that virtue and goodness are desirable to children at a certain
stage of their development chiefly, if not solely, because they
bring material or social benefits. Virtue is rewarded not by any
internal or spiritual satisfaction, but by freer access to the candy
supply or to the skating pond. The right is that which is allowable,
or that which may be practiced with impunity. The wrong is that
which is forbidden or punishable. Of course, this attitude toward
moral values should not continue through life. We should do what we
can to establish higher ideals of right and wrong. How soon this
change will come must depend very largely on where the emphasis is
laid by those around the child. If, when you give Robert a piece of
candy, you always impress him with the idea that this is his
compensation for having been "good," he will retain this association
between virtue and material reward long past the age when he can
already appreciate the satisfaction that comes from exercising his
instinct to be helpful, or from doing what he thinks is right. If,
however, the idea in the home is that all goes well and all feel
cheerful and happy because every one is trying to do the right
thing, the various indulgences and liberties will mean to the child
merely the material manifestations of the good feeling that
prevails, and not rewards of virtue. So far as possible, rewards and
punishments should be directed toward the _deed_ and not the
child. The aim should be to make the child derive his highest
satisfaction from carrying out his own ideals of conduct, rather
than from the reward for that conduct. The approbation of those he
honors and loves should gradually replace the material reward.
To the child the ideal of success may mean two entirely different
things. At one stage it may mean the satisfaction of accomplishing a
set task, whether selected by himself or imposed by some one else.
Later, it comes to mean excelling some other child in a contest.
Even a child of four or five years gets a great deal of satisfaction
from contemplating a house he has built out of his blocks, or the
row of mud pies. This satisfaction gradually comes to be something
quite distinct from the pleasure of _doing_, and is an important
element in the ideal of workmanship. As the child grows older the
ideal of successful accomplishment grows stronger, and, if it is
retained throughout life, it contributes a large share toward the
individual's happiness.
Most of the school activities of our children lay too much emphasis
upon the ideal of successful rivalry, and too little upon the ideal of
high achievement. The ideal set before the children is not frequently
enough that of doing the best that is in them, and too frequently that
of doing merely better than the neighbor--which may be poor enough.
Some of the work done with children in clubs, outside of schools, has
brought out the instinct for an ideal of achievement in a very good
way. Richard came home quite breathless when he was able to report
that he could start a fire on a windy day, using but a single match!
In some of the more modern organizations, for girls as well as for
boys, graded tasks are assigned as tests of individual proficiency or
prowess. Every girl and every boy must pass these standards, without
regard to what the others do. The result of encouraging this ideal is
likely to be an increased sense of responsibility, well as an
increased self-respect; whereas the ideal of "beating" others may in
many cases keep the girl or boy at a rather low level of achievement,
compared to the child's own capacity.
This competitive ideal is illustrated by the girl who is ambitious
to stand at the head of her class, and receives encouragement
enough. But we give very little thought to the child whose ideals
are for service to others or to the community. It is very often the
same child that at one time glories in successful emulation under
the encouragement of our approval, and that later fails to develop
the germs of altruistic ideals because we fail to recognize, or at
least to encourage, them. We cannot expect from the schools an early
change of emphasis from the competitive type of ambition to the
ideal of cooperation or service, although the teachers who have
tried to encourage the latter have found the school work to proceed
more satisfactorily than it does under the spirit of emulation. But
in the home it should be much easier to encourage these higher types
of ideals, for we do not have to set one child against the other,
and there is greater opportunity for individual service on account
of the greater differences in the ages and attainments of the
children.
It is interesting and significant that, of the thousands of children
who have given expression to their ideals and ambitions, a very
small number--less than one in every hundred--have appeared to be
quite content with themselves and with their surroundings. The
normal child craves for some thing better, and roams as far afield
as his knowledge and opportunities let him in his search for the
best. It is during the years from the tenth to the fifteenth or
sixteenth that this search is keenest, and during this period we
should present to the children every opportunity for becoming
acquainted with what has been considered best in the history of the
race. The reading that the boy or girl does at this time is perhaps
the most important source of ideals.
The selection of suitable books for the young is in itself an important
problem, and one that many of us are apt to neglect. It is impossible to
judge of the desirability or suitableness of a book from its appearance,
or from its price, or from the standing of its publishers, or even from
the repute of the author. Many attractive-looking books are not only
worthless, but positively objectionable. If it is not possible for you
to examine carefully each book that you consider buying, you should make
use of an annotated list, or seek competent counsel in some other form.
Through libraries and various associations it is now possible to obtain
carefully prepared lists that will be helpful in selecting books for
children of all ages.
An interesting point that has been brought out by studies is the
fact that degrading ideals are practically wanting in children. You
were no doubt shocked to discover that Eddy was planning to become a
burglar, or a pirate chief, or a tramp, or an ordinary highwayman.
