An 11-year-old boy in Ohio killed himself with a .45 to his head. The heartbreaking note he left behind said only: “My report card is in my arithmetic book.”
Lest you think this was a recent occurrence, it took place in 1971. Stress has been with our kids for a while, slowly escalating as their world becomes more complex and demanding. Many who are old enough to remember will suggest that pressures on our children began in October, 1957 when Russia sent Sputnik into space. Society’s knee-jerk reaction was to surmise that our level of technological development was wanting; and noted educators responded by placing the solution in the hands of the teachers of that most vulnerable segment of society — our kids. They must now learn at a much more rapid pace, these pedagogues decreed.
That wasn’t all. Even by that time, these same professionals were encouraging a revolt against the child-centeredness of the previous couple of decades, where so much of it was about self-esteem and feeling good. Progressive education, introduced by John Dewey in the 1880s and lasting some 60 years, blossomed into full flower in the 1930s and ‘40s. A return to that utopia will be a long time coming, and it may very well be never; although happily, we still see permutations of that early movement still thriving in Waldorf and Montessori schools.
Undoubtedly, it is just as well that we have tried in the decades since to inculcate our children with the strategies of coping behavior — an emphasis not so much on the removal of stress itself as on adapting to it.
So far we’re not doing very well at that. Unless parents are versed in the necessary adaptive skills, it seems as though a child must be in therapy before learning much about coping.
A good place to begin would seem to be learning the practice of relaxation. Unless this takes place at home, where might it happen? Where might children learn the value of yoga exercises and meditation, or exercises in progressive muscular relaxation, followed by meditation-visualization? Why not the public schools? I hear someone ask.
Why not, indeed?
Probably because were such a thing to happen, we could expect an outcry from religious fundamentalists convinced that we are tampering with children’s minds and that we are introducing Hindu religion into the classrooms. There are ways, however, to prepare children for handling stress in their lives with no potential for harming them in the slightest degree, and most of us who teach do it all the time, albeit mildly. Asking the kids in a primary classroom to put their heads down is an example.
One day as a substitute teacher some 10 years ago, I had a class of third graders climbing the walls. This classroom had, of all things, an electronic organ against one wall. So while they sat with their eyes closed and their heads cradled in their arms, I snuck over to the organ and played “Brahms’ Lullaby.” Although this elicited a few initial giggles, they quieted down, I kept playing, and the principal chose that minute to walk by the classroom, stood open mouthed at the door and walked on, shaking his head in wonder. When I stopped playing, I said, “Heads up, quietly.”
There wasn’t a sound in that room. I think these kids were astounded at the magic of the quiet. Interestingly, a third of the class didn’t raise their heads, not wanting the magic to end. Music, I believe, is underused as a strategy in engendering relaxation and peace in the classroom.
And, surely there’s nothing mystical about teaching deep breathing at school. So, as long as we stop short of yoga mats and hypnosis, I think we’re OK.
Children of all ages need a “happy place” — an imaginary sanctuary they go to in their mind, a quiet spot, probably in nature — a tree in a meadow, a gurgling brook, a hillside of wildflowers — that they have created for this purpose.
These are simple solutions to a serious problem. Next week we’ll look further, because we’ve only touched the surface.
Robin C. Harris, an 18-year resident of Lake County, is the author of “Journeys out of Darkness, Adventures in Foster Care.” A retired educator, he is a substitute teacher for Lake County schools and has recently completed two works of fiction for children and teens. He is available for tutoring in first through eighth grades. Harris can be contacted at harris.tke@att.net.
