CHAPTER X.

THE TEACHER OUTSIDE THE SCHOOL-ROOM.

Teaching has two sides. There is the school-room side and the public

or community side. Each is important. You cannot be a successful

teacher without mastering the first. You can’t hold your job long

unless you have some skill in the second. Your success in a community

is often measured more by the second than the first. In fact, the good

you do, the influence you exert on the lives of the pupils, the net

results of your work, is often a reflex of your skill and ability to

get along with the people, to get their respect, good will and hearty

co-operation.

You must know how to meet and mingle with people. You must understand

your patrons and many of their peculiar neighborhood whims. You must

know enough of human nature to get along with people, to be diplomatic

without being weak, and to get your way without stirring up determined

opposition. Confidence in yourself, freedom from excessive or offensive

egotism, a knowledge of the home life and surroundings of your patrons,

and that rarest of accomplishments, the ability to listen and say

little, these will help you. It will often happen also that you must

teach your patrons, and this requires more skill than to teach pupils.

You must teach them as if you taught them not. You must use diplomacy

without deceit or sham or show of weakness.

There will be certain local standards that you should respect if

you can do so conscientiously. I have taught in neighborhoods where

dancing and card-playing were considered long steps toward everlasting

perdition. The teacher who had gone to a public ball or dared dance

at a private home in the community would have been met with a storm

of opposition. In fact, it would have been almost as bad as if she

had gotten drunk. In such communities a teacher would do well to

avoid such amusements, and if she is skillful she need not commit

herself upon the matter. Leave the people to guess her real sentiment

on these things. On the other hand, if the teacher has been taught

to regard dancing, card-playing and kindred amusements as wrong, and

then teaches in a community where such things are common she need not

indulge in them. With an ordinary share of discretion she need not

give offense in declining invitations to such amusements should they

come. She cannot as a stranger do much in one or two terms toward

changing the sentiment of the community either for or against such

things. After long acquaintance she can build up her circle of friends

where other amusements take the place of these that are under ban.

Even in time she might create a tolerance for such indulgences, but

it is likely to cost more than it will come to. More real good can be

done by looking pleasant, and taking no real active partisan part in

either way. For my own part I can see no sin in a quiet, civil game of

cards. But my mother’s puritanical views forbade such as if it were

satan’s certain snare. Out of respect to my mother’s memory I have

never learned the names of the different cards in a deck, and unless I

simply applied my own judgment of the meaning of words could not tell

one card from another. I lost pleasant evenings occasionally during

my university course because of this “narrowness” as many called it.

Occasionally now, I must decline an evening out or else be a drag to

the entertainment feature. I have never offended any one so far as I

know, nor lost their respect and good will by refusing to take part

in a game. The sacred memory of my angel mother who died when I was

a child has far more than compensated me for all the pleasure I have

lost. For the other person, I can see no harm in a quiet game of cards;

for me to break my boyhood promise and later resolution would not only

rob it of all pleasure but would be a positive personal loss.

There are other indulgences also that the teacher must forego for

the sake of public opinion. Many a young man has lost a splendid

opportunity to make a reputation of being a good teacher in a community

by being indiscreet in keeping company. However unobjectionable the

girl, and however much he may be interested, he must remember that much

of the world dislikes a lover if that lover be the school teacher of

the neighborhood. People that think or care very little what the young

man in the store or the postoffice do, will resent too much company

keeping for the teacher. The young woman teaching should be even more

careful about keeping company. It is not good policy to do it, and it

will be more pleasure in the long run to be with young people, but do

very little keeping of young men’s company.

With your patrons you may be more free. Strict etiquette might dictate

that you wait until they have called on you. If you wait you will

know few of them and meet these after trouble has come up and they

call on you to make complaint. The teacher, like the preacher, if

there is strong personality and good address, can ignore many little

formalities, and no one will question it. Make the acquaintance of

as many of your patrons early in the term as you can. Be cordial, be

pleasant, be brief. Do not fawn. Do not gush nor bubble over. Do not

find fault. Do not tell all your plans for the year or make glowing

promises. Be yourself, but be your best self. Do not talk shop all

the time. Do not talk Shakespeare, politics, religion or the higher

criticism. You might soon interest them in the second and third, but

a discussion would probably do you no good. The first and last they

probably know little about and care less. Your ability to make friends

and to mix with people is limited often by your ability to talk to the

other person about something in which he is interested. The hardest

clam will open if you know how and where to touch it.

