Saturday, February 26, 2011
The swallows are back in town, soaring here and there and neighborhood birds are visibly perched singing a bold new beautiful tune while a female listens intently nearby. How can she not be impressed by that beautiful song!
And the minnows in our fish tank were acting rather frisky the other day and I had a hunch... yesterday I noticed one has a very big belly!
Rain and cold, it is still such a great time to be outdoors and see the world around us come alive.
Here are some pictures of what we found today. We took Daddy for his first visit to one of our favorite nature sanctuaries in the middle of urban Irvine.
We saw an abundance of fresh growth of Caterpillar Phacelia along the side of the trail...
Fuschia-flowered Gooseberry - my field guide says this is a hummingbird favorite.
There were many of these beautiful purple Vervain flowers just starting to bloom.
My son found this collection of animal bones. We haven't identified it yet, but judging from the size of it, we're thinking it was either a fox or a bobcat. Unfortunately, we couldn't find its skull.
And here's a beautiful Osprey...
Look at those beautiful clouds and the sunshine skimming across the lake.
Truthfully, with only 5 more weeks of pregnancy to go, I would have been perfectly content sitting on the couch with my feet up knitting all day instead of walking trails, but thankfully, we got out instead and I'm so glad we did!
And to top it all off, my husband surprised us with this beautiful chocolate goodness after dinner! You just never know what nature will inspire ;-)
Sunday, February 13, 2011
I thought it was just me, but a friend confirmed it when she was talking to me about the flowers at the Niguel Botanical Preserve, the birds singing, the caterpillars crawling...
it reminded me of one of my favorite blog posts about the awakening that happens in us when we turn our eyes to nature: http://childlightusa.wordpress.com/2008/07/25/a-dangerous-adventure-by-art-in-kenosha/
And this poem we read last year by James Whitcomb Riley (not that we know anything about snow thawing, but...)
When Early March Seems Middle May
When country roads begin to thaw
In mottled spots of damp and dust,'
And fences by the margin draw
Along the frosty crust
Their graphic silhouettes, I say,
The Spring is coming round this way.
When morning-time is bright with sun
And keen with wind, and both confuse
The dancing, glancing eyes of one
With tears that ooze and ooze
And nose-tips weep as well as they,
The Spring is coming round this way.
When suddenly some shadow-bird
Goes wavering beneath the gaze,
And through the hedge the moan is heard
Of kine that fain would graze
In grasses new, I smile and say,
The Spring is coming round this way.
When knotted horse-tails are untied,
And teamsters whistle here and there,
And clumsy mitts are laid aside,
And choppers' hands are bare,
And chips are thick where children play,
The Spring is coming round this way.
When through the twigs the farmer tramps,
And troughs are chunked beneath the trees,
And fragrant hints of s',gar-camps
Astray in every breeze,
And early March seems middle-May,
The Spring is coming round this way.
When coughs are changed to laughs, and when
Our frowns melt into smiles of glee,
And all our blood thaws out again
In streams of ecstasy,
And poets wreak their roundelay,
The Spring is coming round this way.
It won't be long now, Spring is coming round your way!!
There was a recent article in the Wall Street Journal by Amy Chua, author of Battle Hymn of the Tiger Mother entitled Why Chinese Mothers Are Superior: Can a regimen of no playdates, no TV, no computer games and hours of music practice create happy kids? And what happens when they fight back?
This article has stirred much thought amongst us CMers as to how far we ought to push our children.
Charlotte Mason herself says:
Education is not after all to either teacher or child the fine careless rapture we appear to have figured it. We who teach and they who learn are alike constrained; there is always effort to be made in certain directions... ~Vol. 6, p.99
So then, are some of us indeed being too 'soft' or 'loosey goosey' in our Charlotte Mason approach to educating our children?
Here is an article by Ambleside Schools in response to the Chinese Mother Article, which I think brings some clarity and perspective: http://blog.amblesideschools.com/2011/02/is-tough-parenting-answer.html
Here are a couple more quotes from CM:
Independent intellectual Development of Children.––We do not sufficiently recognise the independent intellectual development of children which it is our business to initiate and direct, but not to control or dominate. Vol. 3, p.122.
