Chapter 2

How shall we account for the illiteracy revealed among both alien and native born? Not by faulty methods of teaching can it be explained, nor by anything else that teachers have done or have not done. Illiterates have not attended the schools. It is due either to insufficient legislation or to non-enforcement of laws, doubtless more the latter save in the case of adult aliens.

From the very beginning of our colonial life, early in the 17th century, universal education has been a part of both our educational and our governmental creeds. A program of compulsory education was early found necessary, early adopted, and never abandoned. Beginning in Massachusetts and going south and west, following considerably behind but then keeping almost even pace with settlement and development after statehood had come, legislation has decreed that every child born into the land or coming into it by immigration shall enjoy the advantages of education, at least to the extent of knowing how to read and write the English language. Every state in the Union has compulsory attendance laws upon its statute books. These laws are not as thorogoing as they should be in many cases but yet, even as they are, if enforced, they should leave almost no illiteracy among people whose childhood has been spent in this country. For the least satisfactory laws--those of some of the Southern states, Georgia, for example, require school attendance for at least four months of each year between the ages of eight and fourteen. But illiteracy, even among our own people, has been revealed--too much of it. The laws have not been enforced. There is the sore spot. Why have they not been enforced? But of that later.

The education of adult aliens is another matter, and a very different one. As a problem it is almost new. That is, it has been only in relatively recent years that it has been recognized as such. True, for several years some of the states most largely affected, such as Massachusetts, New Jersey, New York, Pennsylvania, and others have been wrestling with it, but not very much has yet been attempted toward introducing the compulsory features. And private agencies, philanthropic, industrial, religious, political, and others have also done good work. But all that had thus far been done had accomplisht little more, at the outbreak of the war, than to open our eyes to the existence of a problem. And in our leisurely way we were going about its solution. But war came. The European nations were aflame. We had many Europeans in our midst. Investigations were made. The universal draft was adopted. The revelations were startling. It was discovered that in 1910 there were in the United States 2,953,011 white persons of foreign birth, 10 years of age and over, unable to speak the English language. Of these 56,805 were from ten to fifteen years of age, 330,994 between fifteen and twenty-one, and 2,565,212 twenty-one and over. Note the number, _more than two and a half millions, twenty-one years of age and over--men grown, fathers of families, many of them_--unable to speak the language of their adopted country! And of these 788,631 were illiterate--unable to read or write in any language!

Nothing short of legal requirements on a large scale, and rigidly enforced, absolutely free of cost to the immigrant, can ever remove the menace. The law-making bodies of the country, both State and Federal, must act and act quickly or this growing menace will get beyond our control.

And the long catalog of physical defects--what shall be said of them? Shall they be charged against the "educational forces" of the country? Are they a disgrace from which we must "redeem" ourselves so that we shall not become the "greater laughing stock"? It is perfectly evident that somebody has blundered because the whole sad list of defects is, speaking broadly, preventive and, for the most part, also remediable. But where lies the responsibility--upon the home, the school, or society? Of course, primarily, upon the home; the child comes from the home, goes to the home, is a part of the home, is under the immediate control of the home. But yet, many homes, especially homes of alien peoples, are not sufficiently intelligent to have entrusted to them matters of such far-reaching importance. And many others are not financially able to have proper attention given.

But the school does know. And it, or what it represents, is abundantly able financially to handle the matter. It knows clearly how the child with physical defects is hampered in trying to perform its school work; it knows, too, how seriously the entire work of the school is interfered with when there are many such in the room; and it also knows the handicap under which such unfortunate children face life when school days are over. And the school knows, too, the preventive and remediable natures of these defects. Possessing all this knowledge, why has it not acted? To make a long story short, it has acted. To the extent of its authority and with all the influence and power at its command it has acted, has been acting for many years, and is still acting. For more than a generation the educational forces of the country have been engaged in a nation-wide educational campaign designed to make clear to the homes of the country and to the voters of the country the growing seriousness of the situation. On the lecture platform and from the Gospel pulpit, in the educational press and in the popular magazine, aye, in the daily newspaper, in private conversation and in public discussion, in season and out of season, they have labored unceasingly to acquaint the public with the facts and to urge preventive and remedial action. To the unselfish work of these leaders of educational thought and action, supplemented by the generous assistance of the medical profession, is due the fact of our present-day intelligence in regard to the matter. Educators have been deeply interested, thoroly alive, and intelligently at work. How they have agitated the matter of better ventilation and better lighting of schoolhouses! How they have pleaded for medical inspection and appropriate medical treatment of school children! How they have urged the employment of the school nurse! How they have workt for the playground and the gymnasium and for sane methods of handling the same!