But a careful analysis of the motives and experiences of the boy
will show that the particular feature that Eddy admires in his hero
is far removed from the ones that shock you. The boy is dreaming of
travel and adventure, of the excitement of chasing or of being
chased, of trying his ingenuity in conflict with the professionally
ingenious minions of the law, of being brave in the face of danger,
of testing his fortitude in the time of trouble, of the loyalty of
his comrades to himself as leader, or of his loyalty to his chief
when the latter is beset by his enemies. But courage and loyalty and
fortitude and ingenuity are no more degrading ideals than are
material possessions and intellectual accomplishments. Only it
happens that many boys find these particular ideals embodied in
heroes and personalities that we feel we must disapprove for various
reasons. Robin Hood appeals to the children not because he violated
the laws of the land or because he deprived people of their
property, but because he was brave, and clever, and just, and kind
to the poor.
In comparing the ideals of children raised in the city with those of
children raised in the country, interesting differences appear. The
city children are in general less inclined to be altruistic than
country children at the same age. On the other hand, city children
draw upon a wider range of characters from history and from fiction
for their ideals. In the matter of future occupations, city children
were often satisfied to mention some preference from the various
occupations of which they had heard, without elaborating the
details, whereas the country children, although they did not select
from so wide a range, frequently described special features of some
occupation as the interesting elements leading to a choice.
From the various studies that have been made we may see that the kind
of ideals that a child is likely to have depends a great deal upon the
_people_ with whom he becomes familiar, upon the _ideas_ with which he
becomes familiar, and upon the _activities_ with which he becomes
familiar. The child should have an opportunity to discover the best
that is available in his immediate environment. His earliest heroes
should be his parents; then the acquaintances near home should furnish
the qualities that will arouse his interest and admiration. It is a
mistake to thrust upon the child ideals ready made and imported for
the purpose. A hero thrust upon the young imagination may do service
for a while, but is likely to be discarded later when that particular
hero's virtues really need to be kept before the child much more than
they did in the earlier period. George Washington and his hatchet have
furnished us a legend that is a good illustration of this. The hero is
dressed up to be attractive to children of nursery age, and endowed
with nursery virtues. When the children grow up and so outgrow their
nursery ideals, they discard interest in and admiration for George
Washington: this is a serious loss to our national idealism.
The results of the studies also indicate how significant is suitable
literature in the formation of ideals. A comparison of returns from
girls with those from boys throws an important side light on this
problem. In nearly every group of answers received it was evident
that most girls, when they get to a certain age, adopt ideals that
are decidedly masculine. The explanation of this seems to lie in the
fact that the characters of history and of literature with whom they
become most familiar are those showing distinctly masculine
qualities. There are real differences between the mind of a girl and
the mind of a boy, and these should be taken into consideration in
their training. There is great need for the clearer recognition and
sharper definition of distinctly feminine ideals. It is not enough
to transfer some imitation masculine ideals to the minds of our
girls.
We should make a special effort to discover our children's ideals,
for several reasons. First of all, by knowing what the girl or boy
has nearest the heart we shall be able to enter into closer sympathy
with the child, we shall be able to understand much of the conduct
that would otherwise baffle as well as annoy us. In the second
place, by watching the rise of ideals we shall be better able to
direct the child's playing and his reading and those other
activities that are needed to supply the experiences and ideas that
seem to be lacking, or to discourage tendencies that seem to us
undesirable. In the third place, if we know our children's ideals we
can make use of these as motive forces in helping us to carry out
our larger plans. It is when the boy is in the military stage of his
ambitions that we should try to make the virtues of the soldier
habitual parts of his character. It is when the girl is ambitious to
make a fine garden that we should try to make her fix the habits of
orderliness, regularity, and attention to details. Of course, not
every girl will want to have a garden, and many a boy never cares to
be a soldier; but at every stage there are ideals that can be called
upon to fix the heart upon certain virtues until the latter become
habits.
It is very easy to ridicule the ideals and ambitions of children when
they seem to us too high-flown or futile. But a person's ideals stand
too close to the centre of his character to be treated so rudely. It
is better to ignore the many trifling flights of fancy that are not
likely to have any permanent effect, and to throw the child into
circumstances that will force the emergence of more deep-seated or
far-reaching ambitions.
