In Widerberg’s and Munch’s Footsteps

Each of us has a unique view on the reality. Each individual’s view is connected to real events, thus how the reality affects us depends on many personal factors… on our senses, attention, imagination, interests, emotions, experiences... Education usually pays more attention to facts from the “real world” than to students’ perceptions of it (Robinson, 2016); fortunately, this is not the case in arts education.

My research builds on the claim that each person makes/constructs/negotiates personal understandings on the behalf of embodied experiences from past and present. Motivation for learning, creating or exploring, can come from experiencing some kind of similarity between a past and a present experience. Here are examples where famous paintings matched students’ personal experiences; in the first example the students were young pre-school children age 3-5; the second example is from early childhood teacher education.

In a research project, few years ago, I accompanied a group of children to a beach. The children played in the fine sand and shallow water.  Some of the teachers took pictures and I later selected photos to show to the children later in order to help them recall their experiences. The plan was to motivate the children to paint. For that purpose examples from a Norwegian painter Frans Widerberg were to be used as inspiration, however, while I was looking through an museum catalogue for Widerberg’s exhibition the children had recently visited, I saw extraordinary resemblance between the photos and the paintings. The motives as well as compositions were identical! I was amazed! When the paintings and the photos were shown to the children one after another on a big screen, it seemed like Widerberg painted the children that day – as if he was on the beach with us (see some of the paintings here: https://www.artsy.net/show/kunstverket-galleri-frans-widerberg ). The children’s experiences of the real world merged with their art experiences. This was magic! The children could instantly sense that art can mean something to them. They experienced that art can talk directly to them and were motivated to explore their own ways of expressing through this this wordless language. Additionally, their own experiences suddenly seemed more important to themselves … since thy seemed to be important to a painter who put them on canvas in powerful colors.

In another educational setting, where I was responsible for a group of teacher students (with minimal art experience), another famous Norwegian painter Edvard Munch was to inspire the students. Actually it was another way around: the students’ own activity of drawing was to be experienced first, and Munch’s paintings were to recall their personal experiences.

We are fortunate that our campus (University College of Southeast Norway, campus Vestfold) is situated close by Åsgårdstrand, a small city where Munch used to spend his summers. His summerhouse is still there, as well is the beach visible on many of his paintings (see https://www.artsy.net/artist/edvard-munch ). The students spent a day of drawing on the beach – just like that, without any introduction to Munch, however I had first told them about the project with children and Widerberg’s painting. I wanted them to experience the place with their own senses first. The drawing assignment was a form of slowing time, allowing focused attention, dwelling and engagement of senses. Their interest for Munch paintings evolved from the fact that they literally walked in Munch’s footsteps. Their feet touched the same sandy ground… though 100 years later. The new experience – the one from art – could resonate their own multisensory embodied experiences. The past and present experiences could meet in personal, emotionally loaded insights, meaningful because they concerned them, and were not only a piece of art history to be memorized.

Munch's summer house in Åsgårdstrand

http://www.munchshus.no/en/

Robinson, K. (2016). Creative Schools: The Grassroots Revolution That's Transforming Education. New York: Penguin Books.

https://www.artsy.net/artist/edvard-munch     
https://www.artsy.net/show/kunstverket-galleri-frans-widerberg

Learning to Learn

I recently wrote an article about learning through first-hand-experience. The paper is to be presented at Design + Research + Society DRS2016 conference in Brighton in the end of June. It is available for reading here: http://www.drs2016.org/103

Here is the abstract: A child cannot be taught how to walk – it has to sense the balance of its body, the smoothness of the floor, the strength of its muscles, and respond appropriately. The author argues that the process of learning depends on embodied functions and subjective experiences of the one who is learning. This paper discusses the first-hand perspective in the process of material transformation. During such a process, the acting person has to be attentive and make innumerable adaptive choices. Examples from a doctoral study focusing on young children (3 year olds), illustrate how the children’s first-person experiences related to their learning. The author proposes that similar processes take place at all ages and that experience of learning through material transformation is an arena for learning how to learn. The paper initiates discussion about interactive relationships between the senses, attention, emotional engagement, responsibility, mastery, self-confidence and learning during material transformations.

A hen without head and a dragon

While I am filming my three years old niece play with playdough, she is explaining what she is doing. She presses small pieces of the material together and says that it is important to make them stick. Then she cuts playdough with a knife in many small pieces. I ask her what she is going to do with so many pieces. She says that this is the right way to do it – and her voice is very convincing.

 

At one point, she starts laughing and pointing at the lump in front of her: "Look!"
I do not understand what she is trying to show me.

