Reminds me of one of my favorite quotes from the quotes thread.
At home there was a game that all the parents played with their children. It was called, What Did You See? Mara was about Dann’s age when she was first called into her father’s room one evening, where he sat in his big carved and coloured chair. He said to her, ‘And now we are going to play a game. What was the thing you liked best today?’
At first she chattered: ‘I played with my cousin . . . I was out with Shera in the garden . . . I made a stone house.’ And then he had said, ‘Tell me about the house.’ And she said, ‘I made a house of the stones that come from the river bed.’ And he said, ‘Now tell me about the stones.’ And she said, ‘They were mostly smooth stones, but some were sharp and had different shapes.’ ‘Tell me what the stones looked like, what colour they were, what did they feel like.’
And by the time the game ended she knew why some stones were smooth and some sharp and why they were different colours, some cracked, some so small they were almost sand. She knew how rivers rolled stones along and how some of them came from far away. She knew that the river had once been twice as wide as it was now. There seemed no end to what she knew, and yet her father had not told her much, but kept asking questions so she found the answers in herself. Like, ‘Why do you think some stones are smooth and round and some still sharp?’ And she thought and replied, ‘Some have been in the water a long time, rubbing against other stones, and some have only just been broken off bigger stones.’ Every evening, either her father or her mother called her in for What Did You See? She loved it. During the day, playing outside or with her toys, alone or with other children, she found herself thinking, Now notice what you are doing, so you can tell them tonight what you saw.
She had thought that the game did not change; but then one evening she was there when her little brother was first asked, What Did You See? and she knew just how much the game had changed for her. Because now it was not just What Did You See? but: What were you thinking? What made you think that? Are you sure that thought is true?
When she became seven, not long ago, and it was time for school, she was in a room with about twenty children – all from her family or from the Big Family – and the teacher, her mother’s sister, said, ‘And now the game: What Did You See?’
Most of the children had played the game since they were tiny; but some had not, and they were pitied by the ones that had, for they did not notice much and were often silent when the others said, ‘I saw . . .’, whatever it was. Mara was at first upset that this game played with so many at once was simpler, more babyish, than when she was with her parents. It was like going right back to the earliest stages of the game: ‘What did you see?’ ‘I saw a bird.’ ‘What kind of a bird?’ ‘It was black and white and had a yellow beak.’ ‘What shape of beak? Why do you think the beak is shaped like that?’
Then she saw what she was supposed to be understanding: Why did one child see this and the other that? Why did it sometimes need several children to see everything about a stone or a bird or a person?
Sounds a bit like the What do you see games that we play. And a bit like the Why-game (which always in the end leads to “because of physics” or “because somebody wants it”). But not all games work for all children.
And a bit like the Why-game (which always in the end leads to “because of physics” or “because somebody wants it”).
I don’t personally have children and don’t know how much they are capable of understanding these things or being interested in it anymore, but I still have to ask—is there any particular reason why you have to stop at that point? Those sound more like semantic stop signs EY has talked about, and not real explanations. For example, you could still try to explain why people generally want these things in certain situations maybe even using cognitive science and psychology as help.
I have thought that if I ever have children and they ask me these “why” questions and I have some spare time, I will continue to answer until the child is not interested in doing it anymore, all the way down to quarks, probability arrows or whatever. Actually I’d love to do it. If I don’t know much about some subject, I could learn more about it myself from books or the internet and it’d be pretty cool even if the kid was asking just for the sake of it.
Oh I didn’t stop at “because people want it” on the first round. I did continue answering that people feel this and that way. But you cannot explain psychology too deeply to a five year old—there is just not enough terminology you can build on (and using to detached words will not do). So you are bound to appeal to empathy (which children have) and the second time around the answer is really “don’t you feel that way too?”.
As for the physics. The answer is not litereally “physics” but physics at a level where you also have no more words you can build on. There is a point where analogy to waves can get you only so far. Sure sometime the correct terminology has to be used. And a why game can be such a point. But then this really leaves the “and why that” chain and goes into story mode or experiment mode or physical phenomenon mode.
