The Case for Single-Sex Boys’ Education
Bradley, Damon. "The Case for Single-sex Boys' Education."
International Boys' School Coalition E-News. Sept. 2000: 3-6.
"Not so much the absence of girls as the unique benefits of an education among boys"
Parents of prospective students often ask me just what makes my school
different from its competition in the area. There are a number of
unique aspects I could easily identify, but I am continually amused to
find that many of these parents are startled by my initial response.
First and foremost, I tell them, we are a boys' school. Their immediate
reaction suggests that many parents come to a school like mine not
because we are a boys' school, but oblivious to our single
sex-orientation, or even despite it. I suspect many parents view a
single-sex boys' school as quaint, a kind of throwback to an earlier,
perhaps more genteel day. It is clear to me that many parents, even as
they approach the door of our admissions office, have never stopped to
consider the possible merits of an institution like mine, a school
designed for boys to the very core of its being.
It may seem tautological to suggest that a boys' school knows boys, but
surprisingly it is often a notion that goes unrecognized. Because a
boys' school specializes in educating boys, I think it's fair to assert
that we understand them better and are better equipped to meet boys'
developmental needs at every stage of their education. Girls and boys
move through their developmental stages in markedly different ways, and
often quite out of harmony with one another. Any parent of both a girl
and a boy will quickly corroborate that there are differences between
them far more subtle and far more consequential than mere physical
attributes. By way of generalization, most boys lag significantly
behind the developmental stages of most girls, at least until puberty
and in many cases until the later teen years. Girls acquire language
facility sooner, comprehend concepts earlier, and develop small motor
control at a younger age. There is a certain fastidiousness to the work
of girls that most boys never acquire. Boys on the other hand perceive
spatial relationships more vividly, function longer on the literal
level, and gain large motor control early on. That's why boys are more
physical in nature and more inclined to sports like football and
wrestling, where benefit is gained from large muscle coordination.
Girls develop legible handwriting earlier than boys and girls can sit
still longer than boys. Boys are all elbows and feet. There are clear
developmental differences.
It doesn't take a genius to infer that putting boys and girls together
in the same classroom may not benefit either sex. They may be of the
same chronological age yet not at the same developmental stage. While
it may seem politically correct to view boys as the favored gender in
our society and in our schools, with girls in a subsidiary role, there
is a growing body of evidence to suggest that the exact opposite is the
case. Any boy who is developmentally trailing the girls in his class is
more likely to experience failure throughout his educational career.
Statistics suggest that boys are more likely than girls to manifest
severe learning disabilities, to present serious antisocial behavior,
and even to display significantly more suicidal tendencies. Because of
the composition of teaching staffs, particularly in the lower grades,
boys placed in a coeducational setting may find themselves in an
educational program for girls designed by women. In this setting boys
are often faulted for not behaving like those in the class who are
developmentally advanced, more meticulous in their daily work, more
receptive to classroom instruction and less physical in their conduct .
. . i.e., like girls. In this environment, boys will not be well served.
Boys' schools specialize in boys. Unlike mixed classes, a classroom of
boys does not exhibit an uneven spectrum of maturity; the boys are
reasonably at the same level of receptiveness to instruction. Teachers
of boys have consciously elected that calling, and know very well how
to challenge boys academically and how to engage them in productive
discussion. They do not come to their profession reluctantly. In a
boys' school, the teachers are more likely to be male, thereby
possessing an innate memory of boyhood, and serving as powerful role
models. An effective teacher of boys retains something of his own
boyishness, approaches the boys non-judgmentally, and fully appreciates
the issues they face. He not only instructs them in the classroom, he
coaches them on the athletic field and advises them during free
periods. For these very reasons, the relationship between a boy and his
teacher is most likely amicable, respectful and courteous and almost
never adversarial or hostile.
From their inception, boys' schools have tended to be "meat and
potatoes" kinds of schools, with no particular taste for trendy quiche
and sprouts. By that I mean that most of our schools still expect a
broad exposure across all disciplines, with an emphasis upon a core
curriculum and considerable suspicion about too much specialization too
soon in a boy's educational journey. Boys' schools are inclined to be
traditional in their culture. The program, most likely, will be short
on frill. To expand the metaphor, the educational program at most boys'
schools is not akin to a supermarket where a boy can take a little of
this and a little of that as he walks down the aisle. Our schools want
to be sure of what a boy has in his shopping basket as he goes through
the checkout line.
Boys' schools have also proven themselves to be fertile ground for
inculcating core values and setting high ethical standards. Some forty
years ago, the boys in my school proposed an "Honor Code" as the
criterion of trustworthiness by which each member of the community
would be judged. Personal integrity is assumed, and lying, cheating and
stealing are under no circumstances tolerated. We routinely talk of
civility, perseverance, teamwork, and fair play as goals to which each
boy should aspire in his own life. In this male setting, we teach that
virtue is to be valued more than brute force. While I would not be so
presumptuous as to suggest that these goals cannot be embraced by other
than boys' schools, I do believe that there is something uniquely
masculine about espousing lofty standards that beckon a young man
toward a higher paradigm. Boys' schools seek to shape rambunctious boys
into gentlemen, who discover in their raw virility a more generous, a
more compassionate manliness. I maintain that these qualities are
difficult, if not impossible, to teach to boys in the presence of
girls.
