Anyone who knows me well knows that I have a good deal of respect and appreciation for the Amish. I have occasionally joked that I’m “going Amish,” because I think we can learn so much from them. I often write about them. But I can now announce that I’ve written for them.
I subscribe to several publications written and published by and for the Amish. One is the “Blackboard Bulletin,” by Pathway Publishers located in Ontario Canada. It’s primarily written by and for Amish teachers.
A recent issue raised a teacher’s dilemma with her young students. Apparently, her younger students were often driven to tears by what was described as her “curt” manner of speaking. (Understand that many, if not most, Amish teachers are working in what we might describe as a “one-room schoolhouse” including multiple grades through grade eight.) Teachers were invited to reply with their opinion—is this the way schools are nowadays?
Given the differences between Amish and non-Amish schools, I initially felt unqualified to offer my thoughts. But I soon found my fingers dancing on the keys, first explaining that I was not Amish and did not teach in an Amish School, but did have some thoughts.
Imagine my surprise when I found those thoughts published in the next issue! And the editors didn’t include my opening disclaimer, identifying me only as “Walter Boomsma from Maine.” Most contributors are only identified by their first name or as “a teacher.” I’m not sure if I’ve earned bragging rights, but I am honored. (Bragging rights would not be a consideration of the Amish—their beliefs and culture emphasize humility.)
Since the editors thought my contribution had value, I’ll include it for you.
My first observation is that love is a feeling; communication is a skill. It is entirely possible that the teacher described loves her students deeply. It is also likely she may lack some of the necessary skills to communicate that love. Since she admits there is a problem, I would suggest she share that problem with her students. There may well be an opportunity to “learn together.”
However, I include a second observation and a word of caution. Students – even at an early age- become very skilled at manipulating a situation to their advantage. I think of one young student who cried whenever she was redirected in any way. As the tears rolled down her cheeks, she would sniffle, “I love you, teacher.” I found it necessary to assure her that mistakes did not affect my love for her but I also did not allow her tears to make me hesitant to correct her. We had a shared challenge. Isabel had to learn to trust my love. I had to remind myself that correction and redirection are compatible with love.
I often recommend the book Teaching with Love and Logic by Jim Fay and David Funk. It is especially appropriate for newer teachers who often struggle with maintaining a balance in their classrooms. One example is learning not to say, “Be quiet!” Instead say, “I’ll begin when it’s quiet.” A vital premise underlying the concept is that we often need to teach our students responsibility. “Be quiet,” suggests the teacher must control the noise level in the classroom. “I’ll begin when it’s quiet,” encourages the students to share in managing the classroom environment.
Lastly, it interested me that the entire issue of Blackboard Bulletin included suggestions. Jamie’s Teacher in “The Definition of Discipline” said it well in the final paragraph. “No, I cannot reclaim a lost opportunity, but I can learn from it… Truly, the definition of godly discipline is love.”