Biking in today

If this doesn’t seem like an Early Childhood issue, well, read on.

Yesterday’s Observer seems to have moved into the anti-cycling camp, even if only to give some publicity to the people who want to ban bikes from disturbing the tranquillity of driving.  UKIP, for example – I know, an extreme example –  have some much-publicised things to say about how “cyclists” must not be allowed to “cause unacceptable delays to traffic.” It made this morning’s bike ride a little less pleasant, although the Anthriscus Arvensis and the smell of blossom from the trees (yes, I am sorry for the Hay Fever sufferers)  did much to alleviate my gloom.

But, because I was aware of how unwelcome I and other cyclists can be, what I did see were an awful lot of idiot cyclists and impatient drivers: the suited chap on his bike who went through the red lights and still only reached Oxford station at much the same time as I did; the Oxford bus driver who seemed to think his new, loud horn needed sharing with lots of people – and I have to contrast that with the cyclist who chatted with me at the traffic lights, and the bus driver who gave me a “thank you” flash of indicators when I let him pull out.

So what has this got to do with Early Years? It just made me think: what if as road users we based our thinking and behaviours on four themes similar to those underpinning the Early Years Foundation Stage?  We might end up with something like this:

Every road user  is a unique road user, who is constantly learning and can be resilient, capable, confident and self-assured;

Cyclists and drivers  learn to be respectful of each other’s needs  through positive relationships;

Road users  learn and develop well in enabling environments, in which their experiences respond to their individual needs and there is a strong partnership between legislation, signage, reasonable use of road space and understanding of one another’s needs;

Some road users are not always immediately aware of others’ needs. Just as children develop Theory of Mind in different ways and at different rates, we all need to take responsibility for how our road use teaches others .

Ah well, just a thought…

 

Closer to nature with Cravendale?

I said earlier this year I’d return to this later, and here I am doing so, at least in some sort of sideways view.

This campaign from ARLA is worth noting, and has attracted national interest – at least, a piece from the BBC. I’m not sure linking nature to recession wholly makes the case; what Arla seem to be seeking to do through their Nature Adventure Club is aiding parents and teachers with the bigger project of getting children outside. It stems from their report (now over a year old) about children not being able to tell a wasp from a bee – again, as I recall, something the BBC looked at on Countryfile. We might argue that facts aren’t key – but the Adventure Club does seem to be more than this.

My tone sounds like I’m suspicious; I’m not. This link gives at least their own take on Arla, and it is really good to see a major dairy producer (they produce Lurpak for example, and this is the link to the company overview) giving a helping hand to healthier lifestyles.  Well done to a big company for supporting a health and education initiative!

Playing Outdoors

Some very interesting links here for the New Year, for example this one on play in the Early Years or the more general link to a map (which perhaps could do with a bit of elaboration – I note some gaps round Oxford for example!!).

The Play In Schools position paper is also well worth a read, despite being 6 years from its publication.  Despite? Perhaps because. How much movement has there been? Are we now seeing a return to formalisation in schooling which will cost play dear? Or will it simply mean a clearer line between the two – “Work hard, play hard” as my head teacher used to say – except he was thinking of rugby, which I found more of a trial than Greek.

Nostalgia, Comfort and Risk in Young Children’s Literature

It would be over-ambitious to try and encapsulate a history of landscape or picturesque landscape painting into this short paper – even the origins of the term landscape have been queried – but following Cosgrove, it is “way of seeing the world,” with “an aspect of meaning that lies beyond science, the understanding of which cannot be reduced to formal processes.” In terms of landscape painting, this ca be seen as an attempt to grasp a “deeper meaning” or to imbue a scene with meaning – so that in Gainsborough’s Mr and Mrs Andrews we are presented with land as managed and ownable. Landscape painting emerges most powerfully in traditional Western Art, Cosgrove asserts, precisely at the point where the political change and tensions of the C18th require it. Prince is bolder: “One appeal of picturesque art was precisely its escape from the stresses and disturbances caused by Agrarian changes” and thus conversation-pieces like Mr and Mrs Andrews or even the considered landscape of Constable’s Golding Constable’s Kitchen Garden (NB this link  is to a pencil sketch in the V&A) present visual evidence of human intervention into a natural world.

