PROVISION FOR SPECIFIC PURPOSES, AS ONE FACTOR OF STUDY
_The habit among eminent men of setting up specific purposes of
study._
The scientific investigator habitually sets up hypotheses of some sort
as guides in his investigations. Many distinguished men who are not
scientists follow and recommend a somewhat similar method of study.
For example, John Morley, M.P., in his _Aspects of Modern Study_,
[Footnote: Page 71.] says, "Some great men,--Gibbon was one and Daniel
Webster was another and the great Lord Strafford was a third,--always,
before reading a book, made a short, rough analysis of the questions
which they expected to be answered in it, the additions to be made to
their knowledge, and whither it would take them. I have sometimes
tried that way of studying, and guiding attention; I have never done
so without advantage, and I commend it to you." Says Gibbon [Footnote:
Dr. Smith's Gibbon, p. 64.], "After glancing my eye over the design
and order of a new book, I suspended the perusal until I had finished
the task of self-examination; till I had resolved, in a solitary walk,
all that I knew or believed or had thought on the subject of the whole
work or of some particular chapter; I was then qualified to discern
how much the author added to my original stock; and, if I was
sometimes satisfied with the agreement, I was sometimes armed by the
opposition of our ideas."
President James Angell emphasizes a similar thought in the following
words:--
I would like to recommend to my young friends who desire to profit by
the use of this library, the habit of reading with some system, and of
making brief notes upon the contents of the books they read. If, for
instance, you are studying the history of some period, ascertain what
works you need to study, and find such parts of them as concern your
theme. Do not feel obliged to read the whole of a large treatise, but
select such chapters as touch on the subject in hand and omit the rest
for the time.
Young students often get swamped and lose their way in the Serbonian
bogs of learning, when they need to explore only a simple and plain
pathway to a specific destination. Have a purpose and a plan, and
adhere to it in spite of alluring temptations to turn aside into
attractive fields that are remote from your subject.[Footnote: Address
at Dedication of Ryerson Public Library Building, Grand Rapids, Mich.,
Oct. 5, 1904.]
Noah Porter expresses himself even more pointedly in these words:--
In reading we do well to propose to ourselves definite ends and
purposes. The distinct consciousness of some object at present before
us, imparts a manifold greater interest to the contents of any volume.
It imparts to the reader an appropriative power, a force of affinity,
by which he insensibly and unconsciously attracts to himself all that
has a near or even a remote relation to the end for which he reads.
Anyone is conscious of this who reads a story with the purpose of
repeating it to an absent friend; or an essay or a report, with the
design of using the facts or arguments in a debate; or a poem, with
the design of reviving its imagery and reciting its finest passages.
Indeed, one never learns to read effectively until he learns to read
in such a spirit--not always, indeed, for a definite end, yet always
with a mind attent to appropriate and retain and turn to the uses of
culture, if not to a more direct application. The private history of
every self-made man, from Franklin onwards, attests that they all were
uniformly, not only earnest but select, in their reading, and that
they selected their books with distinct reference to the purposes for
which they used them. Indeed, the reason why self-trained men so often
surpass men who are trained by others in the effectiveness and success
of their reading, is that they know for what they read and study, and
have definite aims and wishes in all their dealings with books.
[Footnote: Noah Porter, Books and Reading, pp. 41-42.]
_Examples of specific purposes_
It is evident from the above that the practice of setting up specific
aims for study is not uncommon. Some actual examples of such purposes,
however, may help to make their character plainer. Following are a
number of examples of a very simple kind: (1) To examine the
catalogues of several colleges to determine what college one will
attend; (2) to read a newspaper with the purpose of telling the news
of the day to some friend; (3) to study Norse myths in order to relate
them to children; (4) to investigate the English sparrow to find out
whether it is a nuisance, or a valuable friend, to man; (5) to
acquaint one's self with the art and geography of Italy, so as to
select the most desirable parts for a visit; (6) to learn about Paris
in order to find whether it is fitly called the most beautiful of
cities; (7) to study psychology with the object of discovering how to
improve one's memory, or how to overcome certain bad habits; (8) to
read Pestalozzi's biography for the sake of finding what were the main
factors that led to his greatness; (9) to examine Lincoln's Gettysburg
speech with the purpose of convincing others of its excellence.
_The character of these aims_
Well-selected ends of this sort have two characteristics that are
worthy of special note. The first pertains to their _source_. Their
possible variety is without limit. Some may be or an intellectual
nature, as numbers 6, 8, and 9 among those listed above; some may aim
at utility for the individual, as numbers 1 and 7; and some may
involve service to others, as numbers 2 and 3. But however much they
vary, they find their source _within_ the person concerned. They
spring out of his own experience and appeal to him for that reason.
