Essential Questions

by Graham Scharf

How do parents inspire their children?

October 24, 2009

0 comments // Published in virtue, children's literature, parenting, stories  

Journey to the end of the world
Near the end of C.S. Lewis' great adventure The Voyage of the Dawn Treader, the crew of the small Narnian ship bound for "the end of the world" encounters a crisis of leadership. Many of the ship's sailors are tempted to stay on a comfortable island rather than complete their quest to sail to the end of the world.
"At this point [King] Caspian jumped to his feet. 'Friends,' he said, 'I think that you have not quite understood our purpose. You talk as if we had come to you with our hat in our hand, begging for shipmates. It isn't like that at all. We and our royal brother and sister and their kinsman and Sir Reepicheep, the good knight, and the Lord Drinian have an errand to the world's edge. It is our pleasure to choose from among such as are willing those whom we deem worthy of so high an enterprise. We have not said that any can come for the asking. That is why we shall now command the Lord Drinian and Master Rhince to consider carefully what men among you are the hardest in battle, the most skilled seamen, the purest in blood, the most loyal to our person, and the cleanest in life and manners; and to give their names to us in a schedule.'" (p181)
Parenting "isn't like that at all"
Although it may feel at times that parenting is the business of begging our children to behave, it isn't like that at all. It is, on the contrary, doing precisely what King Caspian did by clarifying a great vision, inspiring allegiance, and raising expectations. If we feel that we are simple bound to bring our bedraggled entourage of children with us through life, that is exactly what it will be - a pitiful and bedraggled entourage. Great literature - like the Chronicles of Narnia, fulfill exactly that role. It is difficult to read the Voyage of the Dawn Treader without feeling inspired by Reepicheep's valor - and quite ashamed of my own cowardice. I defy anyone to read Laura Ingalls Wilder's Little House series, without being inspired by the tenacity, creativity, and resilience of her pioneering family.  

The role of great children's literature
Great literature enables us to lead. It commends virtue and honor in a way that no amount of nagging ever has or will. Yet it is not only for our children's sake; it does the same thing to us! There are a very few people who are born leaders, who can cast vision and inspire contribution without any assistance. For the rest of us, there are tomes of fantastic literature that can lead us there - and enable us to inspire our children.

Is it possible to avoid lenses?

September 29, 2009

0 comments // Published in lenses, stories, relationship  

Why do we stress quantifiable facts?
In contemporary American life, we reverence “facts.” When asking questions in public discourse, we want, “Just the facts, ma’am.” For example, in an article in The Economist titled Child Welfare: The Nanny State, the journalist took pains to be scientific: “With its stress on quantifiable facts, the spirit of the OECD report differs from one by UNICEF, the UN children’s agency, in 2007 which made waves by saying children in Britain did badly.” The tacit assumption is that quantifiable facts are equally compelling to people of every lens. There is often little or no recognition that our assumptions, our lenses, shape the way that we see and make sense of the facts.

Is a journalist wrong for having a perspective?
The point is not to shame this particular journalist for having a lens. On the contrary, it is only possible to see anything at all from a particular vantage point. Not to have a lens is not to see; it is to be blind. To claim that you see and claim not to have a lens is like a line judge at Wimbledon’s Center Court claiming to know where the ball landed on court 4 at the French Open. It is simply ludicrous. The reason that we recognize his authority on Wimbledon’s Center Court is because he has an excellent perspective, and he has trained his eyes to carefully watch and judge balls traveling over 100 miles per hour. Not only are lenses inescapable, they are most valid and helpful when they recognize the limits of their own view.

What does this mean for parents?
We form assumptions about the way the world is and the way it ought to be on the context of human relationships and stories. Parents play a critical role because their relationship with their child is the primary relationship in which the child learns to make sense of the world. Of course there are other relationships, other stories and other influences. Indeed, parents play the primary role in engaging or rejecting the multitude of relationships, stories and influences on their children. Recognizing this influence and responsibility is the first step to using it well.

