Neill wrote a book about his experiences. He got some attention, also some advice. In 1921, he founded his own school. Summerhill he called it - a place where children could be free, could develop in their own way.
Few took Neill seriously. He was an eccentric and his school an interesting experiment. Parents would send him their "problem children", hoping he could succeed where all else had failed. And it is precisely on such cases that Neill built the reputation of his school.
Neill got results. People took notice of him. Government inspectors gave his school favorable reports. Authorities on education became interested in his methods. Summerhill slowly won recognition.
The year 1960 saw the American publication of Neill's book on Summerhill. The intoxicating climate of the middle and late '60s did the rest. Everyone rushed out to establish his own "free school". Wild stories circulated about excesses taking place at such schools. Neill condemned his imitators on this side of the Atlantic.
Most of the "free schools" have failed. Yet Neill's work endures. Summerhill set an example for others to follow. His ideas deserve a closer look.
An odd assortment of buildings sprawls over the campus. Well-equipped craft
shops alternate with pre-fab housing. The modern stands side-by-side with the
makeshift. Nothing to excite the imagination, but functional.
A bell at 8:30 in the morning signals the first class. At forty five
minute intervals it rings again, marking the class periods during the
day. Attendance is, of course, optional.
A tea and cookies break at 4:00 splits the afternoon. Some still go to a class or workshop after that, but most prefer to sprawl out on the grass.
For every ten pupils there is one teacher. The class size averages
six. As a result, the motivated pupil makes rapid progress. The individual
attention and the relaxed atmosphere between pupil and teacher makes it
a good learning experience.
Every Saturday night, the staff and pupils hold a general meeting. All
school business, public and private, may be taken up there. The assembled
group discusses matters of concern, debates proposals, acts on binding
rules of conduct. Everyone present has a vote.
Even the younger children attend the meetings. They do not want anything passed behind their backs. They usually behave - if they don't they get a gentle-but-firm escort to the door.
The meeting usually breaks up in good-humored disorder. Most stay for the
dance that follows.
Neill preferred to enroll his pupils young. Five and six-year olds are
still fairly free of the scars of growing up. The world has not yet
corrupted them and they can benefit most from the freedom at Summerhill.
A child transferring to Summerhill from a traditional school brings with him special problems. He typically goes through a period of "breaking out", of testing his newfound freedom. Some go on window smashing rampages. Others stay away from classes for months. Neill refuses to become upset - he encourages the window breakers to knock out a few more (while sending the bill to their parents) and leaves the hookey players in peace. Strangely enough, the method works. The young delinquents almost always settle down after having played at being a rebel.
In one incident of this sort, a pupil stole money from a teacher. The next
day, the "thief" apologetically returned the money, saying that he neither
needed nor wanted it, he had just not been able to resist the challenge
of taking it. No punishment followed, the incident was forgotten, and
the guilty pupil went on to becom a pillar of the student community.
Neill believed in shaping the school to fit the child. The happiness of
the pupil outweighed all else. Summerhill has, in fact, shown remarkable
success in producing happy children, self-confident, well-balanced
personalities, socially well-adapted members of the human community.
According to Neill, "No happy man ever disturbed a meeting, or preached a war, or lynched a Negro... [or] ever committed a murder or theft."
True enough, but consider - no happy man ever discovered the secrets of nature, sailed across an unknown ocean, freed his people from oppression. Perhaps man needs a measure of unhappiness, of dissatisfaction to light a fire in his breast, to make him capable of the more-than-ordinary. In this context, the prospect of Summerhills manufacturing happy, well-adjusted members of society is just a bit frightening.
New York
Almost a quarter of a century after writing this essay, I stand by every
word. Summerhill provides an interesting counterpoint to the current
"Back to Basics" movement in schooling, and demonstrates that there is
no single "best" answer to the challenge of educating our children.
December 1975
Postscript.