One very important measure of their worth is the extent to which they
represent an individual desire.
The second characteristic pertains to their _narrowness_ and
consequent _definiteness_. They call in each case for an investigation
of a relatively small and definite topic. This can be further seen
from the following topics in Biology: What household plants are most
desirable? How can these plants be raised? What are their principal
enemies, and how can these best be overcome? Whether we be working on
one or more of such problems at a time, they are so specific that we
need never be confused as to what we are attempting.
The nature of these aims in study can be made still clearer by
contrasting them with others that are very common. The "harmonious
development of all the faculties," or mental discipline, for instance,
has long been lauded by educators as one chief purpose in study.
Agassiz was one such educator, and in his desire to cultivate the
power of observation, he is said to have set students at work upon the
study of fishes without directions, to struggle as they might. Many
teachers of science before and since his time have followed a similar
method. Truth for truth's sake, or the idea that one should study
merely for the sake of knowing, has often been associated with mental
discipline as a worthy end. Culture is a third common purpose.
Each of these aims, instead of originating in the particular interests
of the individual, is reached by consideration of life as a whole, and
of the final purposes of education. They are too general in nature to
recognize individual preferences, and they are also too general to
cause much discrimination in the selection of topics and of particular
facts within topics. Strange to say, however, they have discriminated
against the one kind of knowledge that the aforementioned specific
aims emphasize as especially desirable. Under their exclusive
influence, for example, students of biology have generally made an
extensive study of wild plants and have paid little attention to house
plants. Such subjects as physics, fine art, and biology cannot help
but impart much information that relates to man; but that relationship
has generally been the last part reached in the treatment of each
topic, and the part most neglected. Under the influence of these
general aims any useful purpose, whether involving service to the
individual or to society at large, has somehow been eschewed or
thought too sordid to be worthy of the scholar.
_The relation of specific purposes to those that are more
general_
Nevertheless, these two kinds of aims are not necessarily opposed to
each other. If a person can increase his mental power, or his love of
knowledge, or his culture, at the same time that he is accomplishing
specific purposes, why should he not do so? The gain is so much the
greater.
Not only are the two kinds not mutually opposed, but they are really
necessary to each other. General purposes when rightly conceived are
of the greatest importance as the _final_ goals to be reached by
study. But they are too remote of attainment to act as immediate
guides. Others more detailed must perform that office and mark off the
minor steps to be taken in the accomplishment of the larger purposes.
Thus the narrower purposes are related to the larger ones as means to
ends.
_Ways in which specific purposes are valuable
1. As a source of motive power_
Specific purposes are necessary in the first place, because they help
to supply motive power both for study and for life in general. Proper
study requires abundant energy, for it is hard work; and young people
cannot be expected to engage in it heartily without good reason. In
particular, it requires very close and sustained attention, which it
is most difficult to give. Threats and punishments can, at the best,
secure it only in part; for young people who thus suffer habitually
reserve a portion of their energy to imagine the full meanness of
their persecutors and, not seldom, to devise ways of getting even.
Neither can direct exercise of will insure undivided attention. How
often have all of us, conscious that we _ought_ fully to concentrate
attention upon some task, determined to do so in vain.
The best single guarantee of close and continuous attention is a deep,
direct interest in the work in hand, an interest similar in kind to
that which children have in play. Such interest serves the same
purpose with man as steam does in manufacturing,--it is motive power,
and it is as necessary to provide for it in the one case as in the
other.
Broad, general aims cannot generate this interest, for abstractions do
not arouse enthusiasm. It is the concrete, the detailed, that arouses
interest, particularly that detail that is closely related to life. We
all remember how, in the midst of listless reading, we have sometimes
awakened with a start, when we realized that what we were reading bore
directly upon some vital interest. Specific purposes of the kind
described insure the interest, and therefore the energy, necessary for
full and sustained attention. "For remember," says Lowell, "that there
is nothing less profitable than scholarship for the mere sake of
scholarship, nor anything more wearisome in the attainment. But the
moment you have a definite aim, attention is quickened, the mother of
memory, and all that you acquire groups and arranges itself in an
order that is lucid, because everywhere and always it is in
intelligent relation to a central object of constant and growing
interest." [Footnote: Lowell, Books and Libraries.] If eminent
scholars thus value and actually make use of concrete purposes,
certainly immature students, whose attention is much less "trained,"
can follow their example with profit.
Life in general, as well as study, requires motive power. Energy to do
many kinds of things is so important that one's worth depends as much
upon it as upon knowledge. Indeed, if there must be some lack in one
of these two, it were probably better that it be in knowledge.
