Fairly Punishing Childish Bigotry

Children are mean. Some grow mean as they age, while others seem to have been born that way. They bully classmates to feel strong, make fun of others to draw attention away from their own imperfections, and talk back to teachers. Unfortunately, it is a problem some children take with them to adulthood, and single-serving substitutes are usually powerless to prevent it.

But what happens when a child innocently exhibits bigotry in the classroom?

Today, I accepted a two-day assignment at my favorite middle school. I had taught this mixed 7th grade social studies and language arts class earlier in the week so I felt confident that the students would respond well to me. Moreover, I distinctly remembered that the lesson plans called for some sort of oral presentation on Friday.

Upon walking into class–expecting everything to go smoothly–I realized the Wednesday substitute had misplaced the lesson plans for the week (gee, thanks!). Some students were receptive, but others were very loud after their field trip to a local junior college. To keep the class moving, I developed an alternative lesson for the students where they would give a speech about their recent field trip.

“Everyone, we are going to do oral presentations.”

There was dead silence for about two seconds. Then the flood gates opened: “No,” the class blurted out in unison, “we never do oral presentations!”

“Today you are.” With that, I wrote a four questions on the board:

1. What did you learn during your field trip to the junior college?
2. How did the field trip change your thoughts on college?
3. Do you want to go to that junior college when you turn 18?
4. If not, where do you want to go and why?

“Copy down these questions. Be sure to skip 8 lines in between the questions. Title the paper, ‘My College Field Trip Reflections’. Put your name and date on the upper-right hand corner of the page. Be sure to think about your answers before answering; that is why I am having you skip lines. It is important you write out your answers and practice answering them out-loud because you cannot take the paper up with you tomorrow.”

Granted, it was a long-winded explanation, but I thought it was clear enough. Too bad the students did not agree. For the next 20 minutes, I had to field questions about everything from the mundane to the ludicrous.

“Do I need to put my last name on here?”

“Do I have to answer question four if I do want to go to the junior college?”

“Do I have to do this if I get sick and lose my voice over night in an accident or something?”

As the administrative questions were answered and the students realized I was not backing down from this assignment, I started to get some personal questions, namely those inquiring which college I had attended. My response was clear and direct, “I went to a bad one.” I implied that I was too ashamed to answer. This sparked one student’s interest even more so he continued asking the same question over and over again, adding, “come on, please tell me,” for effect.

“No, not now. But, if the class does a good job on the presentations tomorrow, I will tell you.” I did not want to tell them because I was planning to give my own presentation. During that time, I would reveal that I attended UCLA. My reasoning for the delay in responding was simple: build expectation and excitement.

Another student refused to back down. “I can’t wait that long; what school did you attend?” I refused to answer for the fourth time, instead opting to merely say I went to a “bad school.” The student then made a very bigoted assumption.

“Bad school? Does that mean you went to college in Africa?

I was livid. I yelled out his name so as to grab the class’ attention. Staring him in the eye with what must have been a fearsome look in my eyes, I growled then said, “Don’t you ever, ever, make that type of assumption about the continent of Africa again! Do you think that Africa is poor, backward, or both? Does that make you think they must have bad schools? Huh?! That was a ridiculous question–and if you don’t know what ‘ridiculous’ means, look it up!”

I may have gotten a little too upset with him. After some reflection, I think his question may have been based on childish assumptions and innocent, yet narrow-minded, thinking. Nevertheless, told him to apologize to the entire class. He did not object. Further, I gave him an extra assignment: to write a paragraph about the continent of Africa and present it to the entire class on Friday. He did not complain; he knew he had messed up.

My response was meant to force the student to learn something positive about Africa, punish him for his comment, and show the class that I would not tolerate any hurtful comments. Children are mean, but they should never be bigoted. Children may grow up to be irreverent, but they must not be allowed to grow up racist. As class ended, I wondered if he would take my extra assignment seriously.

I would soon find out.