What hero stories do parents tell children?

August 5, 2009

0 comments // Published in hero, stories  

Be the Hero
Today my friend Noah Blumenthal is launching his new book, Be the Hero, a book on the stories we tell ourselves, and how they shape the way that we respond to circumstances - and the way that we plan ahead as a result of these stories. If you're wondering how much the stories we tell ourselves matter, I'd highly recommend Noah's book. 

Why today (August 4, 2009)?
Today is the day to buy! Since the book already hit #23 on the Amazon bestseller list, Noah is donating 50% of today's royalties to the Miami Children's Hospital. If it hits the New York Times best seller list (which counts purchases through Saturday), 100% of the royalties from this week to Miami Children's.

Who are your heroes?
A few days ago I picked up a biography of Eric Liddell, the famed runner portrayed by Ian Charleson in the Oscar-winning film, Chariots of Fire. I couldn't put it down. Of course, I knew the story celebrated in the film: Liddell refused to run in preliminary heats of the 100m of the 1924 Paris Olympics because they were held on a Sunday (even though he was a gold-medal contender). Instead he entered the the 400m, for which he had never trained, and won the gold medal, setting a new world record.

What I had forgotten since I read this biography the first time is all of the reasons that Eric is a hero to me. On one occasion he ran against a black athlete (which was uncommon for the time for reasons of historic racism and segregation). Eric not only continued his habit of shaking the hands of the other runners and wishing them well, he took off his own warmups and gave them to the black runner, who had none. 

After winning the gold medal in Paris in 1924, Eric set out as a missionary to China, turning down the opportunity to train train full-time for the next Olympics. And although he was not invited to run for Great Britian in 1928, in that same year he turned in times at the South Manchurian Railway celebrations that would have earned him the gold in both the 200m and 400m at the Amsterdam Olympics - and that without significant training!

And for those who think that Eric was uptight and self-righteous not to run on a Sunday, there is more to the story. While serving in China, he was "interned" by the Japanese in a prison camp, where he died just two months before the camp was liberated on May 2, 1945. In that camp, Eric refereed football (soccer) matches for the children in the camp, who were only allowed to play sports on Sunday. He would not run for his own acclaim on a Sunday - much to the consternation of many of his fellow Scots, but was willing on Sunday after Sunday to be a referee for children. This was not lost on the children who were imprisoned with Eric. They rightly regarded him as a hero of the first order - as I do.


Where would we be without biographies of heroes to lift our eyes and change our horizons? Who are your heroes? How do you tell your children hero tales? How do your heroes influence the stories you tell yourself about what really matters?

How does children's literature help children to see?

July 31, 2009

1 comment // Published in stories  

Lecturing or loving?
The words and actions that communicate values to children in the context of relationships are most helpfully expressed in stories. As a first-time teacher in a “school in need of improvement” I could express myself clearly in words, and was quite consistent in my actions. And yet the most crucial piece of communication was missing for connecting with my students: stories. It was the difference between lecturing and loving. I had yet to learn this lesson from Gladys Hunt: "How would you best be enlightened to some truth? Is it by being told that it was wrong and nasty and thoughtless to others, or to meet and come to love some character in a story and then feel her hurts when someone is unkind and says cruel things?" This was the missing piece. The character I came to love was in The Story of Ruby Bridges by Robert Coles. In a historical picture book, Coles captures the power of one little girl's family to affect the history of the United States. Through this story, and in the person of Ruby Bridges, I and my students could begin to feel how deeply our actions truly matter.

What story do stories tell?
 Indeed, stories play a critical role in the hands of parents to influence the way a child sees the world. Silly books like Sandra Boynton's board books for toddlers express the joy of playful language. Kevin Henkes' brilliantly told and illustrated stories of mice provide ways of seeing typical challenges like stage fright in Lilly's Big Day, the arrival of a new sibling in Julius the Baby of the World, or the peculiarities of friends in Chester's Way. Max Lucado's world of little wooden people called Wemmicks have helped many children and their parents to see where they seek to find their identity. Stories are, perhaps, the most efficient and powerful way of communicating a way of seeing the world.

