Eisner describes one of those lessons where most school rooms are designed as cubicles along corridors and have a kind of antiseptic quality to them. They tend to be repetitive and monotonous in the same way that some hospitals and factories are. They speak of efficiency more than they do of comfort. Most of the furniture is designed for easy maintenance, is uncomfortable, and is visually sterile. The point here is not so much to chastise school architects but to point out that the buildings that we build do at least two things: they express the values we cherish, and, once built, they reinforce those values. Schools are educational churches, and our gods, judging from the altars we build, are economy and efficiency. Hardly a nod is given to the spirit.Many caring teachers resist this sterile, impersonal environment, finding it as uncomfortable as do the students. These teachers do what they can to create an appealing environment. They do what they can to personalize their classrooms and their relationships with students. They do this in spite of the ever-present bells that trigger automatic movement from one class to the other much like the salivating of Pavlov's dogs. Despite the efforts of these teachers, the kind of place school is heavily influences the behavior of both teacher and student.