A deep many-sided interest is a key also to this broader kind of
energy. Yet how often is such interest lacking! This lack of interest
is seen among high-school students in the selection of subjects for
commencement essays; good subjects are difficult to find because
interests are so rare. It is seen among college students in their
choice of elective courses; for they often seem to have no strong
interest beyond that of avoiding hard work. It is seen in many college
graduates who are roundly developed only in the sense that they are
about equally indifferent toward all things. And, finally, it is seen
in the great number of men and women who, without ambition, drift
aimlessly through life. Well-chosen specific purposes will help
materially to remedy these evils, for there is no dividing line
between good study-purposes and good life-purposes. The first must
continually merge into the second; and the interest aroused by the
former, with its consequent energy, gives assurance of interested and
energetic pursuance of the latter.
The importance of being rich in unsolved problems is not likely to be
overestimated. Most well-informed adults who have little "push" are
not lazy by nature; they have merely failed to fall in love with
worthy aims. That is often partly because education has been allowed
to mean to them little more than the collecting of facts. If it had
included the collection of interesting and valuable purposes as well,
their devotion to proper aims in life might have grown as have their
facts; then their energy might have kept pace with their knowledge.
If students, therefore, regularly occupy a portion of their study time
in thinking out live questions that they hope to have answered by
their further study, and interesting uses that they intend to make of
their knowledge, they are equipping themselves with motive power both
for study and for the broader work of life.
_2. As a basis for the selection and organization of facts_
One of the constant dangers in study is that facts will be collected
without reference either to their values, as previously stated, or to
their arrangement. Nature study frequently illustrates this danger.
For instance, I once witnessed a recitation in which each member of a
class of eleven-year-old children was supplied with a dead oak leaf
and asked to write a description of it in detail. The entire period
was occupied with the task, and following is a copy of one of the
papers, without its figures.
THE OAK LEAF.
Greatest length......... Length of the stem....
Greatest breadth........ Color of the stem.....
Number of lobes......... Color of the leaf.....
Number of indentations.. General shape.........
The other papers closely resembled this one. Consider the worth of
such knowledge! This is one way in which time is wasted in school and
college. Probably the main reason for the choice of this topic was the
fact that the leaves could be easily obtained. But if the teacher had
been in the habit of setting up specific aims, and therefore of asking
how such matter would prove valuable in life, she would have never
given this lesson--unless higher authorities had required it.
One of my classes of about seventy primary teachers in the study of
education once undertook to plan subject-matter in nature study for
six-year-old children in Brooklyn. They agreed that the common house
cat would be a fitting topic. And on being asked to state what facts
they might teach, they gave the following sub-topics in almost exactly
this order and wording: the ears; food and how obtained; the tongue;
paws, including cushions; whiskers; teeth; action of tail; sounds;
sharp hearing; sense of smell; cleanliness; eyes; looseness of the
skin; quick waking; size of mouth; manner of catching prey; claws;
care of young; locomotion; kinds of prey; enemies; protection by
society for the prevention of cruelty to animals,--twenty-two topics
in all. When I inquired if they would teach the length of the tail, or
the shape of the head and ears, or the length and shape of the legs,
or the number of claws or of teeth, most of them said "no" with some
hesitation, and some made no reply. When asked what more needed to be
done with this list before presenting the subject to the children,
some suggested that those facts pertaining to the head should be
grouped together, likewise those pertaining to the body and those in
regard to the extremities. Some rejected this suggestion, but offered
no substitute. No general agreement to omit some of the topics in the
list was reached, and most of the class saw no better plan than to
present the subject, cat, under the twenty-two headings given.
Although there were college graduates present, and many capable women,
it was evident that they carried no standard for judging the value of
facts or for organizing them. The setting up of specific purposes
seemed to offer them the aid that they needed. Since this was in
Brooklyn, where the main relation of cats to children is that of pets,
we took up the study of the animal with the purpose of finding to what
extent cats as pets can provide for themselves, and to what extent,
therefore, they need to be taken care of, and how.
Under these headings the sub-topics given, with a few omissions and
additions, might be arranged as follows:
Under first aim:--
I. _Food_ (chief thing necessary).
/Birds
1. Kinds of prey...{ Mice
\Moles, etc.
/Eyes, that see in dark;
2. How found..... { structure.
{ Sense of smell; keenness.
\Ears; keenness.
/ Approach; use of whiskers.
| Quietness of movements;
| how so quiet (padded feet,
| loose joints, manner of
| walking).
| Action of tail.
3. How caught.....{ Catching and holding;
| ability to spring; strength of
| hind legs.
| Fore paws; used like hands.
| Claws; shape, sharpness,
\ and sheaths.
II. _Shelter._ Use of covering.
Finding of warm place in coldest weather.