What are the stories that have shaped the way you see the world? Which are the ones which you are eager to share with your children?

How do children learn?

May 7, 2009

0 comments // Published in lenses, stories  

There has been a tremendous amount of brain research to document that neurological processes that characterize brain development. However, a non-scientist can readily observe the process by which children learn in the first few years.

Learning by Absorbing
During the first few years of life, a child is being nurtured - intentionally or unintentionally - in to a shared way of life. Lesslie Newbigin, a gifted anthropologist, describes human development in this way:
"All of these things are part of a larger entity which we usually call a culture - a whole way of understanding and ordering things which is embodied in language, story and all the forms of social life which are made possible through a shared language and a shared story. Most of this we learn, or perhaps one might say absorb, during the first few years of our lives as we learn to talk, to read, and to share in the common story of our people. Normally we simply take it for granted. We are not conscious of it. Like the lenses of our spectacles, it is not something we look at, but something through which we look to see the world."
Children don't need to be intentional about absorbing. It is simply the nature of the stage of their development. They absorb the common story of their people. In this parents function as the chief storytellers. Although parents may not think of themselves as storytellers, they are the gatekeepers of stories. The books, movies, television programs, etc. that they choose (or permit) profoundly shape the developing lens of a young child.

Lenses: That Through Which We Look
What is remarkable about spectacles is that we are rarely attentive to their contours. We wear glasses (or contact lenses!) so close to our eyes that we don't look at them, but through them. During the early years of life, children's lenses develop. What is "normal" in their experience (for example, yelling or respectful dialogue) shapes the way that they see the world. Through the language and stories they absorb, they explore the meaning of things.

What is the shared language and shared story that you are communicating to your children? How are you shaping the lenses through which they see the world?

Is your story satisfying?

April 23, 2009

0 comments // Published in stories, questions  

When you sit down with a piece of children's literature, you have a framework by which to judge it. Whether those criteria are well-considered or entirely implicit, there are some things that an experience with a book enjoyable, and others that make it unenjoyable. The pressing question is whether the story is satisfying.

The Criteria
Two of the criteria for a satisfying book I have already mentioned. Is it authentic? That is, does it correspond to the world as you really know it? And is it comprehensive? Does it treat one aspect of human experience well, but leave others lacking? If a piece of literature fails to meet these criteria, it won't be satisfying.

Now that obviously doesn't mean that a book of fantasy, even a book of children's fantasy, can't be satisfying. Think of Harold and the Purple Crayon. It is not authentic in the sense that a child can use a purple crayon to create their own adventures; yet it is authentic in the sense that the story it tells of Harold's adventures correspond to the way creativity works in the world.

Intuition
Beyond these criteria, intuition plays an important role in deciding what is satisfying. We may love a book and not be able to pinpoint what it was that made it so satisfying; or we may utterly despise a book and yet not be able to put into words what made it objectionable. Far from discounting the criteria of satisfaction, intuition shows just how important it is - even when we can't put it into words.

Your story
What is true of children's literature is also true of the stories with which we make sense of the world around us. How do we explain to our children why they ought to do one thing, and not another?  If the story that we tell does not have integrity (authenticity) and breadth (comprehensiveness), our kids intuit it (they're dissatisfied), and will look for a more satisfying story to understand their experiences.

The fact is, you may not be satisfied with your story. It may be that you have a deep sense that the story you've received from your family or community isn't satisfying. For example, the language that dominates the discussion of education is that of performance and productivity. President Obama frames education in terms of preparing workers for an economy. Is that a satisfying story? Does that invigorate learning, virtue and innovation? Will our kids find it compelling and satisfying?

Is your story comprehensive?

