The Language of Grammar: Introduction

Grammar was an intimidating subject when I first started teaching. Much like my students, I worried about remembering all the rules, not to mention all the exceptions to the rules. Unlike my students, I had the teacher edition of the textbook. Lucky me!

Once I mastered the material, I was able to start really developing my teaching philosophy. This blog series is going to breakdown what that consists of and offer several sample lessons complete with instructions. I hope it will prove useful to anyone interested in learning the language of Grammar.

LANGUAGE-BASED GRAMMAR INSTRUCTION

I used to draw the majority of the material for my Grammar lessons from textbooks, my favorite being Shurley English. Now, I use the textbook more as a pacing guide to ensure I am teaching all the key concepts for my age group. It’s great for drills and quick reinforcement, which are absolutely essential for the learning process.

That said, I find a language-based Grammar class that focuses on sentence classification and diagramming most beneficial and rewarding for students. We work with well-written sentences to understand all sorts of concepts, from parts of speech to types of sentences and more. It not only shows the practical application of rules in a meaningful, interesting context, but it also draws on critical thinking skills in a highly logical fashion.

SENTENCE CLASSIFICATION

Sentence classification is a method of labeling all the words in a sentence according to their “jobs.” Let’s take a look at an example.

“I” is a subject pronoun, “love” is a verb, “the” is an article adjective, and “Renaissance” is a direct object. Don’t worry if that feels confusing at the moment. It will become clearer after the first lesson or so.

Notice that word “jobs” are not necessarily the same as parts of speech. For example, a noun is a part of speech, but its job in a sentence can be subject noun, object of the preposition, direct object, indirect object, and predicate noun. Likewise, “Renaissance” is a proper noun, which is here used as a direct object.

By figuring out the job a word plays, students gain a much deeper understanding of the English language than simply looking at parts of speech. Sure, every child should learn to tell the difference between nouns, pronouns, verbs, adjectives, adverbs, prepositions, conjunctions, and interjections. But it’s how those words are used together in a sentence that matters.

Word jobs look at those relationships in a formulaic way that tends to be easy to internalize. Better still, it can be scripted aloud with a question and answer flow that engages students and allows them to immediately self-correct.

Using the example above, I might say, “Who loves the Renaissance?” The class would respond, “I—subject pronoun.”

Next, I would ask, “What is being said about I?” The class would respond, “I love.”

“Love what?” I would continue. “Love the Renaissance,” the students would respond.

Finally, I would simply state, “The.” The class would say, “Article adjective.”

That’s pretty much it. As the teacher, I initially prompt the students for every sentence, but they soon learn how to do it themselves. The back and forth is extremely engaging in what might otherwise be somewhat boring and overwhelming. Instead, much like a math problem, students learn the “formula” for identifying word jobs. In the process, they gain a keen understanding of the internal logic of sentences.

To assist in this process, I frequently recite a set of memorization questions that drill students on the definitions of the various parts of speech and the types of jobs they can play. Here is a copy, which you may want to keep as a handy reference for the upcoming lessons.

SENTENCE DIAGRAMMING

Even if you never learned how to sentence diagram, you have probably seen them before. Diagrams are “drawings” that connect words according to their relationship to one another in a sentence. In contrast to classification, which is very auditory, diagramming is very visual.

Let’s take a look at the same sentence.

Each diagram line is “coded” with meaning. “I” and “love” and “Renaissance” are on the main horizontal line, thereby indicating they are the most important. The vertical line that separates “I” from “love” shows that everything in front of it is part of the complete subject and everything after it is part of the complete predicate. The other small vertical line shows that “Renaissance” is the direct object of “love.” “The” is on a diagonal line, showing that it modifies “Renaissance.”

Again, don’t worry if that sounds confusing. I will break it down more systematically in the coming lessons. For now, just consider it an example of what diagrams look like and how they communicate information.

“That looks hard!” parents often say when they visit during a Grammar class and see a row of students classifying and diagramming at the board while the rest do the same at their desks.

Well, it is, and it isn’t. With clear, well-paced instruction and plenty of interesting practice, students move through and master each lesson with relative ease.

What’s more, many tell me it’s fun. No, I’m not just talking about the high-flyers or kids trying to win brownie points. Nearly all of my students jump at the chance to classify and diagram at the board. They say it’s like putting together a puzzle. After they connect one of two pieces, they uncover the hidden “picture” or logic behind the individual parts.

As a teacher, there’s nothing like seeing a student complete a sentence classification and diagram. They begin with a quizzical look but that soon turns into one of focus and determination. By the end, their entire presence is one of triumph.

