Eleanor M. Frost and the Narration of a “Picture Talk” — Part I by Carroll Smith

This week for the blog post I would like for everyone to read a short portion of an article from the 1915 Parents’ Review, “Impressions of Conference work with Class II” by Eleanor M. Frost.  It is located from page 567 to 594.  I have typed it here for ease of reading.  Quite some time ago Dixie Moore and Victoria Waters had this article in their pioneering Skylark magazine where I first saw it and from which I now get it for our use here.  Since that time I have read it from a direct copy of the Parents’ Review.  Now, with the Charlotte Mason Digital Collection at Redeemer University College, there will be access online to these articles straight from the Parents’ Review.   Ambleside Online has also done a wonderful job of making the Parents’ Review available.

During Mason’s life there were conferences scheduled during the summers and attended by teachers and parents.  If my understanding is correct, children attended and were frequently in lessons such as the one described in this portion of this article.  Ms. Frost describes a number of lessons that she executed, and I have chosen this particular one for our study.   Next week I will write more about this lesson and hopefully help us glean ideas about narration from it.

I have placed in this blog post a copy of the painting that is used in this Picture Study lesson.  Notice Ms. Frost calls it Picture Talk.  The painting is by Raphael and is titled La Madonna di San Sisto.  Click the links to learn more about Raphael and about the painting.  I have put her quote in italics.

Frost says,

The next subject was a Picture Talk on The Madonna di San Sisto, and the aim of the lesson was to lead the children to appreciate its exquisite beauty and thought.  First I drew from them some of the ideas we gather must have been in Raphael’s mind as he painted, and how we can recognise them.  For instance–that the Mother and Child are coming from, and bringing Heaven with them, as shown by the glory of angel heads–that they come in haste, seen by the blown-back draperies and hair–why coming in haste?–for love of His people.  These and similar points the children delight in discovering for themselves.  Then they looked at the picture with half-shut eyes to see the divisions and shapes of light and shade, the general balance of tones and the composition of the whole; then with open eyes to notice the wonderful serenity and the details of attitude and line.  All this took about ten minutes only, for it seemed essential that after being shown how to see fully, the children should be allowed the greatest and most valuable part of such a lesson, namely, time for a silent contemplation of the picture, that its beauty might speak for itself.

La Madonna di San Sisto by Raphael

It was interesting to notice that nearly all the children knew quite well how to use that time, for most of them grew absorbed.  There was one small detail which made the great charm of the lesson from a teacher’s point of view, and that was that some of the children put down their pictures after the “quiet time” with a short sigh, as though they had come some distance back to the present.  The memory drawings were generally fair.  For the last two minutes the children told me a little of what we might learn about the artist of such a masterpiece, namely, that he must have had a fervent love for holy things.  By a short comparison of the term’s pictures they found how far the general characteristics of The Madonna di San Sisto were noticeable in Raphael’s other works.

One feels that in the study of such pictures term after term, the children are given a great opportunity for good, for the greatness of soul in the painter calls to the possibilities in the soul of each child, in addition to which the development of the aesthetic sense must come as a great uplifting force.

Next week I will undertake some analysis of this very short lesson description and see what we can glean from it about narration as an instructional methodology.

Frost, E. M. (1915). Impressions of Conference Work with Class II. Parents’ Review, 26, 567-594.

© 2013 Carroll Smith

Elsie Kitching and Repeated Narrations by Dr. Carroll Smith

 The question of repeated narrations and repeated readings has come up numerous times over the years since I have been studying Mason.  I want to address this topic in this blog post and I begin with Elsie Kitching’s comment in a 1928 Parents’ Review.  When researching the work of an educational philosopher and giant such as Mason, many researchers (and I am one of those) are very careful when quoting or supporting a concept the theorist promoted, in this case narration, by using individuals who wrote after the philosopher’s life time.  My choice has always been to use only Mason herself and articles that she allowed to be published during her life time.  In this case since Elsie Kitching was Mason’s lifetime friend and companion, I belief it is safe to use Kitching’s work for this discussion of repeated readings and narrations.  Here is what Kitching (1928) said, 

I heard a lesson given some months ago by a junior student of

the College, who was just beginning her work in the Practising

School here, and she allowed four children to narrate the same

passage, and each narration was worse than the first, and the

lesson was a failure. A child cannot be expected to give full

attention to one subject more than once in one lesson. If he

gives his full attention once, that piece of work is done once and

for all. But if he knows that there is the least chance of another

effort being required, he will not pay full attention the first time. . .

The one reading and the one narration is essential if a child is to

acquire the habit of attention. (p. 59-60)

Kitching said early in this same article that the attention of the group was

not enough. Our effort must be that every child’s attention is given fully to any

one lesson. There are two important points to remember from this.  Each child has to do their own learning and in giving full attention each time strengthens the child’s habit of attention.  There are several points that are key to these assertions.

 

First, children should only be required to narrate books that engage them.  Hence, Mason’s requirement that living books be used in her curriculum.  Living books are written in the literary style.  In other words a book of this type has a literary quality to it.  It is not just straight prose or writing, but it is a book that uses well-chosen language that engages the mind and is usually written by an expert that has a gift for communication.  Mason clearly made the point that we do not concentrate on the idea of habit, but we concentrate on the meat (literary style) that produces the habit.  The point is:  don’t give children just any book and expect them to narrate with attention.  Children cannot do this and they certainly cannot develop the habit of attention by reading textbooks and other poorly written books.  It doesn’t work that way.  

 

Second, and closely related to what I just said, do not give children twaddle.  We tend sometimes not to get the balance correct.  In our effort to make sure we are not using books too difficult, we can tend towards using twaddle.  Remember it is the literary style that is the meat for producing attention not twaddle.  