Under second aim:--
I. _Food_ (when prey is wanting).
Kinds and where obtained: milk; scraps
from table; biscuit; catnip.
Observe method of drinking.
II. _Shelter_. How provide shelter.
III. _Cleanliness_. Why washing unnecessary (cat's face
washing; aversion to getting wet).
Danger from dampness.
Need of combing and brushing;
method.
IV. _Enemies_. Kinds of insects; remedies.
Dogs; boys and men.
Proper treatment. Value of Society for
Prevention of Cruelty to Animals;
how to secure its aid.
Thus a definite purpose, that is simple, concrete, and close to the
learner's experience, can be valuable as a basis for selecting and
arranging subject-matter. Facts that bear no important relation to
this aim, such as the length of the cat's tail and the shape of its
ears, fall out; and those that are left, drop into a series in place
of a mere list.
_As a promise of some practical outcome of study in conduct_
A manufacturer must do more than supply himself with motive power and
manufacture a proper quality of goods; he must also provide for a
market. Again, if he makes money, he is under obligations not to let
it lie idle; if he hoards it, he is condemned as a miser. He is
responsible for turning whatever goods or money he collects to some
account.
The student, likewise, should not be merely a collector of knowledge.
The object of study is not merely insight. As Frederick Harrison has
said, "Man's business here is to know for the sake of living, not to
live for the sake of knowing." "Religion that does not express itself
in conduct socially useful is not true religion"; and, we may add,
education that does not do the same is not true education.
It is part of one's work as a student, therefore, to plan to turn
one's knowledge to some account; to plan not alone to sell it for
money, but to _use_ it in various ways in daily life. If, instead
of this, one aims to do nothing but collect facts, no matter how
ardently, he has the spirit of a bookworm at best and stands on the
same plane as the miser. Or if, notwithstanding good intentions, he
leaves the effect of his knowledge on life mainly to accident, he is
grossly careless in regard to the chief object of study. Yet the
average student regards himself as mainly a collector of facts, a
storehouse of knowledge; and his teachers also regard him in that
light. Planning to turn knowledge to some account is not thought to be
essential to scholarship.
There are, no doubt, various reasons for this, but it is not because
an effect on life is not finally desired. The explanation seems to be
largely found in a very peculiar theory, namely, that the fewer
bearings on life a student now concerns himself with, the more he will
somehow ultimately realize; and if he aims at none in particular, he
will very likely hit most of them. Thus aimlessness, so far as
relations of study to life are concerned, is put at a premium, and
students are directly encouraged to be omnivorous absorbers without
further responsibility.
Meanwhile, sensible people are convinced of the unsoundness of this
theory. How often, after having read a book from no particular point
of view, one feels it necessary to reexamine it in order to know how
it treats some particular topic! The former reading was too defective
to meet a special need, because the very general aim caused the
attitude to be general or non-selective. How often do young people who
have been taught to have no particular aim in their reading, have no
aim at all, beyond intellectual dissipation, the momentary tickle of
the thought. Thus _all_ particular needs are in danger of being
left unsatisfied when no particular need is fixed upon as the object.
It is the growing consciousness of the great waste in such study that
has changed botany in many places into horticulture and agriculture,
chemistry into the chemistry of the kitchen, and that has caused
portions of many other studies to be approached from the human view-
point.
This indicates the positive acceptance of specific purposes as guides
in study. They are not by any means full guarantees of an outcome of
knowledge in conduct, for they are only the plans by which the student
hopes that his knowledge will function. Since plans often fail of
accomplishment, these purposes may never be realized. But they give
promise of some outcome and form one important step in a series of
steps necessary for the fruition of knowledge.
_By whom and when such purposes should be conceived_
The aims set up by advanced scholars are necessarily an outgrowth of
their individual experience and interests. Such aims must, therefore,
vary greatly. For this reason such men must conceive their purposes
for themselves; there is no one who can do it for them.
Younger students are in much the same situation, for their aims should
also be individual to a large extent. Text-books might be of much help
if their authors attempted this task with skill. But authors seldom
attempt it at all; and, even if they do, they are under the
disadvantage of writing for great numbers of persons living in widely
different environments. Any aims that they propose must necessarily be
of a very general character. Teachers might again be of much help; but
many of them do not know how, and many more will not try. The task,
therefore, falls mainly to the student himself.
As to the time of forming in mind these aims, the experimental
scientist necessarily posits some sort of hypothesis in advance of his
experiments; the eminent men before mentioned conceive the questions
that they hope to have answered, in advance of their reading. It is
natural that one should fix an aim before doing the work that is
necessary for its accomplishment. If these aims are to furnish the
motive for close attention and the basis for the selection and
organization of facts, they certainly ought to be determined upon
early. The earlier they come, too, the greater the likelihood of some
practical outcome in conduct; for the want of such an outcome is very
often due to their postponement.