TABLE OF CONTENTS
  1. Pattern One: Subject Noun + Verb
  2. Pattern Two: Subject Noun + Verb-transitive + Direct Object
  3. Pattern Three: Subject Noun + Verb-transitive + Indirect Object + Direct Object
  4. Pattern Four: Subject Noun + Linking Verb + Predicate Noun
  5. Pattern Five: Subject Noun + Linking Verb + Predicate Adjective
  6. Pattern Six: Subject Noun + Verb-transitive + Direct Object + Objective Complement Noun
  7. Pattern Seven: Subject Noun + Verb-transitive + Direct Object + Object Complement Adjective
  8. Mixed Patterns: Infinitive
  9. Mixed Patterns: Participle
  10. Mixed Patterns: Gerund
  11. Mixed Patterns: Simple Sentences
  12. Mixed Patterns: Compound Sentence
  13. Mixed Patterns: Complex Sentence
  14. Mixed Patterns: Compound-Complex Sentence
  15. Authentic Sentences #1
  16. Authentic Sentences #2

I hope you enjoy these lessons! Feel free to share and reproduce them with attribution.

Essay Writing #5: The Personal Argument

I teach the personal argument last of the three essay formats I have laid out in this series, and it always throws my students off at first. So trained as they are to develop a thesis and follow a set structure and organization in their writing, they expect the personal argument to be the same.

But it isn’t. In fact, it shouldn’t even read like an essay when it’s done. It should read like a short story. Let’s take a look at the principles at play in a personal argument.

THE “PERSON” IN PERSONAL
Heidi Writing by Jessie Willcox Smith

Personal arguments are a basic requirement of a just about any academic application. Why do you want to attend such and such school? What is your crowning achievement so far in your life?

These are hard questions to answer, especially for young, self-conscious students. They often think that a personal essay is akin to a job interview, but it shouldn’t be. It should really be like the beginning of a lifelong friendship. Just as two people get to know one another by sharing stories and making new ones together, a personal argument should do the same thing: It should tell a story about oneself that answers the essay question. 

Rather than talk about being a hard-worker and commit to rigorous study sessions in the next school system, a good personal argument would tell a story about doing hard work. I remember the time I had to fill in last minute for the lead role in my class’s production of King Lear…

Now that’s an essay an admissions counselor would pay attention to. By the end of reading it, the counselor would feel like he actually knew the student and could picture the student making similar contributions in another school environment.

THE PLOT OF THE ESSAY

First and foremost, the plot must be drawn from real-life. It can be exaggerated, of course, but only to the extent that it still reveals the true nature of the student. Choosing stories is often the most difficult for my students and, thus, the most important piece to talk-through with others. It’s helpful to share the story aloud before writing it with a classmate or parent and see how it goes over.

What did you learn about me from this story? If the answer is different than what was intended, the student may need to repackage the story or try a different one.

Personal arguments need all the traditional plot elements: exposition, inciting incident, rising action, climax, falling action, and resolution. Moreover, they need to have literal and figurative components.

For example, a literal inciting incident might be that the teacher asked me to memorize all of so-and-so’s lines for tomorrow’s play. Figuratively, that inciting incident reveals a challenge for the student’s work ethic and ability. So everything that follows in the plot would match those two ideas together, hopefully culminating with a successful performance.

It’s tempting to spell out the figurative side in the resolution, but I tend to think it’s better not to since it can change the tone of the story. If well-written, the message should be read in-between the lines. 

A REMINDER ABOUT PROCESS

Fox With A Quill Pen by H. Plancquet

Like the simple argument and the classical argument, the writing process in the personal argument is as important as ever. Students should brainstorm their stories and outline each separate element of the plot before writing it.

And the first draft should not be their last. The best personal arguments get revised dramatically from start to finish.

Initial revisions should focus on the storyline to make sure that it works. Once that’s in place, then the student should play around with the narration and dialogue so it reads like a gripping story and not just a summary of something that happened once. A final revision would clean up grammar, polish syntax, and sharpen word choice.

The reader, often an admissions counselor, will no doubt learn a great deal about the student from his personal argument. Best of all, the student will get to know himself better, too.

Images courtesy of the New York Public Library

Essay Writing #4: The Classical Argument

The second essay format I teach my students is the classical argument. It is more advanced than the simple argument for a number of reasons.

To begin with, the thesis in a classical argument is debatable in a consequential way, meaning there is something at stake. That something might be political, social, religious, or any number of things that affect the broader world. Given this substantive nature, the argument often requires outside research as opposed to simply one’s own personal analysis. Finally, in order to lend authority to one’s position, the essay format spells out and refutes the opposing position.

In a middle school classroom like mine, I might use a simple argument for analysis of King Arthur but a classical argument for analysis of the justice of the Crusades. Given their complicated history and enduring legacy, a meaningful position on the Crusades requires research and attention to a vast array of conflicting viewpoints.

As I explain to my students, a classical argument is more than “I think this about such and such.” It’s also, “You should think this, too.” It’s clearly a persuasive argument because it tries to draw people to the writer’s viewpoint and dispel any doubt that other views could be correct.

The essay structure itself consists of five parts, which support a single thesis statement through deductive writing, meaning they begin with the thesis statement and then move on to support it.

PART ONE – THE INTRODUCTION AND THESIS STATEMENT

Happily, the introduction of a classical argument models the same format as that of a simple argument. It introduces the topic to be discussed and presents the thesis statement. I instruct students to limit themselves to approximately 3-5 sentences. The brevity of the opening paragraph is one of its strengths and should not be compromised by extraneous information.

