TRAINING THE LITTLE CHILD
"Children are the home's highest product." That means at the outset
that we have children because we believe in them, and that we train
them, as the skilled workman shapes his wood and clay, to achieve the
greatest result of which the human material is capable.
A factory's output can be standardized. An engine's power can be
measured. But he who trains a child can never fully know the mind he
works with nor the result he attains. We do know, however, that if it
is subject to certain influences, trained by certain laws, _the
chances are_ that this mind which we cannot fully know will react in a
certain way.
To attempt in a chapter to outline a system of training for children
would be an attempt doomed to certain failure. Books are written on
this subject, and the shelves of the child-study and child-training
department in the libraries are rapidly filling. What I have in mind
here is rather a single line of the child's development--that which
leads toward making him a useful factor in the home life of which he
forms a part. The boy or girl who fills successfully a place in the
home of his childhood will be in a fair way to undertake successfully
the greater task of founding a home of his own.
In the days of infancy and early childhood, training for boys and
girls may be more nearly identical than in later life. A large part of
the differentiation in the work and play of little boys and girls
would seem to be quite artificial. We give dolls to girls and drums
to boys, but only because of some preconceived notion of our own. The
girls will drum as loudly and the boys care for the baby quite as
tenderly, until some one ridicules them and they learn to simulate a
scorn for "boys' things" and "girls' things" which they do not really
feel.
Throughout this chapter, therefore, it is to be assumed that the
training suggested is quite as applicable and quite as necessary for
one sex as for the other.
Young mothers sometimes ask the family doctor, "When shall I begin to
train the baby to eat at regular intervals, to go to sleep without
rocking, in general to accept the plan of life we outline for him?"
The answer seldom varies: "Before he is twenty-four hours old." It is
therefore evident that all the basic principles of living, whether
physical or mental, must have their foundations far back in the
child's young life.
[Illustration: Photograph by Brown Bros.
Helping with the housework. The boy or girl who successfully fills a
place in the home of his childhood will be in a fair way to undertake
successfully the greater task of founding a home of his or her own]
As a basis for all the rest, we must work for health. A truly
successful life, rounded and full, presupposes health. Regular habits,
nourishing food, plenty of sleep, are axiomatic in writings treating
of the care of young children, yet it is surprising how often these
rules are violated. "It is easier" to give the child what he wants or
what the others are having; easier to let him sit up than to put him
to bed; easier to regard the moment than the years ahead.
[Illustration: Already well started on his education]
Aside from the physical foundation, the training that we are to give
our little children will probably be based upon our conception of what
they need to make them good sons and daughters, good brothers and
sisters, good friends, good husbands and wives, and good fathers and
mothers. In other words, it is the social aspect of life that we have
in mind, and our social ideals. Whatever the boy "wants to be when he
grows up," he is sure to have social relations with his kind. Whether
the girl marries or remains single, she cannot entirely escape these
relations. Indeed they are thrust upon both boy and girl already. What
then do they need to enable them to be successful in the human
relations of living?
We might enumerate here a long list of virtues that will help, but,
since long lists shatter concentration, let us narrow them to four:
(1) sympathy, (2) self-control, (3) unselfishness, (4) industry.
I do not mean to say that, with these four qualities only, a man will
make a successful merchant or farmer, or that a woman will become a
good housekeeper or a skillful teacher. But I do mean that in family
relations these four qualities are worth more than intellectual
attainments or any sort of manual skill. It is really astonishing to
see how much these four will cover. We desire thrift--what is thrift
but self-control? Tolerance--what but sympathy--the "put yourself in
his place" feeling? Courtesy--what but unselfishness?
Let us, then, in the child's early years concentrate upon sympathy,
self-control, unselfishness, and industry. You will doubtless remember
Cabot's summary of the four requirements of man[5]--work, play, love,
and worship. Suppose we could write on the wall of every nursery in
the land:
Sympathy } { Work
Self-control } in { Play
Unselfishness } { Love
Industry } { Worship
Would not this writing on the wall be a fruitful reminder to the
mothers?
The period of early childhood is the one in which the home may act
with least interference as the child's teacher. Later, whether she
will or no, the mother must share the work of training with the
school, the church, and that indefinite influence we class vaguely as
society. During these few early years, then, the mother must use her
opportunity well. It will soon be gone.
