Hall passes and other dilemmas of a progressive educator in a repressive school

Hall passes and other dilemmas of a progressive educator in a repressive school

There are lots of little "teacher tasks" that I really enjoy. I like to put stickers on the tops of papers. I like to put kids' work up on the bulletin board. I take a certain pleasure in arranging kids' desks. But there's one quintessential teacherly chore that I have absolutely no desire to engage in: Giving permission to go to the restroom or the water fountain. I refuse to do this, actually. My kids are allowed to go into the hallway without specific permission and I tell them that I hate it when they ask me to go. Instead, I have a little clothes-pin system in which the kids put a clip by their name on a list by the door as they leave. This way I know who is out of the room, and they can go without interrupting me to ask.

I often hear objections to this idea from other teachers, parents, and non-educators who take an interest in the goings-on in my class: "Won't the kids just leave the room because they feel like it?"

It is true that students sometimes take advantage of my liberal leave policy to 'check out' of class for three or four minutes when they're bored, frustrated, or feeling just plain lazy. This does not concern me in the least, for the following reasons:

a) I am morally opposed to telling others what they can do with their bodies unless I have a damn good reason for it. Teacher or not, I do not have the right to restrict the movement or actions of the individuals in my 'charge' unless the restriction serves some unarguable greater good such as safety or learning.

b) It is valuable information for me as a teacher to know when children are feeling bored or frustrated. They would let me know that in some way or another regardless of my restroom policy. At least this way, I can observe quietly while doing other things instead of having to stop what I'm doing to deal with what the child is doing.

c) Most children would never dream of abusing the policy, and they all appreciate being treated with this level of trust. (It is a sad commentary on our system that trusting ten-year-olds to use the restroom when they see fit is a remarkable act on the part of a teacher.)

d) For those children who do abuse it, I am more comfortable with talking with them about their behavior in a way that gets at the real issue. ("Anthony, I've noticed that you keep leaving the room at the beginning of math, when we do our sixty-second timed drill. Are you feeling pressured by the drill?")

e) Leaving a work-group or other gathering at appropriate times is a skill that must be learned in order to present oneself appropriately in professional settings. Children never get to practice it if you don't provide opportunities. That is: Kids can't learn to be adults unless you treat them like adults to the extent possible. ("Tyrone, it's probably not a good idea to leave the room while I'm giving directions. It's better to wait until the activity has started and you're kind of on your own.")

f) Taking the kids to the bathroom in groups is demeaning to both them and me. Also, they play around in the bathroom if they all go together, and since the girls' and boys' restrooms are on opposite ends of the hallway, I can't monitor both groups simultaneously. Allowing them to go one at a time prevents many a water-fight.

Predictably, my principal has other ideas on this topic. She recently admitted a concern that children were using the restroom too often. "Take your kids in groups. They have to know that they have to control their bladders, that they have to tune them to a schedule, OUR schedule. They can't just urinate whenever they feel the need. Our kids need structure--OUR structure. This is just one way to emphasize to them that they can't just do what they want, that this is a Christian atmosphere and we have rules."

I haven't even bothered to argue about this issue, as any woman who has such a well-developed philosophy regarding the link between urination and the blood of our Savior is clearly not to be trifled with. But I have the feeling that she's on to me. She has cast suspicious looks at the clothespin-wheel at the door, and she keeps sending around memos about the need to monitor children in the restroom. It's probably only a matter of time before the urination hits the fan...