Plato's Educational Aim.––"He desired not to assist in storing the passive mind with the various sorts of knowledge most in request, as if the human soul were a mere repository or banqueting room, but to place it in such relations of circumstance as should gradually excite its vegetating and germinating powers to produce new fruits of thought, new conceptions and imaginations and ideas." ~Vol. 3, p.125
Following are 2 sections of readings; the first seems to lean towards CM making a case for more parental involvement. The latter, for more 'letting alone'. What conclusions can we draw from all of this?
(click here for Modern English version of this section - scroll down to section beginning with the title "Human Nature the Sum of certain Attributes" and start reading there. )
Human Nature the Sum of certain Attributes.––What, then, with the natural desires, affections, and emotions common to the whole race, what with the tendencies which each family derives by descent, and those peculiarities which the individual owes to his own constitution of body and brain,––human nature, the sum of all these, makes out for itself a strong case; so much so, that we are inclined to think the best that can be done is to let it alone, to let every child develop unhindered according to the elements of character and disposition that are in him.
The Child must not be left to his Human Nature.––This is precisely what half the parents in the world, and three-fourths of the teachers, are content to do; and what is the consequence? That the world is making advances, but the progress is, for the most part, amongst the few whose parents have taken their education seriously in hand; while the rest, who have been allowed to stay where they were, be no more, or no better than Nature made them, act as a heavy drag: for, indeed, the fact is, that they do not stay where they were; it is unchangeably true that the child who is not being constantly raised to a higher and a higher platform will sink to a lower and a lower. Wherefore, it is as much the parent's duty to educate his child into moral strength and purpose and intellectual activity as it is to feed him and clothe him; and that in spite of his nature, if it must be so. It is true that here and there circumstances step in and 'make a man' of the boy whose parents have failed to bring him under discipline; but this is a fortuitous aid which the educator is no way warranted to count upon.
I was beginning to see my way––not yet out of the psychological difficulty, which, so far as I was concerned, blocked the way to any real education; but now I could put my finger on the place, and that was something. Thus: -
The will of the child is pitifully feeble, weaker in the children of the weak, stronger in the children of the strong, but hardly ever to be counted upon as a power in education.
The nature of the child––his human nature––being the sum of what he is as a human being, and what he is in right of the stock he comes of, and what he is as the result of his own physical and mental constitution––this nature is incalculably strong.
Problem before the Educator.––The problem before the educator is to give the child control over his own nature, to enable him to hold himself in hand as much in regard to the traits we call good, as to those we call evil:––many a man makes shipwreck on the rock of what he grew up to think his characteristic virtue––his open-handedness, for instance.
Divine Grace works on the Lines of Human Effort.––In looking for a solution of this problem, I do not undervalue the Divine grace––far otherwise; but we do not always make enough of the fact that Divine grace is exerted on the lines of enlightened human effort; that the parent, for instance, who takes the trouble to understand what he is about in educating his child, deserves, and assuredly gets, support from above; and that Rebecca, let us say, had no right to bring up her son to be "thou worm, Jacob," in the trust that Divine grace would, speaking reverently, pull him through. Being a pious man, the son of pious parents, he was pulled through, but his days, he complains at the end, were "few and evil."
The Trust of Parents must not be Supine.–– And indeed this is what too many Christian parents expect: they let a child grow free as the wild bramble, putting forth unchecked whatever is in him––thorn, coarse flower, insipid fruit,––trusting, they will tell you, that the grace of God will prune and dig and prop the wayward branches lying prone. And their trust is not always misplaced; but the poor man endures anguish, is torn asunder in the process of recovery which his parents might have spared him had they trained the early shoots which should develop by-and-by into the character of their child.
Nature then, strong as she is, is not invincible; and, at her best, Nature is not to be permitted to ride rampant. Bit and bridle, hand and voice, will get the utmost of endeavour out of her if her training be taken in hand in time; but let Nature run wild, like the forest ponies, and not spur nor whip will break her in.
A Fussy and Restless Habit––It is by way of an effort towards this adjustment of power that I wish to bring before parents and teachers the subject of 'masterly inactivity.' We ought to do so much for our children, and are able to do so much for them, that we begin to think everything rests with us and that we should never intermit for a moment our conscious action on the young minds and hearts about us. Our endeavours become fussy and restless. We are too much with our children, 'late and soon.' We try to dominate them too much, even when we fail to govern, and we are unable to perceive that wise and purposeful letting alone is the best part of education. But this form of error arises from a defect of our qualities. We may take heart. We have the qualities, and all that is wanted is adjustment; to this we must give our time and attention.