How shall she teach such abstract virtues as sympathy, unselfishness,
self-control? Recognizing the fact that the little child acts merely
as his instinct and feelings prompt, she must make all training at
this stage of his life take the form of developing the instincts.
Probably the strongest of these at this time is imitation.
Consequently most of the teaching must take advantage of the imitative
instinct. The first care should be to surround the child with the
qualities we desire him to possess. The mother who scolds, gives way
to temper, or is unwilling or unable to control her own emotions and
acts can hope for little self-control in her child. In the same way
the father who kicks the dog or lashes his horse or is hard and cold
in his dealings with his family may expect only that his child will
begin life by imitating his undesirable qualities. This necessary
supervision of the child's environment is a strong argument for direct
oversight of little children by the mother. It is often difficult even
for her to keep an ideal example before the child; and if she leaves
it to hired caretakers, they seldom realize its necessity or are
willing to take the pains she would herself. Especially is this true
of the young and ignorant girls who are often seen in sole charge of
little children.
This first step being merely passive education, it is not enough. We
must not only set an example; we must go farther and strive to get
from the child acts or attitudes of mind based upon these examples.
Let us take first the quality of sympathy, which is closely allied to
reflex imitation. It is difficult to say just when the child merely
reflects the emotions of those about him and when he consciously
thinks of others as having feelings like his own. This conscious
thought is, of course, the foundation of real sympathy, and it comes
early in the child's life--probably before the fourth year.
[Illustration: Copyright by Underwood & Underwood
Stories that broaden the child's conception of the lives and feelings
of others are of value in training for sympathy]
A little girl of three was greatly interested and pleased at the
appearance of a roast chicken upon the family dinner table. She
chattered about the "birdie" as she had done before on similar
occasions. But when the carving knife was lifted over it, she
astonished everyone by her terrified cry of "Don't cut the birdie.
Hurt the birdie." No explanation or excuse satisfied her, and it was
finally necessary to remove the platter and have the carving done out
of her sight. Most children are naturally sympathetic _when they have
experienced or can imagine_ the feelings of others. The cruelty of
children, is usually due to their absorption in their own feelings
without a _realization_ of the pain they inflict.
Training for sympathy then must consist of enlargement of experience
and cultivation of imagination. Some mothers do not talk enough with
their children. They talk _to_ them--that is, they reprimand or direct
them, but do not carry on conversations, as they might do greatly to
the child's advantage. Telling stories is one of the most fruitful
methods of training at this age. Even "this little pig went to market"
has possibilities in the hands of a skillful mother. The bedtime story
is a definite institution in many families. It deserves to be so in
all. Beginning with the nursery rimes, the stories will gradually
broaden in theme, and if their dramatic possibilities are at all
realized by the story-teller, the children will broaden in their
conception of the lives and feelings of others. Sympathy will thus in
most cases be a plant of natural and easy growth.
Intercourse with other children and with the older members of the
child's family will also furnish constant material for the thoughtful
mother. The baby bumps its head, and the mother soothes it with
gentle, loving words. It is more than likely that the three-or
four-year-old will express his sympathy also. Surely he will if the
mother says, "Poor baby. See the great bump. How it must hurt!" Or
perhaps "big sister" is happy on her birthday. Again, the
three-year-old is likely to show happiness also, and the wise mother
will help the child by a timely word to take the step from reflex
imitation of happiness to true sympathy. Nor must we overlook the
occasions when some one in the nursery has been "naughty" and must be
punished. "Poor Bobby! He is sad because he cannot play with us this
morning. He feels the way you did when you were naughty and had to sit
so still in your little chair. I am sorry for Bobby--aren't you? We
hope he will be good next time, don't we?"
[Illustration: Photograph by Brown Bros.
Kindergarten games afford the intercourse with other children
necessary to the child's development]
Teaching self-control is quite a different matter from the foregoing,
and one which requires infinitely more work and patience. The first
step is, however, the same. If you would have sympathy, show sympathy.
If you would have self-control in a child, control yourself. Remember
the strength of the imitative instinct. Next, strive to obtain control
in the young child in some small matter where control is easy. Any
normal child will learn that control _pays_--_if you make it pay_.
Encourage the hungry child to stop crying while you prepare his food,
but prepare it quickly, or he will begin to cry again to make you
hurry. Mothers usually work hard to teach control of bodily functions,
but often far less to obtain control of mental and moral conditions.