That there is a further element of the fantastic in the three images I want to discuss does not remove them from this painterly tradition – in fact, there is an interplay between this tradition and the intentions of the Ahlbergs and author and illustrator that I suggest is deliberate. There are, for example, visual borrowings – meandering rivers, church spires seen at a distance, that act as signifiers of location but also as a subtle joke. This is a fantasy land, but this is recognisable England. The same sort of visual reference is made in the illustrations Tolkein made, where the Shire, for all its round doors and houses in hillsides, quotes from a view of rural Englishness that has been recognisable since Gainsborough. To misquote Peter Porter, “this is not Athens, but it may be the woods of Warwickhire.” It is interesting to note, of course , as a sideline, that this is the same device by which Shakespeare’s own rural England becomes fantasy world, and that it is the very same region of Arden that encompasses Tolkein’s childhood. This nostalgia for the rural has an ancient lineage itself: the first-century Roman poet Horace (whose poetry constitutes part of the Classical tradition in English education) discusses his desire to return to his farm and its clear spring water , and the poem continues to have influences in the work of writers such as Wordsworth, Hopkins and Joyce

Here we come close to something like my main argument: in using English landscape, Janet Ahlberg is not only “collecting” – which was the modus operandi behind so much of the detail in her work – landscapes, and English ones were the most accessible but consciously drawing on the conventions –the “easy tricks” as Gombrich calls them of English landscape painting which are themselves echoed in books Janet relished as a child such as Rupert Bear . In the Jolly Postman we have wooden signposts, hills with small fields, the church spire on the horizon; the same landscape appears in the two other books I am considering. I should perhaps mention that I have excluded from my discussion the urban landscapes of any of Cops and Robbers and Burglar Bill, and that in any case this use of landscape is not unique to Janet Ahlberg – we might not only cite Tolkein, but poignantly closer in genre, Allan Ahlberg’s later collaborator, Andre Amstutz.

Siting the Ahlbergs within this tradition is one thing; in seeking to explore the three themes promised by my title, we need to move from this basic stance to look at the issue of why children’s book authors and illustrators set children’s books in the past, exploring why they do so and when that past might be located. I feel that the answer lies in the rise of landscape painting itself. If Prince is right that there is an escapist element to landscape painting, it might be possible to see an element of escapism in the nostalgic representations in the three works under consideration.

In a brief overview of ecocritcism Gifford’s Recent Critiques of Ecocriticism two contrasting models of criticism are put forward, in a context which the author freely admits is rather difficult to define: what has been called the “praise-song school,” in which the individual writers from Thoreau to Mabey are celebrated for their insights can be contrasted with a ‘second wave’ which, to give the briefest of overviews is more aware of its own cultural and political engagement. It is with this interpretative model in mind that we look at Nostalgia and Comfort.

One theory might be that the deliberate nostalgia of the characters in the three books draws on a continuing tradition of setting traditional tales in the past: in Each Peach Pear Plum, for example, the costumes seem to draw on C18th domestic clothing (Mother Hubbard in the cellar, Jack and Jill in the ditch) , and Edwardian hunting clothes of the three bears, with a nod to the mediaeval attire of Robin Hood. The appeal of the C18th and Edwardian periods for these characters/setting could be precisely because they represent possible Golden Ages, the “Good Old Days” to which the dinosaur refers in Jeremiah in the Dark Woods, or at least the eve of radical changes to society, the changes of from rural to urban life experiences in C19th, the societal changes brought about by the war(s) of the C20th. . The appeal of this desire for a return to a golden age in childhood might be, as Coe suggests, that “…it is not so much that the child itself, now an adult, has forever outgrown the splendors [sic] of the past, but rather than civilization and “progress” have annihilated, perhaps totally and irretrievably, an ancient way of life and replaced it with something crude, rootless and modern.” Certainly the use of a dinosaur to express the desire for “the good old days, them good old days as is gone forever” underlines the annihilation of the past.

Another way of seeing these is in terms of the comfort, the reassurance historical continuity can provide. This, again, is not isolated to the Ahlbergs, or to younger children’s literature, and is attested in other children’s writers, for example Rudyard Kipling and Lucy Boston. The latter is very clear:
“Readers of The Children of Green Knowe might suppose Green Knowe was my family home. This is not so. It came to me by accident… My passionate desire that it should have a future made me provide it in the books with such a firm lineage.”

Her description of finding an historical artefact – a beaver’s tooth – is very similar to that of Kipling’s workmen finding Roman remains when digging a new well at Bateman’s, where he claims the genius loci of the valley inspired his seeing key episodes of British history played out on the local scale: Kipling’s comments on his search for “roots” in writing Puck of Pook’s Hill:
I…began to ‘hatch’ in which state I was ‘a brother to dragons and a companion to owls’…The Old Things of our valley glided into every aspect of our outdoor works. Earth, Air, Water and People had been – I saw it at last – in full conspiracy to give me ten times as much as I could compass.

Both authors point to a need to connect with a past for sureness – and it is perhaps significant, to return to an earlier point, that they both have these experiences overshadowed within a few years by war.
“To all children, and particularly to small children, a love of the past is natural. It is the soil at their roots. They have but recently emerged from the stuff of it. It gives them comfort, security and a pattern”

Her use of land imagery is to be noted; Kipling and Boston share a sense of what Boston calls “racial memory” and represent it in their books. It is possible to see the nostalgic representations in the Ahlbergs in a similar vein – but this is a conjecture; so far the evidence is lacking.

Note that the text prepared for the conference paper was referenced.  Sources and further reading would include

Ahlberg, A. (1996). Janet’s Last Book, Printed for private circulation by the author.