But they do not form the court of last appeal. They have no authority. They all stand in about the same anomalous position as does the man nominally at the head of the educational activities of the country--the United States Commissioner of Education. They may gather statistics, make reports, and suggest action. But that is all. Tho possessing full knowledge of the situation, tho knowing just how to proceed to usher in a better day, they are not permitted to take any action. Responsible? Of course they are not responsible. "Redeem" themselves? From what, pray? "Laughing stock"? How long, oh! how long, will our great army of teachers, three-fourths of a million strong, be unappreciated, belittled, and maligned!

Who, then, is responsible? In the last analysis there is but one answer--the public itself. Since the community at large as well as the individual afflicted is, in the final outcome, a sufferer in every case of physical disability, as also in that of illiteracy, it is its duty, as a mesure of self-protection, at least, to assume direction. Adequate information is at hand as to desirable methods of procedure. Demonstrations a-plenty have been given to prove that the program suggested is feasible, inexpensive, and beneficial. This has been brought about thru the action of a few small groups who have thus presented clear and convincing object lessons. But why must we say "a few"? Why is not such work nation-wide? That is a longer story. It follows.

The United States of America is a Republic--a representative democracy--a government in which all the people participate. And the government of the United States is a Federal government. It is made up of a group of States, each one exercising supervision and control over its local matters. And education has thus far been considered a local matter. And in many ways that soverenty has been still further divided. We have as a smaller unit of school organization the county, and a smaller one yet, the township, and, in many states, a still smaller one, the school district, containing, in many instances, only a few square miles of territory and, of course, a very limited population. But in some respects, within certain limits, each of these small units is a law unto itself, having much to say as to the length of the school term, the character of the teaching, and many other phases including such as the one under consideration.

For these reasons it frequently happens that side by side are school districts, or townships, or counties, with widely differing educational programs. Here is one with attractive buildings, well ventilated and well lighted, well equipt in every way, in the hands of competent teachers, with physician and nurses subject to call. But just over the imaginary line is another with nothing quite satisfactory. They are just living up to the strict letter of the State's requirement and that is all. Not one dollar is being spent that represents the community's voluntary contribution to the welfare of its child life or to the future well-being of humanity.

And why? Just because we are a Democracy. Just because our action must be the united action of many, representing the average intelligence of the entire governmental unit and not that of its most intelligent members. For this reason a democracy is always slow to act along new lines. The majority of the people have to be convinced of the wisdom of the new mesure. And education is itself always a slow process. People change their minds slowly. Slowness of action is one of the prices we have to pay for our democracy. On the other hand, an absolute monarchy can act quickly, for there may be but one individual to assimilate the new idea or to be convinced of the wisdom of the proposed change.

These facts are easily made clear by historical references, and, happily, in the very matter under discussion--educational procedure. In the eighteenth century Prussia, under the two great Hohenzollern kings, Frederick William I and his son, Frederick the Great, the two ruling from 1713 to 1786, made most rapid strides in education. Both were practically absolute rulers, but they were benevolent and far-sighted, and the educational reforms that they inaugurated were basic and far-reaching, such as state-control and support, compulsory attendance, and the professional education of teachers. Being absolute in authority, all they needed to do was to promulgate the decrees and order their execution. The result was that, educationally, Prussia immediately forged ahead of all the other European countries.

England, on the other hand, was a limited monarchy. Her king could not have acted thus even if he so desired. Such mesures had to have the sanction of Parliament, which would have to hark back to an enlightened public opinion since Parliament was a representative body. And public opinion, especially in matters of education, is slow of creation. As a matter of fact, even tho the English people were much in advance of the Germans in civilization and in all the refinements of life, it was not till 1833 that England as a government took her first step looking toward the education of her children thru appropriating money. And the grant of that Act was only a paltry £20,000 a year to be used by two religious societies for the erection of school houses. And it was an entire generation later, even 1870, before they adopted the necessary principles of compulsory attendance and local taxation. More than a hundred years behind Prussia, England was, in the management of educational affairs!