Obedience, considered from time immemorial the chief virtue of
childhood, is really only of value as it conduces to self-control in
later life. The wise parent, therefore, while requiring obedience for
the convenience of the family and the safety of the child, will lay
far more stress upon teaching the child to control himself. The work
must be done almost entirely by indirect methods during the early
years. Offering artificial rewards and dealing out artificial
punishments are the crudest forms of encouraging effort. The natural
reward and the inevitable natural punishment are far better when they
can be employed.
[Illustration: Courtesy of the United Charities of Chicago
A group of children at the Mary Crane Nursery, Chicago. Children
acquire self-control by learning to help themselves]
The child who overcomes his tendency to play before or during his
dressing may be rewarded by some special morning privilege which will
automatically regulate itself. In our family it is the joyful task of
bringing in and distributing the morning mail. The child not dressed
"on time" necessarily loses the privilege. We are not punishing, but
"we can't wait." Lack of control of temper presupposes solitude.
"People can't have cross children about." Quarrels inevitably bring
cessation of group play or work--solitude again. The child's love of
approbation may also be made of great assistance. Always we must
remember that doing _what we tell him to do_ is not after all the main
thing. It is doing the right thing, being willing to do the right
thing, and being able to hold back the impulse to do the wrong thing,
that count. We are working "to train self-directed agents, not to make
soldiers."
Unselfishness is a plant of slow growth. Indeed it is properly not a
childish trait at all, and the most we can probably get is its outward
seeming. But it is important that we at least acquaint the child with
ideals of unselfishness. We must find much in the child to appeal to,
even though altruistic motives do not appear until much later than
this. The love of approbation will prove a strong help again, also the
sense of justice with which children seem endowed from the beginning.
"Help him because he helped you," or "Give her some because she always
gives you part of hers," is often effective. Just as in the case of
self-control, the child will learn to overcome his innate selfishness
"if it pays" to do so. It may seem wrong to encourage any but the
highest motive, but a habit of unselfish acts, resting upon a desire
to win the approbation of others, is a better foundation upon which to
build than no foundation at all. Purely disinterested or altruistic
motives do not appear in the normal child much before the age of
adolescence, and by that time selfishness, which accords so well with
the individualistic instincts of the child, will have hardened into a
fixed habit if not vigorously checked.
Care must be taken to _lead_ the child toward unselfish acts, but not
to _force_ them upon him. The common courtesies of life we may
require, but, beyond that, example, tactful suggestion, wisely chosen
stories, and judicious praise will do far more than force.
The idea of kindness may be grasped by young children and, together
with the great ideal of service, should be emphasized in their home
life and in their intercourse with other children. The "only child"
suffers most from lack of opportunity to learn these two great needs
of his best self--kindness and service. Occasions should be
systematically made for such a child (indeed for all children) to meet
other children on some common ground. Playthings should be shared,
help given and received, and the idea of interdependence brought out.
"We must help each other" should be emphasized from early childhood.
Much must be made of the little helps the child is able to give in the
home--bringing slippers for father, going on little errands about the
house for mother, picking up his own playthings, hanging up his coat
and hat, caring for the welfare of the family pets. Careful provision
should be made for the child's convenience in performing these little
services. There must be places for the toys, low hooks for the wraps,
and constant encouragement and recognition of the small helper. Some
day he may help you because he loves to help. Now he loves to be
praised for helping.
[Illustration: Photograph by Brown Bros.
Helping the little sister. Children will learn unselfishness and
kindness if they are early taught to help one another]
Activity is a natural and absorbing part of a child's life. He is
always doing something. It remains for the parent to direct this
restless movement and to transform some of it into useful labor. Work,
in the sense of accomplishing results for the satisfaction and benefit
of the parent, is quite foreign to our plan for training the young
child. But work for the child's own satisfaction and for the formation
of the habit of industry must occupy our attention in large measure.
The child's playthings should from his earliest days be chosen in
recognition of his desire to do things and make things. The shops are
filled with showy toys, mechanical and otherwise, and children find
the toyshop a veritable fairyland. But once satiated with the sight of
any particular toy, however cunningly devised--and satiety comes
soon--the child forsakes the gorgeous plaything for his blocks, or
paper and a pair of scissors, or even his mother's clothespins. He can
do something with these.