Coe, R. (1984). When the Grass was Taller: Autobiography and the Experience of Childhood. New Haven, Yale University Press.

Cosgrove, D. (1982). Social formation and symbolic landscape. Madison, University of Wisconsin Press.

Gifford, T (2008).  Recent Critiques of Ecocritcism, New Formations Spring 2006: 64: 15-24

Kipling, R (Library Ed., 1951) Something of Myself. London, MacMillan.

Mabey, R (2006). Nature Cure. London: Pimlico Books.

Prince, H. (1988). Art and Agrarian Change 1710-1815 In Denis Cosgrove, Stephen Daniels. The iconography of landscape. Cambridge, Cambridge University Press: 98-118.

Rosendale, S. ed (2002). The Greening of Literary Scholarship: literature, theory and the environment. Iowa, University of Iowa Press.

Wet play times

“My” PGCE students are out on their first day of what we term their first school experience, and the rain has tipped down, and the winds are high. It reminds me of my very first play time that I had to supervise and it was announced (perhaps somewhat gleefully by an older teacher) as Wet Play Time.

It was a bear garden, if by that term we can conjure up a hundred bears and probably about 75 crayons and the longest piece of paper – from one end of the hall to the other – and twenty minutes of frenzied drawing.

Did I mind it? Well, it was an eye-opener as to how much these rather daunting and serious-minded children could throw themselves into a rather ad hoc activity. No, it was fine, except perhaps for gathering them all together at the end. What gave me pause for thought was what counts as unsuitable weather.  Rain is out, for starters, apparently.

Then, after a stretch of some four years, I found myself in the pouring rain with a bunch of four year olds, watching water pour down the leaky gutter onto the pumpkin they had grown. We all got wet and cold, and took about an hour to invent ways of collecting water, harvest pumpkins, and so on. I thought I was very brave, smugly. I can see now I was learning.

Move forward to this morning, and my thoughts turning to the baptism by fire that might, in some schools, be Wet Play Time for the PGCE students. I find, with a bit of help, two starkly contrasting visions of outdoor play: this from Norway and this from the UK .  The emphasis on risk and protection from the v enthusiastic advocates in UK is entirely valid, but the conversations (and in some ways the actitivities) are dominated by the notion of staying safe.

Both sets of practitioners  would  claim that “Being happy, being outside and getting fresh air is clearly important for today’s children” as Heidi, the Norwegian school leader states. This is close to the four dimensions of outdoors mentioned by the Kaplans that I have discussed before: Being Away; Extent; Fascination; Compatibility. What is most striking is the degree to which they do this, the degree of Extent to use Kaplan’s phrase – one setting being next to a (doubtless quite cold) lake, where the staff meeting (in a tepee) discusses (at 12 mins 50 in the clip) being able to see the children after the winter sun disappears, and the other in a UK garden where an island is manufactured with a tarpaulin sheet (6 mins 20) and you have to pretend it’s deep water. Look at the Norway clip around 10 mins in, and see the match incident, to see real instruction, real involvement. It’s there in the UK, of course – as in the box play (4 mins 50) – but contrast that to the mountain walk in Norway (16 mins 20).

There are huge issues of confidence here – adults’ trust in the resilience of children, parents’ trust in the staff (and we can note the difference in the videos between advocating the outdoors to parents in the UK, and the parents’ voices in Norway) the staff’s trust in their understanding of the children: a mutual upbuilding of a project, arising from respect and common ideals. Is that what we’re lacking in the UK context?

Old Road

To return to Rachel Kaplan’s argument I began to explore a while back – really to revisit my walk (not really very adventurous)  up Old Rd in Headington to the Hollow Way down into Wheatley.

The Kaplans (Kaplan and Kaplan 1989 p182) suggest four key elements to the outdoors as as restorative experience:  Being Away; Extent; Fascination; Compatibility. And I saw the first two today, most powerfully evidenced in the diminution of background noise. It isn’t just that urban rumble itself disturbs, surely? This article suggests it is, and I present the link without comment. It just makes me think that “Away” is possibly away from the urban stressors of background noise, this allowing greater fascination, itself requiring extent and compatibility.

Are they all so mutually interdependent for everyone- or is it just that in the quiet on Shotover I became so much more aware of my internal chatter and my need to still it? It was just a personal thing I’m sure,  how I felt stilled on the other side of the hill, looking out at the smudge of trees in the rain, and the red kites wheeling over a ploughed field.

Gardeners

Isabel Colegate’s book A Pelican in the Wilderness has some interesting stories and she tells them well. I am particularly grateful for the information towards the end about Holly Hill, a place that I will always remember fondly and in some ways aspire to.
The narrative that I found especially useful, however, was the connections she made between the eremitical tradition, the Romantic Movement and garden design. And it made me think: is the mature garden envisioned by Capability Brown and Inigo Jones really the garden of the Romantic?

And is this idealized perfect landscape also the world in miniature, or the wild wood tamed – and hence is it Outside in children’s literature?