There is another danger in the ease with which a child's faith in
ideals is destroyed, when these happen to interfere with our own
immediate comfort and desires. When a boy has gotten into some
mischief with his friends, and is the only one caught, we are
tempted to bring pressure to bear upon him to make him tell who the
other culprits were. Joe is ready to take his own punishment, and
that of his fellow malefactors, too, rather than "snitch." But for
some reason we feel that "justice" demands the conviction of every
individual involved. The conflict is not between our sense of
justice and the boy's stubbornness or wilfulness; it is rather a
struggle between our demand for retribution and the boy's ideal of
loyalty. If, through threats and cajolery or more indirect methods,
we at last succeed in finding out that it was Mrs. Brown's Bob who
was responsible for the whole affair, we have at last broken down
Joe's inclination to act according to certain ideal standards. Joe
has fallen in his own estimation beyond calculation. It is better to
let Bob go "unpunished" than to make Joe go back on his principles.
One important outcome of a study of our children's ideals and
ambitions should be the direction of their vocational choices. We
have read of Benjamin Franklin's father, who took his boys about to
various shops with a view to helping them make up their minds as to
what kind of trade they should follow. Nowadays we should consider
this method rather crude; but for a variety of reasons most of us do
not do even this much for our children. A study of children's plans
and hopes for their future work brings out the fact that the desire
to "earn money" as a motive in the choice increases up to the age of
twelve years, and then declines rapidly. This may be taken to mean
that, apart from the enlarged range of interests that comes with
increased experience, there is also an efflorescence of the fancy
that leads to increased concern with ideal ends. This is confirmed
by a comparison of the choice made by children of well-to-do
families with those made by children of rather poor people. The
children of the poor, in tragically large numbers, appear to accept
the fact of working as a necessity of life; they accept this
doggedly as a matter of course. The children of more prosperous
families, on the other hand, though frequently expressing
preferences for the same kinds of occupations, have their hearts set
on the joy of achievement, or on the ideal of service, or on the fun
of _doing_, in much larger proportions.
From answers written by English children in a factory district these
examples are typical:
A boy of eight: "I should like to be a Carpenter. Because my mother
says I can be one."
A girl of twelve: "I should like to go out when I am older to earn
my own living."
Another girl of twelve: "I think it would be nice to go out to a
situation."
In contrast with these are the answers given by children of the same
ages who came from homes of culture, if not always of wealth:
A boy of eight: "I would like to be like Major ---- because I like
carpentering very much and he carpenters beautifully. Once he bought
a box for his silver and there was one tray to it and he wanted to
make little fittings for the silver so first he painted some names
on some paper of all the different things he had; then he cut them
out and supposing he wanted to put knives and forks quickly he would
have a little name written down where they ought to go and he made
the fittings most beautifully quite as well as any shop would."
A girl of thirteen: "One thing I should like to do would be to be a
very clever naturalist, and to know everything about everything
alive or in the country world."
A girl of ten: "I should like to be a piano teacher, when I grow up,
for then I shall be able to learn to play many pieces of poetry."
A part of this difference is no doubt due to the fact that in many
families there are traditional ideals of the obligations of
privilege, which the children readily imitate; or to the fact that
these children do not have to think about the necessity of earning a
livelihood, and so give their attention to the enjoyments that can
be derived from various kinds of activity.
The subject of vocational guidance, which has come into great
prominence during the past few years, includes so many ideas that
are confusing and misleading that large numbers of people have
become alarmed and are fighting the movement. In the first place,
the title itself is misleading. Most people do not enter upon
"callings" in the true sense of that word; they get into some kind
of occupation or business, but could just as readily have adjusted
themselves to any one of a thousand other occupations. Then the
matter of _guidance_ is misleading. It is impossible for anyone
to-day to undertake to guide young people into their occupations.
All that can be hoped for is that children may be given an
opportunity to find out about the different types of work that need
to be done, and about the different human qualities that are of
value in the various occupations.
The question that concerns the parent is: What special inclinations
has the child that can be utilized in a future occupation? It is not
so much a question of making full use of your child's talents as it
is of giving him an opportunity to do the kind of work in which he
will be most happy. Society at large is interested in conserving all
the different kinds of ability, but the individual child is
concerned with realizing his own ideals, with living, so far as
possible, his own life. At the same time, the evidence which we have
on the subject--not very much, to be sure--shows that there is
really a close connection between what a child likes to do and what
he can do well. It is, of course, true that one can learn to do well
what at first comes hard, and then learn to like it. But we must not
forget that strong inclinations must be carefully considered when
future work is being decided upon.
Our children are so imitative that a child with marked talents will
occasionally not reveal these in surroundings that lay emphasis on
qualities unrelated to these talents. So many a boy with high-grade
musical ability will fail to show this where music is looked down
upon as something unworthy of a man. In the same way children will
develop ideals in imitation of what goes on around them. Every child
is likely at some time in his career to look forward to money-making
as the most desirable end in life; but most normal children will
pass beyond this ideal before adolescence. If, however, the
atmosphere in which the child lives is one of money-getting, the
child without strong tendencies toward other ideals is likely to
allow this ideal to persist into adolescence and young manhood or
womanhood. In such cases the ideal becomes fixed without indicating
that the individual is "by nature" of an avaricious temperament or
materialistically inclined.