She tries again: "See? The hen does not have a head!", she laughs. She is right, I can not see any head. I can not see a hen, either! - but I laugh together with her. Along with our playful laughter, I sense how she is becoming even more confident in his actions. She now turns the invisible hen around and announces with surprise in her voice: "Oh! Now it became a dragon!" The tail of the chicken without a head, became a head for a dragon. She starts taking pieces of playdough, pressing them between her thumbs and forefingers and making flat chips to shape a kind of armor for the dragon. I wonder what thas is, and she says that the dragon needs protection from rain.

I am curious about her ideas and I ask her where she had seen such a dragon: “Have you may be seen it in books, on TV, or somewhere else?”

She responds: “No! I have not seen it anywhere. I made it!”

I try again to identify the source of her inspiration: "Perhaps such dragons exist in fairy tales?"
But she is determined: "No, no! It does not exist anywhere else, but here!!!”
She is the proud creator of the unique dragon that was born from a hen with no tail – and she knows it! I could almost hear and smell her increasing self-confidence.

Waiting for a Yellow Dress

“Why didn’t you come earlier?! I have been waiting for you so long! I have been waiting for a million time!” Ana was three and a half years old and had learned that “million” was really much. “Hundred of  million time!!!” she added while she was tramping with her foot and stretching her arms and fingers toward me. She was acting angry. When she saw me at the door, she first gave me a big hug and a broad smile, and then she remember that she was supposed to be angry. Yes, I was guilty: my flight company was on strike and I was 7 hours delayed. She had been waiting for me the whole day, and now she had to go to sleep. We had not seen each other for eight months and that is really long time for an aunt and a niece.

 

I was so late and did not even bring her what she wished for: a yellow dress. When I asked her on the phonea few days earlier: “What shall I bring you from Norway?”, she had a specific idea about a yellow dress, how long it was supposed to be, how it was supposed to swing and move. I could not imagine the color and the details she had on her mind, and was sure that shopping for such a dress would take much longer than making it. So, I thought that she and I could make this dress together – this would be the best way to give life to the special dress from her imagination.

The next morning we went to a close by textile shop, not exactly a dress-textile shop, but they had some nice curtain fabrics. Ana found something she liked, not exactly yellow textile, but light violet, just thick enough for a spring dress that would swing well. We also found some nice ribbons, buttons and other accessories in matching colors and we were ready for action. First we made a drawing, measured length and width. Ana helped with measuring and cutting, as well as with feeding the sewing machine. She was patiently participating in the whole process of the creative dressmaking. Her patience was challenged additionally when the sawing machine went on strike (too) and we could not finish the dress the same day. The morning after, I took the dress and went to visit Ana at her pre-school. “I knew you would come!” she shouted when I arrived, and she wanted to try the dress on immediately. It fitted perfectly! The following days Ana carried the dress - sometimes on, sometimes in her backpack, but always with her.

Exploring Eggs and Avocadoes

I challenged two of my students to observe their own children’s encounters “new materials”. For those 10 and 9 months old babies most of materials were new; the trick was to choose materials that would not harm them during their multi-sensory explorations. The assignment requested that each child got chance to explore two similar but not identical materials/objects. This would provide opportunities for babies to acquire new experiences, recognize similarities and to be surprized. Here is a reconstruction of what the students wrote in their assignments.
 
One of the students gave her 10 months old girl a cooked, pealed egg first. The girl brought it directly to her mouth. The egg was smooth, slipped from her hands and rolled over the floor. She quickly followed by crawling, supporting her weight with one hand on the floor and catching the egg with the other. When she finally grabbed the egg, she grabbed it so hard that the egg went to pieces. She picked some of the pieces and started to put them in her mouth. Then she suddenly realized that the taste was unfamiliar and looked skeptically at her parents to check if it was safe. They were smiling, she sensed their encouragement and continued to eat, cluck out loud and enjoy.

The second experiment took place few days later. This time the girl was given a raw egg with shell. Her mouth opened the same moment she grabbed the egg with both hands and she went on rubbing the eggshell to her gums (a new tooth was on its way out). After some time she started to swing her arm. If she slipped the egg it would fly away: Her mother was watching nervously. To her surprise, the egg did not crack when it fell on the wooden floor for the first time; But it surprised the girl when it finally did: With her eyes wide open, she gave her mother a questioning look. She started to pick the eggshell, but the mother decided to remove it to prevent the girl from putting it is her mouth. This upset the girl, but she soon calmed down and started to play with egg content. She crawled around and with her hands extended the egg area on the floor. She was excited when a bubble suddenly appeared in the egg white, and tried to pick it up. She tried several times but each bubble busted. After about five minutes of bubble catching, she lay down on her stomach and started to lick the floor. The experiment ended when the mother evaluated that the floor was dangerously slippery for the girl.