 

Many current writers who engage on the topic of brain research and what it means for teaching and learning provide us with the third point.  Jensen (1998) and Sylwester (1997) discuss in their work how teachers must give more consideration to the length of a class since the human mind is only able to attend for a short period of time.  We all know that Mason knew this years ago and this point is her main reason for short lessons.  Short lessons help avoid the need for repeated readings and narrations.  In other words only provide the amount of meat (literary style) that a child can handle.  For example, a child just beginning to narrate might begin by narrating what they do in the morning from the time they get up to the time they arrive at the breakfast table or arrive at school.  This type of narration can provide scaffolding for children who have never narrated.  It gives them the idea of narrating using something that is familiar to them.  From this a teacher should begin with short readings and build those readings up to longer ones as the child increases in their ability to attend and concentrate. 

 

The fourth point is crucial.  One reads according to the child’s developed attention.  That is, if a child has been narrating a while and can engage with a literary style text for fifteen minutes and then narrate, the teacher needs to be aware of the child’s attending ability.  The teacher needs to end the reading and have the child finished narrating at the peak of attention not when it is waning.  One of the brilliant ideas from Mason is just this.  Always change to another reading selection or active lesson while children are at their peak of attention.  In other words, the teacher should ride the wave that peaks during each lesson.  This is what prevents fatigue and the need to reread and renarrate.  Kitching says, “For the mind re-asserts itself again the moment it makes a fresh start upon a fresh subject, when the child again pays the one attention, and gives the one good narration, but it must always be a fresh start that calls forth the full powers.” 

 

This, it seems to me is supported by O’Keefe and Nadel’s (1978) research reported in their book, The Hippocampus as a Cognitive Map which states that novelty promotes engagement in humans.  We are naturally curious (which Mason has told us) and this curiosity is continuously fed by new content (novelty).  Hence, the large number of subjects, in literary style, with appropriate length of the lesson, riding the wave of attention.  So, you can see that narration is not as simple as we might think.  Mason’s pedagogy is accurate, but it is not easy to follow sometimes.

 

The fifth point is that children are never allowed to interrupt other children as they narrate.  First, it disrupts the train of thought of the narrator.  Second, it is rude and rudeness is never appropriate.  Third, for one child to be allowed to interrupt a child who is narrating, the child interrupting and the adult who allows it, they both have made a statement to the child narrating about how much they value him or her.  Part of the value of a Mason education is its ability to teach us how to value, respect and care for others.  Teachers may interrupt to pass the narration to another student, but it is always done with gentleness and respect.  I always made sure that students knew that they might be interrupted by me to pass the narration to another student, but they would never be interrupted by another student.

 

In a classroom setting how does the teacher keep everyone’s attention while one student narrates.  I have observed that children can assume the position of “Well, so and so has been called on to narrate so I don’t have to pay attention any more.  I am off the hook!”  Smart teachers can cure this problem using several strategies.  1)  Before the first day of school is over (and I mean school-based education or home-based education) students need to know that if you call on one student to narrate, you might stop that student (and if it happens to be in the middle of a sentence) the next student you call on is expected to finish the sentence or pick up where the first student left off.  In others words they must be keenly aware of what is being narrated.  2)  Pair students.  Have one begin the narration.  After a minute or so, call switch and the other student must start where the first student left off.  3) Require students to write a narration several times a week.  4) If you have the technology available have each child narrate into a phone, iPad, computer and email it to you and their parents. 5)  Each child can draw a picture.  In other words narrations should be designed so that every child is completing the “act of knowing.”  Teachers can always save the very last part of a narration for that non verbal or new student who have to be scaffolded into longer and richer narrations.

 

Mason tells us that repeated readings or lessons and repeated narrations actually dissipate a child’s ability to attend rather than strengthening it.  We need to remember that there are many pedagogical factors coming together that makes her approach work and some of them are:  1) literary style books or living books, 2) short lessons, 3) each selection is read once, 4) each child must do the act of knowing by narrating once, 5) and there are others such as the integration of content where appropriate.  

 

The points that Kitching makes are that full attention must be given on the part of

each child. No lazy habits of mind are allowed.  No drifting. No daydreaming. The lesson is read once and narrated once. It could begin with one child, picked

up by another or two and ended yet by another. But the narration is from the

beginning of the content to the end and done so only once with no interruptions.

Children are never to be allowed to return to the same content again.

 

Next week we will pick up with a some examples of narrations provided by several Parents’ Review articles.  

 

 

Jensen, E. (1998). Teaching with the brain in mind. Alexandria, VA:

ASCD.

 

Kitching, Elsie. (1928). Concerning “Repeated Narration.” Parents’

Review, 39 (1), 58-62.

 

Mason, C. M. (1954). An essay towards a philosophy of education:  A liberal education for all. London:  J. M. Dent & Sons, LTD.

 

O’Keefe, J., & Nadel, L. (1978). The hippocampus as a cognitive map.

Oxford: Clarendon Press.

 

Sylwester, R. (1997). On using knowledge: A conversation with

Bob Sylwester. Educational Leadership, 54 (6),16-19.

 

© 2013 by Carroll Smith

 

 

Narration According to G. F. Husband by Carroll Smith

Over the next several weeks I want to write blogs on narration.  Narration is supposedly that simple little pedagogical tool that Mason used and that she called the act of knowing. Some educators wonder what all the fuss is about.  Narration simply cannot do what she claimed. I hope to convince otherwise through these blogs.

I intend to start this series by looking into the past a bit in hopes that this will give us some grounding into why narration is important.  There are many reasons and this blog will show a few of those reasons.  To look back I begin with an article written by G. F. Husband in the Parents Review in 1924 soon after the death of Mason (1923).

