Learning Is It's Own Reward? You Bet!

"Learning is fun. We don't make it that way," is what Daren Carstens reminded attendees of the 2010 Dust or Magic AppCamp. "It's possible to wreck it," he continued, "It's possible to make it not fun. But learning itself really is fun."


I stole this quote from the opening of Traci Lawsen's blog at Ten Toed Inc .   Traci, an eductional game designer, makes a wonderful point about expected rewards, such as stickers, inhibiting the intrinsic motivation of learning.  "Practice" is another matter. Check out what she has to say.

Disadvantaged Children Teach themselves to Use the Internet

In 1999 Sugata Mitra punched a hole in the wall of his office, bordering a slum area in New Delhi, and installed a computer, mousepad, and camera. Then he watched as curious children began to explore the equipment, and within minutes, browse the Internet.

As reported in "Raising Young Einsteins" published in Canadian Business on July 14, 2011, Mitra then "set out to replicate the results, conducting another so-called Hole In the Wall experiment in a poor rural village, where the kids didn’t even speak English. After two months, Mitra says he was expecting to find them “doing something fascinating like playing games.” But when he arrived, the children informed him that they needed a faster processor and a better mouse. “I couldn’t believe my ears,” he says. “I asked them how they knew [about those things], and they said, ‘You left a machine which works only in English, so we taught ourselves how to use English.’ And then gradually, they began to understand what it was all about.” In addition to playing games, browsing and sending e-mails, the children had picked up some 200 English words."


This is an extreme example, but it doesn't surprise me that children can teach themselves even when the subject is so foreign to their daily experience.  Children are programmed to learn!  They are going to learn whether they are taught or not.  The main question is, what will they learn? What will be in their world to explore? ...to investigate?  The primary job of all parents and teachers is not to "teach" but to "facilitate", to provide materials and time, be around to assist when needed, answer questions, and help gather materials for the nest step.


Children's minds are geared to see the big picture and break it down into parts that make sense to them, to assimilate and put it all together.  What they express may be simple in the beginning, like their first words, but those words are learned in the context of the whole language, and the even bigger picture of language as a means of communication.  


When we break learning into tiny, step by step pieces do we deprive children of seeing the whole context?  Does it inhibit their development of creative problem solving skills?  Do we go in so close that they don't experience the big picture?  I remember in sixth grade being totally confused by the teacher's instructions in some mysterious math mumbo jumbo. The steps he was doing made no sense at all to me, until I finally realized he was just dividing fractions.  I could do that, no problem!


When my oldest daughter started first grade, eager and ready to learn to read, she questioned why she had to spend time putting the blocks in a special order (practicing left to right sequencing).  She accepted and preformed the task when the teacher said it would help her learn to read, but looked at me and shrugged.  It really didn't make sense to her.  Months later, still doing readiness activities she was very frustrated and told me she didn't want to go back to school until they got to the part where she could learn reading in a book. 


I am aware that not all children have the early exposure to books and the printed page, and the idea that words are read from left to right, but all children who are read to, who learn to love books and stories, and have books in their hands will learn to read.  Did the "readiness" activities make those children who had not been exposed to books any more eager to read? Did it make them learn any faster? Or did it do more to satisfy the needs of the curriculum, providing boxes for the teacher to check off to mark progress?   (I was actually told that my daughter wasn't really ready to read yet because she couldn't skip rope!)   Might the time used measuring progress on step by step readiness tasks have been equally, or even more valuably spent reading to those children, giving them the big picture and letting them make the discoveries for themselves?


I have a hunch that in making the discoveries the kids are getting something even bigger than learning the task at hand, important as that may be. They are developing their innate ability to puzzle things out, to problem solve, to think creatively. 


My grandson in third grade was accidentally given the wrong homework paper--long division with remainders which he had not yet been taught.  Normally, he dawdled over the boring homework, practice of something he already knew how to do, but this day he worked with real interest, finishing the paper in record time!  Learning, figuring something out, is much more fun than boring old practice!


The four-year-old nephew of a dear friend recently told his mother, "I need you to write down a list, because there are lots of things I need to know. Then we need to get the books about those things so you can read them to me."  This mother doesn't need to make a plan. This kid is on top of it!


