The importance of being earnest

I've been reading some articles in the NEA's "Classroom Management" section, and in theory, I like some of the advice. There's a series of articles about the "Responsive Classroom" method, which focuses on principles such as:

• be specific and direct
• talk to kids rather than about them
• praise or criticize the deed, not the doer
• provide choices

This sounds like the respectful (rather than sheerly manipulative) parenting advice which I gravitate toward, the sort which is more about effective communication than mindless behaviorism. The problem is, some of the suggested language is so inauthentic that it makes me squirm to read it. It's like the worst dialogue imaginable in a novel or a movie-- it makes my skin crawl. Consider these examples of what a teacher might say, from the Responsive Classroom series:

I noticed you got your math done this morning with no interruption. That took lots of good concentration, Jeremy.

Show us what it looks like to raise your hand and wait in a respectful way.

I see so many people ready to start meeting. I see hands in laps, legs crossed, eyes front.

You need to sit. When you are ready to use your careful walking steps, you can try again.

Now take a short break and let me know when you're ready to use your good words.

Your careful walking steps? Why not say "Hey, sit back down, we don't run across the classroom like that, you're going to knock somebody down."

Your good words? Why not "Take a minute and think of a nicer way to say that."

Why not? Well, my version, which is what I'd say off the cuff, probably wouldn't work as well. It doesn't have the advantage of embarrassing kids, which I suspect is a lot of the reason the above language works. Surely a 9-year-old wants to avoid having someone tell them, no doubt in a falsely pleasant voice, to "use your words," a directive they've probably heard given to 2- and 3-year-olds. "Show us what it looks like to..." is the way you might speak to a three-year-old, but if you say this to an elementary school student, it's a bit humiliating. I'm reminded of Professor Umbridge again, who J K Rowling describes as having a voice like "poisoned honey," who never loses her cool as she speaks to them all like they're small children.

This sort of artificiality would've driven me right up the wall when I was in elementary school. I would have resented being treated like I was younger than I really was, and I would've distrusted the teacher because of how fake (s)he was. I've written before about problems with praise, but if teachers are going out of their way to say "That took lots of good concentration!" instead of "Good job finishing all those math problems," it only introduces another set of problems. Speaking to a child with odd and detached language is not the same as conversing with them in earnest. If your conversations are that highly managed, you're 'managing' the child as opposed to developing a bond with them.

I have even more of a problem with this kind of overly careful and unemotional language when it comes to parenting. What does it teach my child if they see that no matter what their behavior is, I'll talk to them in the same calmly pleasant tone of voice, employing the same carefully chosen and expert-approved phrases? Doesn't it suggest that I'm impervious to them? Obviously, I exercise self-control and I try not to raise my voice very often, but I don't hide all traces of annoyance when A. wakes her brother up on purpose (again), nor do I hide my horror on the rare occasions when she does something plainly dangerous. I am a human being with emotional states, not a Stepford mom. Anyway, kids have a healthy intuition-- they'll know I'm being fake if I'm aiming for cheerfulness while trying to get cheese out of the carpet. Frankly it might come across as sarcasm. No one likes to be treated so artificially.

You can't speak to adults this way, of course. Imagine your boss addressing you with this kind of language: "I notice your lunch breaks have been rather long lately. Show me how we use our time management skills, okay? Remember, eyes on watches!"