Following last week's Ethics class, 7th grade Ethics teacher Adam Dobberfuhl reported that his Barnard homeroom engaged in a very honest discussion about cheating and the 7th grade maxim for courage, "get involved." His students resisted the idea that they have a responsibility to get involved when they witness another student cheating at school. He honored his students' objections with air time during the discussion and he mostly listened. As a result, he came to a clear understanding of exactly what many of his students were objecting to.
Mr. Dobberfuhl's students did not believe they were affected by the cheating of other students. I don't cheat, they said, but it's not my problem if somebody else does. I don't see why I should get involved.
What if it's your friend who is cheating? Wouldn't you want to help your friend shed this bad habit?
The response to this scenario was interesting. They would not get involved in this case, either, because the cheating, many argued, would eventually catch up with the cheater. The cheater would get caught, learn the lesson, never cheat again. If I just let nature takes its course, they reasoned, the bad habit would break itself. There's no need for me to get involved.
Mr. Dobberfuhl relayed all of this to me, and I was able to plant a slightly different take on the same theme in this week's Do Now. This time, it's on the bus. Charles, a popular 7th grader, witnesses Alex, his 6th grade cousin, being bullied. Charles chooses not to get involved, reasoning that eventually the bullies will grow up and leave poor Alex alone. Let nature take its course. No need to get involved.
In the call to begin, Mr. Dobberfuhl refers to last week's discussion and rehashes some of the points his students had made. He then promises to "poke some holes in this theory."
But it isn't Mr. Dobberfuhl who does the hole poking. The first student he calls on--we'll call him Kevin--is adamant: Charles definitely should get involved. His cousin Alex will get hurt while he lets nature take its course. That's not right.
Mr. Dobberfulh: But doesn't that contradict what you said last week, Kevin?
Kevin: No.
Mr. Dobberfuhl: Weren't you saying last week that you wouldn't get involved if your friend was cheating even though he was being hurt by this bad habit?
Kevin: No! I never said that!
Kevin's sheepish smile and the laughter of the Barnard homeroom reveal that Kevin was, in fact, one of the leading conscientious objectors last week.
There are twenty plus hands still up, waving. Mr. Dobberfuhl calls on Myra.
Myra: Charles should definitely get involved. It might go badly if he does, but if he doesn't he might get in trouble for not standing up for his cousin.
Mr. Dobberfuhl: So you would only get involved to avoid punishment?
Myra: No. That's not what I mean.
Mr. Dobberfuhl: Then what do you mean?
Myra: Charles' family would want him to stand up for his cousin.
Nolan: Yeah, if it's my family then I would definitely get involved.
Mr. Dobberfuhl: So now you're saying you would get involved?
He feigns a puzzled look.
Nearly every hand is up, but Mr. Dobberfuhl leaves them wanting more and transitions to today's reading on Harriet Tubman. There is a sense that this discussion is far from over.
Mr. Dobberfuhl resisted the soap-box urge in this instance. He knew that the students would make his point for him if he was able to draw it out of them with the right line of questioning (and perhaps a scenario they could relate to more easily). A science teacher by day, Mr. Dobberfuhl is very familiar with this kind of pedagogy. It would be fascinating to gather the data, but I would bet that 90% of what Mr. Dobberfuhl says during a typical class--ethics or science--is in the form of a question.
Socrates saw himself as a midwife, helping his students give birth to the truth. Like Socrates, Mr. Dobberfuhl, prefers to draw the truth out of his students rather than deliver it to them. He lets the students do the intellectual heavy lifting. The hard-won idea, the idea that the student has pieced together herself--her idea--is going to be more compelling to her than Mr. Dobberfuhl's.
There is a risk, though. They say good trial lawyers never ask a question unless they know exactly how the witness will answer it. The same holds for cross examining your students in Ethics Class. Going Socratic can backfire if you do not have a handle on how your students will approach a particular scenario or issue. Or, if you do not ask the right questions. In this case, a student's own hard-won idea, the one that is most compelling, then grows in opposition to yours. The student leaves the discussion with a greater sense of conviction, but maybe not in the direction you'd like. Maybe the student leaves the discussion about "getting involved" with a greater appreciation for her original notion of "mind your own business."
But Mr. Dobberfuhl has been at this long enough to know what questions to ask and how his students will typically answer them. And he's got a pretty good soap box tucked away in case he needs to drag it out.
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