There is a difference between saying “because that’s just how it is” (semantic stop sign) and saying “because of reasons that you can’t understand yet, but will when you grow up”. How do you make sure you are saying the second, and do you think your children understand that?
Because I do not really stop at that point. I may stop in the chain of a why game. But the topics will come up again and again in different locations. For example when my sons ask how many is “million times million times million times million” I will not just answer “septillion” (*) but e.g. try to illustrate this with an example like “water particles within a spoonful of water”. Or if we heat sugar in a pan to make caramel I might note that the sugar partical hpentagons break up or form new structures. Or if we speak about respiration I will (building on oxidaition in fire) to explain that the lung equalizes oxygen and CO2 levels of air and blood.
Note that in German this is “Quadrillion” nicely verbalizing exponentiation via ‘quad’=‘four’ times multiplication of million.
Note that in German this is “Quadrillion” nicely verbalizing exponentiation via ‘quad’=‘four’ times multiplication of million.
I didn’t know that. German is my own native language (and AFAIK many others work the same). I’m not very good with large numbers (I usually count them: “million, milliard, billion, billiard...”), so that helps.
It is easy. For example Avogadros number is roughly 10^-24 (for the purpose of estimating numbers of particles in natural phenomena) thus 24=4∙6 thus million^4 thus “Quadrillion” in German. And one googol is 10^100 and 100 = 16∙6+3+1 thus 10 “Sedezilliarden” (from 16=sedecem) albeit all this doesn’t work in English at least not so easily.
Incidentally, while I love that quote (and used the game in my MLP fanfiction), the book it comes from is not one I’d recommend.
I’m also not sure how empirically valid it is (i.e. does asking this game actually make the children more curious and perceptive?), and am not sure what balance parents should strike between questions and answers. Other stories of childhood development seem to focus on parents always surprising their children with new things to notice and think about; the example that comes to mind is Feynman’s father often bringing things to his attention, and a question game may be suboptimal for that goal.
This method of asking children to remember and describe their experiences has long traditions and was praised by Charlotte Mason in her Home education series (link to the whole text). Charlotte Mason considered this a great way to teach children perceptiveness and excercise their recall, as well as provide information about the environment (compare volume 1 pages 46-52).
Though her pedagogy is sometimes laughably wrong (blame the state of knowledge about human body and development in late 18th century) it is still generally relevant and, in consequence, popular among homeschoolers (a quick google search will confirm).
If you take into account that by asking questions you focus on some areas of development but not on others, then Feynman senior’s method might be a good complement to it.
Now that you mention Feynman I recollect that I actually used one of the games/stories from Feynmans autobiography for my children: A story of some very small dwarfs that wandered thru a strange land of regular red and blue trees: Ants on a carpet. It was very interesting for my second son who has a very high interest in plants and animals and who after I told the story took his pocket microscope http://www.amazon.de/gp/product/B000OZXY22/ref=oh_details_o00_s00_i00?ie=UTF8&psc=1 and looked at the capet and said: ‘it looks like grass’.
Reminds me of one of my favorite quotes from the quotes thread.
Doris Lessing, “Mara and Dann”
Sounds a bit like the What do you see games that we play. And a bit like the Why-game (which always in the end leads to “because of physics” or “because somebody wants it”). But not all games work for all children.
I don’t personally have children and don’t know how much they are capable of understanding these things or being interested in it anymore, but I still have to ask—is there any particular reason why you have to stop at that point? Those sound more like semantic stop signs EY has talked about, and not real explanations. For example, you could still try to explain why people generally want these things in certain situations maybe even using cognitive science and psychology as help.
I have thought that if I ever have children and they ask me these “why” questions and I have some spare time, I will continue to answer until the child is not interested in doing it anymore, all the way down to quarks, probability arrows or whatever. Actually I’d love to do it. If I don’t know much about some subject, I could learn more about it myself from books or the internet and it’d be pretty cool even if the kid was asking just for the sake of it.
