The Indifferent Girl : Part 1

The Girl and Her Religion
by Margaret Slattery

(Page 6 of 19)

Until she has entered upon her teens the attitude of the "don't-care" is rare with the average girl. She either heartily approves or frankly disapproves of those things that cross her path or claim her attention. But with the coming of the teens those closely associated with the girl often become conscious of the loss of that spontaneous response which has made her such a delight. The teacher is puzzled by this change, wonders if she has offended the girl, redoubles her efforts to make the lesson interesting and seeks to win the girl's confidence. Sometimes her efforts are rewarded by renewed interest but often the attitude of indifference persists. The girl's mother feels keenly the change in her once expressive, often demonstrative child, eager to talk and anxious to join in everything, and says in a tone of condemnation that she cannot understand her daughter.

The presence, in a class of ten or twelve girls, of even one indifferent girl, or the presence in the schoolroom of three or four such girls, chills the enthusiasm of the teacher and the class. Such a girl is a "wet blanket," she is a cloud steal-in across the sun on a glorious morning. Her indifference is contagious. She changes the atmosphere. If the class is planning an entertainment she "does not care" what they have, she does not care whether she has any part in it or not, she has no choice as to the way the class funds are spent, she does not want to look up any assigned topics, do any special work, or take part in any debate or discussion.

She is a very real problem to teacher, parents and friends. To be able to diagnose her trouble correctly and find a remedy for it is well worth every effort of those who have her present and future in charge. Before one can hope to help her he must discover the cause of her trouble. Reprimanding her is of little avail, and discussing her indifference with her is useless.

Some years ago a young teacher in the eighth grade in a public school consulted me regarding a girl of fourteen whose indifference was a great source of trial. The girl came to school with fair regularity. At ten and eleven she had been considered a very bright pupil but was now below the average in all her work. She often expressed the wish that she need not go to school but when allowed to remain at home was restless and unhappy.

Observation of the girl in class showed all that the young teacher had said to be true. The girl took no voluntary part in the recitation and when called upon her usual answer was "I don't know." I talked with her and she said she liked the teacher, she liked the school and her classmates. She did not care about them especially. She did not know whether she would go to high school or not; she "didn't care either way." She did not know what she wanted to do when she grew older. Her excuse for falling so far behind her record of other years and her unwillingness to recite was that she did not feel like studying and that she could not seem to remember what she read. She said she felt well but she was growing very rapidly and did not seem strong.

I called upon her mother and learned that she was greatly concerned because of the changes in her daughter. I was surprised to find, however, that she stated quite calmly that the girl's appetite was not good and that she complained of being unable to sleep and of having "dreadful dreams." The mother had not consulted a physician. She scolded the girl for being lazy and indifferent; at school the teacher reprimanded her constantly. I urged the mother by all the arguments I knew to see a physician at once. She said her husband seriously objected to one's "running to the doctor all the time," and that he thought the girl would come out all right. If she did not "brace up pretty soon," she added, they might "take her out of school and put her to work." During the winter the girl contracted a heavy cold and her indifference and apparent laziness increased. The mother was finally enough impressed by our concern for the girl to take her to a good physician. He found her to be in a very run-down state, in bad condition nervously, and really ill.

A year out of school, spent in a country town with her aunt, where she had the best of food, fresh air and exercise, cured this indifferent girl entirely.

Continual headache is often the cause of indifference, and eye strain or improper food the cause of the headache. The first duty of those in charge of the indifferent girl, before passing judgment upon her, is to make sure that the physical condition is not at the bottom of the trouble. Many a case of indifference and loss of spontaneous interest, which cannot be cured by punishment, by persuasion, by prayers or exhortation, can be cured by a wise physician.

Sometimes a girl becomes indifferent from lack of a sympathetic environment. She feels that others do not care about her and that what she does makes no real difference to any one. She may be surrounded by poverty, where the struggle to exist is so keen that there is no time to think of the girl and her needs, or she may have every luxury yet be denied the companionship of one who understands.

I am thinking now of a girl of fifteen, who does not seem in any way to belong in the family where she was born. Her sisters are at work in the factory and content. They are sweet, attractive and good. But she does not want to work in the factory. She would "give the world to have a room alone, that could be all fixed up," as she would like it. The family cannot understand her. She can have none of the things for which she longs, she is not able to be with the sort of people she loves and admires. She wants good books, she enjoys music and longs to be permitted to finish her high school course. She is willing to work out of school hours, to do anything if only she may continue to study. Because the family consider all her notions ridiculous, and all she longs for seems impossible, the don't-care, reckless spirit and the indifferent "what's the use anyway" are gradually enveloping her whole life.

Surrounded by much that money can buy, a most interesting girl whom I met recently is surrendering all her interests to the "don't-care" spirit because the one great desire of her heart is not to be gratified. She has been urged to enter upon the duties of the social world but says she has tried it and "despises society." She does not care about travel, she wants to be trained as a nurse, enter a school of philanthropy and then become a district worker among the poor. Her father will not listen to the plan, her aunt opposes it, her brother laughs at it.

Copyright, 1913 by Luther H. Cary
Fifth Printing, The Pilgrim Press
Boston