A brief course in the teaching process

by George D. Strayer

Constructiveness: Closely connected with the play instinct is the instinct to make out of the material at one’s command that which will represent some element in the play. In the beginning, gestures, sounds, and whatever objects are present suffice in the make-believe world of the child. But soon the materials are rearranged or shaped into some new form in order to represent the object desired. Materials become to the child just what he can make out of them. And it is not simply in power to construct or to represent that the child grows because of this activity. To make something, to work out in materials one’s idea, means growth in definiteness and control of ideas. The one adequate test of ideas must always be some sort of expression; and, for the adult as well as for the child, construction is one of the most important forms of expression. We would gain much in all of our school work in clearness and definiteness, if we resorted oftener to construction as a test. Of course, construction is not to be limited to the making of things of three dimensions. The map, plan, or artistic representation belongs to the same group, and is developed from the same instinctive tendency.

Just one more word of caution needs to be given with regard to work of this kind. In constructive work, whether with wood or clay, or with pencil or brush, the point of departure should be the child’s idea, not the model or pattern provided by an adult. After the child has made his attempt, then let him see where he has failed by reference to the object which he has tried to represent. And we can afford to be satisfied in the beginning with a crude product, so long as it satisfies the child. As for technique, there will come a time when the desire for a better product will call for greater skill and will furnish the very best possible motive for the necessary practice.

Imitation: In both play and constructive work a most important element is the instinct to imitate. The child constantly imitates adult activities in play, and in construction he represents the objects about him. As has already been indicated, it is in this way that he clarifies his ideas, that he gains experience. In imitation, which is truly instructive, the child does not consciously plan to imitate; it is enough that the model is present. This kind of imitation is sometimes called spontaneous imitation, in contradistinction to the other type of imitation, in which the individual persistently tries to reproduce the activity of another. In the latter case he is conscious of the process; and this type is sometimes called voluntary imitation. This distinction is important for teachers in many phases of school work. There are cases where the only satisfactory response is that which accords with the model, the standard which society imposes. We do not want a child to try to spell a word without being conscious of the form commonly accepted. He will succeed in spelling because he has studied this word, or is able to build it up from his knowledge of its constituent parts. On the other hand, wherever creative work is to be done, wherever originality is required, the educational value of the exercise is inversely proportioned to the degree in which conscious imitation of a model has entered to produce the result. In such subjects as English composition, constructive work, science work involving observation and experiment, what we want above all else is the attempt on the part of the learner to express his own ideas; and it is only after this expression that any adequate appreciation of model or of criticism can be hoped for.

There is one other factor in connection with imitation which is of great importance in teaching; namely, that children persistently imitate what they admire. This has a double significance for the teacher. Those things which can be made less attractive will tend to be less imitated; and, conversely, that which is held up as worthy of great respect will be much imitated. If we were only wise, we would devote our attention to the leader of the group, trying to secure the appropriate or desired reaction upon his or her part, rather than devoting ourselves equally to the whole group. We can depend upon it, the crowd will follow the leader whom they admire. Our appeals often mean little to children, and the models which we set up have little effect, because, however admirable these standards may seem to us, they are beyond the power of children to comprehend or admire. Instead of giving a boy a letter of Jefferson as a model, better give him the one written by his classmate. Do not expect the girl to imitate the noblest women in history, but make your appeal on the basis of the virtue of the girl she likes.

Emulation: Much that has been said above under imitation might quite as well have been written under the head of emulation. As social beings, we tend to do what others do. Consciousness of kind compels us to lay great store upon our ability to do as others do. When in Rome the difficult thing is not to do “as Romans do,” but to do otherwise. The desire to do not only as well as others, but to accomplish more, is responsible for much that is achieved in the world. If we did not have others with whom we are constantly comparing ourselves, few of us would do as well as we now do. Rivalry will always be one of the greatest means of bringing about improvement or advancement in social conditions. In school, as well as in the world at large, rivalry, if kept free from jealousy and envy, will justify its existence by the results produced. The boy or girl who is anxious to distance his fellows in school is apt to be the man of ambition and of success in later life.

Pugnacity: More prominent in boys than in girls, but present in some degree in every individual, is the instinct to fight, the desire not to be overcome either by persons or conditions which surround us. In so far as this instinct leads to physical encounter, for all except the unusually strong physically, the correction comes by way of defeat. For all, the substitution of games which involve physical prowess for fighting, and the substitution of victories of intellect for the victories of physical combat, point to the utilization of this instinct in education. It is sometimes possible to appeal to this instinct when discouragement and defeat in school tasks seem inevitable. No boy likes to be told that he has been downed by the task in long division, or that he has failed to make good in spelling or geography. The whole world hates a quitter, and normal, healthy children are no exception to the rule.

Curiosity: Children are proverbially curious about things. They want to know more, to enlarge and make more definite their experience. This desire shows itself in their actions in handling materials, in making and unmaking, in questions asked, in reasoning, in play, and in imitating others. The most striking characteristic in the mental life of children is the breadth of their interests, due to this instinct of curiosity. Most adults think along very narrow and restricted lines; not so with children. While it is true that they do little abstract thinking, there is scarcely an object or an action which comes within the range of their senses that is not followed by the desire to find out more.

Children have the spirit of inquiry, have many problems, in short, are mentally active to a degree most uncommon among adults. The problem of the teacher is how to keep alive this spirit of inquiry, how to insure a continuance of this mental alertness. Much of our school work has certainly tended in the opposite direction. Reciting what is written in books, without thought or question, has too often been characteristic of recitations. The appeal to authority, whether of the teacher or of the book, instead of the appeal to experience, to observation and experiment, or to other methods of establishing truth, tends to kill rather than to strengthen the spirit of inquiry. We should place greater value upon the intelligent question than upon the parrot-like answer. Respect for the problems of children, even when they seem of little account to us, rather than ridicule or evasion, will tend to keep alive this most precious heritage. Of course it is not wise to encourage the scatter-brained boy or girl who never thinks about the same thing for two minutes in succession. One great function of the teacher is to help children to concentrate upon the main issue, to show a child that his question is irrelevant to the problem under consideration, and to guide him on the path which makes thinking pleasant and profitable.