When Children Love to Learn: A Practical Application of Charlotte Mason's Philosophy for Today

by Eve Anderson

She also reminded us that the goal of physical education is self-discipline, so that coaching and supervision become less necessary as the students learn teamwork and sportsmanship as habits. For these to become habitual, they cannot be “practiced at school and relaxed at home.”85 This reminder cannot be overemphasized today.

Miss Mason utters a quite contemporary note by including heroes in physical education. She encouraged reading about Greek games and the “heroic impulse.” She knew the value of an athletic role model, especially one who exemplified chastity, fortitude, courage, constancy, prudence, and temperance.86 Unfortunately, parents and teachers must search diligently today to find such examples, but they do exist. From Eric Liddell to Jim Ryun to Gail Devers to John Smoltz, heroic athletes may still be found to inspire our children today.

“[T]he human hand is a wonderful and exquisite instrument to be used in a hundred movements exacting delicacy, direction and force; every such movement is a cause of joy as it leads to the pleasure of execution and the triumph of success.”87 I am reminded of this “exquisite instrument” in some of its first encounters of holding a crayon, tying a lace, and molding clay. I am also reminded of the “cause of joy” from these first movements to the varied exclamations of delight and the self-fulfillment in seeing what hand hath wrought. This joy is not usually sustained past the primary years of schooling, for the child matures and puts away play. What has become of the work of his hands? His hands now hold pencil and pen to execute language, a ball to demonstrate skill, and a mouse to manipulate image. Real effort is required to train the young in the deft handling of tools and the practice of handicrafts. It was what Charlotte Mason was urging as she spoke of each child having a relationship with a vast number of things. “He practices various handicrafts that he may know the feel of wood, clay, leather and the joy of handling tools, that is, that he may establish a due relationship with materials.”88

As with all of the practices of the PNEU, there were principles to bear in mind through the instruction and implementation of this relationship of the work of the hands. First, the children would not be “employed in making futilities such as pea and stick work, paper mats and the like.” In other words, the work must not be accomplished in vain. It was not what we identify as macaroni-and-refrigerator art, but it involved hands touching varied mediums in expression of self. As always, it was “the book, the knowledge, the clay, the bird or blossom he thinks of, not his own place in the class or his own progress.”89 Handwork was to be appreciated and useful, following lines of form, order, and beauty. Second, the children were to be “taught slowly and carefully what to do.” They were to work in diverse mediums and gain familiarity with materials and tools. This goal was not accomplished in a single lesson but in single projects over the length of the twelve-week term. Third, slipshod work was not allowed. No work was given a child that she could not execute perfectly. Immediately, the word perfect conjures up many a memory of dissatisfaction for any or all work attempted. This “perfect work” was not in the sense of flawlessness, but that which was attempted with both heart and hand. Today it seems more often than not that any attempt on the child’s part is met with an exclamation of praise whether or not it meets the desired aim. It is not enough that the child has participat...

Children need generous time to run about in the fresh air; time to skip; climb, and play; time to walk on cool grass barefoot; time to dig in the earth or wade in a stream. They all need time for imaginative play—not organized games (though these have their place). In this age, many children are deprived of play at home. Perhaps they are driven in a car from home to classrooms. After school they are driven home. Maybe the parents are afraid to let them play outside in the neighborhood. So children sit and watch hours of videos and TV or play computer games rather than anything else. Children are arriving at school without having had experience with play that springs from their own imaginations. Consequently, this type of play is a great, great need—dressing up, using “props” such as boxes to make forts, anything that can enrich the scene. People respond, “But the children don’t want to play. They say they are bored.” These children need rehabilitation. One teacher packed away all the textbooks and workbooks in his inner-city classroom. Because his students were so troublesome that no one hoped much for them anymore, he was permitted to “waste” his time. Desks were pushed back; he brought in cushions and some traditional illustrated fairy-tale books. He told them they weren’t going to do schoolwork for a few days (sighs of relief and curiosity). He had some favorite stories, and he’d read them one (more relief, nobody trying to get them to do more practice on the three R’s ...

Teachers! They give, serve, and open doors for children. They may or may not see the fruit of their work. But for such children as young Schaeffer, if the teacher does not do this, perhaps no one will. If we cannot take over an entire school, or even a classroom, we could do something along the lines Marion Berry writes about—after-school activities in a homelike environment. Could not a group or church see this as a community mission or service? Is this not a way to be salt and light just where we are? Why not provide such places? Children need to belong to a stable group, following a steadying pattern. Homelike after-school centers could make a great contribution. These would need to be small and personal; the children have already spent a day in school. There should be a genuine welcome, someone to get to know the child, be a friend. Perhaps nobody has ever read one of these good books aloud to them. There are lots of possibilities for adapting a banquet of learning into a picnic or supper snack!

