When I was the tenth or eleventh grade in Hardee
County High School, I had a teacher who knew the most effective way to
discipline me for cheating on a test. It
was in an algebra class and I had not done sufficient study to do well on the
exam. We students sat at tables and I
succumbed to the temptation to copy several answers from my neighbor who sat across
from me. He was not a straight A student
himself, so I risked not only getting the wrong answer anyway, but getting a
wrong answer identical to my neighbor’s.
The next class period the instructor passed out the graded exams and
remarked when finished that he was very surprised to find someone had copied
answers and cheated on the exam. He did
not mention names or point anyone out, but I felt sure he was talking to
me. (I had the same teacher the previous
year in a biology class, and worked hard in the class and did very well. I developed a deep respect for the teacher,
and I think the feeling was mutual.) In
any case, I presumed he was talking directly to me. It had a tremendous impact upon me. I swore then and there that I would never
cheat on a test again. I wonder in what other
more dramatic, sensational ways the
teacher could have handled the incident—for instance by sternly calling me out in
front of the class and arranging a disciplinary conference with my parents in
the principal’s office. This would have
branded me publically as a cheat and shamed me before my classmates and parents.
Would this approach have had a more
positive impact on my future behavior than the teacher’s evidenced trust and gentle
words produced? This stands out in my
mind as an example where considerate mercy and trust when gifted in quiet
discretion can be decisively more effective than harsh judgment trumpeted in a
grandstanding fashion. As is often the case, the determining factor should be the ultimate end in view. I honor this teacher for his concern, courage,
and conviction leading him to broach a troubling subject in a loving and
effective way.
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