On the other hand, the setting up of desirable ends requires mental
vigor, as well as a wide and well-controlled experience. Gibbon's
"solitary walk" (p. 31) Would hardly be a pleasure walk for most young
people, even if they had his rich fund of knowledge to draw upon.
While it is desirable, therefore, to determine early upon one's
purposes, young students will often find it impossible to do this. In
such cases they will have to begin studying without such aids. They
can at least keep a sharp lookout for suitable purposes, and can
gradually fix upon them as they proceed. In general it should be
remembered that the sooner good aims are selected, the sooner their
benefits will be enjoyed.
THE FITNESS OF CHILDREN IN THE ELEMENTARY SCHOOL TO SELECT SPECIFIC
PURPOSES OF STUDY
According to custom, young people are expected to acquire knowledge
now and find its uses later. The preceding argument would reverse that
order by having them discover their wants first and then study to
satisfy them. This is the way in which man has progressed from the
beginning--outside of educational institutions--and it seems the
normal order.
To what extent shall this apply to children? If the fixing of aims is
difficult for adult students, it can be expected to be even more
difficult for children of the elementary school age. For their
experience, from which the suggestions for specific purposes must be
obtained, is narrow and their command of it slight. On the other hand,
they are expected to have done a large amount of studying before
entering the high school, much of it alone, too. And, after leaving
the elementary school, people will take it for granted that they have
already learned how to study. If, therefore, the finding of specific
purposes is an important factor in proper study, responsibility for
acquiring that ability will fall upon the elementary school.
_Do children need the help of specific aims?_
The first question to consider is, Do children seriously need the help
of such aims? They certainly do in one respect, for they resemble
their elders in being afflicted with inattention and unwillingness to
exert themselves in study. These are the offenses for which they are
most often scolded at school, and these are their chief faults when
they attempt to study alone. There is no doubt also but that the main
reason why children improve very little in oral reading during the
last three years in the elementary school is their lack of incentive
to improve. They feel no great need of enunciating distinctly and of
reading with pleasant tones loud enough to be heard by all, when all
present have the same text before them. Why should they?
Good aims make children alert, just as they do older persons. I
remember hearing a New York teacher in a private school say to her
thirteen-year-old children in composition, one spring day: "I expect
to spend my vacation at some summer resort; but I have not yet decided
what one it shall be. If you have a good place in mind, I should be
glad to have you tell me why you like it. It may influence my choice."
She was a very popular teacher, and each pupil longed to have her for
a companion during the summer. I never saw a class undertake a
composition with more eagerness. In a certain fifth-year class in
geography a contest between the boys and girls for the best collection
of articles manufactured out of flax resulted in the greatest
enthusiasm. The reading or committing to memory of stories with the
object of dramatizing them--such as _The Children's Hour_, in the
second or third grade--seldom fails to arouse lively interest.
For several years the members of the highest two classes in a certain
school have collected many of the best cartoons and witticisms. They
have also been in the habit of reading the magazines with the object
of selecting such articles as might be of special interest to their
own families at home, or to other classes in the school, or to their
classmates, often defending their selections before the class. Their
most valuable articles have been classified and catalogued for use in
the school; and their joke-books, formed out of humorous collections,
have circulated through the school. The effect of the plan in
interesting pupils in current literature has been excellent.
A certain settlement worker in New York City in charge of a club of
fourteen- to eighteen-year-old boys tried to arouse an interest in
literature, using one plan after another without success. Finally the
class undertook to read _Julius Caesar_ with the object of selecting
the best parts and acting them out in public. This plan succeeded; and
while the acting was grotesque, this purpose led to what was probably
the most earnest studying that those boys had ever done.
The value of definite aims for the conduct of the recitation is now
often discussed and much appreciated by teachers. If such aims are so
important in class, with the teacher present, they are surely not less
needed when the child is studying alone.
The worth of specific aims for children as a source of energy in
general is likewise great. It is a question whether children under
three years of age are ever lazy. But certainly within a few years
after that age--owing to the bad effect of civilization, Rousseau
might say--many of them make great progress toward laziness of both
body and mind.
The possibilities in this direction were once strikingly illustrated
in an orphan asylum in New York City. The two hundred children in this
asylum had been in the habit of marching to their meals in silence,
eating in silence, and marching out in silence. They had been trained
to the "lock step" discipline, until they were _quiet_ and _good_ to a
high degree. The old superintendent having resigned on account of age,
an experienced teacher, who was an enthusiast in education, succeeded
him in that office. Feeling depressed by the lack of life among the
children, the latter concluded, after a few weeks, to break the
routine by taking thirty of the older boys and girls to a circus. But
shortly before the appointed day one of these girls proved so
refractory that she was told that she could not be allowed to go.