The same principle of imitativeness would, of course, apply to other
ideals. This explains to us why the recurrence of certain ideals or
modes of life in successive generations of a family leads to the
supposition that there are "hereditary" elements at work. It is also
a good reason why we should guard against the contaminating
influence of unworthy ideals. It is impossible for us to carry about
imitation virtues and fool our children into imitating them.
Children begin to form their ideals early in life, and their first
standards are derived from the people and the things about them that
contribute to their pleasures--sweets and parents and the heroes of
the fairy tales.
As the child's experience broadens he borrows ideals from new
acquaintances and the characters he meets in his reading.
The child absorbs from his surroundings, from his acquaintances, and
from his reading, as well as from the instruction that he receives
in school or in church, materials for building a world of what
_ought_ to be. And in this world he himself plays a very
important rôle. We must therefore make sure that the materials for
ideals which are within our control shall be of the best.
Loose conversation, cynicism, open disrespect for the noble things
in human character, lack of faith in human nature cannot be
exhibited to the child day after day without having their sinister
effect. It is true that some children, here and there, will resist
these unfavorable influences, and will come out of the struggle
strong and self-reliant, with faith in their own ideals and with
faith in mankind. But we cannot afford to treat the developing
character of the child on the theory that it needs exercise and
temptation as a gymnast needs exercise and trying tasks. The
temptation that becomes a habitual stimulus to wrong doing or wrong
thinking has no moral value. The child is only too ready to follow
the path of least resistance, and the temptations will come aplenty
after the ideals begin to form.
High ideals in the home, and not merely good words; loyalty to
ideals and a spirit of confidence in the children, are needed to
give the children that confidence in themselves which they need to
make them loyal to their own ideals when these are out of harmony
with vulgar fashion.
XII.
THE STORK OR THE TRUTH
"Mother, where do babies come from?"
Some day you will be asked this question by your little girl or your
little boy--if you have not already been asked. What will your
answer be?
Even if you have been accustomed to giving frank answers to your
children's questions about all sorts of subjects, you are likely to
hesitate when it comes to this. You will be tempted to say what you
were probably told yourself, under similar circumstances. You will
perhaps say that the doctor brings babies in his satchel, or that
the stork brings babies in his bill. Or perhaps you will feel
impelled to tell Harry to go out and play, and ask you again a few
years later when he will be old enough to understand.
The telling of a myth like the stork story is harmless enough for
the time being. We have entertained Santa Claus for ages without
undermining the morals of our children. And we shall continue to
retell the fairy stories, for, although they are not, strictly
speaking, "true" stories, they have their place in the life of the
child. Why can we not go on, then, as we have done in the past,
leaning upon the stork?
The difference between the story of where babies come from and the
story of Santa Claus or Mother Hubbard is a very important one.
Santa Claus and Mother Hubbard represent ideas and interests that
are but passing phases in the child's development, whereas knowledge
about reproduction is something that grows in interest with the
years and reaches its deepest significance just at the time when you
can hardly, if at all, regain your hold upon your child, once you
have lost it. It does not matter much who disillusions your child
about Santa Claus. The disappointment is brief, and soon the child
can look upon the legend as a joke. But it does matter very much who
tells your child that the stork story is all a lie, and _how_
he is told.
It is well for mothers to realize that the embarrassment which they
may feel when this question is first asked is quite foreign to the
child, for the child at this time has no knowledge whatever of sex.
To him it is simply a question for satisfying his momentary
curiosity. Later on, when the child has become aware of the idea of
sex, he is not likely to ask his mother embarrassing questions, or,
if he should ask them, the situation would be equally embarrassing
to both--unless you have in the meanwhile kept in close sympathy
with your children, and they feel that they can come to you with any
question and be answered frankly. And the way to keep them in close
sympathy is by meeting frankly every question as it arises. It is
not necessary to answer every question by telling everything you
know; it is necessary merely to tell enough to satisfy the child's
immediate need. Not only, then, does your frank answer tend to keep
the child in touch with the mother, but you protect him in this
manner against going for his information to sources that are
frequently contaminating. The information that boys and girls give
one another about sex matters is often something appalling, not only
in its distance from the truth, but in the amount of filth with
which it is encrusted. It is the desire to keep his mind clean,
then, that should prompt the mother to tell her child what he wants
to know when he wants to know it. A third consideration is found in
the fact that many children, when they do not receive satisfactory
answers to their queries, will reflect and brood about the subject
to a degree that becomes morbid. This is especially likely to happen
where the subject of the child's inquiry is treated as though it
were an improper or a wicked one to speak about, so that the child
dares not ask others for enlightenment.