The Writing Lesson by Morris Shulman

This paragraph consists of three parts. The first is the opening sentence itself. This should typically consist of a simple statement of fact, especially for students who are just learning to write an essay for the first time. More “provocative” openings like questions or startling facts are a lot harder to pull off, and I recommend new writers avoid them.

The second part of the opening paragraph offers transitional background information and justification for why the topic is relevant.

Well-done transitional sentences pave the way for the final part of the opening, which is the one-sentence thesis itself, or the position the essay takes. I always remind students that the thesis should be something debatable much like an opinion. In other words, it is not simply a fact.

PART TWO – THE NARRATION

This part of the essay establishes context for the argument. First, it tells the story, so to speak, behind the essay. That story might be the history of a war or the facts of a case or some other relevant background.

Next, it addresses the reality that there are opposing views about the subject matter. It should state what those views are without actually getting into the arguments for either position. That will come later.

Finally, the narration makes a type of appeal to the reader, letting him know what is at stake in the essay and asking him to weigh each side carefully.

There is no set number of sentences, but a good paragraph of 8-10 sentences usually does it for middle school students. More advanced writers might write several paragraphs in this part.

PART THREE – THE CONFIRMATION  

Much like the body of a simple argument, the confirmation presents the evidence to support the thesis. It should have a topic sentence, at least three pieces of thoroughly explained evidence, and a concluding sentence that clearly ties the confirmation back to the thesis.

Again, a good paragraph of 8-10 sentences is ideal for middle school students, but more advanced writers might have several paragraphs in this section as well. .  

PART FOUR – THE REFUTATION AND CONCESSION

With careful planning, this part of the essay is often the strongest because it allows the writer to dismiss all, or nearly all, of the opposition’s claims.

It should have a topic sentence followed by as many objections as the writer can come up with. If there are areas where the opposition may have a good point, the writer should concede that but without giving full weight to their overall position. Finally, this part of the essay should have a concluding sentence that relates back to the thesis.

The refutation and concession should mirror the confirmation in structure and length.

PART FIVE – THE CONCLUSION

Its purpose is to drive home the thesis statement by casting its relevance more broadly than what was initially presented in the introduction and narration.

A Lady Writing by Johannes Vermeer

Beginning writers often erroneously think of a conclusion as a restatement of what has already been said. Though this might work on a basic level, it represents only a superficial understanding of the key purpose of the conclusion and tends to be boring.

I find it helpful to refer to the conclusion as the “so what” part of the essay. We often think of it in terms of the broad lessons we learned from exploring an argument in a specific context. In other words, it is the student’s opportunity to reiterate what is at stake in the argument.

The conclusion should be divided into three parts, inversely mirroring the introduction. It, too, should be relatively short but powerful.

The first part of the conclusion recalls the thesis but presents it in a new way. I refer to this as a “thesis with a twist.” The second part provides transitional information on the connection between the thesis and the stakes at play in the argument. The final part is broader still, typically consisting of only one or two sentences, and should press the moral imperative of making the “right” choice for “the world.”

A REMINDER ABOUT PROCESS

If the writing process is important for the simple argument, it is all the more important for the classical argument, which is far more complicated.

From using Socratic discussions and disputations, to developing a thesis, to outlining the argument, to writing it out, every phase needs thorough, well-planned attention. Any breakdown in the writing process can greatly undermine the strength of the argument, and it shows all the more in this essay format.

Conversely, careful adherence to the process results in a persuasive argument even if the writing is wanting in style and beauty.

The classical argument, when followed properly, is as full-proof of a persuasive format as it gets. Naturally, there will be many readers who are not convinced in the end, but they will at least have to concede that the argument is convincing.  

First image courtesy of the New York Public Library, New York

Second image courtesy of the National Gallery of Art, Washington, D.C.

Essay Writing #3: The Simple Argument

The first essay I format I teach my students is the simple argument. If they can get this format down in middle school, they will soar through high school and even college writing assignments because it is so foundational.

The essay structure itself consists of three parts, which support a single thesis statement through deductive writing, meaning it begins with the thesis statement and then moves on to support it.

PART ONE – THE INTRODUCTION AND THESIS STATEMENT

The opening paragraph of the essay introduces the topic to be discussed and presents the thesis statement. I instruct students to limit themselves to approximately 3-5 sentences. The brevity of the opening paragraph is one of its strengths and should not be compromised by extraneous information.

This paragraph consists of three parts. The first is the opening sentence itself. This should typically consist of a simple statement of fact, especially for students who are just learning to write an essay for the first time. More “provocative” openings like questions or startling facts are a lot harder to pull off, and I recommend new writers avoid them.

The second part of the opening paragraph offers transitional background information and justification for why the topic is relevant.

Well-done transitional sentences pave the way for the final part of the opening, which is the one-sentence thesis itself, or the position the essay takes. I always remind students that the thesis should be something debatable much like an opinion. In other words, it is not simply a fact.

PART TWO – THE BODY

The body provides three pieces of evidence to support the thesis statement. I teach my students to use only one paragraph for the body. It, too, is divided into three parts.

