Hate Speech in Schools

and what to do about it...

Over the past few years, political pundits have been enjoying bandying back and forth on “hate speech.” As a middle and high school teacher, when I hear the phrase “hate speech,” I just think of a very particular sentiment that I hear expressed all the time: “I hate chemistry.” “I hate homework.” “I just hate school.”

In a school, school itself is usually the #1 victim of ‘hate speech.’ And kids talk this way simply because it’s the strongest verbiage they can leverage against whatever they feel is the biggest obstacle they face. What they really mean to express is that they feel the object of their ‘hatred’ weighing on them, impinging on their freedoms, restricting them, holding them down. They are often generalizing and projecting their frustrations, and it’s important to remember that, so you can interpret them accurately - because addressing their words at face value is a wild goose chase, a thankless detour, a misdirection.

“Mr. Johnson gives us homework like every single night. I hate him so much.” We’ve all heard this kind of talk from our kids. Sometimes they can be specific: “I hate fractions.” But much more often, kids lack the precision of thought, and speak in much lower resolution, hence: “I hate math,” then, “I hate Garfield Elementary,” and very often, “I just hate school.”

The first step in slaying a beast, of course, is to get closer to it. And that’s no easy thing to do - because emotions are an overwhelmingly powerful force to contend with. (Social psychologist Johnathan Haidt describes an individual as an elephant and its rider - the ‘elephant’ being the emotions and the ‘rider’ being the intellect. I love this image because it illustrates the incredible imbalance in sheer power each has to enact its will). The goal is to help the student think in higher resolution, and realize that maybe there are a few genuine issues or threats at school that need to be faced - be it fractions, or a recent negative social interaction, a disorganized backpack or locker, a difficulty communicating with a specific teacher - but perhaps the whole entire school doesn’t need to be torched to the ground just yet. But if you just ask, “What is it specifically that you hate about school?” you often don’t get a straight answer, because the student often doesn’t have the tools available to articulate him or herself in a candid, honest, transparent, precise way.

1. Don’t take the bait

It’s hard to tell what’s genuine and what’s bait sometimes, but a good indicator is that if the student’s level of emotional arousal is clearly elevated, there’s a good chance you’re hearing an indirect or refracted truth. “I hate Kenneth, Mark, and Vincent,” can mean, “I am frustrated that I got cut from the basketball team last week.” “I hate Mr. Johnson,” might just mean, “I fell behind on the homework last week and wasn’t prepared for the quiz.” I feel like I learned this from watching any given episode of Full House. During some kind of conflict early on, DJ says something to Danny that she really doesn’t mean - but it takes 20 minutes and a bunch of hilarious drama until we finally come to the scene where she says something like, “Ever since we lost Mom, I just - am afraid we could lose you,” and we get to the heart of the matter. I say just skip the 20 minutes of banter (even if it might be hilarious) and find out what’s really going on, so you can deal with it head on.

2. Do a substitution

Whenever my students say the word “hate,” the rule is, they have to re-state the exact same sentence they just said, but substitute the phrase, “don’t understand” in its place. Even if they’re angry, or furious, or even look like they’re about to punch a wall, I make them do it - so they say, “I don’t understand Chemistry.” “I don’t understand Mr. Johnson.” “I don’t understand fractions.” Then I ask them which sentence was more true - the one with hate or the one with don’t understand. Of course, most of them say “hate” - but then they smile, and we both know they’re being smart.

3. Then zoom in closer

Most of the time when emotions ‘take the wheel and steer,’ trying to address the problem head-on doesn’t work, because first, you need to get the wheel back. I think every good teacher or counselor probably has their tricks for doing this, but it has to be the first step. When a student is in a state, it’s like they’re riding a wild animal - a bull - or better, Haidt’s elephant - but anyway, their feet are not touching the ground. The word “hate” usually only comes out when the wild bull of emotions is bucking up against the part of the brain that has words in it. But once it calms down, you can start to disentangle, and ask the Danny-Tanner-style, “What’s really going on?” kinds of questions. “Well what don’t you understand about fractions?” and pretty soon you’re talking about common denominators, and looking at a few example problems. Maybe you have to brush up on some multiplication and division. But that’s where you want to be - actually working at clearing up confusions, and building mastery of concepts. Once you’re knee-deep in numbers, you’ll hopefully take a second to be grateful that you didn’t take the bait and waste another minute talking about Mr. Johnson, and how he “talks so fast,” or how “dumb his vests are,” and how he’s “singling me out because I’m a football player and he hates the jocks,” and all that kind of talk.

And that’s how I deal with ‘hate speech’ around school. If you want to get rid of ‘hate speech,’ a good place to start is by chipping away at hatred. And I think a lot of hatred really just stems from misunderstanding. Certainly there is nothing inherently nefarious about Algebra, comma splices, or reading assignments (even long ones). Maybe the same merciful presumption could even be made about people - even the hyperactive ones, the mean ones on the playground - even poor ol’ vest-wearing Mr. Johnson.

And hey, if you did want to try and start stitching up some of the deep gashes we certainly all see in our wider society, maybe give a few moments’ thought to the people or kinds of people that you ha– (ahem), don’t understand.