The other child, nine months old boy, was given a peeled avocado to play with. It was slipping away as the boy was trying to catch it. He was crawling and chasing the avocado across the floor, but it repeatedly slipped between his fingers. After some time he seemed to realize that there was more resistance in avocado than he had expected. He sat up a kind of trap for the avocado and caught it between his legs. Now he could squeeze it much harder and longer without losing it. The squeezed substance colored his socks and trousers green and he could not any longer see where the avocado was hiding, so he began squeezing his own foot. The avocado had disappeared, only the big brown seed remained – however, the boy did not see any connection between the two such different shapes and material qualities. He continued playing with avocado remaining, smeared them on the floor and found it amusing to crawl over the slippery surface.

For the second experiment, the boy was given an unpeeled avocado. He did not seem to recognize the object; The difference between the two avocados was probably too large: both the color and the consistency were different. This avocado was explored by rolling. At some point, the boy tried to squeeze it, but soon realized that it did not lead anywhere. He tried biting and tasting, but lost interest when he did not find much he could do with the object.

During their active interactions with the objects / materials the children discovered materials’ specific qualities. The materials offered different affordances and different types of resistance, and challenged different forms of physical and mental activities. What is this - and what can I do with it? Some properties were more interesting than others were. The boy’s mother comments that soft materials might be more fun to explore - her son played much longer with the soft avocado.

Both of the mothers noted how important intersubjective communication with their children was for making the material exploration possible at all. The boy’s mother wrote: “He was so aware of my reactions to his activities; He stopped his activities, looked at me and waited for an encouraging smile before he continued. He knew that he was usually not allowed to spill and smear things on the floor and he needed a "confirmation" that it was OK to do that this time.”

Look at me!

Few years ago I took part in a multidisciplinary, multicultural project in an early childhood and care institution (ECEC) close to a refugee centre. Half of the children group did not speak Norwegian. The project aimed to collaboration and integration of children and their parents in the new community. We wanted to do something that did not rely on verbal language, some kind of activities both children and their parents could participate in and exchange cultural knowledge and experiences. As teacher of visual arts I suggested that some kind of material, common in all parts of the world, could be good foundation to build content and curricula (since materials can structure curricula (Fredriksen 2010)). With some inspiration from the children and corn field landscapes in the ECEC’s surroundings, the choice fell on material: flour. This was no usual art material, but can you imagine how many different tasty things could be made of it? We invited parents to show their baking / cooking skills from different cultures ... but that's another story. The story to be told here is about little Adi, who turned three on the first project day. Wearing his special birthday suit, together with his mother he stood speechless in the doorway and watched the kids playing on the floor with toy tractors full of flour, and flour-dusty clothes.

  

Adi was a quiet boy, so quiet we thought he could not speak a word. He did not even make any sounds. Ones he hit his forehead on the edge of a table, he held his hand on the painful spot, but did not cry or make ​​any sound.

When we, a week later, visited a farm with old-fashioned mill and stone own, Adi made a loaf of bread and marked it with special sign. When the bread came out of the own, he recognized it and pointed with smile, but still no sound. On our way back home, he fell asleep sitting in the back seat in heart-warming embrace with his bread.

I will never forget what happened the morning after. When Adi arrived to the ECEC with his mother, she hugged and kissed everyone she came over. With joyful tears and broken English she managed to convey that Adi had told her everything! He explained the whole process that started with crushing of grains between the millstones and ended with golden bread on his chest. Her joy was overwhelming, but our surprize that Adi could speak was even larger! We realized that Adi understood so much more than we had imagined: He had even understood that there was no point in communicating in the only language he knew! He had to be creative in exploring other ways of communication. 

Images from the project were printed and exhibited on the ECEC wall. When Adi few days later saw a picture of himself with his bread, his alternately pointed on the image and on his chest. He was tapping on the picture and looking around to get attention. He hoped that everyone could hear his silent shouting: LOOK AT ME!

Children need to be seen, heard and acknowledged, however silent they are! This requires attentive and caring adults -  kind of adults that are so engaged that they can see the invisible and hear the soundless. 

Fredriksen, B. C. (2010). Meaning making, democratic participation and art in early childhood education: Can inspiring objects structure dynamic curricula? International Journal of Education through Art, 6(3), 383-397.

Largest in the World

My niece Ana is now a big girl: almost three years old! She grows with every small task she does the way adults do. She feels important when someone needs her help. And she gladly shows what she can do: “Look at me I can stand on one foot!” She can also ride a donkey!

The donkey is not so tall, but sitting in the saddle was still risky enough and Ana had to grasp the horn of the saddle. She gradually learned to be attentive to the rhythm of the donkey’s movements from side to side. The balance had to be negotiated through her upper body, especially since her feet could not reach the stirrups. She could feel the challenges of riding up- and downhill, and it was only on the flat ground that she let go of the saddle horn in order to fix the helmet (with a serious expression on her face).