Learn how to shake hands. You are often judged by the handshake. The

hand, the eye, the voice--these if used properly quickly overcome

prejudice and barriers of opposition and build up forces in your favor.

If you can shake hands with a firm, hearty grasp, meet the eye with

frankness and composure, and speak in a pleasing, even, well-modulated,

quieting voice, you have the strength of Gibraltar at your back. If

you have knowledge and skill and personality and character to back the

first impression made by such a combination, you should be invincible.

If your handshake, however, is loose and passive, Uriah Heep-like, if

your eyes wander, and your voice is screechy or faltering, you should

begin at once to overcome these obstacles. They lie in your road to

success as a teacher, and you should lose no time in trying to overcome

them.

Many teachers lack poise. If you prefer, you may think of it as

personality or force of character. Whatever term you may use to name

it, it remains true that many teachers lack the ability to command

attention and respect, and to mingle readily among the best business

and professional men of the community. It is sometimes want of

experience, it is sometimes want of knowledge, and breadth of vision.

Teachers are too often narrow. They do not have the world view of

things they should have. It is sometimes bookishness and lack of

contact with the practical business side of the world. I am sorry to

think that it is sometimes caused by the feeling that the fact you are

a teacher is something to be apologized for. Teachers are so often

inclined to whimper and whine, to seek to be pitied and petted. They

brood over their imaginary troubles. They conclude the world does

not properly appreciate their efforts. They want the public to grant

them special favors and attentions instead of commanding the respect

and attention of the community by weight of their own strength and

personality.

The teacher should strive first to be a man or a woman in the best

sense of the term, strong mentally, morally and physically, with

personality and independence, but without rudeness. He should command

respect as a thinking person, avoid eccentricities and partisan

measures, have opinions of his own, but without flaunting them in the

face of others to provoke combat or opposition. Then to the respect

due him as a man will come, if his teaching justifies, the additional

respect due him as a teacher.

The teacher should ever be the apostle of education and high thinking,

a living example of the best product of the school and its worth. To

be a consistent preacher of right living, high thinking, and the power

of education in the progress and development of the state, he himself

should be a worthy example. Of all persons the teacher should be the

champion and the defender of the school and the cause of education.

He should be a high example of the best product of the schools and

education. His power, his carriage, his character, his thrift, his

independence, his zeal in good works, should bear testimony and be

the strongest argument for the schools. A genuinely good teacher,

who has the intellectual and moral force to be a man among men, such

a teacher in a few years will create a public sentiment that will

demand good schools, buildings, equipment and teachers of the best, in

the community in which he teaches. His influence will bear fruit for

generations.

As long as the teacher is a weakling, a figure-head, a crank, an

upstart, a person whose opinion--if he has one--on business or on

the questions of the day would be hooted or laughed at by every

level-headed business man of the community, there is little sentiment

for schools or education developed. If the whole energy of the teacher

is exhausted in keeping the problems solved in advance of his class,

if his personal appearance, his carriage, his address, his thrift, and

his thoughts are below the average business man of the community, many

of whom have little or no education or school training, it places the

school on the defensive. The hard-headed, but sober-minded, man of

affairs will look upon the teacher as a fair sample and typical product

of the schools, and will not regret that he lost such opportunities

when he was young, or perhaps he will thank his stars that he did not

have such things forced upon him.

My contention is that the teacher should be a man or woman of strong

personality, a worthy product of the school, a person whose judgment

and opinion of schools, of business, of the questions and the issues of

the day would be such that it would be respected by the best people of

the community. His opinions should have weight. He should have all the

elements that go to make up a successful business career. He should be

a man of force and character, whose influence would be felt in any line

he should take up. With such teachers the schools will become what they

should be. Such teachers will get results--results of the teaching act

and results in the material equipment of the schools. Buildings will

improve, conditions will improve, furniture and proper apparatus will

be forthcoming. The community will soon begin to look upon the schools

as safe investments, every dollar of which yields golden dividends;

then the community will be generous.

