CHAPTER V.

LANGUAGE LESSONS AS A PREPARATION FOR READING LESSONS.

Two problems confront the teacher of little children in the ordinary

school-room. Children coming from different homes, with various training

and environment, do not always bring a common fund of knowledge.

Unaccustomed to the strange surroundings and the new _régime_, they

are not always free in telling what they know. The teacher needs to

learn the “contents of their minds” (as the present phrase hath it),

and this she cannot readily do unless the children converse freely and

without self-consciousness. Talking lessons, or lessons whose object

is purely to help them to free expression, so that they will reveal

their experiences to the teacher, are very necessary at this stage.

These lessons will have a further value if they help the children to new

interests, and to new knowledge. They will also be more valuable if the

teacher recognizes a definite purpose and forms a definite plan for the

lesson.

Again, the simplest reading lesson develops the fact that, inasmuch as

the children’s experiences have been varied, their corresponding fund

of ideas is widely different. Any new lesson may present ideas entirely

foreign to the experience of the children. The words which represent

these ideas, therefore, will be unfamiliar. This state of affairs

necessitates an act of teaching which should precede the act of reading.

For example, a class of city children in the West attempt to read a

story which deals with life by the sea. The sounding sea, the rolling

waves, the whispering foam, the rugged rocks, the shining sands, the

smooth pebbles, the brown seaweed, the white-winged ships, the brave

sailors, are unknown quantities to these children—entirely foreign to

their experience. Clearly, before they read this lesson, they must know

something of the life and scenes which the lesson portrays. The teacher

of children who live by the sea is not confronted by the same problem.

Her children have played upon the beach, have gathered the many-colored

pebbles, have built houses in the wet sand. Ships at sea are as familiar

to them as are the clouds, or the birds; while many of them have played

upon the decks of their fathers’ fishing-boats, and know the ropes and

spars even as they know their own homes. These children have had an

experience which fills the lesson with meaning. The inland children must

be taught in the next best way. Since they cannot go to the sea, at

least pictures of the sea may be brought to them. Shells and pebbles,

sea-urchins, starfishes, and seaweeds will tell their story of the

far-off beaches. Pictures of ships at sea, of rocks lashed by the waves

in a storm, will help them to imagine the conditions which their lesson

attempts to describe to them. But the wise teacher will make a connecting

link, in some fashion, between the experience and interest of the child

and the thought suggested by the story. Here, then, is the need of a

language lesson which shall introduce or explain the reading lesson,

preparing the child for the new thought, or recalling to his mind the

almost forgotten experience.

The everyday experience in every city school-room will serve to reënforce

this truth. Many a city child has never looked upon daisies and

buttercups. Brooks and fields and trees are outside his little horizon.

It is idle to have these children pronounce the words which stand for

these objects unless the words call up pictures in their own minds, and

this cannot be the case except as they have some experience with the

real things. It is not impossible to bring the flowers and the birds and

the trees within the experience of the children. No other work which

we can ever do for them will tend more to their future happiness and

growth; but, aside from that, no other work which we can do for them will

contribute so generously to their growth in reading power. They cannot

get the thought from the page unless the words stand for something at

least akin to their own experience, and our first efforts must begin by

occasioning the experience which is necessary to the interpretation of

the printed page. As a means to good reading, then, language lessons are

necessary for the purpose of developing ease of expression and freedom

from self-consciousness, and leading to knowledge which will serve as a

basis for the new thought contained in the lesson.

The subjects introduced in the earliest language lessons should be those

with which children are ordinarily familiar. All country children are

somewhat acquainted with the common animals: the rabbit, squirrel, cat,

dog, cow, mouse, etc. They know something of the occupations of the

people around them. They have watched the sunrise and sunset. They have

seen the boughs of the trees waving in the wind. They have been awakened

by the birds in the morning. They have cared for pet animals at home.

Many city children have had something of this experience. All need to

have it. In every lesson where these subjects are introduced, the teacher

should be assured that the children already know something about them. A

short conversation may suffice where the objects are already familiar;

where they are strange, careful lessons should be arranged. The cat,

rabbit, dog, squirrel, or mouse, can be brought to the school-room, cared

for, observed, studied, discussed. These language lessons will not only

give the children the knowledge necessary for understanding the lessons,

but they will endow the subject with new interest, and add to the reading

a sense of reality. Children who have been observing the squirrel will

read with great zest the lessons which reaffirm what their eyes have

seen, or answer the questions which they have asked, or tell some story

which adds to the interest already evoked. The reading thus becomes

an expression of the child’s actual experience or interest. It is no

longer a something which he does simply because he is told. He sees at

once the fruit of his labors. He reaches a goal which seems desirable

from a child’s point of view. He recognizes the purpose and meaning of

the story, and works to dig out the message which the sentences contain

for him. Everything which serves to make the lesson real to the child’s

experience, makes a permanent addition to his reading power.

A little careful study convinces us that there are two general fields

which all readers must explore. The subjects which appear and reappear

upon the pages of books have their source either in nature or in human

experience. When we teach the child to read books, we must also teach him

to apprehend that of which books treat. This teaching will necessarily

include observation of nature and observation of human experience. To

read “The Village Blacksmith” requires some knowledge of a blacksmith’s

work and its associations: the horse and his shoes, the molten iron and

its action, the sounding anvil and its use, the reason for the “honest

sweat” upon the brow of him who “owes not any man.” Knowledge of nature

and knowledge of human experience are surely needed in order to read the

thought in this poem. He whose experience is richest will obtain the

richest harvest from this field. Any act of reading will teach us this

truth with regard to our own experience. It ought also to point the

way for all teaching of children. A visit to a blacksmith’s shop is the

best possible preparation for a study of “The Village Blacksmith.” If

such a visit is impossible (is it ever impossible?), pictures and talks

may help to supply the need. The language lesson in the one form or the

other is necessary to the full interpretation of the reading. So of any

poem or story which tells of the life of the farmer, the miller, the

baker, the sailor, the fisherman, the shoemaker, the mother. The language

lesson which serves to make the experience real to the children helps

them to understand the reading lesson, and gives added power for the

interpretation of all such lessons in the future.

Such language lessons should not be considered as something added to

the school course. They are legitimate reading lessons, inasmuch as

they prepare for the study of pages which would be meaningless to many

pupils without such preparation. The teacher will of course choose her

own time for such lessons. Often they are given in connection with the

reading lesson itself. A wiser plan ordinarily is that which allots a

specific time for the observation or the conversation which is necessary

to explain the reading lesson. If the first period of the morning is

set aside for oral language, the subjects for this period may be easily

determined by the reading lesson, and selected to accord with and prepare

for it.

A few illustrative lessons appear in another chapter. They are intended

to serve as suggestions merely, for those to whom such lessons are to

open a new field. It is believed that in the majority of school-rooms

such teaching is already a common feature.

_And to get peace, if you want it, make for yourselves nests

of pleasant thoughts. Those are nests in the sea, indeed, but

safe beyond all others. Do you know what fairy palaces you may

build of beautiful thought, proof against all adversity? Bright

fancies, satisfied memories, noble histories, faithful sayings,

treasure houses of precious and restful thoughts, which care

can not disturb, nor pain make gloomy, nor poverty take away

from us; houses built without hands for our souls to live in._

—_JOHN RUSKIN._

[Illustration]

Reading: How to Teach It · 第 5 / 13 章