2. Distinguish Between the Child and the Fault
The second rule is that in correcting a child we should be careful to distinguish between the child and its fault; we should not allow the shadow of the fault to darken the whole nature of the child. We should treat the fault as something accidental which can be removed. Vulgar persons, when a child has told a falsehood, say, "You liar." They identify the child with the fault of lying, and thereby imply that this vice is ingrained in its nature. They do not say or imply, "You have told a falsehood, but you will surely not do so again; hereafter you will tell the truth"; they say, "You are a liar"; which is equivalent to saying, "Lying has become part and parcel of your nature." In the same way when a child has proved itself incapable of mastering a certain task, the thoughtless parent or teacher may exclaim, impatiently, "You are a dunce"; that is to say, "You are a hopeless case; nothing but stupidity is to be expected of you." All opprobrious epithets of this sort are to be most scrupulously avoided. Even to the worst offender one should say: "You have acted thus in one case, perhaps in many cases, but you can act otherwise; the evil has not eaten into the core of your nature. There is still a sound part in you; there is good at the bottom of your soul, and if you will only assert your better nature, you can do well." We are bound to show confidence in the transgressor. Our confidence may be disappointed a hundred times, but it must never be wholly destroyed, for it is the crutch on which the weak lean in their feeble efforts to walk.
Now, such language as "You are a dunce," "You are a liar," is, to be sure, used only by the vulgar; but many parents who would not use such words imply as much by their attitude toward their child; they indicate by their manner, "Well, nothing good is to be expected of you." This attitude of the parents is born of selfishness; the child has disappointed their expectations, and the disappointment, instead of making them more tender toward the child, makes them impatient. But this is not the attitude of the physician whose business it is to cure evil. We must give the child to understand that we still have hope of his amendment; the slightest improvement should be welcomed with an expression of satisfaction.
We should never attach absolute blame to a child, never overwhelm it with a general condemnation. And in like manner we should never give absolute praise, never injure a child by unlimited approbation. The words, "excellent," "perfect," which are sometimes used in school reports, are inexcusable. I have seen the object of education thwarted in the case of particularly promising pupils by such unqualified admiration. No human being is ethically perfect, and to tell a child that he is perfect is to encourage a superficial way of looking upon life and to pamper his conceit.
The right attitude is to say or to imply by our manner, "You have done well thus far; go on as you have begun and try hereafter to do still better." Such words as these fall like sunshine into the soul, warming and fructifying every good seed.
On the other hand, to tell a child that he is perfect may induce him to relax his effort, for having reached the summit he does not feel the need of further exertion. We should correct faults in such a way as to imply that not everything is lost. And we should praise merit in such a way as to imply that not everything is yet achieved; that, on the contrary, the goal is still far, far in the distance.
Everything, as I have said, depends upon the attitude of the parent or instructor. Those who possess educational tact—a very rare and precious quality—adopt the right attitude by a sort of instinct. But those who do not possess it naturally can acquire it, at least to a certain degree, by reflecting upon the underlying principles of punishment.