March 17, 2009

0 comments // Published in lenses, stories  

Being described as a "shallow" person is a painful epithet. Likewise, we use the word "flat" to describe a character in a book or movie that lacks depth. We long to see someone who responds virtuously to a wide range of experiences, from painful to ecstatic. The people who gracefully handle both we rightly call heroes. We look for them in literature and in life, because their way of being can handle both the hard and the easy.

What makes us long for depth?
Why are these kinds of characters so appealing? And why is a flat character or a shallow person so repulsive? We want a way of seeing the world and being in the world that is comprehensive. It relates back to the first question Is the story authentic? To be authentic is to correspond to the way the world really is. To be truly authentic, it must also be comprehensive. It cannot just correspond to one part of the world, but to the world in its entirety.

Can your story handle adversity?
There are many children's books that have a small, simple plot. Yet as they grow up, children what more than, "Where's Spot?" They want a problem that looks more like the real world, and has a satisfying solution. The books that children (and adults) love - the books that endure as classics - offer problems that reflect the complexity of the real world, and resolutions that reflect the reality of this world.

What is the story that shapes your lens?
One of the challenges and privileges of parenting is realizing that your story is too small. It worked for you when you didn't have to think about what was important to impart to your children. But when you consider it carefully, you find it lacking. This is good news! This is the test of comprehensiveness at work. You may well find that the story that defines your life isn't comprehensive enough for the experience of parenting. If there are gaps that you're not aware of, your children will be sure to point them out as they grow up.

The point is not to hide from or deny these gaps, but to seek a way of seeing the world that has integrity, and is comprehensive. It will involve asking many honest questions. The integrity of asking those questions, and admitting when you don't have an answer, is precisely what will communicate the importance of integrity to your children.

Is your story authentic?

March 13, 2009

1 comment // Published in stories, questions, lenses  

When you walk into the library and begin browsing the shelves of the children's section to find books to read with your child, you have a set of criteria - conscious or unconscious - that shape your selections. Each of us has criteria that makes some books winners, and others losers. Those criteria determine whether you will want to give a book to a friend's child as a birthday gift - or if you'd put it in the recycling bin if you received it as a gift.

Is your story authentic?
Perhaps the first question that should be asked, both of the children's literature you select, and of the story that defines who you are is: Is it authentic? In other words: Does it correspond to the way things really are?

If you walk into the kitchen and find milk poured out all over the floor, and you ask your five year old, "What happened?" and he says, "The cat spilled it," your first question is whether this explanation corresponds to reality. If you don't have a cat, it is unlikely that the child's story is true. When we, or a child, tell a story that doesn't correspond to reality, we call that deceit. It isn't just the stories our children tell us. If you tell your child that there is a surprise waiting for him when he finishes his dinner, and there is no surprise, he will quickly call your bluff. The story didn't correspond to the way things really are. It was deceitful.

Children's literature functions much the same way. Each author presents us with a book that expresses certain assumptions about the way things are, and the way they ought to be. If we see that, in the form of a story, they express something authentic - something that corresponds to the way the world really is - it resonates with us and touches us. These are the authors, like Patricia Polacco, to whom we return again and again, because the stories are authentic. They may well be fictional stories, but what they communicate rings true because they are authentic.

Not just children's literature
It is easy to see how this functions with children's literature. We just won't keep picking up books by authors that we think are presenting a distorted view of reality. Yet the same question, "Is it authentic?" is not limited to children's literature, but is a helpful question for evaluating the story, the system of meaning, that we communicate to our children.

Raising children forces these questions upon us: What do we want for our children? What is the meaning that shapes our family, and our existence? Many who were raised in the United States would answer, "I want for my children to have a better life than I have had." Then comes the question, "What do you mean by a better life?" Does it mean having a bigger house? Or living in a better neighborhood? Or going to a better school?

Are these answers authentic? Do they correspond to the way things really are? Are people with bigger houses happier? Are those in nicer neighborhoods more contented? Are those in better schools more virtuous?