Learning isn't step by step, follow the dots. It's a creative activity, one kids are designed for. Let them at it and cheer them on!

Books are Miraculous!

Last week I did a story hour in the Gallery Bookshop, up the coast in Mendocino.  I had a fine time with the little ones and their moms, but the highlight for me came at the end when a woman stepped up and asked if I had time to hear a story about one of my older books. Of course, I did!

In her hands she held a copy of Flying Firefighters.  In the early nineties my husband, then a ranger on the Stanislaus National Forest, had written the story of the helitack crew stationed at Bald Mountain. The firefighters are flown by helicopter into a remote area to scratch breaks and douse small flames while the pilot flies to a nearby lake and fills a canvas bucket with water to drop on hot spots. I had done the illustrations.

Emily--I think that was her name and apologize if my memory has failed me--began her tale.  "My son, now twenty-two, is a firefighter for the US Forest Service," she said, "and a couple years ago he told me he was on a helitack crew." Wondering what in the world that was, she googled it and came up with our book.

"Even though it was out of print I managed to get a copy, and  was so happy because it explained exactly what my son was doing better than any thing else I could find.   Now here is the surprising part," she continued, "he is stationed at Bald Mountain. The  helicopter has the same number, and the pilot is even named Tom!"

I was properly amazed, but that still wasn't all. She went on,  "This winter I was volunteering in the library and got curious. Sure enough, there was a copy of the book still on the shelf and when I looked inside there was my name. I had checked this book out and read it to Chris  back in 1995!   Later,  looking through some things I had saved I found a drawing he had made of the helicopter with the bucket, complete with spout and everything. He went through a period of drawing lots of helicopters."

Amazing! Synchronicity? Serendipity? Did the book plant a seed in the mind of this little boy who is now so completely living out the story? Thoughts do  become things.

Books change lives. They show us who we are, help us connect with others who have similar experiences, open doors to new possibilities, especially to the very young.   Often, books  introduce new ideas, some of which, apparently, are keepers.

Recently, a friend asked me to record a five minute audio on my philosophy of writing for kids. Why do I do it? What makes it important and valuable? This woman's story is one of the big answers to that question, "Why?"

To hear the audio go to my homepage. It's right at the top.

The Wisdom of Children

Emmett, partly due to his age (10) and partly his nature, likes to be a bit cool and aloof, which drives his hugging, verbally expressive sister crazy—probably part of  the reason he plays it that way.  Clearly, he has her number, and she has his.

“Oh, we love each other,” she says. “We just don’t say we love each other.”

One day when he was annoying her by being allusive, she told him, “Emmett, I can see right inside your heart. I know what’s in there no matter what you say.” She picked up a pencil and paper and drew a heart, partitioning it into three sections. “Here is what your heart looks like on the inside.  There’s Mom and Dad and you and me,” she said, drawing the four smaller hearts in one section.  “And here is music that you love, and lots of DS’s because you love, love, love to do DS.” (His DSi is the handheld device he uses to make endless flip videos.)

“So that is what your heart looks like on the inside, and here is what it looks like on the outside.”  She drew the cool dude of a heart at the bottom of the page.

“And here is what my heart looks like.” She finished by drawing the sweet friendly heart at the top of the page.

If anybody knows about hearts, it’s Violet!

Kids and Time

My two younger grandchildren have spent the last two weeks with us here at their annual summer “art camp” and, though I’m exhausted, it’s been a joy.  We read BRIGHTY OF THE GRAND CANYON, made a trip by kayak and raft down the Gualala River, played Apples to Apples, watched some good movies, made s’mores and ice-cream sandwiches,  and joined a couple other families to do some tie-dying.  I helped Violet sew her first skirt and Popa showed Emmett how to use midi software on the computer.  Eight mornings the kids went to the Gualala Art Center where they had classes in ceramics, performance art, music, culinary arts, painting and crafting.

But the best part was all the free time the kids had in an open environment. It is such a joy to see what they do with it. Violet, age seven, is constantly singing and creating little scenarios, either on paper, or with her toys and found objects.  She loves to play with sound, chanting, rhyming, making up rhythms and songs, sometimes sending herself into fits of hilarious giggles.  She writes stories and notes, draws pictures, reads books, and works puzzles.