To the new superintendent's astonishment, however, she did not seem
disappointed or angered; she merely remarked that she had never seen a
circus and did not care much to go anyway. Shortly afterward he fined
several of the children for misconduct. Many of them had a few dollars
of their own, received from relatives and other friends. But the fines
did not worry them. They were not in the habit of spending money,
having no occasion for it; all that they needed was food, clothing,
and shelter, and these the institution was bound to give. Then he
deprived certain unruly children of a share in the games. That again
failed to cause acute sorrow. In the great city they had little room
for play, and many had not become fond of games. It finally proved
difficult to discover anything that they cared for greatly. Their
discipline had accomplished its object, until they were usually "good"
simply because they were too dull, too wanting in ideas and interests
to be mischievous. Their energy in general was low. Here was a demand
for specific purposes without limit.
One of the first aims that the new superintendent set up, after making
this discovery, was to inculcate live interests in these children, a
capacity to enjoy the circus, a love even of money, a love of games,
of flowers, of reading, and of companionship. His means was the fixing
of definite and interesting objects to be accomplished from day to
day, and these gradually restored the children to their normal
condition. Thus all children need the help of specific aims, and some
need it sadly.
_Is it normal to expect children to learn to set up specific aims
for themselves?_
There remains the very important question, Are children themselves
capable of learning to set up such purposes? Or at least would such
attempts seem to be normal for them? This question cannot receive a
final answer at present, because children have not been sufficiently
tested in this respect. It has so long been the habit in school to
collect facts and leave their bearings on life to future accident,
that the force of habit makes it difficult to measure the
probabilities in regard to a very different procedure.
Yet there are some facts that are very encouraging. A large number of
the tasks that children undertake outside of school are self imposed,
many of these including much intellectual work. Largely as a result of
such tasks, too, they probably learn at least as much outside of
school as they learn in school, and they learn it better.
Further, when called upon in school to do this kind of thinking, they
readily respond. A teacher one day remarked to her class, "I have a
little girl friend living on the Hudson River, near Albany, who has
been ill for many weeks. It occurred to me that you might like to
write her some letters that would help her to pass the time more
pleasantly. Could you do it?" "Yes, by all means," was the response.
"Then what will you choose to write about?" said the teacher. One girl
soon inquired, "Do you think that she would like to know how I am
training my bird to sing?" Several other interesting topics were
suggested. The finding of desirable purposes is not beyond children's
abilities.
Individual examples, however, can hardly furnish the best answer to
the question at present; the general nature of children must determine
it. If children are leading lives that are rich enough intellectually
and morally to furnish numerous occasions to turn their acquisitions
to account, then it would certainly be reasonable to expect them to
discover some of these occasions. If, on the other hand, their lives
are comparatively barren, it might be unnatural to make such a demand
upon them.
The feeling is rather common that human experience becomes rich only
as the adult period is reached; that childhood is comparatively barren
of needs, and valuable mainly as a period of storage of knowledge to
meet wants that will arise later. Yet is this true? By the time the
adult state is reached, one has passed through the principal kinds of
experience; the period of struggle is largely over, and the results
have registered themselves in habits. The adult is to a great extent a
bundle of habits.
The child, and the youth in the adolescent age, on the other hand, are
just going the round of experience for the first few times. They are
just forming their judgments as to the values of things about them.
Their intellectual life is abundant, as is shown by their innumerable
questions. Their temptations--such as to become angry, to fight, to
lie, to cheat, and to steal--are more numerous and probably more
severe than they will usually be later; their opportunities to please
and help others, or to offend and hinder, are without limit; and their
joys and sorrows, though of briefer duration than later, are more
numerous and often fully as acute. In other words, they are in the
midst of growth, of habit formation, both intellectually and morally.
Theirs is the time of life when, to a peculiar degree, they are
experimentally related to their environment. Why, then, should they be
taught to look past this period, to their distant future as the
harvest time for their knowledge and powers? The occasions are
abundant _now_ for turning facts and abilities to account, and it
is normal to expect them to see many of these opportunities. Proper
development requires that they be trained to look for them, instead of
looking past them.
Here is seen the need of one more reform in education. Children used
to be regarded as lacking value in themselves; their worth lay in
their promise of being men and women; and if, owing to ill health,
this promise was very doubtful, they were put aside. For education
they were given that mental pabulum that was considered valuable to
the adult; and their tastes, habits, and manners were judged from the
same viewpoint.
