Swim School

  Can a young boy learn how to swim by oaring him out to the middle of the lake and throwing him overboard?  Sure.

  Far more will drown, however, than learn to swim.

  One might argue for the “life lessons” a young person may learn when employing such a method of teaching.  One might argue the virtues of “Social Darwinism” and contend that the weak should be allowed to merely die off – that somehow weak tend to make their society weak.  Or one might argue that one’s responsibilities begin and end with themselves, alone.

  I would differ in that opinion.  

  In my classroom, each class is composed of teams of students.  Each student belongs to a team and serves as a teammate to a fellow student.

  When a student is absent due to illness or any other unwelcome event, on returning to the classroom, that student has a network of support waiting.  Teammates take the time to explain missed assignments, teach essential learning points, and familiarize the once-absent student with key aspects of the missed lessons.  In other words, teammates offer a network of support. 

  Churches do the same.  A good church will help the citizens of a community form a team, a network of support, which allows teammates to support one another.

  Government, local, state, or national, was formed to do the same.  The responsibility of government is to create a sense of responsibility not to it but to one another, like that of teammates. 

  A friend sent me this today:

His name was Fleming, and he was a poor Scottish farmer. One day, while trying to make a living for his family, he heard a cry for help coming from a nearby bog. He dropped his tools and ran to the bog.

There, mired to his waist in black muck, was a terrified boy, screaming and struggling to free himself. Farmer Fleming saved the lad from what could have been a slow and terrifying death.

The next day, a fancy carriage pulled up to the Scotsman's sparse surroundings. An elegantly dressed nobleman stepped out and introduced himself as the father of the boy Farmer Fleming had saved.

'I want to repay you,' said the nobleman. 'You saved my son's life.'

'No, I can't accept payment for what I did,' the Scottish farmer replied waving off the offer. At that moment, the farmer's own son came to the door of the family hovel.

'Is that your son?' the nobleman asked.

'Yes,' the farmer replied proudly.

'I'll make you a deal. Let me provide him with the level of education my own son will enjoy If the lad is anything like his father, he'll no doubt grow to  be a man we both will be proud of.' And that he did.

Farmer Fleming's son attended the  very best schools and in time, graduated from  St. Mary's Hospital Medical School in London,  and went on to become known throughout the world  as the noted Sir Alexander Fleming, the  discoverer of  Penicillin.

Years afterward, the same nobleman's son who was saved from the  bog was stricken with pneumonia.

What saved his life this time? Penicillin.

The name of the nobleman? Lord Randolph Churchill... His son's name?

Sir Winston  Churchill.

Someone once said: What  goes around comes around.

  Our students are reading Sophocles’ Antigone.

  In Antigone, the heroin acts according to her faith, her values, her sense of humanity, and serves those around her in an effort for the “greater good”. 

ISMENE:  You’re very cheerful.

ANTIGONE: That is because I’m helping those I know that I should help.

  Our students learn Lawrence Kohlberg’s Theory of Moral Development.

  The most basic, rudimentary, primitive and animalistic reason for doing what is right is to avoid punishment.  Next, to gain reward.  Next, to conform. 

  However, as one elevates the reasoning behind their behavior, one will do what is right because it is the right thing to do…

…doing what is right for the right reasons. 

  That is legal.

  That is spiritual.

  That is scholastic.

  There is educational argument for throwing anyone overboard.

 

  Schools create swimmers. 

  Schools create teammates… 

  And give students an opportunity to display their courage.