Emmett plays the guitar and composes his own music. He’ll get a rhythm and melody going, then Violet starts singing, making up the words as she goes.  They made up soulful songs about their dogs, love songs to their parents, and a sweet ballad about art camp, as well as a numerous unfinished compositions. 

He composes music on the computer, too, using Garage Band and now the midi software, and creates flip animations on his DSi (a handheld digital game console).  He also spends hours reading, mostly fantasy, but refuses to finish one book until he starts another.  (He hates to have any good thing end!)

Several afternoons they were joined by their friends from the Art Center and with pencils, yellow pads, and hats became detectives, writing pages of notes as they searched for the elusive banana slug. They set up a community in the orchard with leaves for currency, a mail delivery system, and a bad guy or two to add drama, carrying the game from our place to the other grandparents’ home and back again on following afternoons.

Emmett (in the yellow) and Violet with their "art camp" friends, Hunter and Austin. 

Not once did I hear, “I’m bored.” Raised by parents who encourage their creative activities at every opportunity, Emmett and Violet are very connected with their own inner resources.  Yes, some structure is important. The guitar lessons Emmett’s parents pushed him to take have greatly expanded what he can now do with his interest in the instrument, and even in their free summer at “art camp” the kids have a few chores to do and some limits to respect—life comes with responsibilities—but once those things are taken care of, within some very generous parameters, their time is their own. 

I'm so lucky to be able to share the experience with my grandchildren.  My wish is that all children might have this kind of time and opportunity to discover their own inner resources and interests. 

"Use Your Grounding Cords, Moma!"

Three-year-old Violet and her brother, then six, were with my husband and I for their annual two weeks of “art camp”.  Our days were filled with trips to the ocean or river, exploring the woods and pond, sewing, reading, drawing, and crafting. By dinner time Popa and I were exhausted, so most days ended with a relaxing movie, a treat the kids didn’t get as often at home.   Scrambling to get them bathed and dinner prepared so the movie would be over by bedtime, my voice was sharp when I reminded Violet that she needed to get in the tub.

       Surprised by my impatience, Violet replied, “You need to use your grounding cords, Moma!”  

       “I’ll tell you what,” I said, “you get in the tub, and I’ll get dinner started, then I’ll come in and you can tell me all about grounding cords.” 

         As I sat by the edge of the tub she did an excellent job of telling me how to send all my bad energy into the center of the earth where it would be changed to good energy. She showed me how to make a bubble over my head, put all the good things in it—the people who love me, my teddy bear, all the good things—and  call all of my good energy into my bubble. Then, wiggling her fingers up and down her body, head to toe, she showed me how to bring that energy down and tickle it into my body.

         She did such a good job that later that night when she woke up and didn’t want to stay alone, I reminded her that she could make that bubble around herself and bring in all the things she loved. She could put me and her Mama and Daddy into that bubble, so she would be very safe and not alone.  It worked like a charm!

         Violet also saw herself as a healer and for any small injury would rub her hands together and put the good energy into the hurt place to make it all better, on herself or anyone else who needed it. I was intrigued and wanted to know more about this teacher who had given my granddaughter this insight into her gifts at such a young age.

         Monica Berry had left the Garden School, where Violet had met her, and gone on to start her own Harmony House Learning Center.  Yesterday I finally got to visit and see Monica and her fellow teacher in action. The children were adorable, eight 2-4 year olds, one a bit younger, and a pre-toddler, all wiggly and active, developing language and social skills as they played and interacted with one another.

         Before snack Miss Nicole led them in a short practice of creating a golden bubble and bringing in their good energy before reciting a short rhyme of gratitude for the food, Harmony House, friends and love. 

         At circle time they put new markers on the calendar, counting the days, and recording the weather, and shared stories of their weekend. Then Miss Monica led them in their meditation. They rubbed their hands together to warm up the magic, sent the bad energy to the center of the earth, and made a bubble around themselves.  “This is your space,” Miss Monica said. “Only your energy is in this space. Now make your golden sun over your head. Call all of your energy back from wherever it is, call it from home, from places you have been, wherever it has gone, call it all back into that golden bubble.  Bring in some tickles, and some little surprises. Call all the good things into your golden bubble.  Now bring all that good energy down into your body.  Put your hands on your head and fill it with that good energy so you can focus and pay attention.  Tickle it down into all the parts of our body.  Now go into your space where you are calm and grounded.”  She then dismissed the children one by one, to line up for outdoor time.   The older ones quickly showed her they were ready by sitting quietly, eyes closed.  A couple of the younger ones needed to be reminded how to “go into their space” and show their readiness.

