Rules Should Serve Kids Not Adults

Today it’s cell phones and backpacks.  Depending upon your generation, it was chewing gum, the length of girls’ skirts, boys’ low-slung jeans and exposed boxers, high school boys with face hair, or checking that every child showered after PE class.  There always has been a rule that school enforces upon children, an arbitrary rule with disciplinary repercussions. Why?

Pecking order of rules.

School rules fall into a pecking order.  There are hard and fast rules and soft and contextual rules.  At the top of the order are the generalized, little argument, good for everyone rules.  They read like a Ten Commandments for students.  Respect one another.  No fighting.  No weapons.  No drugs.  No stealing.  No cheating.  Stay seated while the bus is moving.  These Commandments don’t need a lot of retelling to children and don’t get push back unless a child is caught breaking one of them.  Even then, harsh consequences are understood because breaking one of these is a school sin.

In the middle of the order are rules that make sense if someone is watching.  No running in the hallways.  Don’t cut in line.  No talking during tests.  Do your own homework.  These rules make sense even when they curb what children would like to do without a rule saying “don’t”.  Lots of children break these rules with a “no harm, no foul” mentality.  The usual consequences for infractions of these middle order rules are middle order punishments. “Go to the back of the line” and “Go back and let me see you walk without running”.  Most children view these as “if you do the crime, spend the time” rules.

At the bottom of the pecking order are the arbitrary rules that are either irrational to children or are purposefully confrontational.  Today, these include rules about cell phones, use of AI, social media, and gender-based rules.  In yesteryear, these included rules about clothing, hair, language, and gum chewing.  Children know a rule is arbitrary when the school rationalization boils down to “because we say so!”.

Need for school rules.

It is hard to conceive of a place where hundreds to a thousand or more children, or adults for that matter, gather without some overarching understanding of orderliness.  Rules rule for orderliness.  We believe that a lack of understood rules creates conditions as in Lord of the Flies or the “wild west”.  To prevent school anarchy every state constitution assigns its department of education and local school boards the responsibility of propagating school rules.   

“Should schools have rules?  Obviously, yes.  No one – I think – disputes the necessity of having rules that keep people safe and make life easier and more pleasant for everyone involved.  So, a full setting out of acceptable behavior in a science lab or tech workshop is clearly important and sensible.  Rules governing minimum expectations of how students should behave in classrooms and social spaces are also desirable, as are rules about how teachers should and should not interact with children.”

Rules, however, do not make conditions orderly.  It is the people who enforce the rules who create order.  Therein, lies one of the rubs of arbitrary school rules.

“Teachers are woefully, incredibly, amazingly undertrained on the behavioral issues,” Wells says. “Teacher training today looks a lot like it did in the ’50s, ’60s, and ’70s. The typical teacher training tends to be about 80 percent content, on academics and curriculum, then 20 percent on the human factor. If you ask a teacher how many days they’ve had dominated by content, they just laugh. Their days are dominated by bad behavior.

Schools continue to prepare teachers for Beaver Cleaver and the 1950s. You talk to teachers, they’ll tell you they’ve got Beavis and Butthead. We’ve got a profound mismatch going on.

When a teacher feels he or she is losing control, Wells says the natural impulse is to start piling up arbitrary rules to regain some sort of order.”

In most teacher preparation programs, a teacher-to-be completes one course in child development and one course in classroom behavior management.  These six credits are contrasted to the other 114 content, pedagogical, and student teaching credits in a typical 120 credit requirement for a BA in education. 

Teachers are indeed woefully unprepared to deal with a class, a grade level, and a school of contemporary children.  If teachers spent more time in the field study of child behaviors, the psychology of changing behaviors, and did clinical work in the negotiated management of children, we would see a great reduction in teacher stress and children’s confrontation with school authority.  But the institution of teacher prep is not going to change.

Hence, arbitrary.

As educators, we get to being arbitrary quickly when confronted with child behaviors we can not easily change with Commandments or Makes Sense rules.  The hardest confrontations today between teachers and children are cultural, generational, technology-based, and gender related.  There are issues in each of these categories for which children today and adults of yesterday do not see eye to eye.  In fact, they are flat out oppositional and each side digs in for battle with little provocation.

This is not new.  Speech and dress and the right to protest rocks schools in the 60s and 70s.  Smoking and marijuana created trench warfare in the 70s, 80s and 90s.  Every issue was addressed with specific, “don’t you dare, kiddo” rules with punishments beginning with suspension and moving immediately to expulsion.  Schools carved out the cancers of defiance with hard justice.

As soon as a cell phone carried the Internet, phones in schools became the line in the sand not to be crossed.  Kids of all ages engaged in social media and texting holding their phones under their desk or table.  Just like POWs in enemy prisons, kids improvised and learned to text each other blindly with their phones in their pockets.  Genius, but against the rules.

