The Schools and the War
by CLAUDE M. FUESS
ALMOST without exception the independent secondary schools of the United States came through the war with increased efficiency and prestige. Some of them had apprehensive hours, being not quite sure of their capacity for adjustment to unprecedented conditions; and it is to their credit that, while maintaining their established standards, they were able so rapidly to modify their procedures in order to meet current needs or governmental directives.
Indeed, their contribution to victory was out of proportion to their size and resources. They are proud that their alumni, trained in the liberal arts, were more highly valued as officer material than the graduates of schools which had gone over completely to “military training”; for what the Army wanted most was a body of young Americans with initiative, self-reliance, and a gift for leadership. Thus the independent schools like Lawrenceville, Hotchkiss, and Groton have not introduced radical changes in either curriculum or broad philosophy. Their conservatism is not due to inertia or indifference or even to obstinacy, but is the logical consequence of an eager and open-minded measuring of values and results. Most independent schools are not averse to a little gentlemanly pioneering; but they have emerged from the adventure of war with a reasoned conviction that their methods and aims have been basically sound. Some important lessons, of course, have been learned. Weaknesses have had to be remedied, and shifts of emphasis have been inevitable. But no serious revolution has taken place.
Acceleration. — During the crisis, the independent schools experimented with various forms of acceleration under different names. The most common practice was, by means of a summer session, to enable Seniors to be graduated in February instead of in June and thus to advance earlier to college or the armed forces. Some of these programs, although hastily improvised, were amazingly successful in accomplishing their purpose, and hundreds of young men are grateful for what was done for them. For various reasons, however, schoolmasters do not favor the continuation of such accelerated programs.
Personally, I have always regretted the idleness of our vast educational plants during the summer months when climatic conditions are good and sickness is at a minimum. But many of my colleagues feel, with some justification, that study under pressure did encourage superficiality and produce intellectual weariness among its victims, and that, without an impelling motive, acceleration would be less profitable. It may be plausibly argued, moreover, that both teachers and pupils, if they are to do their best work, should lie fallow at intervals or at least diversify their pursuits. Summer sessions have in some instances proved so desirable that they will be continued indefinitely, but not primarily for those who wish to speed up their education. The desire to shorten the time for college preparation or to cut months off the four-year high school program is not widespread and will be resisted by many of the more conservative headmasters. The Andover Summer Session, for example, will offer this year opportunities for boys to make up deficiencies or to secure one or two additional credits, but will not qualify them to earn their diplomas ahead of their classes.
Curriculum. — The war has had no sensational effect on the independent school curriculum. The excessive emphasis on Mathematics and Science created by temporary demands is even now being quietly corrected. Experiments with military drill were of dubious value, and most of the specialized instruction in Communications, Navigation, and Aeronautics was abandoned after the surrender of Japan.
In two fields, however, the impact of war has led to important developments. The increased interest in American History brought about after Pearl Harbor by an insistent and commendable patriotism is not likely to diminish, and it will never lose its place as a key subject in every well-organized school. Most good schools had offered courses in American History long before the war began, but now it is everywhere compulsory, like English and Mathematics. This movement has been accompanied by more attention to current affairs, political, social, and economic, based on the assumption that every future American citizen should become acquainted early with his community and the life around him.
Fully as significant, although related more to method than to substance, is the prevailing trend in the teaching of the modern foreign languages. The success of the Army system has hastened a tendency towards more use of the spoken word in the French, German, and Spanish classrooms, and we may expect that in the future the traditional visual approach will be supplemented, perhaps even superseded, by instruction in aural understanding.
The curriculums of our independent schools will, I suppose, continue to be built around English, History, one or two foreign languages, Mathematics, Science, the Fine Arts, and Religion, with constant attention to their moral by-products: thoroughness, accuracy, and honest thinking. No evident fervor for vocational training as such can be discovered. The reports recently put out by Harvard, Amherst, and other colleges have suggested that what is called General Education is largely the business of the secondary schools, and these are willing to accept the obligation thus thrust upon them. However, the goal of General Education is less the accumulation of facts than the acquirement of power; and in the schools which I am discussing, knowledge is not so highly regarded as character. It is still true that the aim of such institutions is — to quote the words of Andover’s Act of Incorporation — “the promotion of true Piety and Virtue.”
