by James C. Dobson, Ph.D

A former superintendent of public instruction in the state of California is quoted as saying, "To say that children have an innate love of learning is as muddleheaded as to say that children have an innate love of baseball. Some do. Some don't. Left to themselves, a large percentage of the small fry will go fishing, pick a fight, tease the girls, or watch Superman on the boob tube. Even as you and I!"

It is a valid observation. Most of the time students will not invest one more ounce of effort in their studies than is required, and that fact has frustrated teachers for hundreds of years. Our schools, therefore, must have enough structure and discipline to require certain behavior from their students. This is advantageous not only for academic reasons, but because one of the purposes of education is to prepare the young for later life.

To survive as an adult in this society, one needs to know how to work, how to get there on time, how to get along with others, how to stay with a task until completed and, yes, how to submit to authority. In short, it takes a good measure of self-discipline and control to cope with the demands of modern living. Maybe one of the greatest gifts a loving teacher can contribute to an immature child, therefore, is to help him learn to sit when he feels like running, to raise his hand when he feels like talking, to be polite to his neighbor, to stand in line without smacking the kid in front, and to do language arts when he feels like doing football.

As the first official voice of the school, the primary teacher is in a position to construct positive attitudinal foundations on which future educators can build, or conversely, she can fill her young pupils with contempt and disrespect. A child's teachers during the first six years will largely determine the nature of his attitude toward authority and the educational climate in junior and senior high school (and beyond).

I taught school for several years before completing my graduate training and learned more about how children think from that daily exposure than could ever have been assimilated from a textbook. It was also enlightening to observe the disciplinary techniques utilized by other teachers. Some of them exercised perfect classroom control with little effort, while others faced the perpetual humiliation of student defiance. I observed that there was a fundamental difference in the way they approached their classes.

Out of Control

The unskilled teacher would stand in front of the boys and girls and immediately seek their affection. Although most good teachers want to be liked by their classes, some are very dependent on the acceptance of the children. On the first day of school in September, the new teacher, Miss Peach, gives the class a little talk which conveys this message: "I'm so glad we had a chance to get together. This is going to be such a fun year for you; we're going to make soap and soup, and we're going to paint a mural that will cover the entire wall. We'll take field trips and play games ... this is going to be a great year. You're going to love me and I'm going to love you, and we'll just have a ball."

Her curriculum is well-saturated with fun, fun, fun activities, which are her tokens of affection to the class. All goes well the first day of school, because the students are a little intimidated by the start of a new academic year. But about three days later, little Butch is sitting over at the left and he wants to know what everyone else is questioning too: How far can we push Miss Peach? He is anxious to make a name for himself as a brave toughie, and he might be able to build his reputation at Miss Peach's expense.

At a well-calculated moment, he challenges her with a small act of defiance. Now the last thing Miss Peach wants is conflict, because she had hoped to avoid that sort of thing this year. She does not accept Butch's challenge; she pretends not to notice that he didn't do what she told him to do. He wins this first minor confrontation. Everyone in the class saw what happened; it wasn't a big deal, but Butch survived unscathed.

The next day, Matthew has been greatly encouraged by Butch's success. Shortly after the morning flag salute, he defies a little more openly than Butch did, and Miss Peach again ignores the challenge. From that moment forward, chaos begins to grow and intensify.

Two weeks later Miss Peach is beginning to notice that things are not going very well. She's doing a lot of screaming each day and doesn't know how it got started; she certainly didn't intend to be an angry teacher.

By February, life has become intolerable in her classroom; every new project she initiates is sabotaged by her lack of control. And then the thing she wanted least begins to happen: The students openly reveal their contempt for her. They call her names; they laugh at her weaknesses. If she has a physical flaw, such as a large nose or poor eyesight, they point this out to her regularly.

Miss Peach cries quietly at recess time, and her head throbs and pounds late into the night. The principal comes in and witnesses the anarchy, and he says, "Miss Peach, you must get control of this class!" But Miss Peach doesn't know how to get control because she doesn't know how she lost it.

It has been estimated that 80 percent of the teachers who quit their jobs after the first year do so because of an inability to maintain discipline in their classroom. Some colleges and teacher training programs respond to this need by offering specific courses in methods of control. Others do not! Some state legislatures require formal coursework to help teachers handle this first prerequisite to teaching. Others do not, despite the fact that learning is impossible in a chaotic classroom!

