The Message Was: We Must Win At All Costs. One Teacher Chose To Take Another Path And Changed A School’s Culture
In the situation, would you have chosen to be, a Putin, or a Gandhi? The clock ticks…
Microcosm: the word means: a community, place, or situation regarded as encapsulating in miniature the characteristics of something much larger.
My belief is that all classrooms must be viewed as a microcosm of the real world. Their values should reflect peace, fairness, inclusion, and caring.
And if that is the case, then the story I share below, should serve as a salutary lesson.
Annual sports carnival
Our annual sports carnival was looming. I choose the word looming because most of us hated some aspects of it, one being the lead up, the team-building, the choosing of house captains, and the chants.
If you were elected captain, it was your job to write chants for your team, to be used on the day to ramp up cheering, and promote a determination to win.
We must win at all costs was the not-so-subtle message conveyed to all the students in our teams.
As an example, something like this was offered up, and the children could write their own, often better versions.
“Extra, extra no doubt about it. We’re gonna win. There’s no doubt about it,” said over and over again until the words reached a crescendo (sorry music world…nothing GRADUAL about this), and kids were literally spitting the words out (complete with spittle), and faces were about to burst.
Now the reasons that teachers hated the lead up were twofold.
- They had to give up their recess for practice, as well as the recesses they already gave up for yard duty, or maybe helping a student with a problem.
- The noise and intensity of the “practice” was not music to their ears.
But for one whole month this hellish ritual was played out in some teachers’ classrooms.
And then, the carnival
If you think listening to this horrific screaming for fifteen minutes was bad, try all day.
And try to imagine just a little, the even louder cheers and screams as scores were highlighted on a board.
It was a bit of a farce, really
What the students didn’t know, was that the scores were fudged so that houses were chasing each other, almost neck and neck because…well we need to keep that cheering up…the game must go on…this is the carnival of the year!
But somehow we all survived it, telling ourselves that next year we might even have won the lottery…none of us ever did, just in case you wondered.
Of course this kind of fudging could never have happened in a high school, where there would always be an academic nerd doing his personal calculations!
So which team would win?
Actually, NONE…at the actual oval…because:
- we need to keep excitement up
- our parent body had got used the the idea of lining up on the school oval to watch the triumphant strutting of the houses’ stuff, their voices croaking by this time, their bodies spent of energy
- hey, this was when one house could score another thousand points
- who cared if the kids couldn’t speak for weeks?
Let me tell you. One thousand bucks would not have had the same appeal as the same number of points at the end of the day, and therefore being the winning house.
So it didn’t matter that they were exhausted.
It didn’t matter if their throats would take a month to heal.
All that mattered was that their house WON!
The final wrap
So six teams had to give their finale, the rendition that would make them stand head and shoulders above the others…the rendition that would have them win.
A last-minute request
A friend requested that his house go last. That was agreed to. Everyone was too tired to question it.
And so, one after the other the five teams marched with military precision around the oval.
And the parents cheered.
They waved their house colors.
Excitement was at fever pitch.
That was until
The piece de resistance.
My friend’s team walked smartly and quietly, and assuredly onto the oval.
They cheered a silent cheer.
They mouthed their silent chants.
And all around was hushed.
And awed.
And respectful.
They marched with army precision.
And as they silently took their places with the other house teams, a thunderclap of silence reigned.
Nobody knew quite what to do.
Then one parent stood up and silently clapped (that’s when your palms don’t meet to make a sound).
Then a whole body of parents followed.
Followed by students who already understood silent hurrahs.
No prizes for guessing which team scored one thousand points.
No prizes for guessing that the system of scoring was forever changed.
So why am I sharing this story today?
Because this is a story of peace.
It’s a story about how one man’s courage changed what was a horrific day for many, into an enormous message for the future.
Right now I am wondering if we collectively should share responsibility for what is happening in our world.
Do teachers promote the need to succeed at all costs?
Do parents?
Do organizations?
I know there are many peacemakers amongst us.
Let’s have a look at the school values I spoke of…peace, fairness, inclusion, and caring.
None of these was exhibited on our carnival day.
Winning uber alles.
Something has to change ‘in Rome’ so we can live in peace.
I ask the question again: Will you be a Putin, or a Gandhi? The analogous clock ticks perilously close to midnight…