Filipino child who entertained the faintest suspicion
that it was possible for him to make a fool of himself.
Nor is the attitude of dissent among Filipinos limited
to those who express themselves. It is sometimes
very trying to feel that after long-winded eloquence,
after citation and demonstration, you have made no
more real impression upon the silent than upon the
talkative, and that, indeed, the gentle reserve of
some of your auditors is based upon the conviction
that your own position is the result of indomitable
ignorance. One of my friends has met this spirit
in a class in the Manila High School. A certain
boy insists that he has seen the iron head of a thunderbolt,
and although he makes “passing grades”
in physics, he does not believe in physics. He
regards our explanations of the phenomena of lightning
as a parcel of foolishness in no wise to stand the
test of his own experience, and nothing can silence
him. “But, ma’am,” he says,
when electricity is under discussion, “I am see
the head of a thunder under our house.”
This young gentleman will graduate in a year or two,
and the tourist from the States will look over the
course of study of the Manila High School and go home
telling his brethren that the Filipino children are
able to compete successfully with American youth in
the studies of a secondary education. I myself
had a heart-breaking time with a sixth-grade class
in one of the intermediate schools of Manila.
The children had been studying animal life and plant
life, and could talk most learnedly about anthropoid
apes, and “habitats” and other things;
but they undertook to convince me that Filipino divers
can stay under water an hour without any diving apparatus,
and that the reason for this power is that the diver
is “brother to a snake”—that
is, that when the mother gave birth to the child, she
gave birth to a snake also, and that some mysterious
power remains in persons so born.
Filipino children are not restless and have no tradition
of enmity between teacher and pupil to urge them into
petty wrong-doing. Their attitude toward the
teacher is a very kindly one, and they are almost
uniformly courteous. Their powers of concentration
are not equal to those of American children, and they
cannot be forced into a temporarily heavy grind, but
neither do they suffer from the extremes of indolence
and application which are the penalty of the nervous
energy of our own race. They are attentive (which
the American child is not) but not retentive, and
they can keep up a steady, even pull at regular tasks,
especially in routine work, at which American children
usually rebel. In fact, they prefer routine work
to variety, and grow discouraged quickly when they
have to puzzle out things for themselves. They
will faithfully memorize pages and pages of matter
which they do not understand, a task at which our nervous
American children would completely fail. They
are exceedingly sensitive to criticism, and respond
quickly to praise. Unfortunately the narrow experience