'Masterly Inactivity.'––A blessed thing in our mental constitution is, that once we receive an idea, it will work itself out, in thought and act, without much after-effort on our part; and, if we admit the idea of 'masterly inactivity' as a factor in education, we shall find ourselves framing our dealings with children from this standpoint, without much conscious effort. But we must get clearly into our heads what we mean by masterly inactivity. Carlyle's happy phrase has nothing in common with the laisser allez attitude that comes of thinking 'what's the good?' and still further is it removed from the sheer indolence of mind that lets things go their way rather than take the trouble to lead them to any issue. It indicates a fine healthy moral pose which it is worth while for us to analyse. Perhaps the idea is nearly that conveyed in Wordsworth's even more happy phrase, 'wise passiveness'. It indicates the power to act, the desire to act, and the insight and self-restraint which forbid action. But there is, from our point of view at any rate, a further idea conveyed in 'masterly inactivity.' The mastery is not over ourselves only; there is also a sense of authority, which our children should be as much aware of when it is inactive as when they are doing our bidding. The sense of authority is the sine quâ non of the parental relationship, and I am not sure that without that our activities or our inactivity will produce any great results. This element of strength is the backbone of our position. 'We could an' if we would' and the children know it––They are free under authority, which is liberty; to be free without authority is license.
The Element of Good Humour.––The next element in the attitude of masterly inactivity is good humour––frank, cordial, natural, good humour. This is quite a different thing from overmuch complacency, and a general giving-in to all the children's whims. The one is the outcome of strength, the other of weakness, and children are very quick to see the difference. 'Oh, mother, may we go blackberrying this afternoon, instead of lessons?' The masterly and the abject 'yes' are quite different notes. The first makes the holiday doubly a delight; the second produces a restless desire to gain some other easy victory.
Self-confidence.––The next element is confidence. Parents should trust themselves more. Everything is not done by restless endeavour. The mere blessed fact of the parental relationship and of that authority which belongs to it, by right and by nature, acts upon the children as do sunshine and shower on a seed in good soil. But the fussy parent, the anxious parent, the parent who explains overmuch, who commands overmuch, who excuses overmuch, who restrains overmuch, who interferes overmuch, even the parent who is with the children overmuch, does away with dignity and simplicity of that relationship which, like all the best and most delicate things in life, suffer by being asserted or defended.
The fine, easy way of Fathers.––Fathers are, sometimes, more happy than mothers in assuming that fine easy way with their children which belongs of right to their relationship, but this is only because the father is occupied with many things, and the mother is apt to be too much engrossed with her children. It is a little humiliating to the best of us to see a careless, rather a selfish mother, whose children are her born slaves and run to do her bidding with delight. The moral is, not that all mothers should be careless and selfish, but that they should give their children the ease of a good deal of letting alone, and should not oppress the young people with their own anxious care. The small person of ten who wishes to know if her attainments are up to the average for her age, or he who discusses his bad habits with you and the best way of curing them, is displeasing, because one feels instinctively that the child is occupied with cares which belong to the parent only. The burden of their children's training must be borne by the parents alone. But let them bear it with easy grace and an erect carriage, as the Spanish peasant bears her water-jar.
Confidence in the Children––Not only confidence in themselves, but confidence in their children, is an element of the masterly inactivity, which I venture to propose to parents as a 'blue teapot' for them 'to live up to'. Believe in the relation of parent and child, and trust the children to believe in it and fulfil it on their part. They will do so if they are not worried.
Omniscience of Parents and Teachers.––Parents and teachers must, of course, be omniscient; their children expect this of them, and a mother or father who can be hoodwinked is a person easy to reckon with in the mind of even the best child. For children are always playing a game––half of chance, half of skill; they are trying how far they can go, how much of the management of their own lives they can get for the taking, and how much they must leave in the hands of the stronger powers. Therefore the mother who is not up to children is at their mercy, and need expect no quarter. But she must see without watching, know without telling, be on the alert always, yet never obviously, fussily, so. This open-eyed attitude must be sphinx-like in its repose. The children must know themselves to be let alone, whether to do their own duty or to seek their own pleasure. The constraining power should be present, but passive, so that the child may not feel himself hemmed in without choice. That free-will of man, which has for ages exercised faithful souls who would prefer to be compelled into all righteousness and obedience, is after all a pattern for parents. The child who is good because he must be so, loses in power of initiative more than he gains in seemly behaviour. Every time a child feels that he chooses to obey of his own accord, his power of initiative is strengthened. The bearing-rein may not be used. When it occurs to a child to reflect on his behaviour, he should have that sense of liberty which makes good behaviour appear to him a matter of his preference and choice.