A Firm Hand

Consider the contrasting approach of the skillful teacher, Mrs. Justice. She wants the love of the class too, but she is more keenly aware of her responsibility to the students. On the first day of school she delivers her inaugural address, but it is very different from the one being spoken by Miss Peach. She says, in effect, "This is going to be a good year, and I'm glad you are my students. I want you to know that each one of you is important to me. I hope you will feel free to ask your questions, and enjoy learning in this class; I will not allow anyone to laugh at you, because it hurts to be laughed at. I will never embarrass you intentionally, and I want to be your friend. Well, we have some work to do so let's get started. Would you take out your math books and turn to page 4?"

Mrs. Justice just sounds like she knows what she's doing. Neverthe-less, Butch's counterpart makes himself known about three days later. (There's at least one Butch in every classroom. If the troublemaker leaves during the year, a new demagogue will rise to take his place.) He challenges Mrs. Justice in a small way, but she was not caught unprepared. She's been expecting him, and she socks it to him. He loses big! Everyone in the class gets the message: It doesn't pay to attack Mrs. J. Wow! Poor Butch didn't do so well, did he?

Mrs. Justice then delivers a little speech she has been saving for this moment. She says, "There's something each of you should know. Your parents have given me the responsibility of teaching you some very important things this year, and I intend not to disappoint them. I have to get you ready for the things you will need to know next year. That's why I can't let one or two show-offs keep me from doing my job. Now, if you want to try to interfere with that purpose and disrupt what we're here to do, I can tell you it will be a miserable year for you. I have many ways to make you uncomfortable, and I will not hesitate to use them. Any questions? Good, let's get back to work."

Mrs. Justice then proceeds to follow a little formula that I favor, tongue in cheek: Don't smile till Thanksgiving. By November, this competent teacher has made her point. The class knows she's tougher, wiser, and braver than they are. Here comes the good news: Then they begin to enjoy the pleasure of this foundation. She can loosen her control; the class can laugh together, talk together, and play together. But when she says, "It is time to get back to work," they do it because they know she is capable of enforcing her leadership. She does not scream. She does not hit. In fact, she can pour out the individual attention that most children need so badly. The class responds with deep love that will never be forgotten in those 32 lives. Mrs. Justice has harvested the greatest source of satisfaction available in the teaching profession: awareness of profound influence on human lives.

Let me add, in conclusion, that there are tens of thousands of "Mrs. Justices" out there in public and private education today, who have put their lives on the line for their students. They should be among the most highly respected members of society because of their contribution to the development of human potential. Each of us can think back to teachers like Mrs. J. in our earlier years who inspired us with a love of learning and helped make us who we are.

There are many men and women who hold this place of honor for me. I think of Mrs. McAnally, my high school English teacher. She was tough as nails, but I loved her. I thought she was going to work me to death, but she taught me the fundamentals of grammar. She also taught me to keep my big mouth shut and listen to what I was told. In college and graduate school there were other strong professors who shaped and molded my thinking.

In each case, their contributions to my life came through the avenue of discipline. Formal learning is impossible without it. The boring professors who asked and received nothing from me have been forgotten. The ones I remember today are those who invested themselves in me, and wouldn't take anything less than my best in return.

In Praise of Teachers

Sliding test scores and increasing violence on campus have resulted in a rash of bashing teachers for the problems. Dr. Dobson believes educators have been blamed simplistically, and at times unfairly, for what is a complex social problem:

Before we leap to blame the educators for everything that has gone wrong, we need to take another look at the culture. The teachers and school administrators who guide our children have been among the most maligned and underappreciated people in our society. They are an easy target for abuse. They are asked to do a terribly difficult job, and yet they are criticized almost daily for circumstances beyond their control. Some of their critics act as though educators are deliberately failing our kids.

I strongly disagree. We would still be having serious difficulties in our schools if the professionals did everything right. Why? Because what goes on in the classroom cannot be separated from the problems occurring in society at large. Educators certainly can't be blamed for the condition our kids are in when they arrive at school each day. It's not the teachers' fault that families are unraveling and that large numbers of their students have been sexually and/or physically abused, neglected, and undernourished. They can't keep kids from watching mindless television or R-rated videos until midnight, or from using illegal substances or alcohol. In essence, when the culture begins to crumble from massive social problems that defy solutions, the schools will also look bad. That's why even though I disagree with many of the trends in modern education, I sympathize with the dedicated teachers and principals out there who are trying to do the impossible on behalf of our youngsters.

James C. Dobson, Ph.D., is the president of Focus on the Family and a former teacher, counselor and school psychologist. This article is excerpted from The New Dare to Discipline

Copyright © 1992 James C. Dobson. Published by Tyndale House Publishers.