The first few minutes of riding were a bit scary and her father had to support her back; Ten minutes later she told her dad to stay away; After half an hour Ana was ready to ride "the largest horse in the world” – as she expressed with enormous confidence. Mastering the donkey riding gave her courage to face greater challenges.

Small portions of mastery give courage and self-confidence to cope with larger challenges. Motivation comes from the mastery, but also from the struggle with the challenge – as Eisner (2002) wrote: “No challenge no growth; No mastery no growth.” It is my opinion that humans embody urge to explore and pursue the unknown, mystical and puzzling issues. If this urge is, in early age, support by significant adults, it will become powerful motivation to solve any kind of challenges – it becomes the driving force behind creativity. Charles Darwin wrote about his own desire to explore anomalies and strange issues none else found worth exploring (Smith, 2005). It was exactly the fact that he had enough motivation and self-confidence to pursue the odd that contributed to the great discoveries. Louis Smith (2005) reminds us of the relations between desire for anomalies and exceptions, and creativity.

Some of us strive to let our children face challenges. We are afraid they would hurt themselves. The challenges we expose the children to must, of course, be appropriate, but since it is the adults who have the power to decide what is appropriate, we should be aware of that lack of our own courage can actually prevent the children from experiencing mastery, becoming more self-confident and creative.   

Eisner, E. W. (2002). The arts and the creation of mind. New Haven: Yale University Press.
Smith, L. M. (2005). Anomalies, Exceptions and Creativity: A Perspective from Darwin's Natural History. Perspectives in Education, 21(2), 69-86.

Hiding Just Enough

We sometimes hide, but want to be found. My niece Ana demonstrates how one can hide just enough. She does not want to vanish – so she does not cover all of her body with the duvet. She does not want to risk not being found. The two year old is begging to understand the game of hiding and the privilege of deciding where and how much one wants (and needs) to hide.

My game is different - actually it is not a game but serious business of research – but my imagination finds some similarities between Ana’s and my activities. While preparing for conducting qualitative interviews, I have been thinking about how to present myself. I fully respect my interviewees, I do not plan to be dishonest and would never do anything to harm them, but they do not have to know everything about me and my research. A trusting relationship is important. Interviewees needs to feel comfortable in order to uncover their believes, feeling, thoughts and ideas, but if the relationship become friend-like wouldn’t that make my interviewees tell me what they assume I want to hear? I think that there is nothing wrong with being friendly, curious, attentive and caring, but I should not tell them about my hopes and expectations.



I am not worried about my misinterpretations during the data analysis - I am more worried about that I can come to say and do during our “momentary meetings”(Aspelin, 2010). A facial expression that only takes a millisecond can decide further development of our conversations. I know myself: if I experience that someone is uncomfortable I can start bubbling in a supportive way in order to restore their confidence. My most important homework is to prepare to constrain my talking and I find this difficult particularly because I care about my interviewees and I feel responsible for their wellbeing, especially because I had invited them. (The one who invites is responsible for paying the bill, I suppose.)

 

Redrawing from talking is not a question of honesty, is it? What if I just hide a toe or my left shoulder as long as the rest of my body (including the heart) is fully present? Ana’s examples function as helpful instructions. Thanks Ana! - Your playful ways of approaching the world trigger my reflections about things you probably never thought about.

Aspelin, J. (2010). What really matters is 'between'. Understanding the focal point of education from an inter-human perpective. Education Inquiry, 1(2), 127-136.

Imitating own Experiences

We can easily observe how young children imitate their parents and other adults. That is a natural way of learning, sometimes done intuitively, sometimes in admiration of adults’ actions (pretending to be adults), or simply because children’s experiences with close adults are the only experiences they have about people’s behaviour; In the beginning of their lives, children’s experiences from close surroundings are their only way to know the world.    

My niece Ana, now 21 months old, has a proud expression on her face when she finds a piece of paper on the floor (or something else she defines as trash) and self-initiatively throws it in the garbage can. I can imagine that she had observed similar garbage-throwing-actions done by her family members. And I know that she had also been assigned similar tasks by her father who realized her urge to pretend-play to be an adult. He would ask her to help him to through something and then applaud her. I am sure that his support motivated her initiative to gradually take action in her own hands and throw things without being asked (though she sometimes throws things that are not supposed to be thrown). Her enjoyment of mastering the garbage-throwing-skills is related to her father’s accept and support – and as a human being she strives for being accepter and loved and therefor tries to “do things right”.

I observed Ana putting bear puppets to sleep. She cuddled them carefully over their heads and said something that sounded like “sleep”. I imagined that this was how her parents treated her when she would go to sleep, and her mother later approved that they do; Ana’s own experience of being patted over her head made her believe that this is how everyone falls asleep - she does not know any other way. When she and I placed the bear puppets on the pillow, she was applying her passive experiences of being cuddled, but in this contextshe was the caretaker and the bears those who need her care.