In this article Husband (1924) begins his discussion of narration by bringing the reader’s attention to a comment made by one of “His Majesty’s Inspectors of Schools” who said, “The art of questioning is the whole art of teaching and if you persist with Narration methods your teachers will lose the ability to question.  You must question to make the children think.”  For those of us who are working (or have in the past) in many public and private schools (this has also happened in home-based education venues) there is much pushing of teachers to understand how to ask questions.  Not much has changed since Mason’s time.  Of course now the big push is to ask questions on the various levels of Bloom’s Taxonomy.  But, as you will see later there are times when questioning can have a negative effect.  If educators, whether school-based or home-based, use living books with living ideas the need for this kind of questioning diminishes.  Many nonMason educators cannot truly conceive of how this can be true.  But, I believe Mason (1925, 1954) is correct, given the proper food (living books with living ideas) the human mind does what it is suppose to do (p. xxix).  In many educational venues today children are hurried from one cramming session to another without the time to process their learning and thus cannot ask the deeper questions they need to ask.  I wrote about this in the blog on the Sabbath of Learning.  It isn’t because the children are somehow deficient, but the educational system they are rushed through is the problem.

Apparently in England during Husband’s time, based on what he says in this article, elementary schools were doubling their efforts to teach children to think. They were trying to accomplish this task mainly by oral questions. He says, “Teachers pulse with joy when they find a nice sequence of facts for their scholars to negotiate. I recently witnessed a particularly vigorous display of rapid questioning. Each scholar was on tenterhooks, alert for the moment when the volley of questions might be directed at him. The questioner enjoyed himself and felt his power. With a glance in my direction–the glance was a challenge to narration–he said: ‘That’s stirred them up a bit:  that’s made them think!’” (p. 611).  Husband goes on to ask the question, “But had it made them think?” (p. 611). He then proceeds to answer his own question. He says, “It is quite easy, after a little practice, to question children along a line of thought or through a chain of reasoning and to get them to utter thoughts in expressly the phrases required: but the real thinking is done by the questioner. The questions that are of value are informative, they focus attention on a succession of details one by one. When the questions are recapitulatory they are merely mental jabs” (p. 611).  And, he argues, when the child does not give forth the anticipated answer the teacher is expecting, the child is considered to be unintelligent. He gives an example from his own experience. During World War I, he, Husband, attends school in the army. He is quite startled by being dominated by a teacher in a classroom again. It reminds him of the years he taught and thought he should dominate the classroom.  From the army experience he remembers clearly one teacher. He says,

He was extremely fond of questioning (dare I add that in civil life

he was an elementary school teacher?).  Many of his questions

were very bewildering and when answers did not come readily

he waxed sarcastic about our mental attainments. Sometimes

the diatribe was delivered with an air of cold, calm, despair;

frequently, with rising choler.  He generally concluded: “. . .and

now you can’t answer that?  Why! it’s as plain as a pikestaff!”

Of course the answer was as plain as a pikestaff to him,

because he had read it the night before in his book.

We were very uncomfortable for the first few days of the

course of instruction, but learned eventually to shut our minds to

the expostulations and await his answer to the question.

(Husband, 1924, p. 611)

In schools today many teachers would never be sarcastic or demeaning especially in elementary schools.  But even in a less threatening environment questioning can be meaningless for children, because, as Mason (1925, 1954) so aptly says, their questions must be their own questions (p. 16).  The mind seeks to answer questions put to the mind by itself — not by other people (p. 16).  Frequently in classrooms when teachers ask the questions what can really get promoted is 1) whose hand can go up the quickest to be first, 2) the same children want to answer the questions, 3) children who want to please (and most do) try to answer to please the teacher not because they truly want an answer to the question.  There are many reasons why children try to answer the teacher’s questions and frequently, their own desire to know the answer isn’t one of them.

When reading Husband’s description of his class in the army, one clearly sees Richard Allington’s (1994) point of the questioning strategies used in schools. Frequently teachers are looking for “known-answer questions” (p. 23) that we use to “interrogate” (p. 23) children. Husband is making the point that the teacher’s questioning does not cause him (Husband) to think. It merely causes him to try to find the line of thinking the teacher is doing and match his thinking with the teacher’s so that the answer the teacher is looking for could be given.  In this environment children are not analyzing information and transforming it internally to make it theirs; they are merely trying to find an answer that the teacher wants to hear.  Husband explained that the significance of narration is not just the volume of information (although it does provide a means for a large volume of information to be learned) that can be remembered but the fact that through narration the information is transformed internally by the child and becomes knowledge. When this occurs the children own the new knowledge and, he says because of this ownership, “It is a fact worthy of very careful note that children trained in these methods pick up immediately the threads of their work after quite long absences from school” (p. 615).

Husband (1924) gave several examples of how narration can be done by impromptu drama. In the following example one can see how Mason’s belief that attention and reflection fit together like a hand in a glove. Husband’s example gives some insight into the automaticity of reflection through narration. He said,

A senior class had listened to a reading of that portion of

Plutarch’s “Life of Aristides” dealing with the quarrel between the

Athenians and the Spartans respecting the honour of victory

over the Persians. The whole class resolved itself into a Council.

A heated impromptu dialogue was carried on between Leocrates

and Myronides, Aristides intervened, and then Theogition,

Cleocritus, Aristides, Pausanias addressed the council. Finally

resolutions were passed respecting the cost and form of the

memorial. (Husband, 1924, p. 615)

In order for these young adults to assume the role of a character upon one reading required a tremendous ability to concentrate, absorb the information, consider its value and significance, organize sequentially, and take a position of agreement with a character in the story. This requires the children to transform the information in their minds. Husband (1924) said that children, “condense, classify, generalise, infer, judge, visualise, discriminate, labour with their minds in one way or another” (p. 616). This was Mason’s and Husband’s point about questioning children to make them think. Given the proper content (living books with living ideas)  Mason believed that the child’s mind does its function naturally and its function is to think.  Questioning on the part of the teacher causes the teacher to think. Questioning from without does not necessarily enable children to think. Husband makes it clear in his article that questioning from without is not totally obliterated from the classroom. There are times of its proper use.