Some who have read Charlotte Mason think that in teaching their own children, they can apply her ideas according to personal whims. Finding out how powerfully a child learns and responds to literature, some make the mistake of believing that reading mostly enjoyable literary books will offer a complete education! Others are afraid of any textbook. They have the mistaken idea that every school subject should be “fun.” Practicing the scales while learning to play the piano, learning new vocabulary when studying French, learning the times tables need not be fun at all. We must understand that “everything in life includes duty.” But it is our job to balance duty and fun. Such “drills,” if they don’t last too long, become part of a routine. A curriculum can insure that we offer a balanced education to the child.

She’d visit a needy family and bring books to read with the children. Almost all mothers hope for better things for their children, and if they meet friendliness and a real relationship rather than condescension, people don’t feel defensive about their situation. Of course, this can only work if the person coming in really does respect the family and can be entirely natural and confident. Anyway, they would chat, and the girl would read the storybooks to the children. The books were left until the next “library visit.” Such a plan can have a profound effect on a child and family.

In such imaginative ways the life-giving banquet can be spread for those with few advantages. Jesus Himself commended all efforts on behalf of the poor. In this case, the families were from inner-city situations where there is such need. But, of course, actual physical poverty is not the only problem. There is a poverty of the mind, a neglect of the heart—our society teems with lonely people. Many do not enjoy good relationships in stable families and communities, let alone relationships with great minds and ideas through books, art, music—or any enjoyment of nature. Even fewer thrive in a satisfying relationship with the Creator. In other words, these were totally empty, rootless lives. Poverty comes in many forms.

In our busy society one could even have a “play club” where children would not be organized at all but would be able to gravitate to areas with various resources for play set out. Such a situation may be familiar in the nursery stage, but many older children don’t have access at home to art and craft materials in one area or an attractive, quiet, and comfortable living room area with interesting books displayed. While some children flop down to relax in a corner, others are dressing up in a room with a full-length mirror and a rack of “costumes.” They’ll often go on to act out pretend situations.

Children love access to scrap pine, hammers, nails, and other tools. It would be ideal to have a few acres outside for play—with bushes to make camps under. A kitchen for real cooking is an attraction too. However, the location does not have to be ideal. It is wonderful to be able to provide such truly good things as space, order, and inviting materials both in and out of doors. But if there is no outdoors space, then an indoor hall imaginatively used is better than nothing. Once again the quality of adult relationships with the child or teenager is the most vital factor. This relationship factor is why homelike routines such as eating together or sitting talking quietly one on one are such gifts to the young. Especially today. It is a gift to give them relationships with actual persons rather than unending televised images on a screen. It is a gift to remove the screens and provide real materials to use and play with. It is a gift to introduce thought through good books, art, and music. Enjoyment of nature—watching the wind blow trees, hearing birds sing, gazing carefully at ants—can generate a life’s inner balance and peace.

All the degrees and high salaries in the world will mean nothing if the soul is not rooted into the ground of God’s truth. The most “excellent education” is like a house being built. Unless it has foundations on the Rock that is Jesus Christ, the person has not entered the most vital relationship of all, getting to know God, His Word, and His works. Listening, trusting, and obeying God’s Word brings life.5

Perhaps we all can look to a meaningful learning experience in our own lives when a coach, teacher, parent, counselor, or professor created an atmosphere where optimal learning took place. Our loss is that these practices were not widely experienced. They were limited to a class, a teacher, and a discipline rather than being readily available to us through our entire schooling. It was Miss Mason’s vision that all children would have the opportunity to be educated according to these foundational principles every day and that students in turn would live full and free lives.

It is not the goal of the authors of this book to bring back a period in history, i.e., the Victorian, and imitate that manner of living and schooling in the twenty-first century. Nor are we keen on applying as a veneer some of the principles to an incompatible philosophy of education based on our own liking or the attractive nature of parts of the application. Rather, we hope to bring about a transformation in our own lives and in the lives of students as we look at education in the full scheme of things, i.e., the relationships of students with self, others, God, the world, and also the relationship of teachers with students, and teachers and students within the process of teaching and learning. It is here that Miss Mason was a pioneer in education, as she saw all of life within the context of relationships. She left for us a legacy of her work embodied in print and in the continuing rich lives of her students, all of which bear consideration. Now it rests with us to find the answer to so great a question: How is this education to be developed to be available to all of us?