Review: Whenever I Call You Friend
Rating: 3 out of 5
Date: 12 29, 2012
When I was a teacher, one of the first pieces of advice I received from veteran teachers was: Don't be the kids' friend.Now, as someone who was naturally gregarious, I found this a bit disconcerting. Why wouldn't I want to get close enough to the students so that trust and respect could be earned? Why wouldn't I want to go out of my way to ensure a safe, secure classroom in which close, nurturing relationships could be established?As is my wont, I proceeded to do what Russ wanted to do and blithely ignored this unspoken edict.It certainly wasn't because of any malice aforethought. I genuinely sought the respect and admiration of the kids by bringing an impish sense of fun and adventure to the classroom. I allowed my students a great degree of latitude and freedom by encouraging them to speak up if there was an issue and by turning many of my lessons into games. I recognized that different forms of learning were present at all times and that it was my inherent responsibility to recognize and nurture the students' strengths by catering to these abilities.As it turned out, I had morphed into Dr. Frankenstein and had unwittingly created a nightmare.Perhaps it was meant to be---a painful but important lesson indelibly etched into my cranial cortex. You see, the freedom that I had sought to inculcate and nurture turned into mob rule and mentality. Within three months I had lost complete control of the classroom, and several times the principal had to come down to the cacophonous din that was my room in order to restore order and sanity. A few students grew contemptuous of my pathetic attempts at classroom management and openly defied my requests to do classwork or to complete homework assignments. Parent-teacher nights devolved into open questioning of my authority as a teacher. My stress level skyrocketed and I began hating my job.Somehow I made it through to June. Once final exams were completed and corrected, I submitted my letter of resignation to the principal and never returned to the classroom.The sage warning at which I had scoffed reverberated within my soul: Don't be their friend.From a formal pedagogical perspective, complete with classroom, desks, computers, students, and teachers' unions---I agree. Teaching six classes a day full of rambunctious students with raging hormones, iPhones on vibrate-mode and overbooked social calendars requires a highly-disciplined presence and battle plan. Ensuring that Beowulf is read and discussed means devising a lesson plan that is both entertaining and educational.For myself, this was a no-win situation. Looking back, I am still mighty glad I got out while I was able to do so.Education is a calling and a privilege. Having the innate talents to impart wisdom upon young peoples' ADHD-like attention spans is universally deserving of respect and admiration. Those who are able to stick around in the field and still thrive after two decades or more are true heroes, right up there with military men and women who do their duties; doctors and nurses who reach out to save peoples' lives on a daily basis; as well as firefighters and those in law enforcement to walk into potential harm's way every day they start their shift.So am I a failure? Hardly. I simply wasn't meant to be in a classroom, that's all.Would I still attempt to befriend my students should I teach again someday? Of course. I'd be denying my very persona if I did otherwise.Friendship, according to yours truly, is an overused concept these days and is often applied in social situations whereby social bonds are tenuous at best and fleeting at worst. Few of us seem to grasp the veracity and gravitas of the term and fewer still succeed in maintaining long-lasting relationships that go deeper than surface niceties and are based upon mutual respect and admiration transcending life changes.We are indeed blessed if we can count but a handful of people who fall into the latter category.So if we can start practicing being a friend to others at a very young age and continue to do so as time progresses, we can impart our wisdom unto them based upon our years of personal experience. Stephen Williams seems to take this mandate rather seriously within his book "How to be Your Kids' Buddy: Build the Relationship as Early as Now." Williams promotes familiarity and mutual respect between a parent and child, and he adds that "(t)he thin line between (discipline and befriending your kids) can be deceiving and very challenging but know for certain there is an appropriate approach without sacrificing anything." (intro.) He is correct in his assessment; this is one of the greatest challenges that any parent or adult faces when relating to the younger generation.But discipline is not the same as overt permissiveness. In any society, rules exist for a reason: to promote social cohesion and foster community. Taboos are delineated from what is acceptable and consequences are imposed for breaking the rules. In this regard there is no real strong difference between a classroom and the larger society in which we live.The community cannot control what another person thinks or believes. That's completely unrealistic and silly. But both parties do have an obligation to each other---the individual has a responsibility to follow the rules laid out by both the letter and the spirit of the law, and the community needs to provide succor and comfort for persons who may not conform to what is conventional, e.g. flag-burning demonstrations and housing for the homeless and the incarcerated.Granted, these are broad examples. But the author makes clear that by befriending our children at a tender, impressionable age, parents and adults stand a very good chance of demonstrating what is proper and acceptable in society.Williams identifies the dilemma of parents trying to achieve balance between making a living and raising children to be solid, polite, well-adjusted, respectable, contributing members of society. He acknowledges that it is not an easy task and supports this by stating that "(y)our success in your career does not justify your failure as a parent so why not work to balance both?" (intro.)Yet for all of Williams's admonitions to be all you can be (with apologies to the U.S. Army), there is a disconnect that is readily observable here. While the Golden Rule certainly comes into play, it seems that the author does not recognize the potential for such a well-meaning approach to backfire, as what happened in my classroom. It is all well and good to promote self-respect and what the French refer to as liberty, equality, and brotherhood. Far more of us should aspire to these ideals with our kids.But unfortunately, unless you are an altruist or a Trappist monk, people are by nature selfish and self-centered. The aforementioned Golden Rule does soften the blow by stressing the goodness factor: thus, doing unto others as they would do unto us. But not everyone adheres to this edict, for numerous reasons.Hence, chaos."Buddy" is an interesting piece; it does lay a framework of parent/child camaraderie that, if allowed the proper care and attention, has the potential to germinate and blossom into a symbiotic relationship of mutual respect, honesty, and productivity. Williams writes prolifically; he usually fosters a Norman Vincent Peale demeanor throughout his tomes, and "Buddy" is no exception. But neither is it truly exceptional. Still, it's worth the time and trouble to peruse and glean this book in order to learn any information you would want to have for your repertoire of social skills.