Accountability
and Redemption
When teenagers make mistakes
Adolescence is an exercise in discovering who we are about
to become—trying on styles of dress, political stances
or even different types of friendships. Making a bad choice,
following that risky impulse, testing the established limits
is part of the territory. The best educators of adolescents,
then, are expert at finding the “teachable moment,”
of helping teens to realize the implications of their decision-making—for
better or worse. Enter: the Discipline Committee (DC)—a
structured but supportive, fair but firm process that helps
a student acknowledge a mistake and begin over.
At
Milton, four faculty members and four students sit in a
DC. Faculty and students are on a level playing field. They
work from an established set of facts (i.e., what happened
has already been determined), and their task is well defined.
To the facts the committee must add the context of the situation,
and determine the right level of accountability for a student
who crossed a community boundary. Once the head of school
accepts its recommendation, the committee communicates its
decision and its rationale to the whole school. The students’
responsibility is real. Students who have served on DCs
name the experience as one of the most powerful learning
experiences they’ve had. Those who appear before a
DC often find it a turning point in their school careers.
They are pained to have disappointed the faculty who believe
in them, and surprised at the support they receive in “becoming
whole” again.
This system allows the School community
to reaffirm its values publicly, again and again. It also
helps a student to own his mistake and move past it, finding
“redemption” among people who want to see him
or her succeed.
An adolescent’s primary job is to
differentiate himself or herself from the parents and the
adults in his life. Teenagers do that through questioning,
pushing back, or through behavior that a family or a community
might find problematic. The parents—who must, in turn,
differentiate themselves from their children, are meant
to respond by holding a child responsible for his or her
actions and supporting him or her in moving forward. That
is how the dance works, for the best outcome. Adults who
refuse to acknowledge the adolescent transgression, either
because they identify, as a parent might, too closely with
a child’s perceived success or failure, or because
they deny the facts of a particular case, can prevent a
student from learning how to behave differently if confronted
with a similar situation.
George Fernald (Modern Languages), a charter member of the
Discipline Committee, which was instituted in 1972 by former
Headmaster David Wicks, serves as secretary of the committee
and has sat on nearly a thousand DCs.
“I believe in the system,”
George says. “It’s not easy to punish students,
so you really need to believe in the system. We committee
members—four faculty members, four students—have
to find a decision that everyone can believe in.”
“It is amazing how the circumstances
of people’s lives affect their judgment,” says
Chloe Walters-Wallace ’03, a student at Barnard College,
who served on the DCs through her role as class councilor.
“I learned not to make snap judgments about people.
So many things can affect people, and you would never have
a clue,” she says. “It’s not that the
DC reveals secrets of students’ lives—because
there is the serious confidentiality aspect of the process—but
it just reveals humanity.”
“I always assumed that the committee’s
recommendations would be divided between faculty and students,”
says co-head monitor Tom Myers ’04. “But if
there’s a split in opinions, it’s almost always
random.”
“The DC experience is a great one,
in the sense that you are on equal footing with everyone
else in the room,” says class councilor Buddy Calitri
’05, “but it is, after all, about assigning
punishment. I’ve changed, because I understand the
nature of mistakes now. Don’t look down on people
who have made a mistake. I’ve learned to be open-minded,
to take a step back, to learn about what happened, which
is usually just a situation where someone handled something
the wrong way, and see that there’s always more than
meets the eye. There is context to take into account, every
time.”
“What I liked was meeting people
and getting to know them in a whole other way—with
equal footing, or on the same level,” says veteran
DC member, Emily Tsanotelis ’04. “Mutual respect
is palpable. It’s not like that, among adults and
students, in any other setting, at Milton or anywhere else.”
Working toward the truth
“We’re only about 650 people
[in the Upper School],” says co-head monitor Sophie
Suberman ’04. “Even so, it’s hard to get
at the truth.”
Sophie hits upon the primary challenge
of the process. Identifying the facts of the matter happens
before the DC convenes. It starts with the students involved
in an issue, writing up a description of what they did.
Getting the facts straight sometimes takes a few days. Dean
of Students Lukie Wells calls it “letting the facts
unfold.” (David Torcoletti, former dean of students,
calls it “focusing on the facts.”)
If you don’t get the facts straight first, then the
DC’s job—moving from the facts to the underlying
truth of the matter—can’t happen. Was this a
violation of trust? Was it a breach of academic integrity?
