Читать книгу The Art of Story-Telling, with nearly half a hundred stories - Julia Darrow Cowles - Страница 11

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In the primary grades of the schools, stories may be told as a relaxation, as an incentive to learning to read, and as a means of enlarging the vocabulary of the little people and thereby giving them greater freedom of self-expression. In the more advanced grades the story is used to awaken interest in new subjects, to fix the essentials of a lesson, and to cultivate a taste for the best in literature. But in all the grades, as well as in the home, it may be made the means of carrying home a lesson or of clinching a truth.

The use of the story in the primary grades coincides in some degree with its use in the home, but it goes much further. The old method of primary teaching whereby a child was made by laborious exercises to learn to read in order that he might be able in later years to enjoy the treasures of literature, has undergone a radical and healthful change. Under the former method, the child, through the barrenness of his labor, was often discouraged in his attempt to master reading, and he had but a dim idea at best of the benefit which was to accrue to him from learning.

Under present methods, the child, before he is given any of the laborious drill work—which is as essential as ever to his learning to read for himself—is told stories, is led into the beautiful realms of literature, and is made to realize what is in store for him when he has mastered the technical difficulties of reading. After that, the drills and the oral stories are carried on together, and the stories form a tempting incentive to hard work upon the drills. Children are willing to work, and to work hard, if they see a desirable object to be attained.

The primary teacher who makes judicious use of stories in her class room lays hold upon one of the most efficient aids to successful work. But when a story has been told to the children, it has but half served its purpose. If it was worth telling, it is worth remembering; and there is no means by which the story may be so thoroughly impressed upon the child’s mind as by his telling it himself.

The first advantage gained lies in the fact that if the child knows that he is likely to be called upon to re-tell the story, he will listen more intently, more acutely. This in itself helps him, because he learns to be attentive, and to concentrate his thoughts. When he tries to re-tell the story, if he has not grasped the essentials or cannot follow the sequence, then he will have to listen again—more carefully, this time—and he will have shown wherein he needs help.

With very young children, it is a good plan to talk the story over, after it has been told, bringing out the essential facts, and so forming a framework or outline upon which the child can more readily rebuild the story.

The opportunity which the reproduction of a story affords of helping the child to express himself in clear, correct English, and to enlarge his vocabulary, is of exceptional value. At the same time his absorption in the story itself overcomes his timidity or self-consciousness to a wonderful degree, and often arouses a child from a dull lethargy of indifference.

Again, no reading lesson will admit of the freedom of expression in face, tone, and general attitude which the telling of a story permits. Why? Because the child enjoys it. It is a natural thing to him, while reading, in the early grades, is unnatural.

Teachers should be careful not to let the children who are eager to re-tell the story, monopolize the time. It is those who are shy and backward who need the exercise most. The eager ones may lead the way, but the shy ones should be encouraged to follow.

Dramatization goes a step farther than reproduction. The dramatizing or playing of a story makes it take on life and reality for the child. When he hears a story read or told he forms a mental picture which is more or less hazy and easily dispelled. When he has for himself played the story, assumed one of the characters, and acted its part, then the thought of the story becomes crystallized. He grasps its meaning, sees its beauty, understands its truth, and remembers it. This intensifying of his mental pictures results in more expressive reading as well as in better language work and in greater power of self-expression.

Another distinct advantage gained through dramatizing is the bringing of the life of literature into direct contact with the child’s life, and so causing all literature to become more real and vital.

The play—for so it seems to the child—forms a connecting link between the home or play-life to which he has been accustomed, and the new and strange life of the school. It helps to banish diffidence, and to establish a familiar atmosphere and a spirit of fellowship with the teacher and the other pupils. It is also a source of pure joy to the child, and “the education that brings joy along with careful and exact training is better than the kind that omits the joy.” Would that every teacher might remember this!

It need hardly be said that while dramatizing in the schoolroom may be helpful and vitalizing when under the control of a teacher who recognizes its educational value, it may, on the other hand, become inane and even silly if used simply as an amusement or as a time-filler.

While much of the value of dramatizing must depend upon the insight and oversight of the teacher, much also depends upon the selection of material. “Not what may be dramatized, but what should be.”

If a teacher has clearly before her the thought of why we dramatize, then the question of what to dramatize will be more readily determined.

Stories of nature, in which the children represent birds, bees, flowers, the wind, the seasons, are all useful for the purpose. Such stories quicken the imagination and bring the child into closer relationship with out-door life.