'Fate' and 'Freewill'––This is the freedom which a child enjoys who has the confidence of his parents as to his comings and goings and childish doings, and who is all the time aware of their authority. He is brought up in the school proper for a being whose life is conditioned by 'fate' and 'freewill.' He has liberty, that is, with a sense of must behind it to relieve him of that unrest which comes with the constant effort of decision. He is free to do as he ought, but knows quite well in his secret heart that he is not free to do that which he ought not. The child who, on the contrary, grows up with no strong sense of authority behind all his actions, but who receives many exhortations to be good and obedient and what not, is aware that he may choose either good or evil, he may obey or not obey, he may tell the truth or tell a lie; and, even when he chooses aright, he does so at the cost of a great deal of nervous wear and tear. His parents have removed from him the support of their authority in the difficult choice of right-doing, and he is left alone to make that most trying of all efforts, the effort of decision. Is the distinction between being free to choose the right at one's own option, and not free to do the wrong, too subtle to be grasped, too elusive to be practical? It may be so, but it is precisely the distinction which we are aware of in our own lives so far as we keep ourselves consciously under the divine governance. We are free to go in the ways of right living, and have the happy sense of liberty of choice, but the ways of transgressors are hard. We are aware of a restraining hand in the present, and of sure and certain retribution in the future. Just this delicate poise is to be aimed at for the child. He must be treated with full confidence, and must feel that right-doing is his own free choice, which his parents trust him to make; but he must also be very well aware of the deterrent force in the background, watchful to hinder him when he would do wrong.
The Component Parts of Masterly Inactivity.––We have seen that authority, good humour, confidence, both self-confidence and confidence in the children, are all contained in masterly inactivity, but these are not all the parts of that whole. A sound mind in a sound body is another factor. If the sound body is unattainable, anyway, get the sound mind. Let not the nervous, anxious, worried mother think this easy, happy relation with her children is for her. She may be the best mother in the world, but the thing that her children will get from her in these moods is a touch of her nervousness––most catching of complaints. She will find them fractious, rebellious, unmanageable, and will be slow to realise that it is her fault; not the fault of her act but of her state.
Serenity of a Madonna.––It is not for nothing that the old painters, however diverse their ideas in other matters, all fixed upon one quality as proper to the pattern Mother. The Madonna, no matter out of whose canvas she looks at you, is always serene. This is a great truth, and we should do well to hang our walls with the Madonnas of all the early Masters if the lesson, taught through the eye, would reach with calming influence to the heart. Is this a hard saying for mothers in these anxious and troubled days? It may be hard, but it is not unsympathetic. If mothers could learn to do for themselves what they do for their children when these are overdone, we should have happier households. Let the mother go out to play! If she would only have courage to let everything go when life becomes too tense, and just take a day, or half a day, out in the fields, or with a favourite book, or in a picture gallery looking long and well at just two or three pictures, or in bed, without the children, life would go on far more happily for both children and parents. The mother would be able to hold herself in 'wise passiveness,' and would not fret her children by continual interference, even of hand or eye––she would let them be.
Leisure.––Another element is leisure. Sometimes events hurry us, and sometimes––is it not true?––we like the little excitement of a rush. The children like it, too, at first––Father's birthday is coming, and Nellie must recite a poem for him; the little fête has only been thought of a week in advance, and Nellie is seized at all sorts of odd moments to have some lines of the recitation crammed into her. At first she is pleased and important, and goes joyously to the task; but by-and-by it irks her; she is cross and naughty, is reproached for want of love for father, sheds tears over her verses, and, though finally the little performance may be got through very well, Nellie has suffered physically and morally in doing what, if it had been thought of a month beforehand, would have been altogether wholesome and delightful. Still worse for the children is it when mother or teacher has a 'busy' day. Friends are coming, or the family wardrobe for the summer must be seen to, or drawers and cupboards must be turned out, or an examination is at hand. Anyway, it is one of those fussy, busy days which we women rather delight in. We do more than we can ourselves, our nerves are 'on end,' what with the fatigue and what with the little excitement, and everybody in the house or the school is uncomfortable. Again, the children take advantage, so we say; the real fact being that they have caught their mother's mood and are fretful and tiresome. Nerve storms in the nursery are the probable result of the mother's little ebullition of nervous energy.
