In this process of achieving an access of democracy it holds true that “There is no impression without expression.” Each reaction of the spirit tends to groove the impression into a habit, and this process has had a thousand exemplifications before our eyes since the opening of the war. People who were only mildly inoculated with the democratic spirit at first became surcharged with this spirit because of their many reactions. They have been obeying the behests of spiritual impulse, working in war gardens, eliminating luxuries, purchasing bonds, contributing to benevolent enterprises, until democracy is their ruling passion. Every effort a man puts forth in the interest of humanity has a reflex influence upon his inner self and he experiences a spiritual expansion. So it has come to pass that men and women are doing two, three, or ten times the amount of work they did in the past and doing it better. Their aroused and enlarged spiritual impulses are the enginery that is driving their minds and bodies forward into virgin territory, into new and larger enterprises, and thus into a wider, deeper realization of their own capabilities. So the leaven of democracy is working through difficulties of surpassing obduracy and resolving situations that seemed, in the past, to be beyond human achievement. And of democracy it may be said, as of Dame Rumor of old, “She grows strong by motion and gains power by going. Small at first through fear, she presently raises herself into the air, she walks upon the ground and lifts her head among the clouds.” On the side of democracy, at any rate, it would seem that education is beginning to find its way again.
In the thinking of most people democracy is a form of government; but primarily it is not this at all. Rather it is a spiritual attitude. The form of government is an outward manifestation of the inward feeling. Our ancestors held democracy hidden in their hearts as they crossed the ocean long before it became visible as a form of government. The form of government was inevitable, seeing that they possessed the feeling of democracy, and that they were journeying to land in obedience to the dictates of this feeling. In education for democracy the form of government is an after-consideration; that will come as a natural sequence. The chief thing is to inoculate the spirits of people with a feeling for democracy. This germ will grow out into a form of government because of the unity of feeling and consequent thinking. When this spiritual attitude is generated, not only does the form of government follow, but people meet upon the plane of a common purpose and give expression to their inner selves in like movements. They come to realize that, in a large way, each one is his brother’s keeper. They are drawn together in closer sympathy and good-will; artificial barriers disappear; and they all become interested in the common good. Their interests, purposes, and activities become unified, and life becomes better and richer. Actuated by a common impulse, they exemplify what Kipling says in his Sons of Martha:
Lift ye the stone or cleave the wood to make a path more fair or flat,
Lo, it is black already with blood some Son of Martha spilled for that,
Not as a ladder from Earth to Heaven, not as an altar to any creed,
But simple Service, simply given, to their own kind, in their common need.
As Dr. Henry van Dyke well says, “It is the silent ideal in the hearts of the people which molds character and guides action.”
It will be admitted without qualification that the school, when well administered, constitutes a force that a altogether favorable to the development of the spirit of democracy, and no one will deny that democracy is a worthy goal toward which the activities of the school should be directed. It is easy to see just how geography, for instance, may be made a means to this end. The members of the class represent many conditions of society, but in the study of geography they unite in a common enterprise and have interests in common. Thus their spirits merge and, for the time, they become unified in a common quest. They become coordinates and confederates in this quest of geography, and the spirit of democracy expands in an atmosphere so favorable to growth. These pupils may differ in race, in creed, or in color, but these differences are submerged in the zeal of a common purpose. Lines of demarcation are obliterated and they are drawn together because of their thinking and feeling in unison. The caste system does not thrive in the geography class and snobbery languishes. The pupils have the same books, the same assignments, the same teacher, and share alike in all the privileges and pleasures which the class provides. Their grades are given on merit, with no semblance of discrimination. In short, they achieve the democratic attitude of spirit by means of the study of geography.
If the teacher holds democracy in mind, all the while, as the goal of endeavor, she will find abundant opportunities to inculcate and develop the democratic ideal. By tactful suggestion she directs the activities of the children into channels that lead to unity of purpose. Where help is needed, she arranges that help may be forthcoming. Where sympathy will prove a solace, sympathy will be given, for sympathy grows spontaneously in a democratic atmosphere. Books, pictures, and flowers come forth as if by magic to bear their kindly messages and to render their appointed service. By the subtle alchemy of her very presence, the teacher who is deeply imbued with the spirit of democracy fuses the spirits of her pupils and causes them to blend in the pursuit of truth. Thus she brings it to pass that the spirit of democracy dominates the school and each pupil comes to feel a sense of responsibility for the well-being of all the others. So the school achieves the goal of democracy by means of the studies pursued, and the pupils come to experience the altruism, the impulse to serve, and the centrifugal urge of the democratic spirit.