The first part is the topic sentence, which introduces the evidence. The second part of the body paragraph presents three pieces of evidence and so is the longest. Though there is no set number of sentences for students to follow, I tell them that good evidence needs to be clear enough for an outside reader to get the picture. The third part of the body paragraph is simply a concluding sentence or two that ties the evidence together.

As students mature in their writing, they will likely expand the body of their essay from one to three paragraphs. Each piece of evidence would then stand alone as a full, well-developed paragraph.

PART THREE – THE CONCLUSION

The concluding paragraph is often the hardest for students to write. Its purpose is to drive home the thesis statement by casting its relevance more broadly than what was initially presented in the introduction.

Beginning writers often erroneously think of a conclusion as a restatement of what has already been said. Though this might work on a basic level, it represents only a superficial understanding of the key purpose of the conclusion and tends to be boring.

Doorway by Robert W.R. Taylor

I find it helpful to refer to the conclusion as the “so what” part of the essay. We often think of it in terms of the broad lessons we learned in class. I tell the students that the conclusion is their chance to explain why what they have to say matters to the world of ideas.

In a sense, it “closes” the argument yet “opens” a new, related idea at the same time.

The conclusion should be divided into three parts, inversely mirroring the introduction. It, too, should be relatively short but powerful.

The first part of the conclusion recalls the thesis but presents it in a new way. I refer to this as a “thesis with a twist.” The second part provides transitional information on the connection between the thesis and the world more generally. The final part is broader still, typically consisting of only one or two sentences, and should fully open the door to a new idea about the thesis.

A “SIMPLE” MISNOMER

For new writers, there is nothing “simple” about this essay format. It frequently takes many attempts to write a good one.

Some classical educators require students to continually rewrite an essay until it is “perfect,” but I do not. I think it is far better to give a fresh opportunity to work with a new thesis. With practice, students learn how to logically, persuasively, and even beautifully express their argument.

Once they do, they are ready to learn the classical argument, which I discuss in the next post.

Image courtesy of The National Gallery of Art, Washington, D.C.

Essay Writing #2: The Process

I’m sorry to say the word “essay” conjures fear in the hearts of my students. I was no different in school. While I enjoyed reading and discussing ideas, I found whatever excuse I could to put off writing them out in an essay.

It was hard. It was time consuming. And I was never satisfied with how my essays turned out.

Looking back, I realize that lack of satisfaction was a good thing because it (gradually) taught me the importance of revision. Still, revision took even longer and was just as daunting.

The Writing Desk
by Childe Hassam

Now as a teacher, I feel the most important part of instructing students to write essays is instilling a respect for the process it involves. Yes, they need to use good grammar, strong evidence, and logical construction to make a sound argument. And, of course, I teach that as I go, but my bigger objective is to slow things down so they can constantly reassess the beauty and persuasiveness of their writing.

The world of classical education has its own special language for discussing the writing process, but it’s really no different than what one might find in a conventional writing “program.” (Remember, the difference is often found in the idea, not the process.)

PHASE ONE – THE THESIS

The first phase of the writing process is all about defining a thesis, or a main position. In classical terms, this is called invention. In more conventional terms, it is called pre-writing or brainstorming. Again, it’s really just a difference in word choice because it all means the same thing.

Activities like Socratic discussions and disputations are part of this phase because they help students develop their ideas and grow passionate about them long before they put pen to paper. For a breakdown of what this might look like, check out my previous post on debating King Arthur

PHASE TWO – THE OUTLINE

The second phase of the writing process involves gathering evidence to support the thesis and compiling that evidence into a well-ordered, logical outline. The fancy classical word for it is arrangement, but I just as soon call it organization like many other writers do.

The outline is essential, and I generally model what this looks like on the board. To me, a good one is short with just headers and sub-headers, no supporting details. The reason for this is because I want students to figure out right away if they have enough evidence to support their thesis.

If, for example, they need three pieces of evidence to make a strong argument, they should be able to tick those off quickly in an outline. If they can’t, then they need to revisit their thesis and find one they can support.

PHASE THREE – THE WRITING

Having completed their outlines and affirmed the strength of their theses, students are ready to write their essays. Classical educators call this the style phase of the writing process. I like that terms myself because it conjures the imagination and reminds students that their writing should be beautiful and persuasive. More conventional programs might simply call it drafting or writing or even re-writing. Again, the idea is really the same even if the wording is different.

I try to have my students begin their writing in the classroom so I can provide guidance at the outset. By doing so, we fold re-writing into this phase as well. Of course students can and should revise more on their own, but many are unable to do so without another person’s critique.

For that reason, I welcome parent input for my middle schoolers. Some students at first think that’s cheating but not in my book. It’s part of the writing process to get the opinion of others. Even the best writers have editors, and those writers learn a great deal from being reviewed and edited. Likewise, I want my students to turn in the best possible version of their argument.

I’ll discuss what those arguments might look like in subsequent posts.