The Montessori materials are perhaps the most thoughtfully planned in
this direction of anything now obtainable; and no one having the care
of young children should be without some knowledge of this now famous
method. All the materials have this advantage: they offer definite
problems and consequently afford the child the joy of accomplishment.
A few of the occupations of life afford us unending enjoyment at every
stage of the doing, but not many. It is rather the achievement of our
end, the "lust of finishing," which carries us through the tiresome
details of our work. The child must therefore be early introduced to
the joy of accomplishment. Instead of unending toys, give him
something to work with. He will appreciate your thoughtfulness, and he
will find not only joy but real development in their use.
At first the child's work will consist of fragmentary efforts, but at
a remarkably early age he will show evidence of a power of
concentration and persistence which will make possible the
accomplishment of finished undertakings. He begins to know what he
wants to do and to exhibit considerable ingenuity in finding and
combining materials. Most of all, he wants to imitate the activities
he sees around him.
In the strain of modern life a widespread restlessness seems to have
seized mankind. Whatever people do, they want to be doing something
else, and the pathway of the average individual is strewn with crude
beginnings, half-finished jobs, abandoned work. The child very easily
falls into line with this tendency of his elders. Hence he needs
definite encouragement to see clearly what he has in hand and to bring
his industrial attempts to a worth-while conclusion. Avoid, even with
a little child, that inconsiderate habit of "grown-ups" of calling the
little worker away whenever you desire his attention or help, quite
regardless of the damage you may do to his work by your untimely
interruption. Keep the child, as far as possible, too, from
undertaking tasks too difficult or requiring too much time for
completion. Discourage aimless handling of tools. A cheerful "What are
you making?" sometimes crystallizes hitherto rambling desires. A
timely suggestion often meets with enthusiastic response.
[Illustration: Photograph by Brown Bros.
Helping in the home tasks. Wisely directed activity will teach the
child both unselfishness and industry]
The working outfit of a child under school age may or may not include
kindergarten or Montessori material. Balls, blocks, pencils and paper,
paste, colored crayons, scissors, a blackboard, a cart, a wheelbarrow,
stout little garden tools, a sand tray or, better, in summer an
outdoor sandpile, will furnish endless work and endless delight to a
child or group of children. It is not so much what sort of material we
use as the way in which we use it. Even at this age the child longs to
be a producer, to "make things"; and his best development requires
that we train this inclination. There is a prevalent notion that women
especially are no longer required to be producers and that all our
energies should be bent toward the sole task of making them
intelligent consumers. There is, however, a joy in producing without
which no life is really complete. And no scheme of education can be a
true success which ignores or neglects the necessity of producing. The
joy of work, the delight in achievement, should be the keynote of all
industrial training. This should be kept constantly in view.
To most people there is something wonderfully appealing about the
innocence of the little child. We watch with delight the marvelous
development of the little mind keeping pace with the growth of bodily
strength and dexterity. We are reluctant to see the day drawing near
when the child must begin his long course of training in school.
Sometimes we fail to recognize the fact that before school days come
the child has already received a considerable part of his education;
that the habits which will make or mar his future are often firmly
implanted and in a fair way to become masters of the young life. An
elaborate plan for the little child's training would probably be
abandoned even if undertaken, since elaborate plans involve endless
work. If, however, we attempt no more than I have outlined in this
chapter, we have some reasonable chance of success. Given good health,
with regular bodily habits, as a physical foundation, the child will
have had much done for him if we have begun to build the habits of
sympathy, self-control, industry, and service which will purify and
sweeten the family relations of later years and make the one-time
child worthy himself to undertake the important task of home building.
It is naturally a matter for regret that the teacher into whose hands
the child comes first at school usually knows so little of the home
training he has had or failed to have. Children whose parents have
made little or no attempt to teach these fundamental qualities which
we have had under discussion are sometimes forever handicapped unless
the teacher can supply the deficiency. Children who have made a good
beginning may lose much of what they have been taught unless the
teacher recognizes and holds them to the ideal. The kindergarten or
primary teacher needs to know the homes of her pupils; and the time is
not far distant when the school will recognize the home as after all
the first grade in school life. Then mothers will receive the
inspiration of contact with the teachers and their ideals, not alone
when their children reach school age, but from the time the first
child arrives in the home. The Sunday school has its "cradle roll."
The day school may emulate its example.
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote 5: Cabot, _What Men Live By_.]