In the next blog I will pursue some thoughts on narration by Elsie Kitching and Eleanor Frost.  These educationalists from the past have interesting comments to add to this discussion.  Even though they are from the past, what they add to this conversation 100 years later is still worth hearing.

______________________

Allington, R. L. (1994). The schools we have. The schools we need. The Reading Teacher 48 (1), 14-29.

Husband, G. F. (1924). Some notes on narration. Parents’ Review, 35(9), 610-617.

Mason, C. M. (1925, 1954). An essay towards a philosophy of education:  A liberal education for all.  London:  J.M. Dent & Sons, LTD.

©  2013  Carroll Smith

Observation 4 by Carroll and Andra Smith

In trying to grasp Mason’s understanding of education as the science of relations we are met with her profound views of observation and its essential interconnectedness with real knowing and relationship.  In past blogs I have pondered some ideas about observation, especially in the natural world and then in the last blog, Anna and I tried to lay some foundations about understanding observation by exploring the relationship between the observer and the observed.  This relationship goes beyond that of gathering empirical data, or of amassing knowledge to exert power, or using the observed.  Mason’s expanded view of observation involves the person as a whole in a deep, interactive, experiential, caring relationship with the observed.  It is this kind of observation that enables us to know personally and care deeply and I hope to peel back some layers of what it means to have relationships by considering three different examples relating to a household object, language development, and nature study.  Before continuing, let me note that I do not mean to imply this kind of relationship is the same as a person-to-person relationship.

Let’s consider a piece of furniture in the home.  This end table is more than a piece of wood on which to sit a lamp; that is, it is more than just how useful it is to us.  Perhaps you rescued it from the curb trash pile, stripped the green paint, rubbed it smooth with sandpaper while enjoying the smell of freshly sanded wood.  You stained and sealed it, carefully going with the grain.  You are careful to not put water or a hot iron on it that may spot it.  You shake your head when you see a black marker smudge that Anna as a busy three year old left on it and see the bite marks that Corban’s dog left on one leg. Seeing Granny’s converted oil lamp on that table makes you smile. You can almost smell the cups of tea shared with different friends while discussing an election or admiring a new baby. When you misplace your current reading book, you always check the table.  The table is there, bearing the marks and dents, holding the lamp, the books, and the various cups that bring so many conversations to mind.  The day you would have to part with it would make you sad, not in the same way as parting from a loved one, but sad because it is holds so much reality from your life. Losing it will take away something that brings back certain memories and connections that you don’t want forgotten.

That table cannot be reduced to just the material of the wood and screws. Yes these are necessary for you to use it as a table but what matters to you about it goes beyond the function that it serves. What I have tried to describe here is a relationship with a thing rather than a person (although many times the relationship with things involves the lives of people.)  The relationship with this piece of furniture, as with all of life, is not just to observe and take it for our own control and use, but to observe, to appreciate, to savor the moment, to create, to admire, and to respect.

Hmmm, using our sense of smell for a thorough observation.

Now let’s move to consider observation and relationship in a different sphere, that of reading development.  When recently watching PBS, I saw a brief commercial about a mother ecstatic that her two year old could identify the letter R on a TV show.  Now, this blog is not about the consequences of the digital age, but I do want to use this example to consider Mason’s approach to observation regarding children learning letters.  Mason wanted young children to have a box of letters (letter puzzles and alphabet books before this).  I want to suggest that at the outset these letters are not to be used as a tool to teach children to read but as play things. The letters should be large enough that children can play with them by sticking their fingers through the holes.  As the children play with these letters, they are in the process of observation and forming relationships with them. The youngsters use them to create their own imaginary games or stories, maybe turning them into soldiers or characters from a book, or replaying events of the day with them under the sheets after the lights are out, even assigning them names (that don’t match the letter names).  The children become upset when the letters are taken away because they have formed relationships with their letters. Once the youngsters have played with and handled these letters, experiencing them tactually, imaginatively, kinesthetically, then it is a quite natural connection to recognize those letters in print because they “know” their letters. This kind of knowing, of having a relationship with their letters then expands to words, phrases, sentences, and so on.  This relationship then, develops even further and richer because as time goes on language becomes a primary tool for observation–a process that began with children playing with their letters.

Let’s return to the PBS advertisement where the little one learns to identify the letter R from the TV or electronic screen.  How much more distant the object of his learning is from him.  This child does not develop the same kind of relationship with letters as the child does who holds the letters, plays with them, takes her box of letters to bed to play a game under the sheets.  All this very real knowing and observing cannot be done with digital letters on a TV or computer screen.  All this is an example of Mason’s point about the science of relations as a key component of observation.

Another point is that while children at this stage are not taught directly how to read, their playing and interacting with the letters forms the background knowledge from which they learn to read which makes learning more personable and delightful and not at all tedious.

Our relationships with things may frequently be wrapped up in people but not always as in the case with Nature Study.  Just as we can love that piece of furniture, we can love to study insects and come to know them, respect them and appreciate them as part of creation.  By rejecting the implicitly matterialistic or utilitarian view of life which seeks to deconstruct life for our own usages, it seems to me that Mason by suggesting that all of life is about the science of relations is putting forth a certain moral responsibility (and others have referred to this as being God’s viceregents of this earth) towards all of creation and thus she pushed back against observation and science when they were for utilitarian purposes.  This is most clear in her approach to teaching Nature Study.

Getting the correct green takes a good amount of study, trying and retrying until it matches with what we are observing.