When teachers possess the strength, the force, the poise, the diplomacy

they should, good things will follow. Some of the criticism and carping

about the schools will be changed. It makes my Scotch-Irish blood to

tingle when I hear a few of these questions discussed. If it is not the

teacher’s business to defend the school whose is it?

One of these things that should arouse a teacher is the insinuation

still met in a few localities and among a few people--the would-be

blue-bloods, with more inheritance of money than brains--that the

public schools are pauper schools; or at least schools for poor people

only. Such sentiment in free America seems to me born of ignorance or

treason. I first heard it advocated by a physician, a native of New

York, a graduate of a church endowed school and a product of it. His

alma mater was supported by the contribution box passed at regular

intervals in his church to which many a poor washerwoman contributed

a far greater percentage of her earnings each time than the same

physician did in a twelve months. Yet this good hypocritically pious,

but deluded man, ridiculed the thought of the state supporting a

university at public expense. He kept private tutors to teach his

children that they might not have to attend the public school to mix

with all “the rabble,” as he declared. There could not be a better

indictment of his own education. He had failed to grasp the spirit of

American liberty and American institutions. His ideas were those of

effete aristocracy and wealth. The best lesson his boy may ever learn

will be when some son of a washerwoman, or some poor paper boy or

news seller meets him in competition in after life, and he goes down

ignominiously in the contest. The chances are if the contest comes, and

it will come in the present generation or in a near generation, the

sturdy bootblack will win. This same physician did not think himself a

partaker of charity by getting his mail at a government postoffice, by

drinking from a public fountain or having his house and lot protected

from the lake by Uncle Sam’s break water.

It is the duty of the state to educate. This is not the rich nor

the poor, but all. The state’s schools are maintained as a public

necessity, and for the whole people. The patron whose child attends

the public school is no more an object of charity or a pauper for that

reason than he is for patronizing the postoffice, using the city paved

streets or using the street lamps at night. There are many things

the public can do and do much more efficiently than they can be done

otherwise. Education is one of these things. Every man, woman and child

is benefited by good public schools, the bachelor and the childless

family as well as the family of a dozen children.

Another fallacy often advocated is that the people are not able to

support good schools. Nothing can have a less foundation in fact. Let

us think about it. It is a principle that is almost axiomatic that no

people can be pauperized by local taxes applied to local purposes.

Now, very little of the school taxes ever leaves the immediate

community. The teacher is often one of the community, and many times

of the immediate neighborhood. If the teacher is from a distance he

usually boards in the neighborhood and spends much of his earnings

in the neighborhood. The percentage of his salary that leaves the

community is not large. The expense of wood, repairs, and supplies

are usually spent in the immediate community. The money that leaves

the community is, as a rule, not as much as the state pays toward the

maintenance of the school. No people can be pauperized by the money

properly spent on their schools. It is only a short time until the

increased earning capacity of the more intelligent citizenship soon

begins to pay good dividends on the investment, even though part of the

money should find its way out of the community.

When the cry came to us from Cuba in 1898, no one claimed that we

were too poor to help. When later disturbances occurred, we sent our

soldiers to maintain peace, and our secretary of war and assistant

secretary of state were sent to restore order. No one said it cost too

much. Count the cost of our war with Spain and place against it the

money spent in the same time for schools and in fighting ignorance and

then say if we are able to have good schools. Spend the money to train

our young people to future usefulness which is spent in defense against

imaginary foreign enemies and the _world_ could not stand against us in

a generation.

Few Americans but point with pride to our growing navy, now world

famous and we hope effective. The launching of each new war ship is a

thrilling event to the nation. The daily papers for weeks tell of its

progress and every trifling event is carefully chronicled. Count how

long the cost of one of these vessels would support one of our state

universities. The mission of the university is to build up, to increase

human intelligence and happiness. The mission of the war vessel is to

destroy life and property and to make desolate.

Figure on these things, and then say whether or not we are too poor to

have the best of schools.

Twenty Talks to Teachers · 第 10 / 20 章