Now it is AI.  “More than 4 in 10 teens are likely to use AI to do their schoolwork instead of doing it themselves this coming school year, according to a new survey.  But 670 percent of teens consider using AI for schoolwork as cheating, according to the nationally representative survey of 1,006 13- to 17-year-olds conducted by research firm Big Village in July for the nonprofit Junior Achievement.”

https://www.edweek.org/technology/teens-will-use-ai-for-schoolwork-but-most-think-its-cheating-survey-says/2023/07

The bad news is that although they consider it cheating, 40% of teens are likely to use AI for school assignments and claim the work as their own.  The good news is that many educators are using in-class targeted assessments instead of larger scale assignments and take-home tests.  Schools also use AI to detect AI.  The harsh news is that developers, mainly kids, develop programs to get around AI detection as fast as schools adopt detection. 

The Big Duh!

We adults tend to forget that the purpose of school is to prepare children for life after school.  We substitute the message that each grade prepares a child for the next and elementary for secondary school, and high school for college.  It is not so.  Public education prepares children for life after school and for a growing number of children, that means work not college.  The rules we create should have some basis in the real world.  Rules for our youngest should mirror child development in the homes of our community.  Rules for our oldest should mirror the rules they will find after graduation. 

Our School Commandment rules are sound and eternal in a school setting.  Our middle order rules also are sound, and their purpose is close to eternal in school setting.  They keep school from being the Wild West.  It is our arbitrary rules that cause us to woe.  We must find alternative ways to get around the swamps.

For example, due to school violence and school closings and changes in school activities, parents want their upper elementary through high school children to have immediate communication options with their parents and parents with their children.  It is not the cell phone that is the problem but the smartphone.  If schools are going to bar or bag smartphones, then provide every child with a simple cell phone with no Internet.  When a crisis or emergency hits, a school’s Wi-Fi is overwhelmed.  The cost of simple, no Internet cell phones is less than the time, energy, and hassling over student abuse of smartphones.

For example, the use of AI only grows.  In the non-school world, collaboration is valued whereas in the school world we want a student’s original work.  Make high stakes assessments paper and pencil and focus formative assignments on information gathering and synthesis and collaboration.  AI lives in the non-school world so make school AI parallel.

For example, remember that our nation was and is a melting pot of world cultures.  Learn from others as they learn from our culture, whatever that may be.  Don’t put up walls; keep the spoon stirring in the melting pot.  Be inclusive not exclusive.

And every adult in school needs to remember they are there only because kids are there! 

Lessons learned at recess

We learned a lot in elementary school.  Mrs. Wogen and Miss White taught us to read and to add and subtract.  Mrs. Wendlendt taught us to love good stories and Miss Blaine taught us to write complete sentences.  Miss Lubbock taught some of us to stand tall and smile and try to blend in because we could not carry a tune.  And Miss Phillips taught us that respect is earned.  We were taught well, and we learned many academic lessons in the early grades, but our elementary schooling was more than what our teachers taught.  It also was what we learned from each other.

Grade school for kids is time in the classroom and time on the playground.  Ask any third-grade boy about his day at school and you are more likely to hear a story from recess than what happened in his reading group.  The classroom and playground are essential for a childhood; they create a balance in a kid’s life, if we let them.  That balance is achieved because teachers make up and enforce rules in their classrooms while on the playground, kids make up and enforce the rules for recess.  With unspoken agreement, kids set the standards of how to play and how not to play, who wins and who loses, and how to treat each other.  In hindsight, recess rules ruled us when we were young, and they became unwritten, indelible rules for our entire life.

These are ten recess rules I learned and have practiced for more than half a century.  They applied to me and my friends when we were running and playing across the playground, and they applied to me in my career and in raising a family.  You may have rules from your youth that have served you well.  Consider these and remember your own.

