"Narrating is an art, like poetry-making or painting, because it is there, in every child's mind, waiting to be discovered, and is not the result of any process of disciplinary education."
~ Charlotte Mason on The Art of Narrating
Kathryn is one smart cookie, and she is a voracious reader. She has an excellent memory, too--when she chooses to use it. Even before she could read, she had several books, like Dr. Seuss's "ABC's" memorized so well that people thought she really was reading fluently at the age of three. She's also quite a talker--just like me. So when we began doing narration, I thought it would be a breeze. I was wrong.
Usually, explaining things to Kathryn works really well for her, and while I don't expect her to think or act like an adult, I don't "dumb things down" for her either. So before we began doing narration last year, we talked about what narration is. After our readings, I asked for her to narrate a little. My brilliant child just stared at me, and said she didn't remember anything about the story. With multiple prompts, she did "tell back" a little, but it felt like pulling teeth. We were both frustrated. That's how it went for a while. Anytime I'd mention narration, she'd clam up.
Eventually I changed tactics and began asking for narration in sneaky ways, going under her little narration radar. I'd wait til much later, while we were on our way to the store or something, and then ask about something she had read, or pretend I'd forgotten something about one of our readings, and most of the time she'd do great! Or at supper, I'd ask her to tell Ken something specific we'd read or done that day. Once she'd gotten better about doing it this way, I started telling her--after the fact--that she'd just done a great narration. Now sometimes she'll even tell me, "That was a little narrating right there, wasn't it?"
I think her perfectionism was getting in the way of narrating because she thought she'd have to tell me everything and she knew she couldn't remember it all. Another way I worked around that is to have her tell me just three things about each chapter she'd read in her free reading books. She often went on to tell me more and do a fabulous narration, but knowing she only had to come up with three facts freed her from thinking she couldn't do a good job. Three was reasonable, and she knew she could do that. I think it helped her realize that narration didn't mean parroting back the entire story.
Recently, Kathryn began her own blog. I think blogging is really just fancy-schmancy, high-tech form of narrating. We've set quite a few rules about her blog, in how I monitor it and so on, but having a blog makes Kathryn feel very grown up; I'm using that motivation for more narrating, and moving into the related territory of composition. We decided that for every field trip we go on, Kathryn will blog about it, and I'm encouraging her to do a brief entry about each free reading book she finishes as well. So far it's going really well.
Usually, explaining things to Kathryn works really well for her, and while I don't expect her to think or act like an adult, I don't "dumb things down" for her either. So before we began doing narration last year, we talked about what narration is. After our readings, I asked for her to narrate a little. My brilliant child just stared at me, and said she didn't remember anything about the story. With multiple prompts, she did "tell back" a little, but it felt like pulling teeth. We were both frustrated. That's how it went for a while. Anytime I'd mention narration, she'd clam up.
Eventually I changed tactics and began asking for narration in sneaky ways, going under her little narration radar. I'd wait til much later, while we were on our way to the store or something, and then ask about something she had read, or pretend I'd forgotten something about one of our readings, and most of the time she'd do great! Or at supper, I'd ask her to tell Ken something specific we'd read or done that day. Once she'd gotten better about doing it this way, I started telling her--after the fact--that she'd just done a great narration. Now sometimes she'll even tell me, "That was a little narrating right there, wasn't it?"
I think her perfectionism was getting in the way of narrating because she thought she'd have to tell me everything and she knew she couldn't remember it all. Another way I worked around that is to have her tell me just three things about each chapter she'd read in her free reading books. She often went on to tell me more and do a fabulous narration, but knowing she only had to come up with three facts freed her from thinking she couldn't do a good job. Three was reasonable, and she knew she could do that. I think it helped her realize that narration didn't mean parroting back the entire story.
Recently, Kathryn began her own blog. I think blogging is really just fancy-schmancy, high-tech form of narrating. We've set quite a few rules about her blog, in how I monitor it and so on, but having a blog makes Kathryn feel very grown up; I'm using that motivation for more narrating, and moving into the related territory of composition. We decided that for every field trip we go on, Kathryn will blog about it, and I'm encouraging her to do a brief entry about each free reading book she finishes as well. So far it's going really well.
" ... For children under nine, the question of composition resolves itself into that of narration, varied by some such simple exercise as to write a part and narrate a part, or write the whole account of a walk they have taken, a lesson they have studied, or of some simple matter that they know. Before they are ten, children who have been in the habit of using books will write good, vigorous English with ease and freedom; that is, if they have not been hampered by instructions."I believe Charlotte Mason was very forward-thinking, and ahead of her time; I think she would have approved of utilizing technology--like blogging--for new ways of teaching, as long as we don't abandon the tried-and-true methods along the way.
