Embrace the Messiness of Character Education…

…for there will be hiccups

When I was in ninth grade, I had a Math teacher, Mr. Phillips, who used to drive me nuts.

After lunch some days, he’d be hanging out near the restroom where I always went. And before I entered, he’d grab me for a little chat.

He’d talk about what great work I was doing, but how he wanted to see more effort. How he enjoyed my insight, but was hoping I’d speak up in class more often.

He was never anything but encouraging. But he also was trying to push me.

And I wouldn’t budge.

I was lazy my Freshman year. And it wasn’t until I was a Senior that I saw that.

I was capable of doing more.

I was a good student, though. I didn’t break rules, speak out or cause problems.

I also didn’t lead, take initiative or think much of others.

Mr. Phillips was on to something. But I had some growing up to do first.

In 10^th grade, I came out of my shell a bit. I took some risks.

I also got in trouble more.

And thus began my journey into understanding better, morally, who I was to become.

My character education had started, bumps and all.

There were hiccups.

—

We all know by now that compliance, though convenient, isn’t the best way to grow students into productive citizens.

At best, it creates students who test well but function poorly outside of the classroom.

At worst, it silences voices and stunts the growth of young adults.

The challenge, of course, is how to create a system where students can learn and grow while navigating all the hiccups that I went through.

Because there will be hiccups.

Philosopher and Harvard professor Michael J Sandel, in his book Justice: What’s the Right Thing to Do, writes that “moral education is less about promulgating rules than forming habits and shaping character.”

In other words, when we stress rules, we aren’t really forming character, we’re teaching compliance.

One of my favorite types of activities I did as a teacher were whole-class collaborative assignments. The task was huge — not just group work — and could only be done if everyone worked together.

This might be creating a world weather map of the 100 largest cities in the world in just 20 minutes, with illustrations.

Or researching and presenting — with visuals — 30 different Spanish holidays in under 30 minutes. On one presentation tool.

I would explain the assignment once at the beginning of class, then sit back and observe.

I called it “controlled chaos,” because inevitably, at some point, students would argue, someone might quit, others would yell in frustration.

But these groups always did the best.

The classes that did the worst? Those who didn’t communicate, everyone working quietly on their own, compliantly.

Because through the chaos of the seemingly-dysfunctional group, leaders would emerge. Voices would enter the space to give direction and comfort. Vision was cast. Roles were assigned.

What I learned was that teaching character is messy.

There will be hiccups.

—

The key to these massive collaborative assignments wasn’t completing the task. The content was important, but it was really just the driver toward learning more about how one fits into a larger group to help the group succeed.

The most important part of the lesson? The 15-minute debrief we always had after.

What went well?

What didn’t?

What could we have done better?

How did you feel? And why did you feel that way?

Did you feel heard?

Were your strengths utilized? Why or why not?

There was growth in that space.

There was also healing.

And when we did it again a few weeks later, it always went better.

Fewer hiccups the next time.

—

Moral education is messy. But there’s no other way. You can’t teach character and compliance at the same time.

The two aren’t compatible.

“Being steeped in virtuous behavior helps us acquire the disposition to act virtuously,” Sandel writes. “We become good at deliberating only by entering the arena…”

“Moral virtue comes about as a result of habit,” Aristotle said. “The virtues we get first by exercising them…”

In other words, character is something that must be done.

But like someone learning a new Math concept or trying to interpret Shakespeare, maturing into one’s complete self will be full of mistakes.

That doesn’t mean there aren’t consequences; there are.

But those consequences should guide growth, not compliance.

And as young adults navigate their beliefs and identities, there will be hiccups.

—

What I can see now, looking back to ninth grade, was that I had a teacher who believed in me and was pushing me to grow.

Not in math, though that’s nice, too.

But as a person.

Mr. Phillips was willing to wade into the messiness that is character education.

It wasn’t perfect.

But he was willing.

Hiccups and all.