Leisure for themselves and a sense of leisure in those about them is as necessary to children's well being, as it is to the strong and benign parental attitude of which I am speaking.
Faith.––Other ingredients go to the making of the delectable compound we call 'masterly inactivity,' but space will allow me to speak of only one more. That highest form of confidence, known to us as faith, is necessary to full repose of mind and manner. When we recognise that God does not make over the bringing up of children absolutely even to their parents, but that He works Himself, in ways which it must be our care not to hinder, in the training of every child, then we shall learn passiveness, humble and wise. We shall give children space to develop on the lines of their own characters in all right ways, and shall know how to intervene effectually to prevent those errors which, also, are proper to their individual characters.
Let us next consider a few of the various phases of children's lives in which parents and teachers would do well to preserve an attitude of 'masterly inactivity.'
And lastly, here is an additional snippet from CM regarding some intellectual habits recommended that we carefully train in our children:
Some Intellectual Habits.––I need not refer again to the genesis of a habit; but perhaps most of us set ourselves more definitely to form physical and moral than we do to form intellectual habit. I will only mention a few such, which should be matters of careful training during the period of childhood:––Attention, the power of turning the whole force of the mind upon the subject brought before it: Concentration, which differs from attention in that the mind is actively engaged on some given problem rather than passively receptive: Thoroughness, the habit of dissatisfaction with a slipshod, imperfect grasp of a subject, and of mental uneasiness until a satisfying measure of knowledge is obtained;––this habit is greatly encouraged by a reference to an encyclopædia, to clear up any doubtful point, when it turns up: Intellectual Volition, the power, that is, of making ourselves think of a given subject at a given time;––most of us know how trying our refractory minds are in this matter, but, if the child is accustomed to take pleasure in the effort as effort, the man will find it easy to make himself think of what he will: Accuracy, which is to be taught, not only through arithmetic, but through all the small statements, messages, and affairs of daily life: Reflection, the ruminating power which is so strongly developed in children and is somehow lost with much besides of the precious cargo they bring with them into the world. There is nothing sadder than the way we allow intellectual impressions to pass over the surface of our minds, without any effort to retain or assimilate.
We also had a dead rat, discovered by its lovely stench, that had been festering in the wall behind our downstairs bathroom removed this week. A lovely complement to the smell of throw up upstairs, and to top it all off, my sewing machine broke.
Don't we all have times like these?
I could add so many other things to the list of wrongs - things that, were I to indulgently contemplate them fully, could really, REALLY get to me.
And while at times I do go down that ugly road, Charlotte's words from our topic of Joy ring true, and are worth repeating here:
'But how can I help it?' That is really a foolish question about any of the evils we may fall into. Of course we can help them, and to do so is the battle of life. In this particular case the help lies in hurrying away from the thought to think of something else.
There is another class of persons in whom Pity is strong and ever-active ... These are the people who pity themselves. Any cause of pity is sufficient and all-absorbing.
They are sorry for themselves because [insert your list of problems here] or some other form of 'Bo to a goose!'
Such things are not to be borne, and the self-pitiful creature goes about all day with sullen countenance. As he or she grows older you hear of many injuries from friends, much neglect, much want of love, and, above all, want of comprehension, because the person who pities himself is never 'understood' by others.
Self-pity, is an insidious foe. Many people, apparently strong and good, have been induced by him to give up their whole lives to brooding over some real or fancied injury. No tenant of the heart has alienated more friends or done more to banish the joys of life.
It's a choice; my choice where I will allow my mind to dwell.
Naturally, I want to dwell in the frustration of the moment and feel sorry for myself - throw up all over the carpet, the bed, in her hair, her ear - ugh!!! Rotting rat stench - uck!!
Remember that story about John Huss we read in Trial & Triumph? Called a heretic and thrown into a putrid dungeon cell next to an open sewer, headaches, vomiting fits, deprived of his books and Bible, ill and nearly starved, chained day and night, facing execution. He said...