Was it an unsafe choice? The DC uses the facts to answer
the question for the community.
“From the dean’s office perspective, I want
students to call their parents before I do,” Lukie
says. “Often, they also want to tell their advisors.
I usually give parents a call just to say what’s happened
and that we’re still collecting the facts. It gives
them time to think about how they want to react. Neither
the School nor the parents want to bring a value judgment.
We don’t judge students on their mistakes; we judge
them on how they deal with their mistakes.”
“I think students [on the committee]
are especially important in that they can ask questions
that might draw out particular motives or feelings of the
person being DC’d,” says Caroline Walsh ’03,
a student at Notre Dame University who served on the DCs
for three years through her role as a class representative.
“Often, the students sitting on the DC have been in
similar situations, and this gives the committee a better
understanding of the pressures that influence decisions
in those scenarios. At the same time, faculty members help
the committee to stay focused on the big picture.”
“After we’ve interviewed the
student before the committee, we hear from that person’s
advisor,” Sophie says. “Then all of the commit-tee
members make a personal statement on what we think ought
to happen.”
“The DC approach continues to be
successful at Milton because it allows students and faculty
to converse and work together similar to the way they do
inside the classroom,” Caroline says. “Members
of the committee show respect for the person being DC’d
and for the greater community, which is also affected by
certain situations.”
The dean or assistant dean explains DC
decisions to the whole School at assemblies, though the
proceedings are entirely confidential. “For the sake
of the individual,” Caroline says, “these announcements
made to the student body prevent the rumor mill that often
starts circling after disciplinary incidents. For the entire
community, it is helpful to know what rules Milton will
not stand to have compromised,” Caroline says.
“While people outside Milton are
often mortified when they hear of these public announcements,
what they fail to grasp is the twofold benefit of being
open about these cases,” Caroline says.
“If a student is suspended,”
Lukie says, “we talk about what it’s going to
feel like coming back after three days, help them think
about ‘re-entering.’ I ask them what it feels
like to have done this. It’s important to ask—and
not tell them how they should feel.
“We care deeply about students as
they move through the process,” Lukie says. “They
are usually so worried about being in trouble, and I think
they’re surprised that we hold their hands through
the process.”
Working with parents
One concern expressed by many present and
former committee members is the growing national trend of
rejecting the idea that a son or daughter has done something
wrong. Instead of realizing the opportunity for a key life
lesson and life experience, more and more parents work to
excuse or reframe the situation. They are worried about
the effect of a disciplinary action in the high-stakes game
of college admissions. This response undermines the system’s
efficacy.
“When the pressure [to react in a
particular way to an incident] from families increases,
our ability to teach decreases,” Lukie says. She says
that by trying to take away the consequences or clarify
an infraction in their own terms—through a euphemism,
for example, parents do their children no favors.
“We ask that parents let us do our
job; and we ask them to become part of the process in a
positive way,” Lukie says. “Parents get embarrassed,
scared, protective, sometimes combative, then reflective
and wise, and sometimes thankful (or not).”
David Torcoletti agrees. “It’s
important for parents and the School to become allies. If
you want to make a child crazy, have one adult tell him
that the truth is ‘x’ and another say that it
is ‘y.’
“The best outcome is when a parent
says to the dean, ‘Okay, I know what you’re
going to do. What do you think we should do?’”
“The committee makes its recommendations
on the fullest, most ethical considerations possible,”
says George, who finds external pressure to soften penalties
or the name of “crimes” worrisome.
Individuals, the community and seeking
fairness
How far beyond the imperative that a person’s behavior
should not cause harm to others should the School’s
role go? “Every decision we make is a statement to
the community about a particular infraction,” Lukie
says. “We communicate institutional values that are
in keeping with our mission.”
“I think it’s good that the
DCs are announced at assembly. [That it is public] puts
a face to the issue. We think about what kind of statement
the DC is making to the community.
“An issue that almost invariably
arose at the close of each deliberation was the tension
between creating a solution that was tailored to the student’s
unique circumstances, versus a ‘punishment’
that would express to the School community the seriousness
of the matter,” Caroline says. “It seemed that
faculty, and members of the administration in particular,
often put more emphasis on how our decisions would affect
the student body as a whole. This struggle really highlighted
for me the relationship between the School community and
the individuals that comprise it,” Caroline says.
“Besides wanting to be fair and open-minded
on the committee, I felt it was my duty, and good fortune,
to illuminate for other students rules in the Milton handbook
which the School was adamant about,” Caroline says.
