them her “mean
kids,” “hateful little imps,” “despisable brats,” etc. She longs for
the monthly return of pay day and the end of the term. She scolds,
frets, punishes, threatens, bribes and coaxes by turns and in rapid
succession, and then expresses surprise that the pupils of her room
take little interest in their work and are so “torn down mean.” She is
lacking in natural dignity and seriousness, and wonders why her pupils
are frivolous. She makes no daily preparation of lessons and cannot
understand why the children do not study. She is the giddiest of the
giddy in talking about her beaux, and wonders why the school girls are
so rude as to speak about their “fellows.”
The pupils of another room--and often the same pupils under another
teacher--are quiet, orderly, obedient, respectful and studious. She
does not gush. She is not petty and has no pets. She is quiet, bright,
cheerful, cheery, orderly, serious, natural, and has confidence in her
pupils. She speaks kindly and affectionately of her boys and girls,
neither thinking them faultless nor lauding them to the skies. Her
every act is an inspiration to her pupils. She plans her work, she
works to her plans, and the pupils both consciously and unconsciously
imitate her. She shapes the lives and destinies of her pupils for the
better. The work of such a teacher is above all money value. The former
is dear at any price.
The spirit of the teacher shows itself in the intellectual attitude of
the pupils. The teacher should be a living fountain, not a stagnant
pool. The growing mind is alone fit to teach. The best, the life-giving
teaching, which makes the pupil’s soul thirst for more is not being
done by men and women who have long since _completed_ their education.
I pity the high school pupil whose teacher adds nothing to his
intellectual growth each year. Were I seeking an institution in which
to educate a boy of mine, I should care very little for the religious
creed of the faculty, but I should prefer that there was diversity
among them and I should want good morals. I should care little for
the political faith of his teachers, but I should want them honest in
their convictions. My first and deepest concern would be the spirit of
the teachers in charge of the school. I should want a faculty mature
enough to have lost much of its freshness, but fresh enough to be
growing still. The average age should not exceed forty, men growing in
knowledge day by day, each strong in his specialty but pushing forward
to new and better things, broad enough to grasp life and to see things
from more than one angle, men whose gaze and hope is turned to the
sunrise and not to the sunset, men who are winning laurels and making
a name in their profession rather than men who have won laurels and
made a name and are now resting. Such teachers and the spirit of such
teaching would show in the intellectual attitude of the boy.
The spirit of the teacher will show itself in the pupil’s view of life.
I often think of one of my favorite teachers. I have forgotten most of
the lessons he taught me from books. Much of the algebra he taught me
has been relearned or else I do not know it. I violate daily many of
the rules of syntax he tried so hard to teach me, and yet he taught
me one of the greatest lessons of my life. He looked on life with a
broad perspective. He was liberal-minded. He taught us, unconsciously
perhaps, to be generous in our judgments of others. He opened our
minds and our lives to the beauties and harmonies of nature all about
us. The sunset took a brighter tint, the rainbow showed a deeper
color, the pansy gave a more delicate odor, life gleamed broader and
sweeter because of the unconscious inspiration of this man’s life.
Cheerfulness, hope, faith, trust in the eternal triumph of right
should be a part of every teacher’s faith. No carping, sour-grained,
narrow-minded teacher ever did much to develop healthy, hearty, liberal
views of life in the pupil. One of the greatest misfortunes of our
schools is the fact that occasionally such teachers are found in them.
The spirit of the teacher is shown in the attitude of the pupil in his
daily work. She cheers or depresses. Constant nagging would drag down
angels. If there is anything that saps the mental life of pupils, dulls
their intellectual desires, disgusts them with school and all that
pertains to it, it is the spirit of the grumbling, growling, whining,
probing, complaining teacher. Occasionally we meet such a teacher in
the schools, and her work is followed by the wreck of childish hopes
and ambitions. Her very atmosphere is blighting and dwarfing. Have you
ever met such a teacher? I trust not, and yet I fear you have. Here is
a sample:
“Now, George, you may tell us about Braddock’s defeat. Stand up and
tell us all about it. You remember you had that topic yesterday and did
not know it. I told you to take your book home with you last night and
to study all about this topic, you remember. You may stand up now and
try it again. Stand up straight. Get out from the desk. Now, that is
better. I have told you several times how I wanted you to stand when
you recite. Put down that rule and take your hand out of your pocket.
How often am I to tell you about that.
“A little louder, I can’t hear you. I told you the other day to speak
loud enough that you could be heard by any one in any part of the
room. You must remember what I tell you.
“Now, that is better. Stand up straight. Now, tell us all about
Braddock’s defeat. Begin over again. ‘Braddock was a British general
sent over to this country to help us,’ well that is all right so far.
Go on. Who was Braddock? Who was he and what had he done? Tell us all
about him.... Well, if the book does not say, you ought to have looked
it up in some other book. Didn’t I tell you I wanted you to read other
histories and not to depend on one text-book?
“Now, stand up and tell us all you know about Braddock’s defeat. You’ve
had that topic two days, and surely you can tell us something. You have
got to study your history. Take your book home with you to-night and
study the lesson three or four times. A great big boy like you ought to
know history. You will want to vote sometime. I would be ashamed if I
were you. Study that topic so you can tell us all about it to-morrow.
Remember this class completes history this year. If you are to be
promoted you will have to work. We will have an examination on all of
these topics, and after we have had these lessons over and over again,
if you do not pass it is not my fault. You will have to work, young
man, or fail. That is all I have to say about it.
“Remember, you have got to learn this lesson next time. If I were you,
I would try to use my brains, if I had any. It makes me tired when I
have to tell and tell you what to do and you do not care a cent. I am
just doing my best to help you, and you do not seem to appreciate it a
bit. I would be ashamed, and you would be if you had the least bit of
get up to you.
“Now, we must close. For to-morrow we shall review to-day’s lesson and
take down to the bottom of page 105, down to where you see the big,
black-faced letters which say, ‘William Pitt is made Prime Minister.’
I wonder what a Prime Minister is, anyhow. Well, you may think about
that. You may get down _to_ that topic for next time. Now, study this
lesson well, so that you can recite it right off to-morrow. Get a good
lesson next time. We did not get over the lesson to-day. Let’s do
better next time. Class excused.”
Of course, George left the recitation with a burning desire to learn
all about Braddock’s defeat. The inspiration was sufficient to do him
for life. The inspiration from the recitation in other subjects being
of the same satisfying kind, he withdrew from school two months later.
The spirit of a teacher sometimes kills.
The school, large or small, country or town, blest with a teacher of
broad mold, liberal-minded, active, studious, still learning, virtuous
and pure-minded, such a school is a dynamic force for good in the
neighborhood. Such a teacher is not worried by bad boys. Her energy
is not sapped by keeping order. She does not nervously pound the desk
or the call bell for quiet. Her very attitude begets quiet without
having to demand it. She may sit down and hear a recitation. Composure
on her part gets composure on the part of the pupils. If John forgets
himself and gets into mischief a look from her settles him. She does
not have to stop the recitation every few minutes to reprimand. She
does not nervously walk the aisle to keep order while she is hearing
a recitation. If a boy is devoid of principle and persists in doing
annoying things she lets him come to her instead of rushing back
after him. Her look of indignation and scorn makes him feel his
insignificance, and he does not try it often. She has learned the
lesson of letting the offender do the walking instead of the teacher.
When patrons and officials learn that it is the personality and
individuality, or the spirit of the teacher that counts in teaching,
then will they discriminate between teachers and school keepers, and be
willing to pay the former living salaries and encourage the others to
try new fields of labor.