Physical Training. — Early in the war the independent schools, aware of the many rejections for military service because of physical disability, took steps for ensuring sound bodies for their students. Virtually every school already had a comprehensive program of athletic sports, both within its own walls and with outside rivals. What was needed most was a system of body exercises for all boys, whether athletically inclined or not. The work in this field at the Army centers was so significant that it invited, even commanded, imitation. At Andover, the installation of the “step test” as a means of estimating physical fatigue was accompanied by novel forms of “body building,” designed to develop the special muscles required in basic military training. So instantly beneficial did these exercises become that they will be retained without opposition in most schools after the war motivation has disappeared.
An obvious corollary to this “body building” is a more careful attention to the correction of physical weakness, such as defective vision and poor teeth, together with an insistence on periodic medical examinations. The schools have learned much from the Army and Navy about eliminating bodily inefficiency.
Work Program. — The unavoidable scarcity of labor in wartime made it necessary for most boarding schools to seek aid from their students, not only in janitorial service but also in lawn mowing, snow shoveling, and other work on the grounds. Certain schools like Deerfield, Kent, and Loomis have for years asked their undergraduates to wait on table by turns in the dining halls; and in many such institutions the boys have long made their beds and tidied their rooms. During the war, however, this became almost standardized practice in every boarding school. After some heavy snowstorms blocked the New England roads, the boys in many famous schools volunteered to dig the teachers out and even helped to keep freight trains running. The desirability of continuing after the war with these and similar work projects is seldom questioned nowadays by headmasters who have watched them in operation.
Student Government. — For very practical reasons, during a period when many of the more vigorous and influential teachers had gone to war, schools conceded to their students a larger degree of responsibility and freedom than ever before, encouraging deliberately any inclination on their part to face and solve their own problems. Dormitories were frequently placed under the supervision of student proctors, usually upperclassmen who were trustworthy and willing to earn some extra money. Opinions vary among headmasters as to the success of this innovation, but it will undoubtedly be given a further and fairer trial in this post-war era. It has many advantages, and few of the disadvantages, of the English prefect system. A considerable number of the privileges granted to students under war conditions will probably never be withdrawn. Placed on their own, boys have revealed qualities of self-control and resourcefulness which could never, under more rigid discipline, have found expression.
Guidance. — The importance of what is rather vaguely called “guidance” became apparent soon after Pearl Harbor. The evolution which prospective fighting men were to follow had to be mapped out sympathetically and intelligently in accordance with their ages, aptitudes, and preferences, and to this end the use of tests was widely extended. “Diagnosis” and “analysis,” “potentiality” and '“predictability,” became familiar terms on the campus. Doubtless we have relied too much on some of these tests, but the trend was a salutary one, resulting frequently in wise judgments and fairly accurate prognostications. What was at first a very amateurish psychiatry blossomed into professionalism. Good schoolmasters have learned how to reconcile what a boy wants to do with what he ought to do. We teachers are sure to do better work with our students because of our experience with psychologists.
Democracy. — Even among schools generally regarded as “exclusive,” the war has established the validity of the democratic principle. In institutions like Deerfield and Mount Hermon there has always been less real snobbery than in city public schools, where class distinctions and social gradations are resumed when the day’s tasks are over. Nowadays, however, all independent schools have learned that for their own good they cannot cater to only the rich and the well-born. Accordingly they all have scholarships, particularly for the sons of salaried professional men who could not ordinarily pay the high tuition fees. Nor can good schools afford to make any discriminations on the excuse of race or color or creed.
The ambitions aroused by war have made schoolmasters seek for a similar driving force in times of peace. Confronted with the necessity of preparing themselves for service to their country, boys were led to make unprecedented sacrifices of time and energy. If only some such aspiration could be aroused or created in a normal world, we could expect amazing accomplishments from our pupils. Just how this can be done is one of the many perplexities which today confront the leaders of our independent boarding schools. In the fact that this is discussed at all their gatherings lies the real hope for the future of their type of education.
War Prevention. — Above all, these headmasters feel their responsibility for averting future wars by inculcating, in their classrooms and chapel services, a sound working philosophy, by showing their students not what to think but how to think. Upon this younger generation must be impressed early the wastefulness, the weariness, and the absolute futility of war. They must be reminded over and over again how the human race has so often been on the verge of self-destruction and how frequently through the centuries the best stock, biologically speaking, has had no chance to reproduce itself.
Furthermore, I personally feel that in our schools the Christian principle of the Golden Rule can be presented without reference to creed or theological doctrine, so that its importance as a guide to right living can be made apparent. The schools have learned much, often in painful and tragic ways, from 1941 to 1945. Let them now devote their chief endeavors to making it impossible for a world war to break out again.