The same gentle movement of her right hand is to be observed in the way she touches her cats and dogs. I was touched by the same tenderness of her little hand when she was cuddling a horse. The gentleness was not adjusted to the size of the horse, but was the only way of striking she knew, even though it could by the horse be perceived rather as tickling than supportive clapping.

The sum of Ana’s past experiences is the basis for her choices of actions in new situations. By time she will learn to adjust her hand movements and other actions according to the specificity of the animals, puppets, people and contexts. By time she will learn that contexts are never the same and that each specific context demands attention to itsuniqueness, and range of choices in order to meet the moment.

I wish time was my friend...

Only a short notice to apologize for low frequency of contributions to this blog: I have received positive response from the book referee and am busy (or at least should be) with rewriting it. However, this time of years is also busy with exams and other teacher-related responsibilities.
So, you'll just have to be patient with me. A blog about pedagogical improvisation is just around the corner! While you are waiting, please relax, look at the world around you and explore some flowers or other wonderful beauties of the nature. I will do that too - when I get some time...

We all have something to learn from young children’s curiosity, attentiveness and sense of time...

Grasping with Body

What a relief: Two days ago I finished writing a book and sent it off to a referee. Even though I know this is just a first phase and still much work left, it’s a wonderful feeling to have written all of the planned pages. The book has actually already been on sale for some time before it was written – it was a shock to discover that a few months ago, but it also stressed me up to hurry with writing. This is how the book is featured on the publisher’s web page: http://universitetsforlaget.no/nettbutikk/begripe-med-kroppen.html        
And this is what the text in Norwegian means, roughly: 

Book title: Grasping with Body: Children's Experiences as Basic for all Learning

The book provides a comprehensive view of young children's experiential learning, with focus on the body, emotions and imagination. It argues for holistic and interdisciplinary understanding of Learning and development. Practical examples form the author's play with 3-5 year old children show how the children’s past and present experiences during explorative play with materials contributed to their imaginative cognition. 

The book is based on the author’s doctoral research. The author highlights how a child's unique combination of personal experiences is connected to meaningfulness of the learning process. "Micro-discoveries", during which a child achieves the feeling of mastery in solving a small self-initiated problem, function as powerful motivation for creativity and learning, and enthusiasm to deal with new challenges.

The textbook is written for the new preschool teacher education program, starting in Norway from fall 2013, addressing specifically the two subject areas in the program: “Child development, play and learning” and “Art, culture and creativity”. The author hopes to motivate preschool teacher students’ critical reflection on their attitudes and teacher roles. The book is also useful for professionals in the early childhood education, primary school teachers, and others concerned with education and children.

Meaningful Lives for our Children?

My son was one year old when I started teaching early childhood teacher students. In the beginning of my carrier I was making efforts to develop a professional style of teaching according to curricula plans and other demands. As new in the business I thought that being professional depended on my “objectivity decisions, still, I experienced that my sense of motherhood was influencing my teacher choices; My mother-intuition made me pose the question: Would I like this student to be my son’s teacher? The intuition was some kind of continual evaluation of my students, not so much of their knowledge, but of their attitudes: Do they care about children, love them and want them to be happy? But they also have to be professional, for instance, in distinguishing between different kinds of children’s needs.
As parents, we wish best for our children - we want them to be happy and we often support them in what they want, believing that this will make them happy. But wants and needs are two different things (Noddings, 2003). Do we sometimes fulfil our children’s wants instead of their needs?

Relation between needs and wants is terribly confused in today’s word. This is a big issue which concerns schooling systems and many other sides of our societies, in short: We give our children too much of what they don’t need, and deprive them from what they do. We give them new cell phones, PC-games and other things which will satisfy their wants for a day or a week. We tell them that they are lucky for getting so much without any effort, and we feel kind, but getting much without obligations leaves them without possibility to engage and experience pride for some kind of achievement. However small, such pride could give them self-confidence and makes their life more meaningful. On the other hand, absence of commitment can demotivate their will to act and kill their initiative. How can we know what our children really need in order to have meaningful lives?

On January 31st I was invited by national “Parents’ association for preschool children” (FUB, Foreldreutvalget i barnehagen) and “Parents’ association for school children” (FUG, Foreldreutvalget i grunnskoleopplæringen) to give a lecture about my views on holistic learning. The parents’ associations have started a joined initiative they called “Whole child through education”. As I understand it, the initiative is a kind of disapproval to the present Norwegian education which, to larger extent than some years ago, focuses on measurable outcomes. If anyone can assume that quality of measurable results is equal to quality of life, parents can still sense when their children are not happy.
   
During the lecture I received a question from a concerned mother: What can parents do then their child has lost all initiative to act? I had to admit that the same question has been bothering me when I see how difficult it has become to motivate my son to do something else than sit close to a screen. To answer the question I gave an example of what I and my son did.

