
There
are some lovely little towns in Eastern Ontario. Some of them have
been placed along the banks of rivers of which there are many in that
part of the Province. The Ottawa and the Mississippi rivers come
readily to mind. Some of the towns have fascinating histories as mill
towns, small manufacturing towns, some of them purely agrarian-related,
largely serving the adjacent farming communities. Some of them, like
colourful, quaint Merrickville, have historical locks and docks on the
Rideau River. Others, like Pakenham, have distinguishing features that
are quite remarkable, like the five-span bridge, quite an engineering
feat of its time, standing over the Mississippi right at the
ever-raging, powerful rapids cascading downriver.
Life in these
small towns carries on at a somewhat different pace than, say in Ottawa,
an hour or more distant by car. And many people who live rurally drive
that hour or more from where they live in these small rural communities
to their workplaces in Ottawa. Some drive to Renfrew, or to Arnprior for
work, and some people living in Renfrew or Arnprior or Cornwall will
drive right into Ottawa, commuting that long drive back and forth, daily
to their places of employment.
The children who live in those
small towns attend school right where they live. Be it Almonte or
Pakenham, Renfrew or Arnprior. The Upper Canada School Board has
jurisdiction in part of that area, and like all school boards it is
cognizant of the need of young Canadians to be educated, to be exposed,
through good teaching, to all that they will require to know to go on to
achieve a higher level of education and finally join the general
workforce as educated adults, a credit to their society, to their
country.
Many of these schools have been long established to ensure that
Ontario children living in the eastern portion of the province, as
elsewhere, do receive a good education. Some of them provide, in fact,
an outstanding educational experience for their students, as we learn
from an Ontario-based study outlining the successes or lack thereof, seen
among public elementary and high schools throughout the province. Some
schools, in some small towns distinguish themselves by the quality of
the educational experience they offer to their charges.
And some
just kind of plug along. Imagine your child attending a small school,
meant to hold up to 250 students, but latterly school enrolment having
gradually fallen well below the 200-student mark, classes become
combined, so one teacher will provide the educational needs for split
grades. It seems to work reasonably well. And there are many teachers
who are innovative, patient and determined to discharge their
professional obligations to their students in the best possible way.
Some
of these teachers are truly leaders in their field, an inspiration to
others, doing a difficult and needful job. Some teachers are truly
professional in the seriousness of their regard for the students whom
they teach. For others it’s just a job. They may have gone into the
profession with a high-minded intent, but somehow, along the way, become
dispirited and disinterested and disengaged. It does happen. It is,
after all, a very high-stress profession. For which teachers in Canada
unlike their counterparts in the United States, are generously
compensated. Their remuneration is far higher, in recognition of what
they are meant to achieve, and in recognition of the difficulties
inherent in instilling a love for learning in children, and stimulating
it. Or, at the very least, somehow managing not to stifle children’s
natural affinity for learning.
Many succeed, some with a great
deal of difficulty, and many do not. If a child is fortunate enough,
he/she will experience the full range; exposure to well-intentioned but
inadequate teaching methods taught by an indifferent teacher; exposure
to a perennially-enthusiastic, determined and brilliant teacher who
justifies her pride in her profession by discharging her obligations
with flying colours. And, of course, everything in between those
extremes.
For those children, in their formative years, being
exposed to a teacher who is functionally incapable of managing a
classroom of lively students without bullying them, without collapsing
into a jelly of self-pity, without boring them with her/his personal
problems, without failing to adequately ensure that children fully
understand one lesson before moving on to the next, the school year can
present as a total failure.
Under those circumstances, the school
experience represents a tidemark of failure because the teacher has
failed to guide the class toward the advances they are required to make
throughout the school year. Particularly gifted children, those with a
good memory, those with plenty of help from parents who have the time,
the inclination, the understanding and the functional knowledge, can
manage to retrieve something from the school year. But little thanks
due to the teacher.
Parents have a tendency to overlook these
unfortunate failures, simply because they recall their own experiences
when they were young, coping with a teacher whose abilities and
dedication to her task were insufficient to the job at hand. They sigh,
recall that they managed to get over it and get on with their lives and
trust that their children will, too. Adversity, after all, is no
stranger to any of our lives. We must learn, even at a young,
impressionable age -- perhaps particularly then to a degree -- that life
sometimes is a struggle, just as true in the learning environment of a
dysfunctional classroom, as it is later on in life when we must balance
social interactions and workplace problems to find our own authentic
place.
It does, however, behoove us all to give some thought to
the tender sensibilities of adolescents, those children on the cusp of
young adulthood, still clinging to childhood, confused by the
change-over, by their hormones busy transforming them physically and
confusing them psychically. They are taught -- by example, one trusts --
to respect others, to view with a certain equanimity differences between
people, and to give equal weight to one another’s right to be slightly
different, whether that difference manifests itself by culture,
traditions, heritage, ethnicity, ideology or skin colour. Above all,
they are taught to be deferential to authority, beginning with their
parents, transferring to their teachers, and perhaps culminating with
those who have seen far more of life than they have.
