Part 24 (1/2)
[14] G. Ferreri--Per l'insegnamento della scrittura (Sistema della Dott M. Montessori) Bollettino dell' a.s.sociazione Romana per la cura medico--pedigogica dei fanciulli anormali e deficienti poveri, anno 1, n. 4, ottobre 1907. Roma Tipografia delle Terme Diocleziane.
[15] Ria.s.sunto delle lezion di didattica, della dott. Montessori anno 1900, Stab. lit. Romano, via Frattina 62, Disp. 6a, pag. 46: ”_Lettura e Scrittura simultanee._”
”At this point we present the cards bearing the vowels painted in red.
The child sees irregular figures painted in red. We give him the vowels in wood, painted red, and have him superimpose these upon the letters painted on the card. We have him touch the wooden vowels in the fas.h.i.+on of writing, and give him the name of each letter. The vowels are arranged on the cards according to a.n.a.logy of form:
_o_ _e_ _a_ _i_ _u_
”We then say to the child, for example, 'Find o. Fat it in its place.'
Then, 'What letter is this?' We here discover that many children make mistakes in the letters if they only look at the letter.
”They could however tell the letter by touching it. Most interesting observations may be made, revealing various individual types: visual, motor.
”We have the child touch the letters drawn upon the cards,--using first the index finger only, then the index with the middle finger,--then with a small wooden stick held as a pen. The letter must be traced in the fas.h.i.+on of writing.
”The consonants are painted in blue, and are arranged upon the cards according to a.n.a.logy of form. To these cards are annexed a movable alphabet in blue wood, the letters of which are to be placed upon the consonants as they were upon the vowels. In addition to these materials there is another series of cards, where, besides the consonant, are painted one or two figures the names of which begin with that particular letter. Near the script letter, is a smaller printed letter painted in the same colour.
”The teacher, naming the consonant according to the phonetic method, indicates the letter, and then the card, p.r.o.nouncing the names of the objects painted there, and emphasizing the first letter, as, for example, '_p-pear_: give me the consonant _p_--put it in its place, touch it,' etc. _In all this we study the linguistic defects of the child._
”Tracing the letter, in the fas.h.i.+on of writing, begins the muscular education which prepares for writing. One of our little girls taught by this method has reproduced all the letters with the pen, though she does not as yet recognise them all. She has made them about eight centimetres high, and with surprising regularity. This child also does well in hand work. The child who looks, recognises, and touches the letters in the manner of writing, prepares himself simultaneously for reading and writing.
”Touching the letters and looking at them at the same time, fixes the image more quickly through the co-operation of the senses. Later, the two facts separate; looking becomes reading; touching becomes writing.
According to the type of the individual, some learn to read first, others to write.”
I had thus, about the year 1899, initiated my method for reading and writing upon the fundamental lines it still follows. It was with great surprise that I noted the _facility_ with which a deficient child, to whom I one day gave a piece of chalk, traced upon the blackboard, in a firm hand, the letters of the entire alphabet, writing for the first time.
This had arrived much more quickly than I had supposed. As I have said, some of the children wrote the letters _with a pen and yet could not recognise one of them_. I have noticed, also, in normal children, that the muscular sense is most easily developed in infancy, and this makes writing exceedingly easy for children. It is not so with reading, which requires a much longer course of instruction, and which calls for a superior intellectual development, since it treats of the _interpretation of signs_, and of the _modulation of accents of the voice_, in order that the word may be understood. And all this is a purely mental task, while in writing, the child, under dictation, _materially translates_ sounds into signs, and _moves_, a thing which is always easy and pleasant for him. Writing develops in the little child with _facility_ and _spontaneity_, a.n.a.logous to the development of spoken language--which is a motor translation of audible sounds.
Reading, on the contrary, makes part of an abstract intellectual culture, which is the interpretation of ideas from graphic symbols, and is only acquired later on.
My first experiments with normal children were begun in the first half of the month of November, 1907.
In the two ”Children's Houses” in San Lorenzo, I had, from the date of their respective inaugurations (January 6 in one and March 7 in the other), used only the games of practical life, and of the education of the senses. I had not presented exercises for writing, because, like everybody else, I held the prejudice that it was necessary to begin as late as possible the teaching of reading and writing, and certainly to avoid it before the age of six.
But the children seemed to demand some _conclusion_ of the exercises, which had already developed them intellectually in a most surprising way. They knew how to dress and undress, and to bathe, themselves; they knew how to sweep the floors, dust the furniture, put the room in order, to open and close boxes, to manage the keys in the various locks; they could replace the objects in the cupboards in perfect order, could care for the plants; they knew how to observe things, and how to see objects with their hands. A number of them came to us and frankly demanded to be taught to read and write. Even in the face of our refusal several children came to school and proudly showed us that they knew how to make an O on the blackboard.
Finally, many of the mothers came to beg us as a favour to teach the children to write, saying, ”Here in the 'Children's Houses' the children are awakened, and learn so many things easily that if you only teach reading and writing they will soon learn, and will then be spared the great fatigue this always means in the elementary school.” This faith of the mothers, that their little ones would, from us, be _able to learn to read and write without fatigue_, made a great impression upon me.
Thinking upon the results I had obtained in the school for deficients, I decided during the August vacation to make a trial upon the reopening of the school in September. Upon second thought I decided that it would be better to take up the interrupted work in September, and not to approach reading and writing until October, when the elementary schools opened.
This presented the added advantage of permitting us to compare the progress of the children of the first elementary with that made by ours, who would have begun the same branch of instruction at the same time.
In September, therefore, I began a search for someone who could manufacture didactic materials, but found no one willing to undertake it. I wished to have a splendid alphabet made, like the one used with the deficients. Giving this up, I was willing to content myself with the ordinary enamelled letters used upon shop windows, but I could find them in script form nowhere. My disappointments were many.
So pa.s.sed the whole mouth of October. The children in the first elementary had already filled pages of vertical strokes, and mine were still waiting. I then decided to cut out large paper letters, and to have one of my teachers colour these roughly on one side with a blue tint. As for the touching of the letters, I thought of cutting the letters of the alphabet out of sandpaper, and of gluing them upon smooth cards, thus making objects much like those used in the primitive exercises for the tactile sense.
Only after I had made these simple things, did I become aware of the superiority of this alphabet to that magnificent one I had used for my deficients, and in the pursuit of which I had wasted two months! If I had been rich, I would have had that beautiful but barren alphabet of the past! We wish the old things because we cannot understand the new, and we are always seeking after that gorgeousness which belongs to things already on the decline, without recognising in the humble simplicity of new ideas the germ which shall develop in the future.