Work and Play in Girls' Schools / By Three Head Mistresses

by Dorothea Beale; J. F. Dove; Lucy Helen Muriel Soulsby

In language exercises the number of faults can be written at the end, and classified as mere careless ones, and those for which there is at least some excuse—the former being counted double. In these and other exercises a maximum say of ten marks may be given; in many the teacher can give only a general estimate, but when returning books, she can show why she puts a higher estimate on one than on another. In junior classes the marks may be added, read with comments, and perhaps sent home each week. A sort of weather chart is used by us in the youngest classes—showing for each week whether they have risen or fallen in the number of marks.

Prizes, in part determined by work done at home, are dangerous, the temptation to get undue help is great; a conscientious child will reject such assistance as would be really good for her, lest she should gain an unfair advantage. Prizes given on the result of examinations, provided they are given not to the best, but to all who have attained a certain standard, are less objectionable; we cannot make it too clear that good may be better than best, and that the only praise we should desire is to hear: “She hath done what she could”.

Public prize-givings seem to me very undesirable. A terminal report parents may reasonably look for, and words of blame or encouragement may be made very helpful to the child. Punishments in the shape of doubled lessons, lines, etc., are objectionable; if a duty has been neglected, or badly done, it has to be done at an inconvenient time—say in the afternoon. A fine may be required for untidiness and damage—in order to compensate others for trouble and expense, but to inflict a fine for breaking rules is altogether wrong. At a school I knew, where this was done, girls would deliberately break rules, e.g., talk at prohibited times, and say they were going to have “three pennyworth”. Into a matter of right and wrong, money cannot enter; so also conduct prizes should, I think, never be given; the proper reward for doing right is a good conscience, and the trust, friendship, respect of others.

Use of examinations.Having lived through the pre-examination period, and seen the great evils which resulted from there being no test, I cannot join in the popular condemnation. There is no unmixed good, and many mistakes, which we learn to avoid later, are made when a system is new. I shall regard examinations only from the point of view of their value educationally. (1) They are useful as a test of what we really know; preparation for them enables us to find out what are our permanent possessions; (2) competitive examination compels us to set these in order, and estimate their relative importance. (3) Examinations tend to produce presence of mind, mental self-control, (4) to suppress wordiness and abolish a florid style, and (5) to make us feel the supreme importance of clearness and accuracy.

Examining is a difficult art, and examiners have to learn their métier. All are not perfect; the process of reading papers is exhausting, and after reading ninety-nine, an examiner may fail to appreciate the exquisite thought and philosophic insight of the hundredth. It is possible he may form an erroneous opinion regarding some unusual performance—there have been reviewers who failed to appreciate the early volumes of Wordsworth, Tennyson and Browning; there are examiners, however, really sympathetic, laborious, and anxious to see what has been done (which is limited) rather than find out what has not been done (which is unlimited), and these may give much help both by their criticisms and their encouragement. It is good for all of us to have our work tested by a competent critic.

An internal examination, if well conducted, is most valuable, as it can better follow the work, but on the other hand, many teachers feel that an internal examination places them too much at the mercy of caprice, or personal feeling, and hence prefer a central one, such as the University Locals.

Regular attendance.Schools must insist on punctuality in returning, and no unnecessary absences should be allowed. Children who are absent cannot follow the teaching in the next lesson, and laggards demoralise the class and distract the teacher, who feels she is not understood.

Rapport with the class.In conclusion let me say the teacher must have the power of holding the class. She must be sensitive to the least inattention, quick to discern whether it is her fault or that of the pupil, and take her measures accordingly, acting always upon the wholesome maxim (which should never be heard outside the common room), certainly never whispered to parents, that it is always the teacher’s fault, if pupils do not learn. When she fails to establish the rapport between herself and her class, she must try to discover the cause of her failure. Young children, like wild animals, are tamed by the eye, and a class is controlled by a teacher who sees everything that goes on. If a teacher when using the board turns away and writes in silence, a restless child is almost sure to play some amusing trick, and it may take a considerable time to recover attention. If experiments are performed, the teacher, like the conjurer, should never cease talking or questioning. If she cannot manage to do both, she must have an assistant.

Dress, manner, etc.She must avoid awkward tricks. I knew two very distinguished teachers whose lectures were admirable, but one had a habit of pulling a tuft of hair, and another would stuff his handkerchief carefully into his folded hand, and then draw it out again—to the great distraction of the class. We have all heard of the parliamentary orator and his button.