 

My study (se links to the right) has shown that diverse embodied activities and experiences with large varieties of physical environments, materials, things, animals etc. are essential for imaginative cognition (Efland, 2002) which connects intellectual, aesthetic, emotional and other sides of life in a holistic way. But children and youngsters do not know that they need diverse experiences. If they want to sit by a computer it is difficult to motivate them to do something else. If we try to press them to do something they don’t want, they would probably do it with hate, but not really engage, especially if what we want them to do has nothing to do with their interests.

I think that we have to be attentive in order to find the small sprouts of interest in our children. Then we should provide with further motivation, with something that can activate their body in diverse ways and engage their emotions. For instance, my son (15) for some reason likes donkeys, and I let him buy one for his own money. We didn’t have any place to keep it, but this challenge became another benefit: The donkey was bought in Serbia where my father could take care of it and this became an additional motivation for my son to visit his grandparents every holiday. Everyone is happy!

 

It also has to be mentioned that I bought a horse so that me and my son can experience all kinds of weather, landscapes, roads, cars and wild animals from our saddles. Owning a donkey constantly provides him with new challenges: how to clean the stable, how to make a Mexican style ribbon for the donkey’s forehead, how to teach the donkey to pull a cart and all other kinds of challenges which I believe he needs to engage, struggle with, master, feel needed and be happy.

Efland, A. D. (2002). Art and cognition: Integrating the visual arts in the curriculum. New York and London: Teachers College Press.

Noddings, N. (2003). Happiness and education. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.

Sock Success

We are hardly aware of the muscles we engage and coordinate in conducting simple daily tasks. However when one is about a year old, there are so many movements and actions that need to be synchronized and adjusted one to another in order to carry out apparently easy tasks as putting a sock on one’s foot. The movements additionally have to be adjusted to the specific sock’s qualities: size, thickness, elasticity, and so on.

My niece, 14 months old, has shown remarkable interest for putting on shoes, hats and socks. Probably by observing what other people do, she has caught some moves and managed to orchestrate the basic muscles in her fingers, hands, feet, legs and wherever else she has planned to fit a cloth item. Some of her moves are practiced to perfection while she is repeating them over and over again in exactly the same manner. Sure of yet another success, she conducts the sock activity quickly and with confidence (you really need to concentrate when watching the video). She puts her thumbs carefully in to a sock’s open part. Then she lifts her right foot (always right!) with great attention. From here things happen very quickly and the sock suddenly disappears under the right knee. And when she is done, she waits for applause or other kinds of social reward. She believes she is an expert.

Believing that socks are her area of expertise, her interest in socks has become even greater. I have observed her smile while she is pointing at socks in a picture book. She even finds comfort in holding one sock in each hand when she goes to sleep.

 

In my doctoral thesis “Negotiated grasp”, I described how children negotiate new meanings between: 1. their bodies (senses, muscles, physical activities, present and past experiences), 2. materials’ and objects’ affordances and resistance, and 3. Inter-subjective social interaction. I believe that the example of my niece sock-activity is a good illustration of a meaning negotiation process: Her first-hand activities with socks demand her attention toward the socks’ qualities as well as towards possibilities and constrains of own muscles and whole body. And when she succeeds, her self-achieved joy of mastery is additionally supported by social response. From this double reward she can experience that it pays off to be attentive and struggle in order to succeed. I believe that such an insight can support her positive attitude toward many other challenges in life.  

Experience of Being a Father

There is so much we can’t know before we experience it. We can read in books, people can try to explain, and we can believe that we have understood – but as long as things we hear about do not concern us - have nothing to do with our experiences, we might not feel an urge to know more about them. But when something (or someone) has become a part of our lives we suddenly have time to pay attention to details, be sincerely curious and engage emotionally… I am, kind of, trying to be general in my introduction here, but becoming a father can really not be compared to many other life experience; It concerns so many sides of being a human…This is how my brother describes his daughter. In the same time he also describes his discovery of what it means to be father:  

“Ana is an angel. I cannot believe how much a 10 months child can understand and how well she can communicate! Earlier I thought that so young children could not communicate at all, but now I see how wrong I was. She plays so well, both alone and with us, her parents, and she likes joking with us; She knows what "no" means, and shows respect to this word …not always, though. She sometimes even uses this word against us, when we do something that she does not want!

She understands that the remote control does something to TV and that a mobile telephone, for some reason unknown to her, is supposed to be held against the ear while talking in air. She can use words “mom” and “dad” and can even pronounce her own name.

 

She knows where her nose is, where her eyes are, and where "Ana's clever head" is. She can clap when she does something smart, and wave to people when they are leaving. She can crawl very fast when she wants to reach her dad’s Lego constructions, and she destroys them with laughter. She has become found of certain TV commercials and stops playing to turn to the TV when she recognizes the music. Ana is a miracle!