Another illustration of the slow action of democracy is nearer at hand both in time and space, even in our own country. For one reason or another, rather, for many reasons, education was at a low-water mark in the United States the latter part of the eighteenth and the first part of the nineteenth centuries. Thoughtful men, progressive educators, prominent statesmen, searching for the cause and for the remedy, found the one in the poor character of the teaching being done and the other in the establishment of the State Normal School patterned after those of Germany. This was first suggested in 1816 in Connecticut and pretty faithfully kept before the people of New England thereafter. But in spite of every effort, including a campaign of education and the establishment of private normal schools for the purposes of demonstration, it was not till 1838 that the Massachusetts legislature could be induced to act. And she would not have done so then had it not been that a very prominent man of Boston, a friend of the cause, Mr. Edmund Dwight, showed his faith in the movement by making a generous contribution out of his private funds. Note, too, this action from another point of view--the amount of Democracy's initial contribution toward this new great movement in America: Mr. Dwight's gift of $10,000 was evenly matched by that of the wealthy state of Massachusetts! And the $20,000 was the amount planned for the establishment of _three new normal schools_ and their maintenance _for three years!_ That amount to-day would scarcely build a coal shed for each of three new normal schools!

But I am not advocating monarchical methods even to hasten so good a cause as educational improvement. I am merely accounting for our slowness of action in needed reform. For several reasons I should be decidedly opposed to adopting such a program of centralization even if we could. In the first place, not every absolute monarch would act as did Frederick the Great. There are few benevolent despots. In France during the seventeenth centuries the Louises were just as absolute as were the Fredericks in Germany. But they were not interested in education for the people. Again, Germany's system of education, tho objectively efficient, has been far from satisfactory because not based on sane moral principles. And that fact, by the way, has finally been Germany's undoing. Now, we can scarcely conceive of Democracy erecting an educational structure on an unsatisfactory moral foundation.

And still again, the action of an absolute monarch, in all such matters as education, tho perhaps temporarily rapid, is not permanent. Remove the guiding spirit and it slips back. An illustration will assist. Again Germany furnishes it. The little duchy of Gotha, just south of Prussia, serves us. During the Thirty Years' War Gotha had suffered greatly. Near its close, in 1640, Duke Ernest the Pious became its ruler. He had at heart the good of his people. He believed that education could be a very important factor in their upbuilding, and at once put into effect a progressive program. His people were greatly bettered and his duchy became a fine object lesson for other German States. But Duke Ernest died. And his educational reforms, not springing from the people themselves, followed him not long after.

A few years ago President Diaz, Mexico's benevolent despot of nearly half a century, died. And his people, never having been taught how to rule themselves nor practised in the art, went to pieces.

Democracy is slow but she is apt to be sure. Her action in educational matters is often provokingly dilatory, but she holds what she gains and thus continues to progress. She does not take a step forward until she is sure of her ground, but then she stands firm. Her actions are the results of deliberate thought based on adequate data gathered from actual experiments and not to be shaken. Democracy would not give up universal education nor take one step backward in the matter of compulsory attendance to secure it. She would not part with her elementary normal schools for anything in the world. And when once she sees her duty clear she will add to her school workers, in every community, the physician, the nurse, and the playground director. She will do it and, quickly noting improvements, soon wonder why she had not done it long before.

Since so much emphasis has been placed on the conservative nature of Democracy and on its consequent slowness of action, a word should be added as to its possibilities in emergency. Tho we were slow in entering the Great War, once our duty was clear we acted with a promptness, a unanimity, and an efficiency that surprised both friend and foe, giving heart to the one and consternation to the other. Tho a democracy, we invested our chief executive with a power and an authority beyond that possest by any monarch in the world.

So let us not be discouraged. The situation is not as bad as it might be. Our fundamental principles are sound. We are working along right lines and accomplishing good results. Our shortcomings, our weaknesses, our failures, if you wish to call them such, are seen only when our record is compared with a perfect score. The schools have not yet attained to 100 per cent efficiency; that is, the country over. Here and there, under the favorable conditions of an intelligent citizenry willing to follow expert leadership even to the extent of providing adequate funds, are schools and departments of schools of approximately 100 per cent efficiency. And these, as Democracy's experiments, assure us of other advance steps. They are object lessons. Thus Democracy always advances.

