It's Not Foie Gras, It's More Like Veal.

I'm going to draw a parallel here: you are aware of the people who decry games like tag in schools in some kind of misguided rush to avoid conflict during developmental stages when kids should be learning to deal with conflict? You are also aware of the people who decry the university professors who bring their politics to the classroom and make dissenting students feel uncomfortable at a time when said students should be learning how to debate effectively in hostile ideological environments?

Same team.

I fought my alma mater on a number of issues, and you know what? I consider that to be among the more valuable lessons of higher education: taking on an institution that holds all the cards. Because I hate to break it to you if you were unaware, but that's life, kid. When I was in middle school we played a game at recess called "Smear the Queer" wherein one kid had a ball and every other kid in the game (and there was no limit to participation) would try to take that kid out and take the ball from him (this was generally a boy's game, not by design, but by nature). The educational value of that game cannot be overstated. It's just you against an overwhelming force, success is only fleeting, and defeat is assured. When I was in college we played a game called "Divestment" wherein a small group of students with no money would try to get the university to stop investing in wealthy companies that conducted business with oppressive regimes such as those in Burma and Afghanistan. It was just us against an overwhelming force, success was only fleeting, and defeat was assured.

It is these experiences that foster growth, understanding, and character development. It is these scenarios that will recur ad infinitum throughout life, and those who are unprepared for them are weaker for it. So I say to those complainers, you are opposing the very thing that makes you strong. Your success will ensure the failure of those who follow you. Educational environments require these elements, for the same reason that gyms don't prohibit weights over 5 pounds.

Leave The Kids Alone. So Very Alone.

Dr. Harry Harlow at the University of Wisconsin performed a series of studies in the 1950s involving monkeys and physical contact. He removed baby rhesus monkeys from their mothers and set up a chickenwire "mother" with a milk dispenser and a plush cloth "mother" with a milk dispenser, and then several variations thereof. He observed the psychological states of these little monkeys, in an attempt to gain scientific insight into the nature of love and development.

Perhaps you have heard about Joyce Kilmer Middle School in Fairfax County, Virginia. They don't permit touching there. Any sort of physical contact between students is against the rules. No high fives. No piggy-back rides. No hugs. The principal at Kilmer Middle defends her policy by noting that her school is overcrowded to the tune of 250 kids, and that when mixed with the youngsters' immaturity, that can lead to a terrifying maelstrom of aggressive and/or sexual contact. The kids play violent games, get in fights, hug people who don't want to be hugged, and generally test the boundaries of social acceptability at the behest of their newly discovered hormonal id. The school's argument is that absolute prohibition of physical interaction is the only way to enforce enough order to educate.

Even when the wire mother was the one giving milk and the plush mother was dry, Harlow's monkeys would go get their food and then scurry back to the plush mother to cuddle. They would play and explore under the benevolent gaze of the smiling face painted on the felt. Those with only a wire mother in their enclosures would curl up and shriek when confronted with anything unfamiliar. They would wrap themselves tightly in their own arms in a desperate attempt to simulate the contact and comfort they innately knew they needed, but it was inadequate. They grew to resemble sanitarium inmates or severely autistic children. If Harlow's monkeys had no mother for the first 90 days, they were irreparable. The window had closed. No amount of love and attention could undo the ravages of the wire mother. The lonely little monkeys went crazy and could never function in a normal environment. When presented with a potential mate, they would often start furiously humping the wrong parts, sometimes grabbing ahold of the other monkey's head instead of hips, sometimes not reacting at all. Those females that managed to reproduce were either indifferent or abusive to their offspring, neglecting them or biting and scratching them to death.

Kids don't live their whole lives in school. They hang out together afterwards, they have families, they have friends, they play sports. Kilmer Middle isn't necessarily breeding wire monkeys by keeping these kids physically isolated for at least 40 hours a week. But they aren't fulfilling their mission as a school, either. They are creating an artificial and unrealistic environment for their own convenience, and eventually those kids are going to leave Kilmer and go to high school or into the workforce and they are going to find themselves in crowds that are not of their choosing. They will be surrounded by strangers in environments of varying structure and protocol. Not having had a structured environment in which to explore those protocols, they will be unprepared, courtesy of their middle school's desire for more rigid order.

Schoolchildren are not receptacles into which knowledge can be poured, provided that they can be held still for long enough. Their development at that young age cannot be segregated into academic and social and physical and psychological categories and dealt with separately, each one in turn. It's everything all the time with the little hellions, and yes, that's a very difficult job to do. Middle-school kids are learning how to calculate the effect of their actions and recognize appropriate behavior even as they learn to calculate the volume of a cylinder or recognize literary foreshadowing. Any educator who would deny that in the name of making his or her job a little easier would do well to go find an easier job and leave teaching to those who have the uncommon fortitude to handle thirty-odd tweens for eight to ten hours a day and still care about their well-being after they leave.