Mason (1954) says, “Certainly these note books (she is referring to Nature Notebooks) do a good deal to bring science within the range of common thought and experience; we are anxious not to make science a utilitarian subject” (p. 223).  Again, she is pushing back against dualism–separating science from the rest of life and thus making it a utilitarian object.  She says elsewhere, “As a matter of fact the teaching of science in our schools has lost much of its educative value through a fatal and quite unnecessary divorce between science and the ‘humanities’” (p. 223).  Here Mason is deliberately pushing back against such dualistic thinking.  We are not to view God’s creation as an “object” to possess which tends to happen when we separate one subject, such as science, from another.  We are to view it relationally which requires the humanities.  Children should come “to know and delight in natural objects as in the familiar faces of friends” (Mason, 1953, p. 237).  This is the type of relationship I am trying to describe with the piece of furniture and the letter box.  It becomes like “the familiar face of a friend,” which prevents it from being separated into a box for science for utility reasons only to be deconstructed and used for our own purposes outside the moral parameters set for us in Scripture.

She (Mason, 1953) describes this more clearly by saying, “To know a plant by its gesture and habitat, its time and its way of flowering and fruiting; a bird by its flight and song and its times of coming and going; to know when, year after year, you may come upon the redstart and the pied fly-catcher, means a good deal of interested observation, and of, at any rate, the material for science.  The children keep a dated record of what they see in their nature note-books, which are left to their own management and are not corrected.  These note-books are a source of pride and joy, and are freely illustrated by drawings (brushwork) of twig, flower, insect, etc.  The knowledge necessary for these records is not given in the way of teaching.  On one afternoon in the week, the children (of the Practising School) go for a ‘nature walk’ with their teachers.  They notice for themselves, and the teacher gives a name or other information as it is asked for, and it is surprising what a range of knowledge a child of nine or ten acquires.  The teachers are careful not (italics hers) to make these nature walks an opportunity for science instruction, as we wish the children’s attention to be given to observation with very little direction” (pp. 236-237).  There are several things going on here.

First, observation is a self-directed activity and with this self-directed activity children are taking their steps toward appropriate dominion.  Children choose what they want to paint when they go on a nature walk.  Relationships cannot be worked out by others, but must be worked out by the participates:  the observer and the observed.  Hence the need for children to make their own choices when they go on a nature walk.  Second, teachers are to be very careful not to use these nature walks as a means to teach science-no utilitarian purposes for nature study, although, science is clearly being learned.  She (1953) says, “In this way they lay up that store of ‘common information’ which Huxley considered should precede science teaching. . .(p. 237).  This common information is all the things children learn incidentally by just being outdoors.  Third, there is a purpose but it is not a teacher-directed purpose (and, yet it is because it is the teacher who has the wisdom to allow them to engage with nature).  Fourth, by keeping these records the children are learning to be scientist while at the same time learning to see nature as an old friend.  In other words they are not learning science as just science divorced from the rest of life (dualism), but they are learning science and treating it as a friend.

I want to end this blog with this quote from Mason (1953), “Children should have relations with earth and water, should run and leap, ride and swim, should establish the relation of maker to material in as many kinds as may be; should have dear and intimate relations with persons, through present intercourse, through tale or poem, picture or statue; through flint arrow-head or modern motor-car: beast and bird, herb and tree, they must have familiar acquaintance with.  Other peoples and their languages must not be strange to them.  Above all they should find that most intimate and highest of all Relationships,–the fulfilment of their being” (p. 209).  There is no dualism here.  Education is seen as the science of relations through all of life–from the simple forms of nature to the Highest Relationship we can have–that is with God.

So, a child cannot develop these kinds of relationship with digital numbers, letters, or nature pictures on a computer screen.  While images on a computer screen can certainly increase our knowledge and understanding of the world, it isn’t just knowledge we are after, but it is relationship we are after.  This is not to say that computers and screens are bad and cannot be used.  Just as Mason lists the motor-car in her list, so we would list the computer or other types of technology.  That isn’t the point here.  The point is that children must do the labor of the mind for themselves, that is, in order for them to establish these kinds of relationships, they need to do their own observations, their own record keeping, their own descriptions; they must make ‘old friends’ with the world for themselves through observation.

Mason, C.M. (1953). Home and school education:  The training and education of children over nine.  Oxford:  The Scrivener Press.

Mason, C.M. (1954). An essay towards a philosophy of education:  A liberal education for all.  London:  J. M. Dent & Sons, LTD.

© 2013  Carroll and Andra Smith

Observation Number 3 by Carroll and Anna Smith

My daughter, Anna and I batted around ideas about observation and why it is one of the foundational principles of a Mason education.  This blog is the result of that conversation.

The past couple of blogs I have written have focused on the practice of observation as key to a Mason paradigm.  The first engaged with the organic nature of observing on a farm.  The second considered a few ideas regarding nature study and observation in an urban setting.  This blog is part 1 of 2 that continues to explore observation as a key component of a Mason educational paradigm.  In today’s writing, I explore the nature of ‘observation‘ as defined by Mason.  In Part 2, I build on that exploration to consider the implications of that understanding of ‘observation’ in an educational paradigm.  Unusual though it may seem, today’s blog does not mention the classroom at all – and barely mentions children.  Today’s blog lays the philosophical foundation upon which in Part 2 we consider the concrete building blocks of Mason’s educational paradigm.

Let me begin by raising the two main questions before us regarding ‘observation:’ what is ‘observation’ and what’s the point of it? Or, in other words, what does it mean to observe something  and why should we do it?

