An excerpt from Helen Keller's wonderful The Story of My Life:
- I remember the morning that I first asked the meaning of the word, "love." This was before I knew many words. I had found a few early violets in the garden and brought them to my teacher. She tried to kiss me: but at that time I did not like to have any one kiss me except my mother. Miss Sullivan put her arm gently round me and spelled into my hand, "I love Helen."
"What is love?" I asked.
She drew me closer to her and said, "It is here," pointing to my heart, whose beats I was conscious of for the first time. Her words puzzled me very much because I did not then understand anything unless I touched it.
I smelt the violets in her hand and asked, half in words, half in signs, a question which meant, "Is love the sweetness of flowers?"
"No," said my teacher.
Again I thought. The warm sun was shining on us.
"Is this not love?" I asked, pointing in the direction from which the heat came. "Is this not love?"
It seemed to me that there could be nothing more beautiful than the sun, whose warmth makes all things grow. But Miss Sullivan shook her head, and I was greatly puzzled and disappointed. I thought it strange that my teacher could not show me love.
A day or two afterward I was stringing beads of different sizes in symmetrical groups–two large beads, three small ones, and so on. I had made many mistakes, and Miss Sullivan had pointed them out again and again with gentle patience. Finally I noticed a very obvious error in the sequence and for an instant I concentrated my attention on the lesson and tried to think how I should have arranged the beads. Miss Sullivan touched my forehead and spelled with decided emphasis, "Think."
In a flash I knew that the word was the name of the process that was going on in my head. This was my first conscious perception of an abstract idea.
For a long time I was still–I was not thinking of the beads in my lap, but trying to find a meaning for "love" in the light of this new idea. The sun had been under a cloud all day, and there had been brief showers; but suddenly the sun broke forth in all its southern splendour.
Again, I asked my teacher, "Is this not love?"
"Love is something like the clouds that were in the sky before the sun came out," she replied. Then in simpler words than these, which at that time I could not have understood, she explained: "You cannot touch the clouds, you know; but you feel the rain and know how glad the flowers and the thirsty earth are to have it after a hot day. You cannot touch love either; but you feel the sweetness that it pours into everything. Without love you would not be happy or want to play."
The beautiful truth burst upon my mind–I felt that there were invisible lines stretched between my spirit and the spirits of others.
- In a flash I knew that the word was the name of the process that was going on in my head. This was my first conscious perception of an abstract idea.
This is an amazing thought. It suggests such a strange insulation of the mind. She could handle an abstract thought, but just didn't have the material for it. I would guess that our early abstract thoughts originate from objects going out of site, but not out of mind?
What I wonder is if they can be taught the difference, and then apply it at that age. It must be difficult to discern genuine developmental stages from average learning achievements. We have these large flashcards with different objects on them, and some of the flashcards just have colors. My daughter is just 3mo, but I've been holding up two object cards, then holding up the color card that matches one object. I then drop the card that doesn't match the color, and then act like we just did something great. I am wondering how long it will take before she can start to anticipate which card I will drop.
- That's fascinating, and terribly cute. I'm determined to get my daughter to understand the equal volumes thing before that age. :)
What I wonder is if they can be taught the difference, and then apply it at that age. It must be difficult to discern genuine developmental stages from average learning achievements.
That's a long debate, if you can even teach that stuff. One side wil say: the kids just can't understand it. They haven't reached that stage in their development yet; others will say: the child is just lacking information: if you do it right, she'll get it. Let us know how that goes. ;) The flashcard game seems really great. Now I, too, am wondering how long it'll take! Science is fun. edit: Oh, oh! You know what you should do? You should keep a list of the first fifty words she speaks. The first fifty are easy to notice, because she is learning slowly in this first period: she's still trying to control the musculaure of her mouth while attaching meaning to the sounds. But after a while, about the second year, it becomes more complicated: I think she is going to learn about a word per hour.
Tonight, for the first time she started asking "How are you doing"? Of course, she asked the dogs as much as she did her mother and I. aside: One thing that has really fascinated me is how in tune she is with her surroundings. She will say "wow" when she hears a plane in the sky and it will take us a few moments to realize what she's excited about. The world is a noisy place and for her to pick out that sound is pretty cool. Now she can point up to the sky and say "plane". One of her first words was "moon". She loves the moon and looks for it every time we are out. When she sees it she'll often say "oh wow, the moon". -It's so great. Sorry, proud papa weighing in.
I bet that you can fast forward development some. If you keep doing certain tasks, I think that you could drive development. I'd never want to fast forward maturity, however. She can learn all sorts of stuff, but I wouldn't cut her childhood short for anything. Those Doogie Howser parents make a big mistake, IMHO. EDIT: The 50 first words is not a bad idea. Currently she squeaks and says "coooo" "mwaaaa" and "agoooo".
I look forward to her knowing what to call "love". I know she feels it and she certainly gives it.