Very recently one radical improvement has been effected in this
program. As illustrated in the doctrine of apperception, we have grown
to respect the natures of children, even to accept their instincts,
their native tendencies, and their experiences as the proper _basis_
for their education. That is a wonderful advance. But we do not yet
regard their present experience as furnishing the _motive_ for their
education. We need to take one more step and recognize their present
lives as the field wherein the knowledge that they acquire shall
function. We do this to some extent; but we lack faith in the
abundance of their present experience, and are always impatiently
looking forward to a time when their lives will be rich.
In feeding children we have our eyes primarily on the present; food is
given them in order to be assimilated and used _now_ to satisfy
_present_ needs; that is the best way of guaranteeing health for
the future. Likewise in giving them mental and spiritual food, our
attention should be directed primarily to its present value. It should
be given with the purpose of present nourishment, of satisfying
present needs; other more distant needs will thereby be best served.
A few years ago, when I was discussing this topic with a class at
Teachers College, I happened to observe a recitation in the Horace
Mann school in which a class of children was reading _Silas Marner_.
They were frequently reproved for their unnaturally harsh voices, for
their monotones, indistinct enunciation, and poor grouping of words.
In the Speyer school, nine blocks north of this school, I had often
observed the same defects.
At about that time one of my students, interested in the early history
of New York, happened to call upon an old woman living in a shanty
midway between these two schools. She was an old inhabitant, and one
of the early roadways that the student was hunting had passed near her
house. In conversation with the woman he learned that she had had five
children, all of whom had been taken from her some years before,
within a fortnight, by scarlet fever; and that since then she had been
living alone. When he remarked that she must feel lonesome at times,
tears came to her eyes, and she replied, "Sometimes." As he was
leaving she thanked him for his call and remarked that she seldom had
any visitors; she added that, if some one would drop in now and then,
either to talk or to read to her, she would greatly appreciate it; her
eyes had so failed that she could no longer read for herself.
Here was an excellent chance to improve the children's reading by
enabling them to see that the better their reading the more pleasure
could they give to those about them. This seems typical of the present
relation between the school and its environing world. While the two
need each other sadly, the school is isolated somewhat like the old-
time monastery. The fixing of specific aims for study can aid
materially in establishing the normal relation, and children can
certainly contribute to this end by discovering some of these purposes
themselves. That is one of the things that they should _learn_ to do.
PRACTICAL SUGGESTIONS FOR TEACHING CHILDREN TO FIND SPECIFIC AIMS FOR
THEIR STUDY
_1. Elimination of subject-matter that has little bearing on
life_
The elimination from the curriculum of such subject-matter as has no
probable bearing on ordinary mortals is one important step to take in
giving children definite aims in their study. There is much of this
matter having little excuse for existence beyond the fact that it
"exercises the mind"; for example: in arithmetic, the finding of the
Greatest Common Divisor as a separate topic, the tables for
Apothecaries' weight and Troy measure, Complex and Compound
Fractions;[Footnote: For a more complete list of such topics, see
Teachers College Record, _Mathematics in the Elementary School_,
March, 1903, by David Eugene Smith and F. M. McMurry.] in geography,
the location of many unimportant capes, bays, capitals and other
towns, rivers and boundaries; in nature study, many classifications,
the detailed study of leaves, and the study of many uncommon wild
plants. The teaching of facts that cannot function in the lives of
pupils directly encourages the mere collecting habit, and thus tends
to defeat the purpose here proposed. Not that we do not wish children
to collect facts; but while acquiring them we want children to carry
the responsibility of discovering ways of turning them to account, and
mere collecting tends to dull this sense of responsibility.
_2. The example to be set by the teacher_
By her own method of instruction the teacher can set an example of
what she desires from her pupils in the way of concrete aims. For
instance: (a) during recitation she can occasionally suggest
opportunities for the application of knowledge and ability. "This is a
story that you might tell to other children," she might say; or, "Here
is something that you might dramatize." "You might talk with your
father or mother about this." "Could you read this aloud to your
family?" Again, (b) in the assignment of lessons she might set a
definite problem that would bring the school work into direct touch
with the outside world. In fine art, instead of having children make
designs for borders, without any particular use for the design, she
might suggest, "Find some object or wall surface that needs a border,
and see if you can design one that will be suitable." As a task in
arithmetic for a fifth-year class in a small town, she might assign
the problem, "To find out as accurately as possible whether or not it
pays to keep a cow." Finally, (c) as part of an examination, she can
ask the class to recall purposes that they have kept in mind in the
study of certain topics. By such means the teacher can make clear to a
class what is meant by interesting or useful aims of study, and also
impress them with the fact that she feels the need of studying under
the guidance of such aims.
_3. The responsibility the children should bear._
The teacher need not do a great amount of such work for her class. The
children should _learn to do it themselves_, and they will not acquire
the ability mainly by having some one else do it for them.