Some synonyms for ‘observation’ are ‘monitoring,’ ‘watching,’ ‘examination,’ inspection,’ or ‘consideration.’  My imagination immediately draws images of white-haired scientists in lab coats scrutinizing glass containers bubbling with brightly colored liquids.  A quick Google search of the question ‘why is observation important’ brings images of science classes and posters with color-coded boxes explaining the scientific method. Following this notion, observation is then a process that is lived out through the scientific method: create a hypothesis, complete the experiment, draw conclusions. It implies a deconstruction – taking apart the thing or phenomenon being observed or monitored to analyze its component parts and draw conclusions.

This brings us to the next question: why do it?  One option that is all too common in our current culture, implicit though it may be, is derived by understanding ‘observation’ as a means to knowledge, knowledge as a means to power. The intent for observing then is to know the ‘observed’ completely: to master, to own as a commodity that brings wealth, power, etc.

However, Mason argues that ‘observation’ as a practice is more than simply a process of deconstructive analysis.  She also presents us with a very different intent that is derived from a relational, theological perspective.

Mason certainly doesn’t reject the importance of scientific observations.  Instead, she distinguishes ‘observation’ referring the activity of scientific study as only a part of a whole.  She argues that ‘observation’ actually encompasses a much richer spectrum of meaning.  Mason (1953) connects observation to her idea of the large room: “In fact, how large is the room in which he finds his feet set? and, therefore, how full is the life he has before him” (p. 170)?  She identifies ‘observation’ as part of living a full life.  Now this may seem like a big jump.  What does the practice of observing have to do with living?

As we know, Mason’s paradigm is born out of a relational theology: God is a relational Being, we are made in his image, therefore we are relational.  We know through relationship. Therefore, living a full life is the exercise of developing relationships: relationship to our Creator, relationship with ourselves, relationship with others, relationship with the rest of creation. In this worldview, power is not and cannot be the ultimate goal.  Therefore, observation is not simply a detached process in which the ‘observer’ is completely detached from the observed. And it is not an exercise in domination in which the ‘observer’ consumes the ‘observed.‘

‘Observation’ is a process in which the ‘observer’ develops a relationship with the ‘observed.’ It is the cornerstone to knowing: the starting place for the ‘observer’ developing a relationship with the ‘observed.’  This relationship develops through the sensory experiences of seeing, hearing, smelling, touching or tasting.  However, observation as Mason presents is not purely the sensory experience but demands the attention, care and direct engagement of the observer to the details of the observed.  The intent behind the experiential nature of ‘observation’ is not merely empirical data input as a means to power, but it is learning as a practice of enjoyment and wisdom.

Learning, as understood by Mason, cannot happen outside of relationship. She (1953) says, “The child who learns his science from a textbook, though he go to Nature for illustrations, and he who gets his information from object-lessons, has no chance of forming relations with things as they are, because his kindly obtrusive teacher makes him believe that to know about things is the same thing as knowing them personally” (p. 66).

By rejecting the implicitly matterialist* assumptions of ‘observation’ as an exercise in deconstructive analysis, Mason opens the door for a much richer understanding of ‘observation’ as a practice.  Her understanding is not divorced from the physicality of our existence, but it also does not reduce us to purely physical, atomic beings.  In this, as in many other ideas, she pushes back against false dualisms that pervaded her time and continue to shape ours.

But what does this all mean for the classroom?  If you, like me, need to root the abstract in concrete to really grasp its depth and breadth, this blog has probably left you wanting.    I can only conclude by saying this is not the end!  There is a Part 2 on its way that will plant the ideas explored throughout this blog within Mason’s broader educational paradigm and explore their implications within the classroom.

*Note – Remember that I spell the word materialist as matterialist to remind the reader that I am speaking of the philosophy of life that believes people are only matter.

Mason, C.M. (1953). Home and School Education:  The Training and Education of Children over Nine.  Oxford:  The Scrivener Press.

© 2013 Carroll and Anna Smith

Nature Study in the City by Carroll Smith

The focus of my last blog began with the importance of observation in the Mason educational paradigm.  However, it quickly evolved into the natural, organic way that observation can occur while growing up on a farm.  Eventually, I would like to get back to the topic of the power of observation and why it is so crucial in the Mason paradigm, but first I think it would be helpful to respond to some of the comments that were posted by readers of my previous post.

First, let me say how much I appreciate those comments and how helpful it is to all of us that people are willing to post them.  I think it is particularly helpful when individuals mention concerns or problems they are having that we can all respond to.  It can sometimes feel easier to refrain from commenting out of fear that other people will think that we are not “Mason” enough, but that shuts down the conversation.  I do not have all the answers.  I don’t even know all the questions.  The benefit of a blog goes beyond existential writing about a personal experience; it is a means of building the community and relationships for which we are made.  The dialogue created by comments helps build the community.

After my last post, several readers asked questions about what they could do to help children who have not had the opportunity to grow up on a farm develop an interest in nature.  Or, how can they help children who may seemingly have no interest in nature.  What kinds of experiences can be provided in urban and suburban settings? To answer this, let me begin by describing an activity I did last year with college students who were learning about the arts in elementary education.  One evening, we went outside with paper and a pencil.  The students were asked to sit, listen for sounds, and make a list of sounds they heard.  We were on campus near parking lots, buildings, and people, so at times it was hard to hear sounds of “nature.”  It was surprising to them that the longer they sat, the more sounds of nature they heard.  It was also interesting to hear the sounds of nature combined with the sounds of the nonliving world, such as a car door shutting, a building door closing, or a car passing in the parking lot.  It was surprising to me that the students expressed hearing sounds that they had never paid attention to before.  In the midst of all the sounds one hears in a parking lot, they heard bird sounds, insect sounds, people’s voices, the breeze in the bushes and many other sounds of nature.  The students then had to turn the sounds they heard into a poem.  This is called sound poetry (You can Google that and get more information).