“With the freshmen, sophomores and even Middle School
students I met with for peer education, I warned them of
‘risky’ behavior, and let them know the serious
consequences that might accompany certain unwise decisions.
Sharing my knowledge of the discipline system was always
very important to me.”
“Students are mindful of the penalties
that have been given for certain infractions in the past,”
Lukie says. The School communicates its values in assigning
reasonably standard punishment for certain offenses—an
academic integrity violation (cheating, plagiarism), for
instance, typically results in a five-day suspension, while
getting caught with a beer would likely result in a three-day
suspension.
“Maybe in a perfect world, there
would be no DCs,” says Tom. “But in a way, it’s
good. The process strengthens the community and makes a
point. Serving on the committee [as a student] is inherently
awkward. But I feel like we’re as fair as we can be.”
“Having that ability to empathize
outweighs [the awkwardness of punishing a peer],”
says former head monitor and current Brown University student
Trey Hunt ’03. “In the end, you understand that,
as a leader, you have to be that much more responsible.”
A teachable moment
“I’m impressed by the low rate
of recidivism,” George says. “Students seem
to get the point,” he says. “The results of
the system have been positive in helping people to see themselves
more clearly.”
“We use the DC as a teachable moment,”
Lukie says. “We talk about how they got to where they
were, what they did, the impact of it on others and how
they move through it.”
“I saw a dorm-mate of mine really
get his act together after being DC’d,” Trey
says. “One of my favorite parts of a DC is when we
talk to the student before he goes out. That’s when
a lot of the care shows—when one student suggests
an idea for how the student can avoid the same situation
happening again.”
“First and foremost, this is a teaching
process,” Lukie says. “Students almost always
think that rules are unfair. This process can help students
understand the ‘why’ behind the rules.
“This process can be unbelievably
nerve-wracking for students. But when they realize that
the committee is not out to get them, that the adults care
a great deal about them—they get a broadened view
of adult roles.
“We teach in the classroom, in the
dorms, on the playing fields and here, in a conference room,
we teach to the mistakes that people make,” Lukie
says. “It’s just a continuation of the work
we do every day; it’s not separate from it.”
In addition to suspension or expulsion,
the committee may recommend counseling, which is protected
by confidentiality.
Learning from leadership
“Being a member of the committee
is a great learning experience for students,” George
says. “I’m sure that sometimes the pain [of
penalizing peers] is as great as the pain of the student
receiving the punishment. It’s hard for students to
punish other students, especially because they feel how
much is at stake. Students now also feel more pressure and
more stress related to getting into a desirable school [and
this may encourage them to violate integrity rules].”
As George surmises, the process for student
leaders on the committee can be almost as gut-wrenching
as it is for those before the committee—but that discomfort
can lead to stronger, more confident leadership.
Tom acknowledges that it can be difficult,
as a student, not to take the side of the predominant student
view and, while the outcome is public, the often intense
deliberations and mitigating circumstances that affect the
decision are definitely not public, which can make an outcome
tricky to explain. Would he do it over again?
“I would,” Tom says. “It’s
cool to see the types of changes you can bring about. If
students have power, they can make change.”
Trey says that, of his duties as head monitor,
sitting on the DCs was the least attractive part. “But
in the end, that was some of the work I felt most proud
of,” he says. “It’s empowering to see
students have their voice in these decisions, and I usually
left a DC with the feeling that justice had been done.
“It’s a cliché that
it’s lonely at the top, but I sometimes found it to
be true. A lot of leaders wrestle with that. To serve in
this capacity means that some people can’t look at
you and see a friend, Trey; they have to look at you and
see a person with authority and they wonder if you’re
selling out,” Trey says.
“I learned that in order not to feel hypocritical
while sitting on the committee, I had to try and hold myself
to a higher standard of ‘rule following’ during
my daily life,” Caroline Walsh says. In fact, students
automatically lose leadership positions at School if they
appear before the DC.
“I learned that the way you say something
is ultimately what colors how another person receives it—particularly
peers who do not want to be addressed condescendingly by
classmates.
“I also learned about dealing with
other people, working in groups to arrive at consensus,
dealing with some negative feedback from peers and, in the
end, having to be comfortable with decisions you make.
“I learned that leading by example
is particularly important when you are in a position to
be making judgments of some sort on the actions of others
within the community,” Caroline says.
Heather Sullivan
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