Oh I didn’t stop at “because people want it” on the first round. I did continue answering that people feel this and that way. But you cannot explain psychology too deeply to a five year old—there is just not enough terminology you can build on (and using to detached words will not do). So you are bound to appeal to empathy (which children have) and the second time around the answer is really “don’t you feel that way too?”.
As for the physics. The answer is not litereally “physics” but physics at a level where you also have no more words you can build on. There is a point where analogy to waves can get you only so far. Sure sometime the correct terminology has to be used. And a why game can be such a point. But then this really leaves the “and why that” chain and goes into story mode or experiment mode or physical phenomenon mode.
There is a difference between saying “because that’s just how it is” (semantic stop sign) and saying “because of reasons that you can’t understand yet, but will when you grow up”. How do you make sure you are saying the second, and do you think your children understand that?
Because I do not really stop at that point. I may stop in the chain of a why game. But the topics will come up again and again in different locations. For example when my sons ask how many is “million times million times million times million” I will not just answer “septillion” (*) but e.g. try to illustrate this with an example like “water particles within a spoonful of water”. Or if we heat sugar in a pan to make caramel I might note that the sugar partical hpentagons break up or form new structures. Or if we speak about respiration I will (building on oxidaition in fire) to explain that the lung equalizes oxygen and CO2 levels of air and blood.
Note that in German this is “Quadrillion” nicely verbalizing exponentiation via ‘quad’=‘four’ times multiplication of million.
Now I’m venturing into off-topic territory, but:
I didn’t know that. German is my own native language (and AFAIK many others work the same). I’m not very good with large numbers (I usually count them: “million, milliard, billion, billiard...”), so that helps.
It is easy. For example Avogadros number is roughly 10^-24 (for the purpose of estimating numbers of particles in natural phenomena) thus 24=4∙6 thus million^4 thus “Quadrillion” in German. And one googol is 10^100 and 100 = 16∙6+3+1 thus 10 “Sedezilliarden” (from 16=sedecem) albeit all this doesn’t work in English at least not so easily.
Eventually you do need to come to a stop sign, because you shouldn’t always ask ‘why’ one more time even though you could.
Once you’ve gotten down to bedrock physics seems like a good time to stop. There are better wordings than the one you provided.
Incidentally, while I love that quote (and used the game in my MLP fanfiction), the book it comes from is not one I’d recommend.
I’m also not sure how empirically valid it is (i.e. does asking this game actually make the children more curious and perceptive?), and am not sure what balance parents should strike between questions and answers. Other stories of childhood development seem to focus on parents always surprising their children with new things to notice and think about; the example that comes to mind is Feynman’s father often bringing things to his attention, and a question game may be suboptimal for that goal.
This method of asking children to remember and describe their experiences has long traditions and was praised by Charlotte Mason in her Home education series (link to the whole text). Charlotte Mason considered this a great way to teach children perceptiveness and excercise their recall, as well as provide information about the environment (compare volume 1 pages 46-52).
Though her pedagogy is sometimes laughably wrong (blame the state of knowledge about human body and development in late 18th century) it is still generally relevant and, in consequence, popular among homeschoolers (a quick google search will confirm).
If you take into account that by asking questions you focus on some areas of development but not on others, then Feynman senior’s method might be a good complement to it.
Now that you mention Feynman I recollect that I actually used one of the games/stories from Feynmans autobiography for my children: A story of some very small dwarfs that wandered thru a strange land of regular red and blue trees: Ants on a carpet. It was very interesting for my second son who has a very high interest in plants and animals and who after I told the story took his pocket microscope http://www.amazon.de/gp/product/B000OZXY22/ref=oh_details_o00_s00_i00?ie=UTF8&psc=1 and looked at the capet and said: ‘it looks like grass’.