An especially good example of a story to dramatize is the “Lesson of Faith,” in the first chapter of this book. Teachers will find this story especially appropriate to their Easter exercises.

After the story has been told often enough for the children to become familiar with its thought and outline, let some little girl represent the Caterpillar, and another the Butterfly. Have a boy represent the Lark, and eight or ten other children the butterfly eggs.

Begin the dramatizing by having this last group of children curl themselves down quietly together, while the little girl who represents the Caterpillar moves slowly about near them. Then let the Butterfly, slowly moving her wings, settle beside the Caterpillar and address her, telling her of the little eggs, and asking her to care for them. Then have the Butterfly droop her wings and become quiet, as though dead. It is best, then, to allow this child to resume her seat while the others carry on the little play.

Next have the Caterpillar indulge in her soliloquy, and presently the Lark should come flying to her side. Then follows the dialogue between the two, the Lark flying away and returning as described in the story.

As the Caterpillar declares that the Lark is making fun of her when he tells her that she will one day be a butterfly herself, have the little butterfly eggs—now caterpillars—begin to move about, one brushing against her, and let them begin to nibble as though eating.

After the Caterpillar has shown her great surprise, have her show her great joy at learning that the Lark’s message is true. Then she should go to one or two of the children in the seats, who represent the Caterpillar’s friends, and tell them the great good news which she has learned.

They are to show their unbelief of what she has said.

Next have these friends come to her and tell her that it is time for her to form her chrysalis and die.

Then the Caterpillar becomes very still, the little green caterpillars, meanwhile, eating and moving about very quietly.

As the final act of the little drama, have the Butterfly emerge from her chrysalis, spread her wings, and fly away.

This story answers perfectly to the requirements of dramatization, and it is clearly not one which may be dramatized, but one which should be. The children who take part, and those who look on at the little play, will have their mental conception of the story, which was first given in words only, intensified; made real and lasting.

When children imitate, say, the robin or the crow, see that their motions accord with those of the bird represented—have them hop like the robin, or walk like the crow. The eagle and the swallow fly poised on outstretched wing, while the humming bird’s wings move rapidly. All these differences, if noted, teach the children to observe. If a child makes a mistake, such as hopping when representing the crow, do not tell him what his mistake is, but have him find out before the next day how the crow moves when on the ground. This is of especial value if he can have an opportunity of watching a crow for himself, since it teaches him to observe closely; to use his own eyes.

Fairy and folk tales afford excellent material for dramatizing, as do some of the familiar mythological stories. They quicken the child’s imagination by helping him to understand the personification of the forces of nature, and this understanding is greatly helped if he not only hears and reads the stories, but plays them as well.

The story of Midas is well adapted for dramatizing. Choose a boy to represent the avaricious king, and another boy for Bacchus, who bestows upon him the golden touch. Other children, either boys or girls, may be selected to typify the apple tree and the rose bush—moving their leaves in the breeze till stiffened by Midas’ touch. A little girl must, of course, personify Midas’ little daughter.

After all these have been turned to gold, Midas visits Bacchus and implores his aid in getting rid of the fatal power which has been given to him. Then he returns with joy and restores the apple tree, the rose, and, best of all, his own little daughter, to life. The details of the story will have to be worked out according to the version chosen, but the story is too well known and too readily found, to make it worth while to give it in detail here.

The reproduction of a story also through constructive mediums—clay modeling, painting, or paper cutting—helps the child to a physical application of the knowledge which he has gained, and so strengthens the impression which has been made.

A little further on, when lessons in nature study, geography, and history are about to be introduced, the child can be led into them almost unconsciously, through talks and stories of nature, of travel, of foreign countries, and of biography and history. Under this method of teaching, children are made to realize that history is a narrative of real events, directed by people who did great things, great enough for the whole country or the whole world to be interested in, and the men of history become heroes of flesh and blood; geography steps out from between the covers of a book and becomes a multiplied home, the home of many people and of many races, each home possessing characteristics which interest and appeal to the child; nature study becomes an introduction to new friends clothed in feathers and fur.

When stories are reproduced in the school room the work should not be undertaken as a formal language drill. The story should be left to make its appeal to the childish imagination and should then be expressed in his own words. Let the exact drill upon words be done with sentences which are designed for that purpose, but let the reproduction of any story which is worthy of a place in literature be a spontaneous expression upon the part of the child, so that the life and beauty of the story may be preserved to him. A story loses its grace and its ethical value when hammered into a rigid form of words. Word drill is right and proper in its place, but the reproduction of a worth-while story demands that the thought be kept living and active, and the form of expression free.