An Apology, Pt. I & 2
Every now and then the occasion of a blog allows one to wax eloquently regarding a point of persuasion. This afternoon of writing is one such moment, and I want to advocate for a higher regard in our homes for literature.
This point might seem superfluous and comical for those of us who have an amorous affair with the written word, and even laughable for any of us homeschooling moms who deplete our schooling budget to line our shelves. (Please – forbear from asking me how many book wish-lists I am currently building on my favorite online bookstores!) So, let me press further to an even more particular point: why is it important to study literature on its own?
In many of our homeschool curriculums, literature is treated as an integrated subject, something that can easily be combined with, say, history. In my years of teaching, though, I’ve come to see this as a loss. Before I explain why, I must acknowledge that there are many wonderful programs out there that offer such an integrated program and it is not my wish to criticize those programs. Rather, I support them as amazing options for a home-study program. Nor do I disregard the many different styles of teaching that families embrace. The beauty of homeschooling is the ability to customize and I am completely convinced that in planning a course of study for children, we must also consider their gifts as well as our own, and the unique character of our family.
In writing this, I simply seek to offer a brief apology for the study of literature on its own merits when possible, to reap its fullness of beauty and truth, and to discern how it can help from a child’s mind to think.
I’ve divided this article into three parts: recognizing the impact of stories, nurturing a love for them in our children’s hearts, and the merits of a good literature program during the dialectic and rhetorical stages of learning. Some practical tips for implementing these ideas are offered in the fourth, and last part.
Part One: Mesmerizing Stories
My husband can attest to the fact that the one item I do not begrudge spending money on is a lovely book. In fact, he has warned me more than once not to cover a wall space with an inspiring painting or practical schooling chart because I’ll need to utilize the area later for a new bookcase. I always protest – quickly running through my list-to-buy in my mind, but he’s always right: usually within a year, another shelf has gone up in that wall covering’s space.
In his Republic, Plato proposed banning the poets. Why? In a manner of speaking, because they move us. A compelling story can change our persuasions before we even realize we’ve adopted a new tenet as our own. A good plot line hooks us, and endearing characters can wrap themselves around our hearts, moving us to tears or laughter. Amazing poetry can offer us a nugget of an idea to ponder for hours, and lyrical prose can remove us from daily drudgery just with its musical sound. Passions should be controlled rather than fostered, he argued, and all poetry – good and bad alike – invites us to imitation.
Stories do indeed entice us with the power they uniquely convey: we are able to learn the truth by experiencing it.
Whereas a lecture or a treatise appeals solely to the intellect with its logic, a story appeals to our whole person: mind, soul, emotions, and passions. Flannery O’Connor wrote that, “the whole story is the meaning, because it is an experience, not an abstraction.” (The Nature and Aim of Fiction, p. 73) She argues further that people of various educations can derive meaning from fiction because all that is required is a “mind that is willing to have its sense of mystery deepened by contact with reality, and its sense of reality deepened by contact with mystery.” (p. 79) Where Plato considers dangers of story-telling, Flannery sees priceless opportunity.
We could speak further, bringing in the works of so many writers, to enlighten the issue. J. R. R. Tolkien, for instance, developed his own philosophy of myth and saw the creation of myth as the nearest form of imitating God’s creation. The point which is made evident by all though is that stories are powerful. We know why: from the child turning the glossy pages of a beautifully illustrated fairy tale to the adult refusing to mind the clock as he grips a page-turner, we feel the pull to experience another world through intricate artistry and characters that sometimes seem more real and engaging than our own acquaintances.
Part Two: Reading for Wonder
I hope my previous section has recalled to mind the incredible impact stories can make on our children (and us!) What constitutes a good story is a matter reserved for other times and places. As long as we’re contemplating the power of a good read and how to channel a book’s impact to influence our children’s schooling, let’s first admit the initial question that springs to everyone’s mind: how do I get my child to love reading?
The joy of reading and the way books can play center stage at invigorating family life is such a hot topic in current homeschooling circles. Admittedly, not only there but in all families is it being discussed if the popularity of Audible and the revival of reading aloud to children is any indication. There are so many tips and booklists available that I want to offer just a couple of quick suggestions.
- 1. Read what is enjoyable.
