Learning to read and write, December, 1934 - Ursula Wise offers her opinion on this matter whilst recognising that there are many approaches

 December 24, 1930 in The Nursery World

Learning to read and write: some modern methods

I have had a letter form a correspondent who is an advocate of the `Montessori method of teaching and reading and writing, and who appears to feel that I have not done justice to the merits of this method in my recent remarks about it. As the subject is undoubtedly one of general interest, I am quoting extracts from her letter (too long to print as a whole). I am naturally anxious that many readers should feel that in these columns they do get a representative view of such modern methods as have any serious claims to respect. 

But in the end, of course, one judges between rival methods on the evidence as one sees it, and when correspondents ask me to advise them about methods of teaching and reading and writing, I can but offer them the fruit of my own experience with children and my knowledge of the general consensus of opinion among practical teachers and psychologists. 

Here is the letter.

“X” writes: -

            “I noticed in your answers on November 5^ththat you did not seem aware of the value of the sandpaper letters originated by Dr. Montessori. I enclose a short account of the Montessori way of teaching two of the three R’s, as I am sure your correspondents will be interested in it, and will succeed in it, if they will only concentrate on hearing the sounds in words themselves. Adults lose the sensitivity of children. The Montessori way of teaching writing and subsequently reading is very simple, but it does not require to be understood by the adult before she initiates a child into it. Her most delicate work comes at the start. People who embark on it ought to do so because they recognise its superiority and are determined to make a success of it. The Montessori child comes to ‘letters’ accustomed to recognising shapes both through sight and with muscular experience in his play with the geometrical insets and form-cards. His little hand has gained strength and control in using coloured pencils in filling-in the shapes he has himself outlined. He knows something about sound, because in mastering vocal language he has had to listen carefully, and has often been corrected when he has substituted one sound for another in some word he has had to listen. ‘Not “chimley,” “chimney,”’ his mother may, perhaps, have said. The moment having arrived when he wants to learn ‘letters’ his mother takes two of the sandpaper letters, two vowels. She sits down beside him, and she shows him how to touch or trace over the sandpaper of the first one, ‘a’ (pronounced as in ‘at’), and at the same time she makes this sound. The child imitates her in tracing and sanding. Then she does the same for the second letter, ‘e’ (pronounced as in ‘egg’). Again, the child imitates her in the tracing and the sounding. Then the two sandpaper letters lie on the table. ‘Give me the “e.”’ Again the child joyfully offers the right card. Now comes the third stage of this little lesson. The mother takes up one of the cards. “What is this?” she asks, showing one of the letters to the little one. ‘A’ or ‘e’, as the case may be, he answers, and so also with the second one. This whole lesson, given on the plan devised by the Frenchman Seguin, occupies three minutes at most. The child is free to take the sandpaper letters with him and trace and sound at his will. As the lesson comes to an end long before he has begun to tire, at a time when his interest is fresh, there is an impulse to repeat on his own. If the lesson is prolonged, this impulse does not manifest itself. If ‘b’ and ‘d’ are taken next, and are immediately combined with the ‘a’ and ‘e, the transition to whole words comes at once. Some children themselves suggest the consonant sound necessary to convert these beginnings of words into known words, as when a little girl turned ‘be’ into ’bed’, or ‘da’ into ‘dad’. The mother or teacher follows, within the limitations imposed by the child’s incomplete knowledge of the symbols, the child’s lead, always suggesting words which as names of actions and objects are of interest to the child. the effect of hitting upon words which are emotionally interesting to a child is very great. Anyone who has never tried this way can have no idea of the facility of a child of four in analysing words he can say and is interested in into their component sounds, and representing these by movable letters. He will occupy himself thus for long periods with contentment and without strain, because of the exercise involved in fetching and replacing the letters and arranging them in words on his mat.”

This gives a clear account of the initial steps in the Montessori method of teaching reading and writing.

            At various times in these columns I have suggested quite other ways of beginning reading and writing – those that are known as “word-whole” or “look-and-say” methods. In these methods one does not begin with sounds and letters, but with actual names of things and people and actions in which the child is interested. The most natural unit of speech in the young child is the word. There are some psychologists who suggest that the real unit of speech is in fact the sentence, and some very interesting experimental work is now being carried on by one psychologist with a “sentence-whole” method in which the child is taught from the beginning the written forms of short, simple, sentences that are of vital interest to him. Most of us, however, think that the word is a more practicable unit for the young child, although we are awaiting the result of this experiment with great interest. For the young child, of course, a word very often does the duty of the sentence. “Down’ may mean “I want to go down “; “Out” “I want to go out.” Even “Daddy,” when said with an expressive gesture, may mean “Lift me up” or “Come along and play with me.” In any case, all through his early years the child has a great passion for naming all the things around him, and clearly gets a delightful sense of power from knowing the names of things.

