ELEANOR HOPE JOHNSON
SECRETARY COMMITTEE ON THE HYGIENE OF SCHOOL CHILDREN, PUBLIC EDUCATION ASSOCIATION
Kate Douglas Wiggin, in one of her most appealing stories, tells of a child who was walking in a garden with his mother when they came upon a misshapen tree. In reply to the mother’s question as to why the tree was crooked the child replied that he guessed someone had stepped on it when it was little. So it is with many of the children in our larger cities—they get stepped on physically, intellectually and spiritually when they are young.
Little Ivan, whose mother had come here from Russia after passing through we know not how many scenes of terror and suffering, bore the stamp of her misery on his face and in his soul. When he came to a New York public school at eight years of age it seemed impossible that teacher and textbook should be able to do anything for him. He was ragged and dirty and could not speak. But after patient effort the teacher of the special class, where he had been put, found that he was not a mute and that he did understand English. Next, his mother was seen, and she became so interested in her boy’s welfare that his ragged days were brought to an end. A new suit of clothes and a clean face transformed him into an intelligent and alert looking youngster. Now he is struggling with the words, “boy and ran, dog and book,” and is attacking the other branches with some notion of what they are all about. His destructive tendency is being dealt with firmly and patiently, and there are great hopes that some day Ivan may develop into a normal and sturdy boy.
NELLO, THE “UTTERLY BAD”
Until a visiting teacher went to his home and found his mother dying of cancer, Nello nursing her and the three younger children, and the father sharing his morning beer with the undersized boy. The schoolroom tantrum was understood then. Nello was sent to the country.
This story of Ivan is a good illustration of what the school can do to help prevent the little trees from being so harshly trodden upon. It is also a good illustration of the manner in which they can do it. For it is one of the most promising signs of our times that our conception of the process called education is a constantly broadening one. It is no longer enough to teach children to read, write and cipher, even to draw, cook and sew. We have been in the past contented with the dictum that the public schools exist in order to abolish illiteracy, but now we are inclined to take the fuller meaning which, surprisingly enough, the dictionary gives: “to educate is to qualify for the business and duties of life.” Up to now, unfortunately, the dictionary has not been followed with too great care. Much time has been lost and from the results of this loss we are now suffering. In our new vision, the schools must not only train children toward constructive citizenship, but must do what they can to prevent the development of destructive citizens, must help in overcoming completely the original anti-social condition into which psychologists tell us children are born.
Industrial teaching and vocational guidance through the public schools should do much to bring about this training toward constructive citizenship. But for the equally important task of prevention some preliminary work must be done. Obstacles must be removed. Those who can profit by such training must be sifted out from those who cannot, and through the schools we must fit by some preliminary process, those who at first sight seem unfit. For in the schools are often found the beginning of all the bitter problems with which our strongest philanthropic organizations are struggling so manfully. “Millions for cure, nothing for prevention” sometimes seems to express pretty clearly where the emphasis has been placed in the past. The schools can help greatly if they would get back behind the present situation, and discuss, point out, and if necessary, perform these acts of prevention.
What does all this mean? It means that social service must come to be regarded as a justifiable function of the schools, as justifiable as it has already become in the case of at least two other institutions.
Upwards of twenty years ago a militant clergyman in New York is quoted as having said: “It is all very well to talk of saving souls, but I never yet have seen a soul that was not connected with a body.” At that time religious work was confined much more closely than it now is within certain traditional limits, and these ringing words did much to turn the attention of the churches toward their old ideal of social service.