Signed: Her dad”

Article in Education Inquiry

I am proud to announce that my colleagues from Vestfold University College, and I, are responsible for the themed issue of  Education Inquiry that can be found here: http://www.use.umu.se/digitalAssets/103/103295_inquiry_vol3_nr3.pdf . The articles are based on our project where we have studied significance of space and materiality in early childhood education.

My article discusses teacher's responsibilities in providing materials and spaces for negotiation of meaning. It is based on Elliot Eisner's (2002) claim that by selecting materials, a visual art teacher can provide possibilities for certain forms of learning to take place, but cannot decide what can be learned. A few episodes with my own interaction with a three year old girl during our play with textiles are discussed in relation to the claim.


Eisner, E. W. (2002). The arts and the creation of mind. New Haven, Yale University Press.
Fredriksen, B. C. (2012). "Providing materials and spaces for the negotiation of meaning in explorative play: Teachers’ responsibilities." Education Inquiry 3(3): 331-347.

Attention to the other

If we are not alert to the changes in environments and contexts, we might fail to react in a proper way … like looking to wrong side when crossing a road in England, not being attentive can have fatal consequences.

This summer I had possibilities to observe a horse and a donkey. However, the two animals also had a chance to observe me and read my body language, and I’ve heard they are so good “readers”. Horses have extraordinary ability to interpret body language horses and humans and this kind of attention can save them from being eaten by predators. Attention seems to be a necessity of survival and a very early way of learning from the others.

My little niece, nine months old, is attentive to her surroundings. She touches and grabs what she can reach. Once she was in my arms, we were sitting on a floor and a cat was lying next to us. With her bare foot the girl was touching the cat’s tale. Knowing that this cat could suddenly jump and use his claws, I was alert to its movements. Unfortunately I was possibly too alert: when the cat lifted his head, I quickly moved the girl away, rotating my body about 20 cm to the right. Nothing else happened, the cat just looked at us, but my reaction really scared the girl. My body movement communicated danger and she detected that. I wanted to protect her, but scared her instead. She was screaming and could not calm down until her mother came from the other room.

This reminds me of something Stern (2003) wrote: how young children often observe their mother’s body language to find out if something is dangerous or not. Young children seem to learn through this kind of first-hand experience mediated through care-givers’ body language, and I felt bad because I did not want to teach my niece that cats are dangerous animals. I can of course not know how this experience could influenced her understanding, however, to comfort myself I imagine that she has learned about the importance of being attentive to body language of other beings.

  
Stern, D. N. (2003). Spebarnets intersubjective verden (Ø. Randers-Pehrson, Trans.). Oslo: Gyldendal Akademisk.

Metaphors in Rain

The ninth RaAM-conference “Researching and Applying Metaphors” took place in Lancaster 4-7 July 2012. Apart from a number of interesting lectures that addressed metaphors in different ways, I had a chance to experience the beauties of contrasts in English summer weather; It was exactly the pouring rain that made the sun rays appear so powerful, the grass so green and the air so clean.

Many of the presentations I attended dealt with multimodal metaphors, including sounds and voice qualities, gestures, motions and visual metaphors in films, advertisements and conversations. My colleague from Vestfold University College, Professor Norunn Askeland, presented metaphors that her master degree students used to describe their writing processes; Prof. Alan Cienki presented his research on gestures in students’ conversations, and Prof. Raymond Gibbs addressed the issue of creativity and metaphors in his analysis of Charlie Sheen’s ways to address his audience on TV and Youtube-videos.

When Prof. Masako K. Higara, in the last plenary session, spoke about frogs and cicadas in the haiku texts by Bashõ Matsuo, I was thinking how actions and sounds of these creatures has to be experienced in real life if we were to understand the metaphorical meanings of the haiku poems.

My own presentation addressed young children’s “embodied metaphors”, which certainly are not identical to “real” metaphors from adult’s world (as some from my audience commented after the presentation). But if we start talking about real and not real, many things from childhood would not even qualify to be compared with adult’s things; one would not know what to compare them with since adult’s world is divided and structured in different areas and fields, while everything fuses in children’s holistic world. However, that we find children’s reasoning, experiencing and interacting difficult to understand, should not make them less important. And we should not view children as some kind of aliens that are not able to explain what they think; We have all been children and our childhood experiences, however unarticulated, will keep influencing our later ways of reasoning.