Concentration (undated) - Ursula Wise speaks of violating ‘the normal laws’ of a child’s growth

Concentration

Is it a habit that can be acquired?

“Concentrate” writes: “I have no particular trouble I’m pleased to say but would like advice on the following points:

(1)    Concentration. A small girl friend of ours has just commenced school at our local High School. The teacher says she is a very bright child, but will not concentrate. Now, I’m wondering if this state of affairs is ‘quite the usual’ and with careful training the child will learn to concentrate when she is older. To me it seems such an important point in a child’s training. I have a small girl of three, who, like all healthy kiddies, is very busy and active. What I would like to know is ‘can I’ or ‘how can I’ train her to concentrate? Daddy says, leave her ‘quite free’, but is it best to leave matters to take their own course?

(2)        Toys. Can a child have too many of the simple variety? We seem to have collected such a lot – a doll’s pram, dolls, tea set, iron, rolling-pin, etc., a really nice counting frame, balls, bricks, a lovely piece of old blanket, which is a work of art with its bright wool stitches, and so I seem to be able to go on and on. If I turn out the toy box I hardly know which to dispose of, as they are all loved. Usually the toys are brought out a few at a time, then the ‘stale’ ones go back and a few fresh ones come out. I’m quite certain I this particular case the apparently large number of toys is not destroying the creative impulse; rather than the reverse. Several of my friends allow their children ‘half a dozen toys and no more,’ but I think one can err in this direction. I think my question of concentration will be of general interest, and if you could answer through ‘The Nursery World’ columns I should be grateful.”

As you suggest, a great many people worry themselves about this question of teaching children to concentrate, but as a rule the whole problem tends to be wrongly conceived. We can’t teach concentration in the way we can teach reading and writing. Concentration means one of two things: either being so interested in what one is doing that one has no thought for anything else, or being able to go on doing something that is not in itself enthrallingly interesting, but is done for some further end which has a real value of its own. Now, the first form of concentration is undoubtedly the most valuable. All the great creative achievements of men and women in art and music and literature and science and sport are achieved because they are of absorbing and spontaneous delight. They have not sprung from a will or act of concentration, but from their inherent attraction. Now, the child, at any rate over five or six years, shows plenty of concentration of this kind. He can be completely absorbed in his building or modelling or games or make-believe, or in listening to story or to music. The other kind of situation in which one has to do dull or irksome or routine work that has no appeal of its own, but is part of a larger whole which has an intrinsic value, plays a very large part in the world too, of course. Every mother, every nurse, every business man, and even the artist and scientist, have plenty of drudgery as well as creative delight. But the drudgery and the ability to go on with the dull routine are only really possible for us when we have some further attractive purpose to serve. The mother slaves for her children’s welfare. The business man, the engineer, the scientist, know well that they cannot gain their greater ends without the dull routine. And yet none even of us grown-ups, unless we were stupid, or machine-like in our own natures, or except when driven by economic considerations, could carry out continuous drudgery that did not serve some greater end that we valued. 

Of course, the child has to learn to be able to carry on routine activities that have no intrinsic appeal if he is to be able to achieve the greater ends and if he is to hold his place in the world. But it is useless to expect him to “concentrate” in a vacuum.

Questions of Education, June 1930 - a father asks Ursula Wise for advice on the best time to teach his child French.

January 22, 1930 in The Nursery World

Questions of Education

“A Father” inquires: - “I should very much like to hear what you think of how early one can begin teaching French to little children. Do you think it would be a good thing to do so right from the time when they are learning to talk? We were told the other day of someone who did that, and my wife and I have been talking it over, and wondering if it would be wise. Do you think there could be any objections? One HAS to begin quite early if one wants a decent accent.”

You have raised a most interesting problem, and one that is being investigated by psychologists at this moment. There are, of course, many children who have to be bi-lingual from the start, as, e.g., children in Wales, or those of English families abroad. And it is certainly an advantage from the point of view of accent and fluency in a foreign tongue to begin speaking it quite early. But there is some evidence to suggest that “early” should not be tooearly, and that a child should have a chance to find his way about one language successfully before he begins any others, unless circumstances make it unavoidable. If he has the double problem right from the start, it is quite possible that this extra burden may hold back his general mental development. The evidence for this is not yet quite final and certain, but enough so to justify one in avoiding the risk of such an ill effect if one can. 

