I volunteer at my child’s elementary school
teaching ethics once a week. In my public-
school system in Australia, parents can opt
for ethics classes for their children instead
of religious instruction from volunteers
of various faiths; parents can also choose
‘‘nonscripture,’’ a class period during which
a child does his or her homework. Ethics
teachers follow a set script, approved by
the department of education, and cannot
depart from it. Th e job of the ethics teacher
is to facilitate discussion and encourage the
children to disagree and listen respectfully.
But, the thing is, it’s going very badly.
Th e class is absolute mayhem; I had
no idea students could be this wild and
disrespectful. When I started last year
with a diff erent class, the behavior was
similarly challenging, but I viewed it as
an interesting albeit unpleasant learning
curve for someone with little experience of
children. Now on weekends, I am starting
to dread Monday’s class and wake up
on the day with a stomachache. I fear
I am starting to dislike children, and I
also wonder whether students who are
this rude to an adult will take it into the
playground against my own child (who
is not in this class but in the same year).
It is not every pupil — some are lovely
and doing their best; some are just
energetic and need a bit of help focusing —
and I feel I owe it to them to stick with the
class (there is a scarcity of volunteers). All
the volunteers are asked to commit for a
year, which I’m not even halfway through.
As a parent, I’m always encouraging
children to stick with something tough.
But I worry I am patently unsuited to
this task and that it is having a negative
impact on me and my health. I don’t want
so many unpleasant interactions with
children, particularly my child’s peers.
It’s also unclear whether I am bringing
anything of value to the children.
Is it better to stick with something
that’s awful and possibly pointless
because you made a commitment? Or to
put yourself and your stomach fi rst?Name WithheldLet’s look at the balance sheet here.
Suppose you were to stick it out. On the14 10.20.19 Illustration by Tomi Um
Illustration by Louise Zergaeng PomeroyThe Ethicist By Kwame Anthony Appiah
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Eighth Avenue, New
York, N.Y. 10018.
(Include a daytime
phone number.)Evangeline writes:
I currently live with
my boyfriend, Nate.
We have had an
ongoing argument
about the toilet seat.
He believes that he
should not put the
seat down after
he uses the toilet.
I, on the other hand,
believe it is the
man’s responsibility
to put the toilet seat
down after he uses
it. To this day, we still
cannot agree as to
who is right and who
is wrong. He still
leaves the seat up,
and it still drives me
nuts. Please help!
————
I came close to
throwing this letter
away, as I thought
it was a joke. Surely,
Nate must know how
long this battle has
been fought, what
an ancient, stale
staple of relationship
humor it is and how
solidly the law has
been settled in this
regard. But I guess
not, so I say it now:
Nate and all men
everywhere, put the
seat down! And while
I rarely go this far,
I would advise you
two cease sharing
a toilet if Nate does
not comply. Clichés
make terrible life
partners.Bonus Advice
From Judge
John Hodgmannegative side, you’re unable to prevent
many of the students from misbehaving
(which can’t be good for their education),
you’re having a horrible time and you’re
concerned that some of the children who
treat you badly will direct this bad behav-
ior toward your own child. Especially
given that the few students you could be
helping would surely do at least as well
with a replacement teacher, what we’ve
got on the positive side is that you would
be fulfi lling an obligation you voluntarily
undertook. You would be doing the job
because you said you would.
Here’s the problem. The point of mak-
ing commitments is to allow others to
rely on you. In this case, though, you’re
not doing what the school and your fellow
parents were relying on you to do, which is
to conduct the class at a basic level of com-
petence. Your obligation isn’t to go on fail-
ing; it’s to try to get the students through a
successful year of ethics. You haven’t taken
your commitment seriously if you keep the
form of what you agreed to do (show up in
the classroom) while failing at the content
(running the class successfully).
So you’re asking me the wrong ques-
tion. The right question is how to secure
the objective everyone wants. A good
start would be to go to the school, explain
what’s going on and ask for help. Teach-
ers aren’t likely to condemn an amateur
who admits that he or she is having a hard
time doing what they are professionally
prepared to do.
Certain teachers seem to have a natural
air of command; others become compe-
tent at managing their classrooms with
training; a few discover that teaching just
isn’t for them. While you seethe at these
little savages, remember that the child
who is a devil in one classroom may be
a perfect angel in another. Pedagogy is
about dealing with students as they actu-
ally are. Right now, you’re the one who
needs to be taught. See if you can learn
how to control a class of young children.
And if you can’t? One way of taking your
commitment seriously would be to enlist
somebody to replace you.I was born without a left hand. I have
been on the receiving end of a lot
of perhaps unintentional but ultimately
unethical behavior , but I am a realist, and
I accept that being a unique individual
means I will have unique experiences.
Besides the stares, the questions