Remember Christ suffered for the sake of his chosen. If my death can glorify His name, than may He give me grace to endure with good courage whatever evil may befall me.
My Lord Jesus wore a crown of thorns for me. Why should I not be willing, for His sake, to wear this?
Self-pity cured; for the moment anyway. And so it goes... helping ourselves from any of the evils we may fall into - it is 'the battle of life'. Is it not this same battle we are equipping our children for?
Monday, February 7, 2011
All the measuring, marking, figuring out the best use of space on the fabric, etc. ended up being good math lessons. And her little sister pretend played with the ruler and her piece of paper along-side her and cut her pieces as well :)
This was the first time I let her use the sewing machine all by herself. I taught her the basics of threading the bobbin, threading the needle, back stitch, etc. The video tutorial for the project suggested ironing each piece before sewing it, which ended up being a really useful guide to sew along. I also sat beside her to guide her when she started sewing off track or ended up with an unwanted crease.
And there she is with her new bag, happy as can be!
I'm thinking I could use a bag like that myself!
Here's the video tutorial for this bag: http://www.thediydish.com/2010/10/episode-5-how-to-make-the-diy-dish-basic-handbag/
We did shorten the strap for her. I suggested making the bag itself smaller, but she wanted a big bag so we left it as is.
I added two of these flower appliques and my daughter did the last one with my help.
Of course my 3yo wanted a bag too so I made this one with left over fabric. It's loosely based on this free pattern: http://thinkliz.com/2009/02/20/diana-hobo-free-pattern/
The flower appliques are so adorable and easy to make you can make them with pieces of left over scrap fabric and add them to anything...
like this cute little onesie for an upcoming baby shower.
Now what to do with my son....??? Do any of you have any good handcraft ideas for boys? I'm thinking of helping him make a kite, I found a tutorial here: http://www.stormthecastle.com/how-to-make-a/kite/make-a-traditional-kite.htm
...and maybe some gardening. We don't have a garden plot so I thought I'd get some pots and dirt and maybe have him plant some fruit seeds or whatever we happen to come across. Maybe avocado? pomegranate? I have no idea if those things would grow here, but I guess finding things out as we go is part of the fun of handcrafts. We'll keep you posted!
Wednesday, February 2, 2011
No one waxes a rented car
The speaker was making a point about the difference between employee mentality and business owner mentality; that, generally speaking, people care more for something, in this case a business, when they are the ones who own it.
What about in Education? Do you think the same principle applies?
In Vol. 6, Chapter 7 Charlotte Mason talks about Herbartian Education. While I don't know anything about it myself, reading CM's notes it sounds very much like what we find in Unit Studies today (Konos, lapbooks, etc.).
She goes through an example of "A Robinson Crusoe Concentration Scheme," a series of lessons given to children in Elementary School.
First we have nine lessons in literature and language, the subjects being such as 'Robinson climbs a hill and finds he is on an island.' Then, ten object lessons of which the first is,––The Sea, the second, A Ship from Foreign Parts, the sixth, A Life-Boat, the seventh, Shell-Fish, the tenth, A Cave. ... The third series are drawing lessons, probably as many, a boat, a ship, an oar, an anchor and so on. Then follows a series on manual training, still built upon 'Robinson'; the first, a model of the seashore; then models of Robinson's island, of Robinson's house, and Robinson's pottery. The next course consists of reading, an infinite number of lessons,––'passages from The Child's Robinson Crusoe and from a general reader on the matters discussed in object lessons.' Then follows a series of writing lessons, "simple compositions on the subject of the lessons. ... the children framed the sentences which the teacher wrote on the blackboard and the class copied afterwards." Here is one composition,––"Robinson spent his first night in a tree. In the morning he was hungry but he saw nothing round him but grass and trees without fruit. On the sea-shore he found some shell-fish which he ate." ... Arithmetic follows with, no doubt, as many lessons, many mental examples and simple problems dealt with Robinson"; the eighth and last course was in singing and recitation,––'I am monarch of all I survey,' etc. "The lessons lasted about forty-five minutes each.
It seems like a great idea. There is so much that can be built upon any one of our books that we read. And why not?