As it happens, a case came under my own notice recently which does seem to bear out the view that it is unwise to introduce a second language right from the beginning of speech. This was a boy of four, a large and clumsy child, who was very much behind his age in balance and skill and all forms of control, and particularly in ability to express himself in words. He could not build a tower of bricks without it falling over, and he used to cry pathetically, “Oh, whydoes it fall over?” Everything he touched seemed to go wrong, and he vented his exasperation and sense of helplessness in a piercing squeal. He would just sit and open his mouth wide and let the squeal come out! Any sort of excitement, whether anger of joy, made him do this. It came much easier to him than speech. And he was very aggressive to other children. He could not pass another child without hitting him, and was, as you will imagine, an acute problem in the group of little children he was among. This was the boy as I knew him at just four years of age. And he hadbeen made to speak French as well as English right from the very beginning! His parents were both English and they lived in England; but his father never spoke anything but French to him. Now I don’t suggest that the whole of this backwardness in development can be blamed on the double language burden that had been put upon the child; but it was clear that this had not made things any easier for him. He was not equal to the double demand, and his only way out was to fall back on the squealing cries of his babyhood. It was pleasant to see that as his skill and poise developed under good conditions, and he thus felt more sure of himself, he grew both more friendly and happy, and more able to express his feelings and his views in words. The squeals happened less and less often, and then not at all. But his case does seem to help to confirm the view that it is better to postpone a second language until the child is at home in his own first. Six or seven years of age is probably quite early enough. 

  

The teaching of number, January 1934 - Ursula Wise says it is all about approach and context - so many children are put off in their early years.

January 17, 1934 in The Nursery World

The Teaching of Number 

“X. Y. Z.” writes: - “How soon do you think I ought to begin to teach my little boy of three, who seems to be quite ordinarily intelligent, to count? I heard of a boy not much older who was doing little sums with his governess. Do you think this is a good thing, and if so, how should I teach him?” 

The question of the age at which we should begin to introduce arithmetical ideas to young children is really bound up with the question of howwe should do it. Everything does depend upon how we go about it. 

            In the first place, all those who have been studying little children to see how they do learn to use arithmetical notions are agreed that formal lessons are quite useless in the early years. Indeed, they are worse than useless because they teach the child that arithmetic is dull and dreary; and once that emotional attitude towards the subject has been set up it is extremely difficult to change. It has been found that more children get held up in their understanding if number from emotional reasons than happens with any other subject of the school curriculum. Fear and boredom are the two biggest factors in backwardness in arithmetic among school children. It is easy to make minor mistakes of presentation in showing the chid how to add or subtract or divide, but these do not matter in comparison with the fundamental mistake of associating arithmetic with a notion of duty or boredom or anxiety. It is very difficult for even the best teaching later on to break down such an attitude once it has been built up. The very first essential is, therefore, to make sure that from the very beginning our methods are such as to let the child feel the natural interest of number relations between things, and to discover their practical value in his own active interest and pursuits. 

The need for exercise, 1930 - Ursula Wise reminds us that “some form of destructive action must be provided for vigorous children."

January 8, 1930 in The Nursery World 

The need for exercise

“D.L." (Anerley) asks: “My little boy is four years old next March, and for some months he has been very difficult to manage, and as he gets still more difficult as the weeks go by, I feel that probably I am not treating him the best way. So, would you please tell me the names of one or two inexpensive books on general training? Why is he so destructive? I’m sure he hasn’t a breakable toy left or a picture -book whole. I have followed various suggestions. I give him newspapers to do as he likes with and he has his own scissors, for one thing.”

            Many children, especially boys, do tend to become very destructive about this age. There are several things to remember in trying to deal with it. First of all, it is an undoubted fact that a certain amount of destructiveness is quite normal and healthy in these years. The quick, explosive action of knocking things down or breaking them is so much easier to the untrained muscles of the young child. It is a definite relief to him, faced as he is with all the complicated business of learning control of his body and of his social behaviour. Some form of destructive action must be provided for vigorous children. it is an error to imagine that they can all the time be making the effort of handling things in just the right way or of building things up. The problem thus becomes one of finding useful ways of letting them enjoy the pleasures of destruction. The scissors and newspapers which you have already given to your boy are certainly excellent, but not enough for him. They would not be enough in themselves for any healthy growing young child, for the simple reason that they use only the smaller muscles of the fingers and wrists. And what children need so much in these years is plenty of the larger swinging movements of arm and shoulder and hip. If they don’t have enough of these, children will always show signs of nervous tension and be restless and difficult.