Image courtesy of the National Gallery of Art, Washington, DC

Essay Writing #1: The Idea

A good essay starts with a good idea. It’s really that simple. Thus, much of my “writing instruction” doesn’t even involve writing. Instead, it consists of Socratic discussions and disputations based on the great books in our Literature studies or the rich content of our History lessons.

And that’s the special something that makes essays in a classical classroom turn out so nicely. They are not one-off assignments or formulaic gobbley gook from a pre-packaged writing program.

Certainly students can write wonderful essays drawn from fairly typical prompts like, “Who is your favorite athlete?” In my first few years of teaching, I sampled some of those prompts, and the essays were okay at best. They generally read like the students didn’t care all that much about what they were saying, almost like they felt the prompts were beneath them. Frankly, they were.

Students are capable of much deeper thinking beyond what Derek Jeter or even Babe Ruth can elicit. They need a chance to engage the “big questions” and to develop and write out their own opinions on ideas related to life and death, love and romance, wisdom and foolishness, to name a few.

At least in my classroom, essays drawn from King Arthur or The Marriage Set have students on the edge of their seats. Likewise, an essay to evaluate the justice of the Crusades in the Middle Ages sparks an impassioned response. And the reason students engage those essays with such passion is because they had ample time to develop and defend their ideas during a unit. They already have skin in the game, so to speak.

What’s more, students enjoy defining their own essay topics because they have so many ideas to work with. I think John Steinbeck was right when he said,

Rabbits by Henri-Charles Guérard

Ideas are like rabbits. You get a couple and learn how to handle them, and pretty soon you have a dozen.”

In a classical classroom, students get to “pet” dozens and dozens of “bunnies” before they raise one into an essay. All that experience builds confidence in students and helps the chosen “bunnies” thrive.

For example, when we read Personal Recollections of Joan of Arc, we spend a lot of time dealing with the concept of “construction of memoir.” From those discussions, one student might write an essay on whether or not Mark Twain was “telling the truth” about Joan’s life. Another might write about the type of military leader Joan was and another about how she handled herself during her trial and condemnation. Each of those essays reflects discussions we had in class, albeit with additional ideas unique to individual students.

While my approach to writing instruction is fluid enough to draw from almost anything we discuss, it is also deliberate in its planning and implementation. My goal is for all of my students to learn the writing process and be able to apply it to three essay formats: the simple essay, the classical essay, and the personal essay. I will breakdown what this entails in subsequent posts. 

Image courtesy of The National Gallery of Art, Washington D.C.

Fairy Tales #12: A Classical Study

There is something about reading fairy tales that is quintessentially classical. After all, classical education considers the great stories of Western culture one of its core foundations. So if at the end of a school day I have read a fairy tale with my students, I am usually pleased. But, if that’s where it ends, I am all the more disappointed.

Rich as they are for the moral imagination, I try to draw as much from them as possible. Here is a breakdown of some of my favorite extension activities to do with students.

DISCOURSE
Socratic Discussion

A classical mainstay, Socratic discussion is at the heart of my approach to studying fairy tales. We discuss the stories in small groups and as a whole class, often rearranging the desks and chairs so we form one large circle or several smaller ones. This discursive format helps students break down the plot and unpack its core symbols.

I guide the discussions but play a limited role in order to encourage active engagement from the students. Plus, it lets them tease out the ideas that they find most interesting. In this way, students feel a greater sense of ownership in the discussions and make more personal contributions.

Disputation

This is a really fun one that serves as a natural outgrowth of Socratic discussion. Disputation involves debating key aspects of the story, typically those that pose moral dilemmas. For example, in reading Cat and Mouse in Partnership, we might debate whether the mouse should have formed a partnership with the cat. Or when reading Cinderella, we might debate whether or not it is a good story for little kids.

Sometimes our debates are very formal with preparation and regulated rounds. Other times, they are of a more impromptu style. Either way, the students get very animated and impassioned.

CREATIVE WRITING
Plot Reinvention

Another exercise I really like is plot reinvention. First, students have to thoroughly understand the original plot of the story, meaning they can express the inciting incident, climax, and resolution for themselves much as I have done in this blog series. Once they can do this, they choose an element to change.

If, for example, the father in Godfather Death were to choose God, then the whole story would change. The student’s job would be to tell that new story. One of the great things about this exercise is that it gives students a concrete place to start writing, which can be very difficult with more open-ended prompts.  

Character Reinvention

Character reinvention follows this same principle. What if Little Red Cap were a naughty girl? Or what if the fisherman had a tougher upper lip? Or how about making the youngest sister in Twelve Brothers a real chatter-box?

When students develop a whole new approach to a character, it affects all of his or her motives and actions and can lead to a different, not to mention highly entertaining, story altogether.

Working from Art

I also like projecting beautiful paintings or sketches from fairy tales and having students write just one scene based on the picture. This approach is a little more contained than the previous two, so it makes it easier for students to develop sharp, properly formatted dialogue and well-planned narration. As such, it readily doubles as a grammar lesson as well as a creative writing exercise.