  • There are my guys and there is everybody else.  The law of magnetism says likes repel and opposites attract but those rules do not apply on the playground where likes attract other likes.  We were 300 children spilling out the school doors for recess when we grouped ourselves in “likes”.  Generally, boys grouped with boys and girls with girls and the dozen or so boys I found myself with were those who loved any game with a ball that required movement, throwing, and catching.  Also, we all lived within a radius of several blocks from each other, so games on the playground became games after school and then Cub Scouts and summer swimming classes.  Other kids on the playground found their “guys”.   Guys back then was not a gender thing.  We referred to other boys and girls as “you guys”.  There were more than 100 children at my grade level and I knew everyone by name and face and considered them all to be my friends.  The guys, my special friends, were spread across the three classrooms in our grade level.  When the bell sounded recess time, we rushed down the stairs from our separate classrooms and gathered at the place where asphalt became a field of grass.  That is where the recess games began.  A real game for guys back then was football or softball or keep away.  The games that mattered were my guys against any other group of guys.
  • Things happen with, for, and against.  Even then, I could categorize what happened at recess in three ways.  I played with the guys.  I did all I could for the guys.  Together, the guys and I played hard against the other guys.  Those prepositions were involved in every story we told about recess.  Later, the same words applied to our junior and high school sports.  I played with my teammates.  I did all I could for my teammates.  Together, we competed against other teams.  And, later still, with and for applied to how I approached my work life. 
  • Be on time and be ready.  When recess started, the games began.  If you dawdled in the hallways or restroom, no one waited.  In fact, the guys sized up who was ready to play and started almost before the ringing bell stopped echoing.  Joining a game in progress was not easy.  If you were not on time and ready, you were a spectator until the next recess.  When you were late or not ready, you knew who to blame – yourself. 
  • Don’t knock down a girl.  It was easier then; boys wore pants and girls wore dresses.  You never ran into, threw a ball at, or knocked down someone in a dress.  This is not to say that guys didn’t get carried away and sometimes a game crossed into where girls played.  It happened and there was hell to pay if you were the one who knocked down a girl.  There were phone calls that night between parents and when parents got into talking about recess, that was a bad thing.  You could get sidelined for nothing more than mud on a dress.
  • Fast is fast; you can’t get faster, but you can get better.  Among our guys, I was not the fastest runner.  It used to pain me that, try as I might, I could not pick up and lay down my feet any faster than I did.  I was not slow; just not fast.  Early on it was clear that if I could not improve my foot speed, I needed to find things I could improve.  I worked on three ways to be better than faster: catch the ball and keep the ball, look for the smart next move, and, if someone runs into you, make that person feel the pain.  Learning how to improve upon what genetics provided proved a good lesson for recess and good for high school sports and life in general, even the idea of physical collisions.
  • Know your role.  Somedays you lead and somedays you follow.  Every recess you have a place and role in what is happening.  The games gave each of the guys chances to step up and step aside.  Of course, being young boys, we sometimes did not do either gracefully or needed one of the guys to tell us.  Knowing when and how to lead and how to follow was part of being with the guys and we had plenty of opportunities to learn to be a role-player.
  • Leave it on the playground.  Because you win some and you lose some, it was important to leave the games of recess on the playground.  Miss Blaine did not care which guys won a softball game during the lunch recess when she called on kids to talk about the plot of a story in afternoon language arts class.  By the same token, the kid who put the hurt in your bruised shoulder sat two rows to your right and neither you nor he wanted anyone in class to know why he smiled, and you frowned.  It was best for everyone when what happened on the playground did not enter the classroom.  And there will be a recess tomorrow, Bruce!
  • Competition breeds respect and respect builds new friendships.  Some of the other guys lived in distant neighborhoods.  We did not see each other except at school.  Some lived in bigger and some in smaller houses than mine; that was a way of knowing something about a guy.  Bigger house guys had newer Chuck Taylor Converse shoes with good tread and the gym shoe tread for guys from smaller houses usually was worn off.  Tread mattered back then.  Recess, though, gave every group of guys an equal chance to shine.  While I wasn’t fast, I admired guys in other groups who were.  Some had better hands or better throwing arms.  After a while, I knew which of the other guys hit the ball harder or ran faster.  I also knew what I had to do to beat them, if I could, and when we each tried to do our best, I wanted to know them better.  They weren’t one of my guys, but they became some of my good friends. 
  • Games are games not life; know the difference.  Miss Phillips, our principal, watched us at play.  Although she looked like someone’s grandmother, she had a quick eye that twinkled when she talked with me.  “Nice catch”, she would say.  Nothing more; just enough to let me know that she was watching.  More importantly, she also said, “I saw your ITBS scores, and you did very well” and “Miss Knapp told me you held the door open for her when she had her hands full.  Being a good student and well-mannered won’t score runs but they win the games that matter”. 

  • Memories of the playground live forever.  It is not surprising that the first people I look for at our high school class reunions are the guys.  After elementary school, we went to the same junior high and high school.  After high school, we split and went separate ways.  Some to college, others into the military, and some into adult life.  Years passed and life happened.  Yet, when the Class of XXXX gets together, that old oppositional magnetism works again.  We find each other and talk always wanders back to the playground.  “Do you remember ….?, starts our first and last conversation. 

My elementary school has closed.  Across the city, school enrollments decreased over the years and the economics of public education regrouped fewer children into fewer school buildings.  My elementary school stands empty, windows dark and doors locked, but the four acres of playground are filled every good weather day with youth football, soccer, and softball.  Younger children climb the jungle gyms and gather for rope jumping on the asphalt.  A playground calls children to play and children will always answer that call.

As I watch, I see children still are learning some of life’s essential rules on the playgrounds and I wish them well.