Through my paper “Creation of metaphors: Young children’s embodied metaphors and imaginative cognition” I tried to exemplify the processes of young children’s connections of past and present experiences. By doing that they become to understand that some things in the world are similar, but always dependent on the uniqueness of the contexts; Through imaginative connections of experiences, they seem to negotiate personal meanings as well as explore possibilities to communicate in understandable ways. As for instance, when the Spanish boy (see http://sculpturingwords.blogspot.co.uk/2011/01/our-mobile-bodies-move-though-world.html ) created his first multimodal expression for a horse, he later had to nuance and recreate the expression if he wanted to be understood by those who were not present in the context of his first horse-experience; To communicate we have to constrain our personal holistic experiences and make them shareable with others, but if we supress our individual experiences too much, some personal meanings might get lost.

Verbal language provides possibilities for sharing of common experiences, thoughts etc., but each of us has a unique combination of experiences and individual pre-dispositions to feel, perceive, imagine, create… Verbal language provides structures for organizing common understanding, but can also delimit individual experiences (Stern, 2003). Metaphors seem to make it possible to preserve at least some part of the holistic experiences. Children’s embodied metaphors are dynamic features that are supporting constant modifying of the existing version of their present understanding (Snodgrass and Coyne, 1992), and supporting their search for appropriate ways to communicate with others.

References:
Snodgrass, A., & Coyne, R. (1992). Models, metaphors and the hermeneutics of designing. Design Issues, 9(1), 56-74.
Stern, D. N. (1998). The interpersonal world of the infant: a view from psychoanalysis and developmental psychology. London: Karnac.

Against Seat Belts

On one of my plane trips I happened to sit beside a two year old girl and her mother, more precisely: I was sitting by the window and the girl was sitting (or supposed to sit) between her mother and me. It took some time before the plane was ready to take off, and the girl had enough time to explore the foldable table, her toys, colourful crayons and books. The time seemed to pass very slowly and the air was hot hotter inside the plane. Fearing for the girl’s reaction to the unavoidable seat-belt-tying, the girl’s mother was waiting as long as possible before she finally had to attach the belt around the girl. The girl protested. The mother then tried to place the girl on her lap and use the special seat belt, but the girl kept protesting more and more loudly. 

The mother desperately tried to talk to the girl and get her attention while she was struggling to hold her on her lap. The girl seemed to engage all of her muscles in order to get free. She was expressing her discomfort through loud screams and cry, and was persistent in her resistance to sitting.

Only a half meter away, I could not avoid noticing the desperate struggle of the mother, and looks from the people with their well-behaving children. I could not avoid hearing the girl’s cry, which was louder than the plane engines, “ear-hurting” …. and heart-braking. During these long minutes I kept switching my points of view: an irritated passenger, desperate mother and frustrated girl.

I observed the stressed flight attendants and glances of people who were sending toys in hope to calm the girl down. I tried to imagine the mother’s experience: feeling sorry for her child, feeling guilty for disturbing the passengers as well as for being so hard with her daughter; I observed the girl: she was like in trance and did not seem to pay any attention to other people and things, but her own embodied experience. That her mother did not respond to her wishes seemed to make her not only sad, but devastated. What possibly hurt her most was that she could not understand why she had to be tied down – and there was no way to explain in way that could make sense to her.

I felt compassion for both the girl and her mother, and in the second the girl’s eyes met mine I weaved to her to come and sit on my lap. I don’t think she could hear me through her screams and sighs, but she somehow understood my body-language or the facial expressions and accepted my offer. Her mother helped her over to my lap at the moment the plane was taking off, and the girl almost instantly fell asleep. Deep sighs remained for the following 30 minutes. The little body, soaked in sweat and tears, glued to my clothes… and to my heart.

The image: http://madsiers.com/tag/babies-on-a-plane/

The Present Moment

Few days ago I observed fingers of a young girl: they were tirelessly moving, touching, puling, rotating or squeezing everything they came in contact with. Accompanying the fingers, her eyes and ears were attuned to the same sources of interest, and even though some of the 34 people around her could have interrupted her, she remained engaged in the same small details that had captured her attention. Her attention, activities, thoughts and senses seemed to be merging in the moments of experiencing, as Dewey (2005 [1934]) suggests experiences always are: compact “packages”of merging feelings, thoughts and senses. The girl was truly present in her own experiencing – totally engaged in the present moments as if nothing else existed.

Stern (2004) says that life is always lived in the present moment. It cannot be different. Unable to release ourselves from the constant flow of time (except in dreams and some other extraordinary events) we are unable to get back to exactly the same place in time; contexts are always new. Each moment is unique and unrepeatable. Each experience is unique, but only when we dare to live it… in the unique, present moment.

The images (still and in motion) are captured from exactly the same place, on days with no wind - amazing how the leaves were falling all by themselves. The fourth time I intended to take a photo, the trees were gone…



References:
Dewey, J. (2005 [1934]). Art as experience. New York: Berkley Publishing Group.
Stern, D. N. (2004). The present moment in psychotherapy and everyday life. New York, London: W.W. Norton & Company.