There are two parts to this achieving this goal, actually. First, as you choose books to add to your home curriculum or reading time with your children, pick ones that fascinate you or the child. Study can become quickly absorbing and stimulating if it is focused on an area of our passions. If you delight in poetry, make sure you dedicate some time each week to reading poetry. Should your student loves mystery, compile a stack of classical books that feature this genre as it developed. You may even organize your entire literature study around such a theme if you are designing your own curriculum. When instructing one of my high school students who was struggling in writing, I purposely focused one semester on stories of heroism and another on detective stories to make the study more engaging and less intimidating for him. We were still able to cover ancient literature through modern, and had immense fun even as we were working studiously to improve certain essay skills.
The second part to this is that we all must read for pleasure! Sometimes, an entertaining read is simply the loveliest conclusion to a chaotic day for me.
A little escape can be much more restorative to my mind in these instances than a plunge into Homeric ideals or a consideration of modern poetry.
(Both are subjects I love to engage with when my intellect has not been nullified by volcanic children and wrecked surroundings.) Our children need those fun, easy reads as well! While I highly encourage an introduction to the classics when they are small to foster a love for more meaningful stories, I’ve also found that they need to exercise their freedom in making some of their own reading choices. How else can they experience that thrill we love of discovering a literary adventure on their own?
- 2. Introduce them to the classics!
Their choices do, of course, need to meet with your approval and you can subtly shape their tastes as they grow older. Often, when I’ve had a title I know my child would love but would either be too intimidated to foray into due to its cover or size, I’ll read the beginning aloud or procure an audio recording of it. Sometimes they end up pulling the book off the shelf and finishing it before we’ve reached the halfway marker on the recording.
Also, as I mentioned earlier, find classics or adaptations with engaging illustrations to read to them even before they are decoding on their own. As people, we always are inclined to sink to the lower denominator; so many times, I’ve have queried of my children, why are you acting like the two-year-old? Well, the answer is simple: because the two year old was present and it was easier to follow them than to set the standard!
Our minds work similarly in regard to our reading; if we largely accustom them to fast-paced, quick reads, then slower, lyrical prose may appear tedious rather than enchanting to us.
Children have an even more difficult time balancing the two types, so it is helpful to emphasize the latter when they are first exploring books. This, of course, can always be done with consideration to their tastes, reading level, and attention span. More often than not, they will surprise you with what they delight in and the meanings they can infer! (See my posts “Captivating Them with the Classics” for specific book suggestions.)
I also find every occasion to gift my children literary treasures, be it birthdays, feast days, or vacations. The excitement of a new present can sometimes transfer to the book itself. Discussing the story with them also adds a new layer of special enjoyment, as it provides an experience of being peers with an adult and special quality time.
What if your older child is especially resistant to your influence of their reading list? That would be me!! Will the rebellious, independent high schooler please stand up? When forced to survey a particular title, I would read the book simply to discover a weakness within it and spite my parents with the deficiency of their taste. The key, again, is balance. When they’re older, they will have much required reading in school and ultimately, discussing their current books with them will itself feed a love for those which are deeper and more expertly crafted.
- 3. A Time for Integration
There is a period where I love to integrate literature with other subjects and this is from the time they will let me turn the pages (which sometimes doesn’t occur much for the first few years!) to the time they are finishing their elementary years, or the grammatical stage. This is the time when children naturally wonder at the world around them: they marvel at the scientific discoveries they make in the backyard and they relish stories of both my childhood and imaginary characters.
According to their personalities, children will express such wonder if different ways but it will always be present. One of my daughters would role play to such a degree at the ages of 3-5 that one of her teachers once called me to come back to my daughter’s class because she was so distraught and unresponsive to their concerned questions; at one question from me, she informed them all that she was pretending to be Cinderella as her stepsisters stripped her of her beautiful dress, but the teachers had not thought to ask which character she was impersonating.
My son, on the other hand, has never developed quite such a love for the fairy story; instead, he discovers numbers and patterns in every avenue of life. He reads books for their page numbers; recently, at a museum exhibit of rare Egyptian treasures, he ran from display case to display case simply to note what the controlled temperature was inside each of them. He probably couldn’t describe any of the artifacts he saw that day, but he could tell you the range of temperatures at which they were kept.
She opens my eyes to the stories that comprise every moment of my life, while he awakens me to the intricate order that governs my moments.
Hence, I feed her imagination with Greek mythology – made tangible for him with a Greek gods and goddesses’ sticker chart – and I play at number finding within books with him, titles that are complemented with humorous drawings for her.
Stories are marvelous ways to explore science, mathematics, history, and theology with our children in these early years. In fact, they make up the bulk of my home curriculum for these courses during this stage. Books can feed their thirst for new experiences when I’m too tired with the babies to stray far from the sofa, and demonstrate the beauty of this world that I may forget to reference in correcting their worksheets.
