Voltaire and Middle School

As you can imagine, since January 20, teachers have fielded some form of the question, “Well, what do you think?” multiple times a day. It’s taken me a month to craft a coherent response, but my answer is now clear—and it’s the same one Voltaire offered in 1759. In Candide, Voltaire argues for “taking care of our own garden” and asserts that “the mayor ought to cultivate his own garden before he starts telling the governor what to do.” So, when students urge me to take sides in a political discussion, my response is not partisan. Rather, it's an invitation to “cultivate our own garden.” It’s an exercise that obliges us to focus on our own actions and how they might inform those of others. In this way, we are vested with power; the power is not imposed on us. As Voltaire would have it, this is the foundation of democratic responsibility—and perhaps the single greatest lesson we can teach our students, especially those in Middle School.

Of course, no two gardens are alike, so there is no singular educational blueprint for teaching students 21st-century Voltairianism, but Viennese landscape architecture might offer a methodology. In Vienna alone, as anthropologist Robert Rotenberg explains, there are several different types of gardens:

Central to Rotenberg’s thesis is that all of these garden types are beautiful in their own way and that all serve a particular social function. “The models are especially energetic metaphors for the relationship of the individual to the larger group,” he argues (p. 139). Maybe this is why we still use the German word Kindergarten to describe one of the first formalized exercises in early socialization.

Landscape variety isn’t exclusive to Vienna, of course; a tour of the Cape and Islands would showcase plenty of garden designs. And if you were to visit FA classrooms on any given day, you would find instruction consistent with many of these garden types. A 7th-grade science class preparing for the Science Fair this week might feel like the Gardens of Versailles, while an 8th-grade self-portrait project in the art studio feels a bit more like Central Park. I love the cognitive dissonance in that juxtaposition. Admittedly, many of our students are challenged by certain styles and by having to adjust their behavior from class to class. Naturally, some students are more inclined to Victorian gardens, while others feel more comfortable in the Baroque. Some are disquieted by Zen gardens, and some are calmed. This is intentional, for their exposure to these different styles provides them with skills that will serve them well in democratic life.

Through their introduction to different teaching styles and classroom environments, FA students are exposed to different ways of engaging with their community. If we only taught in one style, as many schools do, we would not be empowering our students to think for themselves. We would not be giving them options for how to lead their own lives, how to think about their relationship with others, and how to define beauty in different ways. We would not be teaching them about the vitality and promise of democracy, nor about the power vested in them to influence their landscape.