Demand courtesy in the nation's schools? States say 'No, sir'

AIKEN, S.C. - For teacher Bonnie Pattison, it's a simple equation. Courtesy equals respect. ''Yes, ma'am'' equals decency. And, she hopes, respect and decency add up to a school where children learn not only math but manners and morals.

In her classroom and throughout East Aiken Elementary, students say ''yes, sir'' and ''no, ma'am.'' They learn about forgiveness and generosity. Children are encouraged to hold the doors for others.

''It's the right thing to do. It shows you're a gentleman and a lady,'' Mrs. Pattison says. ''It can't NOT work.''

The idea, made law in Louisiana last year, caught on briefly with legislators across the nation, from Mississippi to Minnesota. Governors in Alabama and South Carolina pushed ''yes, ma'am'' laws as the country reeled from violence at Colorado's Columbine High and other schools.

Ultimately, lawmakers said no, though debate continues in North Carolina and South Carolina. Some warned of Big Brother meddling in family business. Others complained it was a superficial response to deep societal problems.

''This is just fluff,'' says Alabama state Rep. John Rogers. Preferring to strengthen schools with better teacher pay and training, he helped kill the bill earlier this month.

And in Rogers' Southern state, the ''yes, ma'am'' proposal brought back uncomfortable reminders of slavery and Jim Crow days.

''If you didn't say 'yes, sir' or 'no, sir,' you were going to get 40 lashes,'' Rogers recalls. ''It's the wrong message to send to kids at school, especially black kids.''

Supporters, including black legislators in Louisiana and South Carolina, say courtesy is a step in the right direction, a part of a comprehensive program to teach values.

''The whole idea that civility shouldn't be dead, I think helps,'' Louisiana Gov. Mike Foster says. ''I've had teacher after teacher tell me that it's changed the whole experience in the classroom.''

Still, Foster is working to improve teacher pay and devotes his yearly $95,000 salary to awards for innovative teachers.

In Louisiana, failure to address a teacher respectfully is a minor offense that can bring detention but not suspension or expulsion. The state keeps no data on enforcement.

So far, it is the only state to make it a law. Others rejected it: Indiana, Minnesota, Mississippi and West Virginia.

But individual districts can do what they please - as in, Aiken, which Gov. Jim Hodges considers a model for what South Carolina should do.

Here, each month brings a different character trait to learn, with an animal to carry the message. Attentiveness (a deer); forgiveness (a lamb); gratefulness (a porcupine).

Learning takes time, though. Children from kindergarten to fifth grade still speak out of turn, raise their voices, tumble over each other. But as 7-year-olds rush to gym class, one girl - at teacher Kathy Linton's suggestion - holds the door.

Politeness is not a hard rule, though it's strongly encouraged, Linton says - usually with a raised eyebrow or a reminder such as ''What do you say?''

The students say it helps. ''There was someone who used to be bad in my class,'' 10-year-old Marycruz Figueroa says. ''Usually he, like, talked back and played rough. Then he started being polite and showing respect.''

Efforts to teach values grew nationwide in recent years, as parents, administrators and elected officials grappled with drugs and violence.

Twenty-eight states now require or encourage character education: teaching honesty, fairness and responsibility, and how to make those ethics part of the school day.

''There are a lot of people who believe our society is morally bankrupt,'' says Josie Plachta, spokeswoman with the Character Education Partnership in Washington. ''Our society is starting to respond to the wake-up call, that we really need to do something to help our young people learn how to be good people.''

The approach brings controversy, especially when lessons come tinged with religious teachings. The American Jewish Congress criticized a Florida law that recommended a model rooted in Christian fundamentalism. Similar debates wracked Oregon and Arizona.

The Partnership, a loose coalition of many of the nation's programs, opposes injecting religion into classroom lessons - and dismisses laws that mandate respect. The emphasis, Plachta says, must be on helping children to make the right decision, rather than on demanding it.

Teachers say, law or no law, classrooms take on a life of their own.

'''Yes, ma'am' and 'no, ma'am' is fine, but it's pretty superficial. You're not getting to the core of the problem,'' says Sue Hall, who retires this year after 30 years of elementary school teaching in New Orleans. Her kids are fine, and decent, she says. It's the poverty, huge classrooms, noncertified teachers.

Mrs. Pattison is aware of those problems but believes her approach does more than skim the surface. She still calls her father ''sir.'' She taught her own children to say ''yes, ma'am.'' And she does the same for her students.

Costs of failure are not as distant as Columbine. A teacher for 15 years, Mrs. Pattison picks up the newspaper some days and sees adults she once taught as 7-year-olds listed on police blotters.

''It hurts,'' she says, tears suddenly behind her glasses. ''You think, what could I have done?''

A little courtesy, she says, is a start.

On the Net:

Character Education Partnership: http://www.character.org.