For those who have never pressed these questions, they can be disturbing. They cause us to question whether the story that we have received, and that we embody, is authentic. Does it tell the truth about the way things are? Does it fit with my feelings of great delight in watching a falcon fly, or swimming in a clear, still lake? Does it account for why I can be so angry about injustice - or so indifferent to it?

These sorts of questions, although challenging and sometimes painful, are necessary for parents who desire to impart to their children a way of seeing and being in the world that is authentic.

How does family shape a child's lens?

February 25, 2009

0 comments // Published in lenses, stories  

Everyone seems to agree that early childhood is critical for children. There are hosts of studies that show the developmental and health impacts of the way that parents provide nurture. So it is wise to ask why this period is so critical. Is it simply because habits are ingrained during this time? Is it because of the nature and speed of brain development during this period? Or is there something else?

What role do stories play in child development?
In the earliest years of life, each child learns to make sense of the world. You can watch a toddler trying to stack blocks, and finding that only when the blocks are directly on top of one another will they remain standing. By this trial and error, he is learning something about the way the world is.

Just as important as experimentation in early childhood is listening. The child is absorbing the messages he hears about what is acceptable and unacceptable, what is valuable to her parents, and why these things are so. The pervasive "Why?" of the toddler years is part of the diligent quest to understand the way things are, and ought to be.

For this reason, stories play a critical role. Certainly they diversity of vocabulary affects brain development, as two Kansas researchers have documented. Yet the story that parents tell their children is just as important as the stories they read and tell together because it provides framework within which the stories are understood. The story is the way that parents make sense of the world, and communicate it to their children.

Think, for example of the story that the King family told to Martin Luther King Jr. Did they tell him that segregation was simply the way things are? Or that because it was wrong, they ought to rise up and riot? The Kings raised their children to understand that there is injustice in the world and that there are wise, faithful and powerful ways to overcome it. Far more important than the big words that he learned from his father was the overarching story that shaped the King family. If Martin had developed the same rhetorical powers in a family that cherished anger and violence or simply accepted the status quo, who knows how different our nation's history might have been.

The pressing questions for parents are: What is the story you are telling your children? Are you satisfied with the stories you have been told? How are you intentionally communicating the story that you want your children to embrace?

Learning from stories

May 2, 2008

0 comments // Published in stories, parenting  

William Carlos Williams, doctor and poet, counseled Robert Coles, then only a medical student, on how to interact with his patients:

“Their story, yours, mine - it’s what we carry with us on this trip we take, and we owe it to each other to respect our stories and learn from them.” (The Call of Stories p30)

His observation carries weight for parents in the art of parenting. Truly listening to children’s stories, and preserving them for the future, is a powerful way of respecting and learning from our stories. Tumblon makes recording, preserving and sharing those stories simple and fun so families can enjoy and learn from those stories for years to come.

Stories: the unifying thread

May 1, 2008

0 comments // Published in literature, stories  

 

When I was a third-grade teacher, I read The Story of Ruby Bridges to my students as often as I could, and every time it reduced me to tears. I was aware that in this story there was something precious and beautiful that touched the depths of who I am, and could do the same with my young students. This story affected me in those ways because through stories we recognize, construct, and communicate meaning.

Young children are no exception; they tell stories, although it is not uncommon to see parents tune them out or shut them down because the stories seem nonsensical. However, these children, like their parents, are simply seeking a story that makes sense of their experiences. These early stories can be as profoundly insightful as they are simple, if we will listen attentively. For children are continually constructing meaning, and the most natural way do it is through stories.

Parents are even more involved in story-telling. Whether we invent original stories or poems, watch them on television or in a theater, recite oral family histories, or read to our children, we are constantly communicating meaning. We are expressing a story about the way things really are. This is the very nature of literature, of art, and of life: to construct and express meaning. The quality of those stories we hear and tell, both in form and content, inevitably shapes the form and content of our children’s stories. They learn (or fail to learn) the art of story-telling, and the vision of what is good, true and beautiful by listening to stories.