Society does
have a hierarchy of respect due. In the same token, respect for the
individuality of young people, their aspirations and their dignity
should be reciprocated. Children are sent to school by parents anxious
to ensure their children have the benefit of a decent education. There
are alternate options, including home schooling, but there is no opting
out of parental responsibility to have children schooled.
Correspondingly, parents have a social obligation to have taught their
children basic respect for others. Their children have every right to
expect that they themselves will be respected.
How respectful is
it of the rights of children to be schooled in a functioning environment
when a teacher descends to hysterics on an ongoing basis? Accusing her
class of stupidity, of failing to obey her injunctions, and treating
them in the process to days surfeit with screaming and ranting at them.
Collectively and singly. Take, for example, a mixed grade 7 and 8, and
you have a room full of pre-teens, balanced by teen-agers. That is a
potent mix. But a teacher with a calm demeanour, one imbued with
emotional balance and experience in the classroom should be quite
capable of influencing her class to pay attention, to settle down, and
to eschew verbal outbursts.
With their own teacher continually
berating them, impugning the level of their intelligence, screaming
loudly for what seems to the class for hours at a time in high dudgeon
over what they have collectively, or some unfortunate student singly has
done to irritate the teacher, they have her example. When the teacher
engages in hysterical outbursts of uncontrolled anger and bullying, how
is it a surprise that the class then finds it difficult to respect her?
Of
course, if they don’t respect her, they forbear to listen to her
injunctions and have a tendency to ‘act out’. It’s a self-fulfilling
prophecy. And an endless circuit of dysfunctionality.
And take,
for example, a principal of the school who, observing these things
occurring -- particularly as this particular teacher has a pronounced
tendency to send those pupils who have mightily displeased her ‘down to
the office’, and occasionally to the attention of the principal, because
she is incapable of dealing with them -- tries to understand what is
happening. Having spoken tentatively to the teacher, and having
received the information that the class is impossible, comprised of
halfwits and stubbornly-raucous misfits, she decides to take a different
tack.
She sets aside time from her schedule to call a
conference. While the teacher takes half of the class off to gym, the
principal sits down with the other half, those representing the grade 8
students. And she asks them what is going on, and why. Some of the
children are silent, reluctant to say anything. A few do speak up, and
relate to the principal that while it is true that some of the students
are hard to handle, it’s a very few students who are actually
trouble-makers. And one of them is a boy who has an anger management
problem. Which the principal well knows, having integrated him into the
regular stream.
The other students also know this and are
careful to stay out of this boy’s way, although occasionally he will
swing out in anger, usually at another boy, but occasionally at a girl.
That, however, is not the problem. The problem is, one says, that
their teacher cannot control her anger, lashes out at them, and upsets
everyone unnecessarily. Her behaviour, one girl claims, is far worse
than the obstreperous behaviour of the younger boys who are admittedly
sometimes ill behaved.
The principal turns her attention to this
girl, and asks her if she will elaborate. And the girl does. She speaks
her mind and tells the principal that she resents the fact that the
classroom is not one conducive to a good learning environment. She is
aggrieved that their teacher will not control her physical outbursts
which, when they occur, upset everyone. And only serve to further
enrage the teacher herself. If she starts out the day in a bad mood,
that mood only seems to increase in feverish accusations and screaming
the rest of the day.
The principal listens, quietly,
thoughtfully. And when the girl is finished, the principal turns to the
others sitting there and asks what they think of what they’ve just
heard. They are in complete agreement. The principal ends the session,
thanks all of the students, turns to the outspoken girl and asks if she
is prepared to say what she just told the principal, directly to her
teacher. The girl says she is prepared to do just that.
But it
never happens. Although directly after this little conference the
students who were in attendance spoke among themselves about whether
they would see some changes take place, and some of them thought it
would happen, some thought nothing would change. The outspoken girl
said she thought it wasn’t likely anything was about to change.
And
she was right. And, funny thing that, although the teacher continued
abusing the class, bullying them, harassing them, claiming they were
idiots all, and if a student approached her to ask for help with a
particular subject her reward would be a snarl that if she’d been
listening adequately in the first place she wouldn’t be asking for help
afterward, nothing was said to the outspoken girl.
Fact is, that
outspoken girl seemed to be a favourite target of the teacher. Who
would speak to the girl disparagingly of her single mother, unable to
come to night-time occasions at the school. And who seemed forever
openly critical of everything the girl did. Oh, not always,
occasionally there was a flicker of appreciation for something the girl
had done. Her marks more or less reflected her impeccable slate of
completed assignments, and her interest and engagement with those school
subjects she found she could relate to readily.
She hated it
when the teacher became personal, remarked on things she had no right to
do. It wasn’t bad when she was cited approvingly for helping a shy boy
find a place for himself in the class. But when the teacher castigated
her for breaking off a long-standing friendship with one of the other
students, taking the other student’s side in an issue that had nothing
to do with the teacher and everything to do with familial abuse which
the affected girl carried over into her personal relationships with
others, she took offence.
And then, wasn’t it quite amazing when,
several months after that principal-student conference, the outspoken
girl was called to the office and given a ‘certificate of appreciation’
for having the courage to speak up and give her version of events as
they had occurred, though nothing was done to ameliorate the situation.