Cinderella by John Everett Millais

In preparation for writing a scene for Cinderella, I might depict the painting above by John Everett Millais and prompt students with the following: Describe the moment in time depicted here. What are the character’s thoughts? Words? Actions? Draw your ideas together as a scene from the story. Be sure to include dialogue and narration.

ARTISTIC RENDERING
Reflective Journaling

There are a number of mediums one could use for reflective journaling, but one I really like is water color. This entails students painting something they found inspiring in a fairy tale.

After reading The Little Match Seller, one might paint a wood stove, another a Christmas tree, or even the little girl flying up to Heaven. Once students have painted their pictures, they reflect in writing on what they have depicted and why. When that’s done, they walk around and view everyone else’s journals in what we call a “museum walk.”

All the while, we play classical music and otherwise maintain silence. It makes for a very relaxing, thoughtful environment, not to mention beautiful work. 

Story Board

This one is borrowed from the publishing industry wherein editors lay out words on a story board and then contract illustrators to matches them with pictures. I have students do the same thing with a fairy tale.

Their story boards can be very elaborate or more of a quick sketch, true to the story or reinvented using one of the models above. Either way, students fine-tune their understanding of the plot and have the opportunity to do so in an artistic, visual way.

Act Them Out

Most of my students like acting out the fairy tales best of all. I give them liberty to keep or change whatever they want in the plots. For that matter, they can even combine plots as long as it makes sense. Their job is to write the script, memorize it, and present it in a formal production. Ideally, we invite other classes in the school to come and watch.

CONCLUSION

These types of exercises cause students to think deeply about the fairy tales. This is extremely valuable from an educational standpoint, not least because it helps students to really understand the stories and develop their own insights.

It is perhaps even more valuable from a moral standpoint because the lessons can serve as a guide for life’s real-world difficulties. When, for example, they are discerning the nature of a friendship, they can draw from Cat and Mouse in Partnership. They can look to The Mermaid or The Snow Queen when trying to understand the true meaning of love. Perhaps they will think about The Emperor’s New Clothes when they eventually come to critique politics. Or maybe, they will take heart from The Little Match Seller in the face of personal suffering, which no doubts awaits everyone at some point or another.

Whatever the case may be, by extending the fairy tales with additional exercises, students come to embody them in a way that will enrich their lives forever. At least that’s my hope.

Image in the public domain

Fairy Tales #11: The Emperor’s New Clothes

The Emperor’s New Clothes by Hans Christian Andersen continues to fascinate modern day children. Of course everybody loves the famous underwear scene, but that’s not the only reason it has endured. It also touches on an array of virtues and vices like wisdom versus foolishness and humility versus pride in highly palpable ways. What’s more, it offers lessons for the everyday person and the statesman alike.

In order to unpack those ideas, let’s first examine the plot.  

PLOT SUMMARY
Exposition – The Background

There lives an emperor who is particularly fond of his appearance and spares no expense to dress in the finest attire. So obsessed is he, that he spends virtually all of his time consumed with his looks instead of the affairs of state.

Inciting Incident – The Problem

Knowing the emperor’s disposition, two swindlers seek to deceive the king and thereby make a profit. They pretend to be fine tailors and offer to sew him an outfit of such unmatched quality that none but the wisest can see it.

Rising Action – The Build-up

Greedy for such finery, the emperor commissions the tailors and follows their progress most eagerly. However, fearing his own foolishness would be revealed if he could not see the clothes, he sends in several of his advisors one after another to look at the clothes on his behalf.

As the tailors are not actually sewing anything but simply pretending to cut fabric and sew seams, none can see anything. Yet, all pretend to see a fine outfit for fear of being thought foolish. As the days progress and the pretend outfit nears completion, the emperor plans a royal procession throughout the streets of his kingdom to show off his new clothes. 

Climax – The Point of No Return

Finally, the emperor steps into his dressing chamber to try on his new outfit. Of course he can not see the clothes because they do not exist, but he pretends to get dressed in them just the same. There is no way he is going to admit that he does not see them because he, too, does not want to be thought a fool.

Falling Action – The Unraveling

And so the king processes through the streets with a grand entourage wearing only his underwear but believing himself royally clad.

Anti-resolution – The Truth is Out

All but a small child pretend to see the outfit. The child, not concerned with the thoughts of others, blurts out the obvious truth that the emperor is wearing nothing but underwear. The rest of the crowd soon also acknowledges this to be true.

Even the king realizes he has been made a fool of, but he continues on his procession, unwilling to acknowledge his shame.

PLOT ANALYSIS
Clothed in Falsehood

There are a number of figurative interpretations at play in this timeless story. Perhaps the first and most obvious has to do with vanity. After all, the king is obsessed with his looks, and that is what leads him down a foolish path.

When we dig just a little deeper, it becomes clear that his vanity relates not only to his looks but also to his power. He is obsessed with “being king” yet cares nothing for the real duties this entails. Instead, he spends his days playing dress-up, so to speak, and pretending to be in charge of the kingdom.

What’s worse, he knows he is a fool and is worried sick that anyone should find out. That is why he refuses to look at the outfit himself. He knows from the beginning that he is not wise enough to see it. And when he finally looks into the dressing room, his doubts about himself are confirmed. He cannot see the outfit.