The term "well-rounded" has become hackneyed and worn out through
overuse. However, insofar as it still conveys an impression, the term
accurately describes what boys' schools seek to accomplish: exposure to
the full range of academics, arts, athletics, extra-curricular
activities and community service. School is the place to try things
out, and perhaps the last place in our society where one can explore
without penalty and participate with unexceptional talent. It is
generally accepted that boys' schools will provide rigorous academics
and vigorous athletics, but observers are often surprised to learn that
the arts, both fine and lively, occupy a substantial element of a boy's
day. Likewise, many of our students commit considerable time each week
in service to those less fortunate in our society. Our schools know
that the exemplary student embodies all of these endeavors and is
thereby best prepared for the next leg of his educational journey.
Some may think that an obvious shortcoming of a single-sex school is
the lack of exposure to the opposite sex. And some may argue that such
a school offers a sterile environment for exploring gender and
sex-related issues. Quite to the contrary! A strong case can be made
that boys' schools provide an atmosphere in which issues of this nature
can be discussed openly without the normal shyness and embarrassment
that commonly accompany such candid discussions. Because of the
mentoring relationship boys have with their teachers, they can talk
about ticklish topics with fewer misgivings and greater openness. And
what better place than a boys' school to learn about the gender issues
that have come to the fore in the last decade or so! A well-informed,
enlightened man can teach boys about the right relationship to girls
and to women without appearing to have an agenda to advance or to be
caught up too emotionally in the discussion. A man can more effectively
teach boys of such things precisely because he is a man.
The friendships formed among boys at a boys' school are qualitatively
different from the relationships that boys have with other boys in a
coed setting, and the difference is increasingly noticeable as boys
progress to upper school. When girls are around, and a young man's
fancy turns to thoughts of "hooking up" (to use the modern parlance)
with one of them, then other boys are automatically viewed as rivals,
potential suitors for the same young lady's attentions. Not so in an
all-boys' school. In this setting, other boys are more inclined to be
viewed as kinsmen, as brothers, who are not merely adversaries to be
bested. I am not suggesting that a boy in a boys' school necessarily
likes all other boys, but when girls are not part of the mix, at least
one major obstacle to authentic friendship is removed.
I also maintain that the traditional emphasis upon competitive team
sports at boys' schools makes deeper, lifelong friendships more likely.
When a boy comes to depend upon a fellow student to block for him as he
runs down the sideline, that kind of symbiotic relationship builds a
rather unique esprit. Likewise for the fellow who assists a teammate in
scoring a goal or even a third-string player who cheers on a starting
teammate from the bench. No aspect of school life is as powerful a
catalyst in bonding boy to boy than competitive athletics. Not only
does achievement on the field help to break down normal barriers
between boys, but it has a lasting power as well. Some schools seek to
produce "rugged individualists." Boys' schools tend to produce lifelong
teammates, who remain in close touch with one another years after their
graduation, who stand ready to run interference for a classmate in
need, or to come to the aid of a fellow alumnus who has fallen by the
wayside.
There is an extraordinary depth of friendship and personal loyalty
among graduates of boys' schools. Is it crass to point out that the
alumni of boys' schools tend to support their alma maters financially
in higher percentages and more generously than graduates of other
schools? The skeptic may contend that this elevated level of support is
due primarily to the higher compensation men still receive in our
society. Perhaps that is a factor. However, absent pride in one's
school or loyalty to its mission, significant largesse alone will not
produce such generous charitable support. Just as the friendships of
boys to boys are significantly deepened and enhanced in a single-sex
environment, so too is the relationship an alumnus has with the school
that enabled and fostered such uncommon camaraderie.
I conclude with an anecdote: At my school I routinely meet with groups
of three or four "First-formers" (grade 7) to determine how they are
adjusting to a new division of the school, or in some cases, to a new
school. I often conclude my discussion with them by asking, "If you
were to change one thing about this school, what would it be?" Almost
without missing a beat, the boys respond by suggesting that the school
should immediately become coeducational! When I first began these
series of conversations, I must admit I found myself a little shaken by
the alacrity and incisiveness of the boys' retort. That is, until I
considered the reasoning behind their response. A twelve- or
thirteen-year old boy is conditioned to believe that a school without
girls is like a world without television! They reflect the fear that if
they don't cross paths with girls in school, they will never have an
opportunity to meet them. A seventh-grader struggles with the
anticipation of a life without girls rather than with the experience of
an existence without them.
Fortunately, I also conduct a series of "exit interviews" with each
"Sixth-former" (grade 12) as he prepares to leave school for freshman
year in college. Virtually to a last one, each young man attests to the
value of being in an all-boys school. No longer saddled merely with the
anticipation of the absence of girls, he has by the twelfth grade had
the experience not only of the presence of girls in many walks of life,
but of the unique benefits of an education among boys. That's a
conspicuous mark of single-sex boys' education: Those to whom it seems
alien have a difficult time imagining its advantages; however, those
who have experienced it are utterly convinced of its worth. Alumni
concur. The vast majority of our graduates leave a boys' school knowing
that they have been part of something very special. They entered a
school as bumbling little boys and departed as accomplished young men
who had been extended academically, challenged physically, stimulated
artistically and sensitized to the needs of others. They have learned
along the way that their most valued possession is not anything
material but rather their own good name, their honest word, their
undeviating integrity. They have come to like and respect each other as
schoolmates whose friendship as grown men will only swell and deepen
with time.
My advice to the parent who enters our admissions office unacquainted
with the sundry benefits of single-sex education is to talk with those
who have partaken of this special brand of education and to judge our
schools by our only visible "end product," our graduates. Among them
you will most surely encounter well-educated, thoughtful, kind and
high-minded men. You will discover exceptional models for any young boy
to emulate; and you will find the kind of human beings you'd like your
own son to become.
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