Showing posts with label Narration. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Narration. Show all posts

Monday, 16 March 2009

A New Method of Narration

Narration is a key component of a Charlotte Mason education. It is the process by which the student learns the content of whatever she reads, hears, or observes. Sometimes people mistake it as a method of evaluation: a chance for the teacher to see whether the student learned the material. But it is not intended to be that. Charlotte taught that by narrating the student makes the material her own, and that a lesson not narrated is a lesson wasted.

So we narrate. A lot. And sometimes the children get tired of it, wanting to do things differently. In a CM school, all children had to be prepared to narrate after any section of reading, but only one was selected to do so. In our CM home school, there is often only one student, and she gets tired of always being the one chosen to narrate. To mix things up a bit I will sometimes narrate, but mostly it is My Girl doing the narrations. There are the times when Little Man is part of the lesson, and he will have a turn to narrate, as well. On those occasions, I have often received less than thrilled glances from My Girl when I once again call on her to narrate, having her bear the bulk of the narration responsibility.

We've been reading the Christian Liberty Nature Reader, Book 5, as part of our Creation studies all year. Little Man is usually a part of the reading, and I was typically reading the passage and selecting a student to narrate each passage. Occasionally My Girl would read the passage, and I would sometimes take a turn narrating. It was going all right. But not great.

Last week we tried something different.

The three of us sat on the couch in the living room, I showed them a regular die from one of our board games, and I explained the process:

An even number rolled before a reading meant that My Girl would read. Odd would mean I would read.

An even number rolled before a narration meant that My Girl would narrate. Odd would mean that Little Man or I would narrate, alternating turns.


Suddenly the whole process became exciting! Both children were attending with more care to the passage being read, and the narrations I received from both of them were better than I'd ever had with this book! And, I was no longer the 'bad guy', picking who would narrate, favouring one over the other. Nope, it was all in the hands of the die. In fact, one day the die was definitely biased and picking My Girl constantly to read AND narrate, so, when I rolled a 4, I thought I'd try to give her a break and rolled again. I rolled another 4. I rolled again. I rolled a 6. At that point we were all laughing and My Girl said, "I guess I really have to do this one, too," and off she went, narrating beautifully!

It was a simple change. It'll probably work for a while and then we'll have to try something else again. But for now I am content. And thankful. And pleased with the Ones I Love. They really are terrific students!

Sunday, 1 March 2009

On Narration

In case you've never visited "Higher Up and Further In", I'd like to point you in that direction. Linda Fay has a terrific blog that covers all sorts of things educational from a CM perspective, as well as branching into other areas of life.

This week she put up a post called "Narration Thoughts from a Highschooler." These are her daughter's responses to questions about narration. It's interesting to read the student's perspective on the value of narration and to see how much she has come to appreciate the discipline of narration.

Why don't you take a moment to visit this post by Linda Fay and then, if you've never been there before, you might want to spend some time browsing. Her sidebar list of "Starting Points" might be where you'd like to begin looking. Or maybe you'll scroll down to "Categories" and pick one of those to dive into. Whichever direction you take, I know that you'll be inspired by her wisdom and enthusiasm.

Saturday, 10 January 2009

Knowing Deeply - The Act of Knowing

Sometimes I wonder if I'm 'in my head' too much. And other times (like recently) I avoid thinking deeply because I know that the time commitment and emotional energy required of it is more than I have available. But those times of avoidance are times when, in addition to not thinking deeply, I'm not living deeply. Things are happening around me, I'm reading good books, listening to interesting lectures, sermons, etc., but I'm an observer, and they aren't sinking into the depths of me. As a result, those interesting conversations, etc., don't stay with me: I can't remember much of them within a day or two, and they aren't changing me the way I thought they might when I was first listening or observing.

Why does that happen? Why can't I recall those things that really did seem significant when I heard them? What does it take to make something 'my own'?

Charlotte Mason would likely say that the very fact that I didn't make it my own was the reason that I couldn't recall it, the reason it didn't change me. It was like a lovely dish placed before me at a buffet, but not partaken of: I only looked at it while someone else enjoyed it.

Here's what Charlotte Mason has to say about how we acquire knowledge:

Knowledge is that which we know; and the learner knows only by a definite act of knowing which he performs for himself... (Vol 6 p. 255)

The mind refuses to know anything except what reaches it in more or less literary form...Persons can 'get up' the driest of pulverised text-books and enough mathematics for some public examination; but these attainments do not appear to touch the region of the mind. (Vol. 6 p. 256)


I've seen this phenomenon; perhaps you have, too:

One day, as we walked into an examination room while undergrads at the University of Manitoba's Faculty of Education, one of my fellow students was cautiously maintaining a safe buffer area around himself. His arms were stiffly bent before him, his head posed immobile upon his neck. "Don't bump me," he said now and again. His fear? All that he had crammed into his head the night before would be dislodged and forever lost. He hadn't made the knowledge his own. It was still someone else's knowledge, precariously balanced on his mind until the exam was done, after which it would no longer be there.

How do we make it our own? How is information received transformed into knowledge that impacts?

Charlotte Mason says that for anyone, child or adult, brilliant or slow, rich or poor, there is but one main act of knowing: Narration. Telling back what has been read or heard or seen.
Now this art of telling back if Education and is very enriching. We all practise it, we go over in our minds the points of a conversation, a lecture, a sermon, an article, and we are so made that only those ideas and arguments which we go over are we able to retain. Desultory reading or hearing is entertaining and refreshing, but is only educative here and there as our attention is strongly arrested. Further, we not only retain but realise, understand, what we thus go over. Each incident stands out, every phrase acquires new force, each link in the argument if riveted, in fact we have performed THE ACT OF KNOWING, and that which we have read, or heard, becomes a part of ourselves, it is assimilated after the due rejection of waste matter...We realise that there is an act of knowing to be performed; that no one can know without this act, that it must be self-performed, that it is as agreeable and natural to the average child or man as singing is to the song thrush, that "to know" is indeed a natural function. (Vol 6 p. 292)

I love these words! I love to think about how natural this is to humans, to have the words and ideas we come upon sink into our lives through narration, through journaling, through analysis and conversation.

So I'm going to just spend some time thinking on all this, seeing how I can get out of the shallow place I've been for a while and move back into the depths of knowledge. God has so much for me - I don't want to waste another minute!