Helen Stratton, The fairy tales of Hans Christian Andersen, page 45 illustration

Ironically, what he really cannot see is that he has been tricked. When he parades through town in his underwear, he believes himself regally clad. Just as the truth of his nakedness is revealed, so too is the truth of his power. He has none. All his wisdom and authority are empty, so much so that even a small child knows it.

It does not take an act of war or even well-planned subterfuge to bring about his downfall. It takes only two swindlers. He truly was not fit to be king.

Historical Lessons

This story, though about a king, was not written for a king. It was written for the people.

We know that because the narrator lets us readers in on the trick the swindlers are playing. From the beginning, we know they are not really sewing a fine outfit, and we anxiously look forward to seeing how the king will deal with them. We may hope he does not fall for their trick, but we thoroughly enjoy that he does.

Hans Christian Andersen, writing in the 1800s, knew that most of his readers would feel a level of disdain for kings whose right to rule was far more arbitrary than we could ever claim today. A king was either born into power or took it by force. Meanwhile, the people plain-old had to fall in line.

Many a real king leisurely sat in his palace “admiring his power” while the people toiled away paying taxes, ready to suit up for war on command. For them, the emperor’s new clothes were nothing but a well-worn reality. 

CONCLUSION

Such is often the case today as well. Be it the politics of state or family, church or school, fame or fashion, one needs ever to be on the lookout for falsehood.

And therein is the lesson I like best about The Emperor’s New Clothes. It teaches children to look critically at the world around them. In a sense, it shows them that they have power far greater than that of a king for theirs is the power of critical thinking. With it, they can judge the world around them and rule their own lives with wisdom and virtue.

Image in the public domain

Fairy Tales #10: The Little Match Seller

The Little Match Seller is another bitter-sweet fairy tale by Hans Christian Andersen. In fact, the ending is so hard that I have heard some challenge the wisdom of sharing it with children. To each his own, of course, but I think it is a very good story for older children like those I teach in middle school.

Let’s look at the plot and then consider its merits.

PLOT SUMMARY
Exposition – The Background

While others are making merry and staying warm inside on New Year’s Eve, a poor little girl must walk barefoot through the freezing cold streets and try to sell matches in order to bring the earnings home to her father. He is a terrible man who will certainly beat her if she cannot make any money.

Inciting Incident – The Problem

And she doesn’t. The whole day long she fails to sell even a single match. All the while her feet have turned blue from the cold, making her unable to continue on.

Rising Action – The Build-up

Yet, rather than cry, she embraces her fate with a heart full of hope. She strikes one of her matches in a vain attempt to warm herself. There in the light she sees a vision of a nice warm stove. Just as she reaches out her fingers to touch it, the match goes out, and the vision disappears.

The Little Match Girl by Anne Anderson

Eager to bring it back, the little girl lights another match. This time she sees a beautiful dinner table set with a scrumptious goose. It looks so good that it dances right off the table toward her but then disappears when the match goes out.

She quickly lights a third match and beholds a glorious Christmas tree bedazzled with lights from top to bottom. It, too, disappears when the match goes out.

Climax – The Breaking Point

Just then, the little girl sees a falling star and thinks someone is dying, little realizing it is herself.  

Falling Action – The Unraveling

In a final act of hope, the little girl lights a fourth match and sees a vision of her dear departed grandmother, who was the only one who ever loved her.

“O take me with you,” the girl cries. “I know you will go away when the match burns out; you will vanish like the warm stove, the roast goose, and the large, glorious Christmas tree.”

Resolution – Happily Ever After

She hopes not in vain. Her grandmother, who truly is a spirit sent from God, escorts her to Heaven where she will enjoy all the things she envisioned and more.

On New Year’s Day, people gather around the little girl’s dead body and lament her passing, never imagining all the wonderful visions she saw before she died.

PLOT ANALYSIS

In order to understand the lessons in this story, we have to begin with the ending. Like the onlookers in the story, readers are naturally compelled to focus on the sad death of the little match seller, not to mention the terrible realities of her life.

She was a victim of poverty and abuse and left utterly alone in the world when her grandmother died. No doubt the onlookers could discern a great deal of this from her ragged clothes and bare feet. Perhaps she even bore the wounds of abuse on her frail body. Surely, she was a forsaken child if there ever was one.

And yet she was somehow full of hope. There was no reason she should expect a wood stove or a dancing goose and certainly not a frivolous Christmas tree. Yet, she dreamed of them nonetheless and most assuredly knew she would get them someday in Heaven. Her life, though we might call it tragic, is nothing short of a miracle in that she overcomes her difficulties with such grace.

MOTIFS

Hans Christian Andersen conveys this message through the interplay of three sets of oppositional motifs.  

Light versus Darkness

His little match seller lives a life in the dark, meaning she has virtually nothing. Yet, she has something better than material goods. She has a light within herself that she brings to the world. To her father and all the onlookers, she is a nothing but a poor match seller. But in truth, she is a light giver.