Finally, what shall we say? What shall we do? Not to "redeem" ourselves, oh, no! not that! but to approximate the 100 per cent efficiency all along the line? What? Why, knowing that we are headed aright, keep steadily forward with our eyes on the goal, refusing to be stampeded by the unthinking critic of whom Democracy always has a plenty. Take courage! Speed up!

I

ON THE FIRING LINE IN EDUCATION

_President's Address delivered at the Annual Banquet of the Fortnightly Club, Grand Forks, North Dakota, June 4, 1917_

The plan of the military campaign is worked out in the quiet, away back in the rear, sometimes at considerable distance from the place of actual hostilities. It is worked out quietly, usually slowly, and attracts but little attention. But when worked out and ready to be put into operation, the plan is taken forward and activities begin. Supplies are gotten ready, men stationed, guns loaded, the firing line is formed. Here is where the battle is to be fought, where an attempt is to be made to carry out the plans formed in the quiet, back there in the rear. Activity characterizes the scene. Advances are being made, new things being done. Every effort is put forth to realize the plans.

It is not different in education. In the quiet of the laboratories and the study, thoughtful men consider conditions, form plans, and develop theories of educational betterment that have to be tried out, out in the open. A firing line has to be formed, a place where new things are to be done different from the regular conventional activities. The humdrum, prosaic, traditional, everyday work goes on, in the main, all around but at these points where some advances are being tried, a new and it is hoped better program tested. All eyes are centered, all minds eager. The analogy is not inapt.

It is my purpose to discuss briefly some of the things that are happening on our educational firing lines. I want to bring to your attention first, however, the plan of the great educational campaign upon which we have entered, the goal before us at the present time, and then take up a few of the relatively new and typical positions being taken by leaders of educational thought, having the realization of that goal in view. This will present to you some of the things that are actually being done in a few progressive communities and point out possibilities for others.

SOCIAL BETTERMENT, THE DOMINANT MOTIVE IN EDUCATION

If I interpret aright the present-day educational thought, the dominant motive in it all is social in character. That is to say, in all of our plans for the education of children we keep them in mind as future members of society, acting with one another and all working together for the common good and for the betterment of the race. And around this motive, or back of it, or being used by it as a means, can be grouped all the significant educational practises of the time.

Formerly the motive was largely psychological. That is, the school effected its organization, chose its curriculum, worked out its program, and decided upon its methods in order that it might assist the child in the development of its instincts and capacities, thus enabling him to realize his own personality. The great French educator, Rousseau, living in the eighteenth century, was responsible for this movement and it was a notable advance beyond the haphazard and aimless practise of the time. Pestalozzi, the great Swiss educational reformer, Froebel, the German apostle of childhood, and Herbart, the psychological genius of the Fatherland, were disciples of Rousseau and worked out from his point of view, trying to put it into practise in the school-rooms.

And here was the firing line in education for many a long day. True, none of these later men ignored social relationships as did Rousseau. True, a strong case could be made out, if one should wish to defend the thesis, that these distinguished followers of Rousseau, even tho carrying out his program in the main, were likewise inaugurating the new sociological movement. But yet it was not sufficiently clear to dominate even in their own minds. The individual stood out beyond the mass. He filled the stage. Nor did they clearly pass it on to others. As a matter of fact, what the immediate followers of these men got from them was the theory of individualism in its better form.

The best definition of education that can be given from this point of view is _the development of an inner life_. That is what Rousseau wanted to bring about and Pestalozzi and Froebel, and our own Colonel Parker of more recent times, the modern apostle of childhood, had the same vision. And so to Froebel and these others, likewise, the school was an institution in which each child should discover his own individuality, work out his own personality, and develop harmoniously all his powers. True, in that environment and doing all that, the child is going to learn the relationships of society, and thus the school might become a means for social progress as well as the instrument of individual development. But this was incidental. The development of the inner life was the goal. Fashioned in the quiet, in the study, away from the haunts of man, this became the program and the rallying cry, and out on the firing line it was striven for. On the educational battlefields of both Europe and America, where redoubts were being stormed and advance positions taken, this was the one great end in view. It eventuated in the child study movement of the present generation that is now at its height and that has done so much to mitigate the severities of the old time school room practises and likewise greatly aided in putting education on a scientific basis.