This is a far cry from being so close to nature that you experience it intimately, but it is certainly a place to begin.  In an urban setting, the sounds of nature are probably going to be mixed with the sounds of the handy work of humankind.  Maybe sometimes that handy work is not very pleasant (such as urban sprawl). But the point of this activity is that, in order to develop a love and appreciation of nature, we all must begin somewhere.

There are other ways to begin, such as sitting in a park or at the window of an apartment and listening for sounds. You could also hang bird feeders from apartment windows and/or balconies and learn to identify the birds that come.  Start a container garden in which to grow plants that interest the children.  Learn to identify which ones must grow inside the apartment versus those that can stay outside on the balcony even in winter. You can learn which plants need more sun and where they must be placed in the apartment to get that sun.  Observe the plants with a magnifying glass.  Painting the leaves and stems of the potted plants for nature study can be helpful in learning to pay closer attention to details.

Studying trees in winter is another interesting quest.  You can study their bark, paint that bark, and learn to identify the trees in your neighborhood based on the their bark.  Learning why those particular trees were planted in your neighborhood is another interesting study of nature.  Contact city officials who care for these trees to find out why they were chosen over other types of trees.

This is a maple Andy and I purchased at Biltmore House. We grow it indoors for the fun of it.

Kerri Forney reminded me that Mason suggests studying a spot of nature for a year to observe the changes.  I did this once with a group of children who are now young adults.  It would be interesting to know their memories of that experience. This could easily be done in an urban setting in a park, nature trail or other nature reserve.  If a park isn’t available, have children clock the rising or setting (or both) of the sun for a year, keeping up with the time and the path of the sun.  Use this knowledge to then learn north, south, east and west. Transfer that understanding to learning directionality on a map.  Also use this knowledge to help make decisions about what kinds of plants can be grown in your urban or suburban area.

Of course, caged animals, such as birds, hamsters, and gerbils, can also provide opportunities for observing nature.  Study their habits.  Use feathers that naturally fall from the cage to paint as nature study, paying close attention to the colors and other details.

One key component to this endeavor is that the adult must show interest.  If you are just beginning this endeavor, you as the parent and/or teacher must take the opportunity to grow with your children.  You don’t have to be an expert naturalist; rather, assume the stance of learning with the children about things that you don’t know.  Learning together is exciting, and it provides a powerful model for children, who see that people continue to develop and expand their interests even into adulthood.  Even those adults who have never really had any interest in nature can say to themselves, “I have no interest in this endeavor, but I am going to give it a try.”  Once you begin you may very well find that your interest develops along with the children’s.

Grandparents can provide another whole range of experiences that relate to nature.  They can be yet another example of how we never stop learning. I remember reading in Mason’s books that she believed that we should be learning as long as we have a mind, and since we always have a mind, then we should always be learning.  In addition to visiting the homes (or farms) of the grandparents, technology provides a means for grandparents to share their interest in nature. Grand parents now have the ability to share an exciting new plant with their grandchildren through venues like Skype, FaceTime, and Facebook.  Sending grandchildren pictures of favorite plants encourages children to be involved in nature in whatever way they can.  Maybe grandparents can send the grandchildren the funds to purchase a new plant that they themselves have purchased.  The grandparents teach the children how to care for the plant, talk about the plant, learn what it needs in terms of light, water, fertilizer, etc.  With each household growing the same plant, it can provide many opportunities for conversation between grandparents and grandchildren.  It can also provide an opportunity for purposeful writing.  That is, children can share back and forth in letters (I know, whoever even thinks about letter writing these days!) with grandparents what they are learning about the plants they are growing together.

We frequently are so disconnected from nature that we are not aware of all the many details that are occurring in the growth and development of a plant.  We need to encourage children to pay attention to those details.  How?  Measure a plant once a week to determine how much it has grown.  Put a plant in light and another where it is darker.  Measure them over the course of a month.  See which grows faster.  Discuss why.  Do the same with water.  Water one plant correctly, and then over- and under-water others. What happens?  Why?  Put one colorful plant in a window.  Put the same plant in a place where it doesn’t get as much light.  What happens to the colors in the plant in these two situations?  Why?  Sprout various seeds and after several weeks of growth, take out the plants, clean off the dirt and do drawings of the root systems of each plant.  How are they the same?  How are they different?

The point that I wish to make here is:  Plan nature study where you are, not where you wish to be.

I have only mentioned a very few possibilities in this blog.  The opportunities for nature study even in an urban setting are many.  Here is what I would encourage for parents:

1.  Don’t assume that you need to know every thing about nature.

2.  Don’t assume that you have to have a great interest in nature yourself.

3.  Begin small so that you and the children enjoy the small steps that you take.

4.  Let the children’s natural curiosity and interests and yours help guide you.

5.  Keep it affordable.

6.  Look for opportunities that involve family and friends or an older adult.  (I am making the assumption here that anyone you are willing for your children to be around is safe and sound.)

7.  Join with another family.

8.  Involve other family members, when you can:  grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins.

9.  Keep it simple.  Begin with what you can manage, not only in terms of time, finances, and interests, but emotions as well.

10.  Don’t take the “take away” stance.  That is, if your children have spent their free time playing video games, don’t take that away and declare that the family will now do nature study.  Add nature study, slowly but steadily.  Their and your interests will grow.

11.  Nurture your children and yourself with nature.  We are all persons.

I hope the comments in this blog are helpful and encourage all of us, no matter where we live, to explore in our own situation, whatever or wherever it is, the nature that is available to us.  And, if nature isn’t available, to use pots, contains, bird feeders, seedlings, caged-animals or any other morally right way that we can find to learn about nature.  BUT, keep it simple, fun, and satisfying so that the next time you can go even deeper in your discovery of nature.

