Charlotte Mason advocated the use of oral or written narrations as a way of having a child report on his reading. There are several reasons that narration can be so helpful. Narrating a just-read passage helps a child to internalize and remember it, and aids reading comprehension. It’s also a great help to the homeschooling parent, who can find out immediately what and how much the child has absorbed.
Sounds simple enough, doesn’t it? Have your child read a short passage (anywhere from a paragraph to a chapter, depending on your child’s age and ability.) Then, have him tell you about it, in his own words. When your child is ten or eleven, you begin the transition to written narrations. It doesn’t get much simpler than that. Read a bit, talk a bit, read a bit, write a bit. What child wouldn’t prefer narration over a multi-page test?
In my experience, plenty of children would opt for the test when faced with the question, “Now, can you tell me about what you just read?” Some kids would opt for a visit to the dentist over narration.
Why does narration seem so painful? What causes a curious, talkative and outgoing child to suddenly retreat, clam up, and mumble things such as, “I dunno … ummm … I think … didn’t they … well, you just read it! You know what happened!”
Although I love many of Charlotte Mason’s ideas, I’ve found that in the practical day-to-day of homeschooling, not all of them work for us. Narration is one of those things that didn’t happen in a natural way for my children. Or, perhaps I should rephrase that. When I first began having my children narrate, it did happen in a natural way, but would rarely occur in a forced or formal way.
What I learned was that the value in narration came not from the way it was carried out, but in the fact that it was carried out at all. When my eldest daughter got nervous and clammed up at The Question, I learned that it wasn’t a comprehension problem or an inability to retell what she had read. If, for example, I asked her at dinner to tell her daddy about what happened that day in our Anne of Green Gables read-aloud, she could recount it with gusto, great expression and alarming detail. She just didn’t like being put on the spot to “perform” and that was what formal narration felt like to her.
So, we began what I like to call “clandestine narration.” Our narrations took the form of casual conversations, dinnertime chat, and letters to friends and family. When I pointed out to her that she was more than capable of retelling a story when she was relaxed, she began to relax about retelling in more formal ways. If she started to tense up during a requested narration, I would remind her to simply think of it as a letter to her favorite penpal, and the words would once again flow.
If you’ve been drawn to Charlotte Mason’s narration ideas, but haven’t been able to make them work in your homeschool, try altering the formal approach. There are loads of unconventional ways to draw a narration out of your child. With a little imagination and creativity, you can get your child narrating and soon – if your house is anything like ours — you won’t be able to get her to stop.
Related articles:
46 Alternatives to Writing a Book Report
Teaching Your Auditory Learner
What Your Kindergartener Should Know: Language Arts