Therefore, after the children have come to understand the requirement
fairly well, the teacher might occasionally assign a lesson by
specifying only the quantity, as such and such pages, or such and such
topics, in the geography or history, with the understanding that the
class shall state in the next recitation one or more aims for the
lesson; for example, if it is the geography of Russia, How it happens
that we hear so often of famines in Russia, while we do not hear of
them in other parts of Europe; or, if it is the history of Columbus,
For what characteristic is Columbus to be most admired? Again, In what
ways has his discovery of America proved of benefit to the world? The
finding of such problems will then be a part of the study necessary in
mastering the lesson.
Likewise, during the recitation and without any hint from the teacher,
the children should show that they are carrying the responsibility of
establishing relations of the subject-matter with life, by mentioning
further bearings, or possible uses, that they discover.
Review lessons furnish excellent occasions for study of this kind. It
is narrow to review lessons only from the point of view of the author.
His view-point should be reviewed often enough to become well fixed,
but there should be other view-points taken also.
John Fiske has admirably presented the history of the period
immediately following the Revolution. The title of his book, _The
Critical Period of American History_, makes us curious from the
beginning to know how the period was so critical. This is a fine
example of a specific aim governing a whole book. But other aims in
review might be, Do we owe as much to Washington during this period as
during the war just preceding? Or were other men equally or more
prominent? How was the establishment of a firm Union made especially
difficult by the want of certain modern inventions? The pupils
themselves should develop the power to suggest such questions.
_4. The sources to which children should look for suggestions_
The teacher can teach the children _where to look for suggestions_ in
their search for specific purposes. During meals, three times a day,
interesting topics of conversation are welcome; indeed, the dearth of
conversation at such times, owing to lack of "something to say," is
often depressing. There is often need of something to unite the family
of evenings, such as a magazine article read aloud, or a good
narrative, or a discussion of some timely topic. There are social
gatherings where the people "don't know what to do"; there are
recesses at school where there is the same difficulty; there are
neighbors, brothers and sisters, and other friends who are more
than ready to be entertained, or instructed, or helped. Yet children
often dramatize stories at school, without ever thinking of doing the
same for the entertainment of their family at home. They read good
stories without expecting to tell them to any one. They collect good
ideas about judging pictures, without planning to beautify their homes
through them. Thus the children can be made conscious that there are
_wants_ on all sides of them, and by some study of their environment
they can find many aims that will give purpose to their school work.
Again, by a review of their past studies, their reading, and their
experience of various kinds, they can be reminded of objects that they
are desirous of accomplishing. It is, perhaps, needless to say that
the teacher herself must likewise make a careful study of the home,
street, and school life of her pupils, of their study and reading, if
she is to guide them most effectually in their own search for
desirable aims.
_5. Stocking up with specific aims in advance_
Finally, the teacher can lead her pupils to stock up with specific
aims _even in advance of their immediate needs_. A teacher who visits
another school with the desire of getting helpful suggestions would
better write down beforehand the various things that she wishes to
see. She can afford to spend considerable time and energy upon such
a list of points. Otherwise, she is likely to overlook half of the
things she was anxious to inquire about.
Likewise, children can be taught to jot down in a notebook various
problems that they hope to solve, various wants observed in their
environment that they may help to satisfy. Children who are much
interested in reading, sometimes without outside suggestion make lists
of good books that they have heard of and hope to read. And as they
read some, they add others to their list. Keeping this list in mind,
they are on the lookout for any of these books, and improve the
opportunity to read one of them whenever it offers. A similar habit in
regard to things one would like to know and do can be cultivated, so
that one will have a rich stock of aims on hand in advance, and these
will help greatly to give purpose to the work later required in the
school.
_6. The importance of moderation in demands made upon children._
In conclusion, it may be of importance to add that this kind of
instruction can be easily overdone, and it is better to proceed too
slowly than too rapidly. It is a healthy and permanent development
that is wanted, and the teacher should rest satisfied if it is slow.
It is by no means feasible to attempt to subordinate all study to
specific aims; we cannot see our way to accomplish that now. But we
can do something in that direction. Only occasional attempts with the
younger children will be in place; more conscious efforts will be
fitting among older pupils. By the time the elementary school is
finished, a fair degree of success in discovering specific aims can be
expected.
Yet, even if little more than a willingness to _take time to try_
is established, the gain will be appreciable. When children become
interested in a topic, they are impatient to "go on" and "to keep
going on." This continual hurrying forward crowds out reflection. If
they learn no more than to pause now and then in order to find some
bearings on life, and thus do some independent _thinking_, they are
paving the way for the invaluable habit of reflection.