© 2013 Carroll Smith

My First Year at Willow Tree by Wendy Wilson

Trying to find the words that I want to say about the experiences of my first year at Willow Tree Community School is very hard because it requires me to express my emotions about my family, my students, and to reflect upon my past teaching experiences.

I must start at the beginning.

Four years ago, I was introduced to Charlotte Mason and ChildlightUSA through Dr. Jennifer Spencer. She was my mentor and co-worker during this time.  As I began to read Charlotte Mason’s books and to listen to speakers at the ChildlightUSA Charlotte Mason Conferences, I knew that I was not instructing my students in a way that was either best for them or respectful of their personhood.  The more I read Mason, the more I knew I had to make a change.

There were several factors that were causing increased anxiety for me.  My husband and I had been praying for a school for our children.  We wanted them to be in a place where they were accepted as persons and not for their abilities or for their test scores.  I have had experience teaching in both public and private schools.  As I read Charlotte Mason’s books and learned from the sessions I attended at the ChildlightUSA conferences, I felt a pull away from the teaching paradigm I was used to in both public and private schools.  I even felt at times that I should leave the teaching profession, if I couldn’t teach the way I felt I was learning through these experiences.  Then a wonderful opportunity presented itself.

The opportunity to teach alongside Dr. Jennifer Spencer at Willow Tree Community School opened in the summer of 2012.   My children and I left the familiar to enter the extraordinary. I have had the privilege and personal challenge to work with Forms 3 and 4 in most subjects, instruct science and architecture to all forms, teach Spanish to the first year students, and work with emergent readers.

I learned a new idea during this first year at Willow Tree.  It came from our reading of Ourselves in our Charlotte Mason Study Group.  Here it is:  “The Courage of Capacity-the courage which assures us that we can do the particular work which comes in our way, and will not lend an ear to the craven fear which reminds us of failures in the past and unfitness in the present. It is Intellectual Courage, too, which enables us to grapple with tasks of the mind with a sense of adequacy.”  This living idea has served me well this year and reminded me to keep moving forward with “Courage of Capacity.”

We have read so many wonderful living books in the last two terms and have had great conversations about these books. The concept of reading in little bits, talking about the selection, and then returning to the next short passage another day were all new concepts to me. Giving the students the opportunity to share their thoughts about what was read, heard, or studied opened my eyes to how much a teacher will talk and not listen. Don’t get me wrong, the children don’t run the show. But, they are equal partners in learning.

And, just as interesting as watching the children learn in this way is the connections they make to previous learning.  It is amazing to see how the students connect with what they have already read or learned in the past with the present text or event. They talk about these connections, the various points of view, and then they frequently come to conclusions on their own.

I feel like my past experiences were to beat the text to death in hopes that the students would be able to read it aloud and answer some simple questions, which we had already covered in previous days. In essence, feed baby student, burp baby student, and then baby student throws back up what the teacher thought was important.  This does not require students to labor with their minds, a major requirement in a Charlotte Mason education. I don’t want to ever go back to the former type of teaching again. It is so demeaning and stifling. I also feel that it is very disrespectful of the personhood of the child.

Giving exams at the end of the term instead of weekly tests and grades was a big change for me. Writing the examination questions was not hard, but the thought that the students will have to explain in writing what they remember for the whole term was overwhelming. The joy was reading their answers to their examination questions and seeing how much they remembered and how what they read, heard, and studied affected them.

Here are some quotes from my family and a friend that we feel are the signs that my husband and I had followed the direction of the Holy Spirit and made the right decision for our family by joining the Willow Tree Community School.

Our daughter, Abigail, said after the first term of school: “I want to do more Math. I get it.” This was an amazing answer to prayer for us! Abigail has struggled with math since kindergarten and has stated daily her hate for Math since second grade. Even with help from her parents, teachers, and outside tutoring, Math was never an easy subject for her. Today, I can say that she likes Math, is able to understand it, and is able to tell my husband and me how she knows her answer is correct and how she came to her answer.

Our son, Christian, said after the first term of school: “I like Willow Tree because I don’t get made fun of.  Our school has rules that we follow if we have problems with one another.  First you sit down and say what you feel happened.  The other person gets to say how they feel.  We each talk about what we did right and wrong. Together we come up with what we should have done. We ask each other for forgiveness for what we did wrong. Then we go on with our day, not bringing it up again.”

My husband, Chris, said after the first term of school: “Christian and Abigail enjoy school as evidenced by their daily success, recounting their joys in learning, and exploring different subjects.  Their love for reading has grown even more and they have no stress, worries, or frustrations about grades or tests every Friday or every nine weeks.  In previous years there was stress about homework, tests, and projects and other school-related events.  In addition to school requirements and church, family, and other activities there was no time for our children to play, discover, and explore.  At Willow Tree Community School our children are able to be themselves and use their gifting to learn.  Our children have played, explored, and learned at school and at home this year more than in all the previous years at other schools.  I look at The Willow Tree School website and see the pictures of our children and others with smiles on their faces as they explore and learn and I know this is what learning should be about.  There is a peace at our house since my wife and kids are at the Willow Tree.  Thank you Willow Tree that my wife and children are happy again.”

My son’s piano teacher, Pam, said after the second week of school, “Christian is like a different child. He can sit and play without complaining about school. He has really grown in his understanding of music theory, various pieces of music, and he is able to enjoy what he plays. I look forward to our time together each week.” This is a huge change for Christian.  He has had a bent for playing piano since he was in second grade. He spent the previous year using his piano instructor’s time to complain about school, homework, and about being tired. Last year his piano teacher was frustrated with him every week during their thirty minutes together, plus he didn’t want to practice daily.

As you can gather from this blog, our year at Willow Tree Community School has been a huge improvement over our past  school experiences.  What a privilege it is for me to go to work each day and for my children to go to school.

© Wendy Wilson 2013