The final matches she strikes are not bought and paid for. They are freely struck just as her goodness is freely shared with any who would care to bask in it. As each match burns down, the light of her mortal world gives way to the eternal light of Heaven until she is consumed by it.

Warmth versus Coldness

So, too, does coldness permeate every aspect of her life. Whether at home or on the streets, the wind is always whipping at her face. She cannot escape it. Yet, she literally and figuratively brings warmth with her wherever she goes. Each of her tiny little matches can strike a roaring fire. Likewise, every hardship she accepts with grace kindles warmth in the world.

When none are left to enjoy that warmth, both that from the matches and that from her goodness, God calls her home to the eternal warmth and sunshine of Heaven.

Life versus Death

Ironically, the little girl’s life on earth is more akin to death, whereas her death is the beginning of her true life. While this accords with basic Christian beliefs, it can lead to a misreading of the story.

It is not uncommon to confuse the truth that we are made for eternal life with the falsehood that some people are better off dead. Just because the little match seller’s life was so difficult does not mean that it was somehow not worth living. It most assuredly was, and she gave glory to God by accepting her hardships with such grace. And by doing so, she gained eternal life.

If she had given up, well, we can guess her death would have turned out differently.

CONCLUSION

The Little Match Seller is not for the faint of heart. It poses many serious questions about the realities of life on earth and life everlasting. If the story makes us cry, so much the better. That means it has kindled something in us.

It seems Hans Christian Andersen was trying to strike his own match and shed light on the beauty waiting to be found in suffering. Maybe that message is too heavy for a small child, but maybe a small child is just innocent enough to bask in its rays. I tend to think it is the adults who cringe.

Image in the public domain

Fairy Tales #9: Cat and Mouse in Partnership

Cats and mice are natural born enemies, so what happens when they form a partnership in a fairy tale by the Brothers Grimm? The mouse gets eaten, of course!

While our modern sentiments want to defy stereotypes and recast the villain as a hero or a misunderstood outcast, that was not so in the Middle Ages when Cat and Mouse in Partnership was first told. Things were a little more black and white back then, at least in the world of their fairy tales where lessons needed to be crystal clear.

Cat and Mouse by Christian Rohlfs

If it looks like a cat and purrs like a cat, so to speak, then it’s a cat all right. And if you’re a mouse, then you’d better stay away. But the little mouse in our story doesn’t. Let’s take a look at the plot and figure out why.

PLOT SUMMARY
Exposition – The Background

A cat meets a mouse.

Inciting Incident – The Problem

And the cat says all manner of nice things to the mouse in order to win her friendship.

Rising Action – The Build-up

The unlikely pair then buys a pot of fat together and stores it in the church for safekeeping until winter. Meanwhile, they move in together, but the cat secretly covets the pot of fat and contrives to have it all to himself.

Three times he lies to the mouse and says that he must go to the church to stand as godfather for a newborn kitten.

The first time, he licks off the top layer of fat. When he comes home, the mouse inquires about the baptism and asks the kitten’s name. The cat says the kitten was christened “Top-Off.” Though an unusual name, the mouse does not give it much thought.

The second time, the cat eats down to the middle of the pot. Again, he gives the make-believe kitten a fake name, calling him “Half-Gone.” The name worries the mouse, but she does not press the matter.

Climax – The Breaking Point

The third time, the cat devours the rest of the pot and says the kitten was christened “All-Gone.” The mouse grows even more worried but still does not realize the cat is lying.

Falling Action – The Unraveling

When winter comes and food grows scarce, the mouse goes to the church with the cat and discovers the pot of fat empty.

Anti-resolution – Not So Happily Ever After

Before she can finish accusing the cat, he eats her up, and so ends their partnership!

PLOT ANALYSIS

The mouse should have known better than to trust a cat. So why did she? Was she worried about being prejudicial? Did she just want to give him a chance?

Of course not! Those explanations are too modern to apply, not to mention they are not supported by the text, which says very plainly that the cat tricked the mouse through flattery. The mouse should have trusted her instincts, not her vanity. As a result, she misplaced her trust altogether.

Cat and Mouse in Partnership by Walter Crane

The mouse was happy to keep the company of the cat because he boosted her ego. Yet, the cat was biding his time to eat her all the while. As such, neither was really friend to the other. Theirs was a partnership of convenience and met a certain death when that convenience, the pot of fat, ran out.

Neither the cat nor the mouse emerges a likable character. One is a foolish victim, and the other is a cunning predator.

CONCLUSION

Naturally, many middle school students like the ones I teach can readily relate to both characters. What seems to be a true friendship in sixth grade turns out to be merely a partnership of convenience in seventh. If left unchecked, it meets an unhappy ending by eighth.

That sounds rather daunting! But fear not, the Brothers Grimm have sound advice to offer. Simply put, trust your instincts. It’s good to give people a chance, but don’t be fooled by flattery or popularity or something else superficial. You can usually see through the façade if you can get over your ego.

And finally, just as we need to safeguard ourselves from cats, we also need to make sure we don’t turn into a cat.

First image courtesy of the National Gallery of Art, Washington D.C.; Second image in the public domain