         The attitudes and skills the children learn in this meditation exercise are woven throughout their day, giving the teachers excellent tools to help the children stay in control of themselves.  A child who is getting too rambunctious is asked to “ground your body”.  One who is disturbing a child next to her is asked to stay in her own space, and not disturb her neighbors space.  Another child bursts into tears when the place she wants at the table is taken. First the teacher suggests that she take another seat, or use her words to ask the child in the seat she wants if she might be willing to switch. When the tears continue the teacher says, “Do you need to go into your space and get grounded?”  The child nods, goes into an alcove with a child-sized couch and comes back a few minutes later, ready to rejoin the group for snack.

         I was very impressed that these children are being given tools to control their bodies, that come not just from being ordered to “keep your hands to yourself” but through learning that control comes from within. They are learning that they can control their thoughts and emotions as well as their bodies.

         As a former preschool teacher I can really appreciate the value these tools in keeping the children safe, calm and attentive in a group situation.  The teacher is still clearly in charge, reminding the young ones that they do need to keep themselves from hurting or disturbing others, but the reminders to the child are gentle, positive and empowering.

         I am grateful that my granddaughter was one of the young people to get these early insights, and to Monica Berry for sharing this lovely mediation and inner awareness with children.  For more visit Harmony House Learning Center. 

  

Life Lessons

Recently, I helped my grandchildren, then 9 and 6, make their own quilts to enter into my guild's challenge show. The theme was "Rhapsody in Hue".   Violet knew immediately she wanted to make a "Somewhere Over the Rainbow" quilt, and as I helped her with the design, Emmett worked on his own idea. He handed me a drawing of a city skyline, with a big red ribbon tied around it. " "Wrap City in Hue" he said.
His clever quilt got a lot of attention at the show, but his sister was not to be outdone.  A great little schmoozer--because she is sincere and passionate--she was ready to talk to anyone about her beautiful rainbow quilt. One woman, very impressed, said, "You're going to be a great artist someday."   Violet responded, "I am a great artist."

When do we lose that confidence?

A friend shared the following pertinent excerpt of a newsletter from  Rick Tocquigny. What messages do we inadvertently give our children?  Or impose on ourselves?

"The best career advice to give to the young is to find out what you like doing best and get someone to pay you for doing it."  --Katherine Whitehorn. In the first grade, our tall, red-headed teacher, Cleo Reagon asked us ... "How many artists are in this class?" We all raised our hands.  Four years later, our short, diminutive art instructor, Wanda Helvey, asked the same question and only one-third of the same class responded by raising their hands. By the seventh grade, we were down to one-sixth of the class and finally by our senior year, only two out of the original 25 raised their hands. What happened across twelve years? Had we been sucker punched with self-doubt about our artistic capabilities? At the start of our schooling, our parents gave frequent positive feedback about our artwork as they proudly displayed our renderings on the refrigerator. Somewhere along the path of our elementary education, some person or teacher pointed out a mistake and we started focusing on those comments. The presumed mistakes manifested themselves into, "I can't draw. I'm not an artist." We internalized the criticism and forever gave up on some of the best talent that 2-to-5-year-old children had developed. The majority of artists started listening to other voices and putting more credence in the opinion of their peers versus their own inner voice of confidence. Who has the right to feed you such negativity? The mistake made is in listening to other people. On top of that, the grading process of the arts is questionable. Grading systems point out flaws. Isn't the whole idea of school to learn, grow and become contributing citizens? Life Lesson... Above all else: Listen to your inner voice and have confidence that you can chase your own passion. Foster an intimacy with your own skills and confidently build from your first level of success.  ---------- What you've just read is an excerpt from, Life Lessons - Simple Words that Matter. It was written by Rick Tocquigny, CEO and Chief Servant of Artbeat of America and Gracefully Yours Greeting Cards and the host of the popular blog-talk radio show Life Lessons.