The stories that children and parents tell, in turn, shape the stories that they create. In the life of a family, shared experiences become part of the family’s shared story - which can reach far beyond the family. For example, Ruby Bridges’ family told and embodied stories that enabled Ruby, at 6 years old, to be an instrumental figure in the history of the United States when she became the first black child to attend a white elementary school. That is the role that stories play in shaping families, society and history.

For all of these reasons, stories are the unifying thread of tumblon:

  • We recommend great children’s literature to parents.
  • We encourage parents to record their children’s memorable words and stories.
  • We enable parents to preserve family stories in words and photos (and soon video too).
  • We facilitate sharing those those stories safely with family and friends around the world.

We believe that through this service we can enrich the stories families enjoy, tell and create so that their family stories may influence the wider society like the Bridges family did.

Books worth reading

April 16, 2008

0 comments // Published in literature, stories  

“C.S. Lewis said that no book is really worth reading at the age of ten which is not equally worth reading at the age of fifty.” (Honey for a Child’s Heart)

While emphatically true, I think that Lewis’ claim can be extended to even younger ages. Books worth reading to your preschooler are worth reading for yourself. That’s why, when evening reading time comes, I deliberately choose the books to read to my four-year-old daughter. The ones that have no plot or shallow characterization go straight back to the library; but the ones that say something, and say it well, we read again and again.

In our book recommendations, which will be linked to a child’s developmental stage, we will recommend books that are worth reading, not just those that sell a lot of copies. Our hope is that parents and children alike will discover the joy of books worth reading . . . and rereading.

Constructing a good reading list

April 14, 2008

0 comments // Published in literature, stories  

Every parent develops a reading list of children’s literature - intentionally or unintentionally. That list may be very short and sorry, or may be long, and just as undiscerning; or, short or long, it may comprise books that really connect with children. The measure of a reading list, whether written or contained only in one’s mind, is the quality of the literature, not the length of the list.

So how does a parent construct that reading list? Robert Coles, in selecting books for his college and graduate students, offers wisdom that is valuable for parents of young children:

“Over time I began to learn from the students that constructing a good reading list involves not so much matching student interest with author’s subject matter (though there is no reason to ignore the pleasure that such a correspondence can offer) as considering the degree of moral engagement a particular text seems to be able to make with any number of readers.” (The Call of Stories p190)

The literature that tumblon recommends follows Coles’ counsel: children often connect well with these books, regardless of whether they had a previous affinity for the content. By constructing a good reading list for parents at each stage of early childhood, we aim to help parents in the process of defining and refining their own lists. If we succeed, parents and children will frequently enjoy - and be shaped by - great children’s literature.

Memory: Perhaps the best education

April 4, 2008

0 comments // Published in virtue, stories  

At the end of The Brothers Karamozov, Alyosha spoke to the young people who revered him:

“My dear children . . . you must know that there is nothing higher and stronger and more wholesome and good for life in the future than some good memory, especially a memory of childhood, of home. People talk to you a great deal about your education, but some good, sacred memory, preserved from childhood, is perhaps the best education. If one carries many such memories into life, one is safe to the end of one’s days, and if one has only one good memory left in one’s heart, even that may be the means of saving us.”

Parents bear the responsibility of both shaping and preserving memories. We shape them by giving our children opportunities, and by being fully present with them, to be aware of what is going on. We preserve them in writing and in oral tradition (and now in photos and videos). These memories shape the personality, character and purpose of our children.

At tumblon, we encourage parents to take responsibility for shaping and preserving memories - and we provide a format in which those memories can be shared across the miles, and enjoyed over the years. We aim to help parents provide what is “perhaps the best education” a child can receive.

About

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Graham Scharf
Graham is a father, the husband of a pediatrician, a former NYC Teaching Fellow, and co-founder of Tumblon. He has worked in team development, taught in an urban public school, been a full-time dad to his two young daughters. Graham spends most of his time reading, gardening, and exploring playgrounds, parks, libraries, zoos and museums.

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