Disciplinary Action

J. Kevin Tumlinson

Discipline is a strange concept. It seems to be redefined with every new generation, but ultimately it stays exactly the same. You would expect that as time went by discipline problems would decrease as the world learned new ways to look at a problem. But there's a logical fallacy there: the assumption that people are actually learning a new way to look at things. People view discipline the same way they always have; only the terms have been changed to protect the ignorant.

For the most part, traditional discipline makes logical sense. Bad behavior is punished, good behavior is rewarded. No real need to look at the root of a problem. Sure, there are a few attempts, scattered here and there, to determine if a bad situation could have been avoided or prevented. That seems to be the exception rather than the rule, however.

As a teacher I am exposed to thousands of theories on discipline management. I think most of them are dead-on. The problem, though, is that traditional thinking is hard to change. I may be willing to accept a less than traditional classroom environment, but it's a sure bet that the school board or the administration or a parent or SOMEONE along the way won't be quite so open minded. So where does that leave me?

The problem is in definitions. If you define a disciplined classroom as twenty or thirty students sitting quietly, furiously scribbling notes as the teacher lectures and never diverging from the lesson plan… well, you're an idiot. That doesn't happen. It won't happen. More importantly, it CAN'T happen. Human beings just weren't meant to sit quietly for extended periods of time. We were meant to laugh, to move, to socialize. It's in our very nature.

Need proof? Step into a room full of three-year-olds. What do you see? They're banging stuff together, throwing things, laughing, jabbering, you name it. It's all instinct at age three. Human beings, unrefined. Now, take those three-year-olds and put them in desks and give them text-books and stand in front of them talking about the Magna Charta. What happens then? A lot! They're still throwing stuff, banging stuff together, jabbering, etc.

Here's where discipline comes in, though. Three-year-olds don't have it because it hasn't been taught yet. Not to that level, anyway. But a high school kid? He or she knows what it means to sit quietly, take notes, listen to a lecture. It means shutting off your brain for an hour, doodling in the margins of your paper so you look busy, sneaking a note to your friend across the room. Discipline, in the classic sense, does nothing to promote learning.

But give those same kids something to do, give them a purpose, let them stand up and move around and talk and laugh all while experiencing something first-hand and you've opened up a whole new door. There's one trait that is nearly universal to all teen-agers - they do not like having their time wasted. The fastest way to start a rebellion in a classroom is to try to force students to do something for which they see no point. But if they can see a purpose, or at the very least be active and socialize while they're learning, they'll do pretty much anything you ask them to. Happy, productive, active minds can absorb learning without even noticing it, and are far less likely to get into trouble than a bunch of repressed brains chained to their seats.

Want to solve discipline problems among teenagers? Want to decrease drug use? Want to inspire civic pride and loyalty? The answer is discipline, but the discipline may not be what you're used to.

My favorite definition of insanity is this: "Doing the same thing over and over and expecting a different result each time." We've been handling discipline the same way for so long, we no longer see any other way. And look how great it's worked so far! Drug use is way up. Drop out rates are increasing. A record number of students are failing one or more classes. Things aren't pretty, and yet we just keep handling it the same old way.

So let's make an effort to change that. Let's promote a classroom environment where the kids get to interact with each other, just like they'll have to do in the real world. Let's change the definition of discipline and accept the fact that the iron hand doesn't work. It's tough, I know. Heck, my own classroom situation makes it extremely difficult to do as I propose. But I'm willing to give it a shot, and I think my kids will be better off for it.

And if the kids benefit from it…well, isn't that the point of education anyway?

J. Kevin Tumlinson is a writer and a schoolteacher living in Lake Jackson, TX. Sit down and shut up.