Here is CM's view:
The whole thing must be highly amusing to the teacher, as ingenious amplifications self-produced always are: that the children too were entertained, one does not doubt. .. but of one thing we may be sure, an utter distaste, a loathing, on the part of the children ever after, not only for 'Robinson Crusoe' but for every one of the subjects lugged in to illustrate his adventures.
The conscientious, ingenious and laborious teachers who produce these 'concentration series' are little aware that each such lesson is an act of lese majesté. ... every approach to knowledge suggests avenues for boredom, and the children's minds sicken and perish long before their school-days come to an end.
That children like feeble and tedious oral lessons, feeble and tedious story books, does not at all prove that these are wholesome food; they like lollipops but cannot live upon them; yet there is a serious attempt in certain schools to supply the intellectual, moral, and religious needs of children by appropriate 'sweetmeats.'
As I have said elsewhere, the ideas required for the sustenance of children are to be found mainly in books of literary quality; given these the mind does for itself the sorting, arranging, selecting, rejecting, classifying...
In my afternoon's reading I came upon another very apposite remark in the letters of John Stuart Mill. Let me read it to you:
"What the poor, as well as the rich, require is not to be taught other people's opinions, but to be induced and enabled to think for themselves..."
Our chief concern for the mind or for the body is to supply a well-ordered table with abundant, appetising, nourishing and very varied food, which children deal with in their own way and for themselves.
Speaking about an 11 year old girl who had vividly told her mother about all the things she saw in a museum, CM writes...
and of the effort involved in teaching and learning...
Education is not after all to either teacher or child the fine careless rapture we appear to have figured it. We who teach and they who learn are alike constrained; there is always effort to be made in certain directions; yet we face our tasks from a new point of view. We need not labour to get children to learn their lessons; that, if we would believe it, is a matter which nature takes care of. Let the lessons be of the right sort and children will learn them with delight. ... As we have already urged, there is but one right way, that is, children must do the work for themselves. They must read the given pages and tell what they have read, they must perform, that is, what we may call the 'act of knowing'.
And there it is - the children must own the knowledge, it must be theirs, they must be the ones who perform the act of knowing. And when lessons are so contrived, so predigested and so prepared with all the connections already made, who is really the one doing all the work?
How we balance this to ensure that they are the ones performing the act of knowing, while also being involved enough to ensure rigor and right direction is the topic of our local meeting this month, which I am very much looking forward to. I hope to post some of what we glean from our discussion here later this month.
In the meantime, Ambleside Online continues to provide subtle opportunities for my children to own their knowledge and experience excitement in their ability to make connections themselves.
The hymn we learned in January was O God, Our Help in Ages Past, which Isaac Watts wrote as a paraphrase of Psalm 90.
Thy Word commands our flesh to dust,
“Return, ye sons of men:”
At the same time, in reading Chapter X of Children of the New Forest, Jacob Armitage, a sort of father figure to four children, dies and leaves them with the task of placing him in the grave and saying a few words over him. In trying to find a proper portion of the Bible to read, the children recall Psalm 90 "that the days of man are threescore years and ten."
A connection my daughter was perfectly capable of making herself.
We also read in Our Island Story, Chapter 78 how Charles I was Brought to his Death, which is the history set as the backdrop for the story Children of the New Forest.
Admittedly, my daughter did confuse the story a bit thinking that in Children of the New Forest they burned the King's house - which they didn't, they burned the children's house and beheaded the King as they did in real life, so I did clarify that.
But what I love is that she is thinking on these connections. She is pondering, comparing and bringing up the topic to point out her perceived discrepancies without my pointing it out for her.
It is a matter of respecting the child as a person and not undermining what they are capable of; something that I am continually in the process of learning and re-learning.
In Charlotte Mason's 20 principles, I believe point 11 and 12 touch on this very idea:
11. But we, believing that the normal child has powers of mind which fit him to deal with all knowledge proper to him, give him a full and generous curriculum; taking care only that all knowledge offered him is vital, that is, that facts are not presented without their informing ideas. Out of this conception comes our principle that,––
12. "Education is the Science of Relations"; that is, that a child has natural relations with a vast number of things and thoughts: so we train him upon physical exercises, nature lore, handicrafts, science and art, and upon many living books, for we know that our business is not to teach him all about anything, but to help him to make valid as many as may be of––
"Those first-born affinities
"That fit our new existence to existing things."