Published February 10, 1999

I am struck by awe as I watch lawyers and politicians carry on the impeachment proceedings in the same buildings where our ancestors outlawed slavery, gave the vote to women, and entered World War II.

Unfortunately, after years of teaching elementary school, it’s nearly impossible to avoid a special type of teacher translation where adult business can be viewed in terms of little people on the playground.

Every teacher spends part of her life on the playground, whistle and clipboard handy.  Inevitably, at least once during the year, there is a “major” feud.  The teacher’s eye is caught by a clump of wrangling students in the distance, and unmistakable shouts and threats are punctuated with red faces and pounding fists.

As quickly as one can run to the scene and pull students apart, the unofficial legal wrangling of the combatants and witnesses begins.  It’s always the same jumble of overlapping cries:  He started it.  It’s not fair.  You’re just playing favorites.  You won’t even listen to me.  He’s lying.  He hit me first.  I only pushed him a little.  I’m going to tell my dad.  Ask them.  They saw it all.  I’m not going to let anyone call me that.  I had to.  I wasn’t the only one.

Twenty years ago, this feud might have been adjudicated right then and there by the duty teacher.  Students might have been set against the wall, punishments meted out, and subject closed.

But schools have learned, as has society at large, it no longer pays to be soft on crime.  Sheriff Joe in Arizona will find room for every offender, even if it’s a cot under a tent.  Voters have passed three-strikes-you’re-out laws.  Mandatory sentencing laws keep judges in line.

Schools have learned and changed with the times.  Every school fight today moves to the front office, with written reports, and an appearance before Her Honor, the Chief Justice of the Playground.  She may like your child, but fighting is fighting, and there are guidelines in place.

School districts have developed a “no sympathy” approach to discipline.  If you “hit,” you will be punished.  There are no “good” reasons.  There is a formal list of “crimes,” and a set list of punishments, all written as official policy in the school district’s manual.  Fights on the playground are at the top of the list for tough justice.

It doesn’t matter who started it, who’s the teacher’s favorite, or who your dad is.  Schools are hard-line districts anymore, having learned that soft hearts and soft discipline create war-zones in the schoolyard.

Politicians, take note.  The President may be your favorite kid in the Capital.  He may not be the only one to sin.  He may be sorry.  But be mindful of the lessons of the little guy.  Bending rules and going soft for the Big Guy, President Clinton,  wouldn’t even be considered if he had to appear before Her Honor the Chief Justice of the Playground.