On Problems, Procedures, and Eternal Souls

Imagine sitting at your desk. Little Johnny is being a nuisance again. He won’t follow the rules and continues to cause disruptions. You’ve spoken to him numerous times, and though he always says he understands the issue and will be better next time, here you are, once again, dealing with the same behavioral problem.  

Now picture yourself as a dean or head of school at the weekly administration meeting. You learn that, once again, Mr. Smith is behind on his lesson plans, and his grading for last month is not yet done. He promises you that he will get it done soon; he’s just been busy lately. 

Finally, at the end of the day, Mrs. Jones approaches you in the parking lot with that look in her eyes. You sigh as she asks you a question, which you swear you answered last week and the week before. No matter how many emails you send, Mrs. Jones just doesn’t seem to get it. 

We all face issues like these in the joyous chaos that is education. Students make foolish decisions, teachers drop the ball, and some parents never seem to fully understand what we’re aiming for. These issues will never completely disappear, and how we respond to them matters. The real question is this: How can we respond to problems in a way consistent with our commitments as classical educators? 

The Task of Education 

A mistake I made often in my early years as a teacher was to try to solve problems with policies and procedures. If a student caused a disruption, I would tighten the reins and give him stricter rules. To prevent parents from disrupting me, I had signs posted on my door with frequently asked questions, trying to deter them from coming in to speak with me (yes, really). My goal was to create systems so that I didn’t have to spend so much time dealing with the people. 

By approaching students and parents this way, I committed the same fallacy as the materialist atheist: I reduced people to mechanics. I thought that if I just had the right set of policies and procedures in place, I would finally be able to mitigate all the people problems and get down to the real work of educating students. I so often viewed people as the problem and not the task of education. 

 It can be easy to forget that education, even classical education, is not about reading great books, having lively discussions with students, or guiding parents through classical methodology. While a good education includes all these things, education is really about something far more important: the people involved. The task of educating is, deep down, about building relationships with people. It is about reading and discussing with students. It is about getting to know your fellow teachers. It is about walking alongside parents.  

If the problems in education almost always come from dealing with other people, then the solution should be found in dealing with them too. 

The Curious Case of “Steven” 

Having spent most of my career teaching upper school students, one of the ways I measure my success as a teacher is how many former students’ weddings I get invited to and how many of them call me later in life for advice. It is not really so much about the number (I haven’t counted) but the fact that any of them would ask for my advice or invite me to special moments in their lives. Why would former students do this? Because they know I care about them. Investing my time into the students’ lives reaped far more dividends than any rule or procedure ever could. 

Here’s one true example of a student I’ll call “Steven.” Because I taught band at a private school, I had Steven in my classes from eighth through twelfth grade. Steven would always act out in class. He would talk and interrupt. One time he took his shirt off in class. I would routinely find him skipping other classes to sleep in my classroom closet and even once found him on top of the lockers. To top it all off, on one school service trip, I found out that he had hopped between balconies at the hotel . . . on the third story. He would intentionally do things to rile me up and always found a way to push my buttons. 

Of course, this would tick me off. Early on, I created rule after rule trying to lock Steven in place so I didn’t have to deal with his nonsense anymore. The rules never worked. 

Somewhere along the line, I discovered that Steven lived with only his mother and that his father was a rich party boy who only occasionally showed up in Steven’s life. Steven had no strong male role models. Learning that information was the moment I realized I needed to change tactics.  

Instead of creating more rules for Steven, I decided to check in with him weekly. I would often sit at his lunch table and talk to him about his life, interests, hobbies, and faith. Through these chats, I discovered that Steven was deeply yearning for responsibility and wanted the opportunity to rise to the occasion. He revealed to me that part of the reason he did foolish things was because he wanted others to see him as someone worthy of their attention. So, in an act that seemed crazy to some, I decided to make Steven the student leader of the instrumental music program. 

Much to my expectation, he flourished. He stopped acting out, was consistently prepared, and was a wonderful leader. Building a relationship with Steven gave me success where my numerous rules had failed. He still calls me about once a year to catch up on life, and hearing from him is a great joy for me. 

Your Room is Full of Eternal Souls 

Here’s the point of that little story: My relationship with Steven changed when I remembered that he was an eternal soul. The Lord, in His providence, had given me a small amount of time to really invest in this young man. By spending time with him and focusing on my relationship with him, I solved far more problems than my set of rules ever could. Steven came to obey me because he respected me, and he respected me because he knew I honestly cared about him. I gave him my time and poured a bit of my soul into his. 

God has placed individual souls in our lives because He knows that those souls need a piece of our souls. Policies and procedures can be good things, but they can never replace the investment of time into another person’s life. So, when the troublesome student, the lacking teacher, or the frustrating parent is bothering you yet again, my advice is to sit down over a meal and invest some more of your time into her soul.  

I think you’ll be glad you did.