Lecture transcript on “How to Play with Picture Books” (Part 1)

   Lec­ture: How to Play with Pic­ture Books? (Part 1)
    Speak­er: A‑League
   
Time: Octo­ber 12, 2008, 9:30 AM — 12:00 PM
   
Loca­tion: Shen­zhen Sil­ver Eagle Sec­ond Kinder­garten
    Link:Graph­ic ver­sion   
Pho­to ver­sion
   
Thank you all! The Argen­tine Primera División is final­ly here. A few days ago, I dis­cussed some ques­tions with some moth­ers online. I was very ner­vous to come here. Direc­tor Yang said that the moth­ers here are very knowl­edge­able. I’m just an ordi­nary father, so I was very ner­vous to come here. So I checked it out online before­hand and dis­cussed it with every­one. Dur­ing the dis­cus­sion, some moth­ers were more or less skep­ti­cal. Is this the Argen­tine Primera División? Is it real? I had to come here to ver­i­fy it, and it’s the real deal.
   
Yes­ter­day I went from Bei­jing to Guangzhou, and today I arrived in Shen­zhen. I am very hap­py to have this oppor­tu­ni­ty to share with you. My top­ic today is “How to play with pic­ture books?” “Play” may not sound so dif­fi­cult. Of course, there are high and low ways to play. We can try it today. If it is not high enough, we can raise it a bit.
   
Today I will share three top­ics:
   
The first top­ic is: What is the con­nec­tion between pic­ture books and chil­dren’s read­ing? Why do chil­dren’s read­ing pro­mot­ers always bring them up? We did­n’t read these things as chil­dren, but we were fine, weren’t we? Why is it being dis­cussed so heav­i­ly today?
   
The sec­ond top­ic was also spe­cial­ly pre­pared for today’s lec­ture — the ten secrets of play­ing with pic­ture books. Because it is still being refined, it can only be the V1.0 Beta ver­sion, just a tri­al ver­sion. I don’t know every­one’s basic sit­u­a­tion very well. If you think there are some points in the lec­ture that need in-depth dis­cus­sion, or if there are some unclear points, you can inter­rupt at any time and bring it up for us to dis­cuss togeth­er. In fact, it is not impor­tant whether a lec­ture fin­ish­es the con­tent or not. What is impor­tant is whether every­one can com­mu­ni­cate and gain some­thing.
   
Third, we spent a lot of time talk­ing about how to play pic­ture books. Why do we play like this?
   
Although every­one knows me to some extent, to be hon­est, some­times even I don’t know myself very well, so I have to intro­duce myself. There are many ver­sions of self-intro­duc­tion. I have pre­pared three ver­sions, and today I will tell you two ver­sions. The first one is an alle­gor­i­cal ver­sion. Who is Ajia? Who can tell? I don’t know either. I went to my daugh­ter’s sec­ond grade class:
   
“Who are you? Intro­duce your­self.”
   
“My name is Li Ziheng.”
   
“Who is Li Ziheng?”
   
It’s hard to say. “Li Ziheng is a stu­dent in a cer­tain class, study­ing in Bei­jing… He’s from Earth, from the Milky Way.”
   
“Then what are we going to do on Earth?”
   
He said, “My moth­er gave birth to me, and I can’t do any­thing about it.”
   
“Now that you’re out, you have to find some­thing to do.”
   
Play­ing, study­ing, etc.—what are we all doing? What are we born for, after all this time? I thought my ques­tions were sil­ly, but then I dis­cov­ered there was some­one just as sil­ly as me (Dali B the rab­bit). He’s young and strong, except I don’t have his big ears. So, I’d say he’s an “old rab­bit.” He’s con­fused, just like me, con­stant­ly won­der­ing, “This is a pic­ture book. How could it be a shame not to read the cov­er?” First, let’s share some com­mon sense: you must read from front to back. This cov­er is real­ly inter­est­ing, and there’s even a dust jack­et.
   
This is often over­looked. We usu­al­ly call it the end­pa­pers, or the but­ter­fly pages. The sto­ry often begins here, with a sil­ly rab­bit liv­ing in such a sit­u­a­tion. “I Don’t Know Who I Am” is usu­al­ly called the title page. When read­ing with chil­dren, we often include it—text by (UK) Jon Black, illus­tra­tions by (Ger­many) Axel Schef­fler. Why read this? Actu­al­ly, it’s quite use­ful. If you’re famil­iar with pic­ture books, you’ll know that Axel Schef­fler (Ger­many) has illus­trat­ed oth­er books you might be famil­iar with, such as “The Gruffa­lo,” “The Gruffa­lo and Lit­tle Girl,” and “The Lit­tle House Becomes the Big House.” This is the first episode of “Smart Beans.” For those who pre­fer nov­els, there’s a book called “Run­ning Pig Lulu,” also illus­trat­ed by him.
   
“I Don’t Know Who I Am”—This image is very strange. Have you ever seen a rab­bit like this? It’s sit­ting on a tree, just like me stand­ing on the podi­um now. It’s very awk­ward.
   
Dali B does­n’t know who he is
   
“Am I a mon­key?” he said.
   
“Am I a koala?”
   
“Am I a por­cu­pine?”
   
I often ask myself, who am I? A father? An expert? Actu­al­ly, the word “expert” is a bit insult­ing, because besides read­ing to chil­dren, I can also do gro­ceries and cook. It’s not like I only know one thing, so who am I? Ulti­mate­ly, we’ve set­tled on “pro­mot­er of chil­dren’s read­ing.” What exact­ly is a pro­mot­er of chil­dren’s read­ing? Nei­ther the Per­son­nel Bureau nor the Labor Bureau can find what that job is, so I’m very con­fused.
   
Dali B did­n’t know where he should live.
   
Should I live in a cave?” he said.
   
“Should I live in a bird’s nest?”
   
“Should I live in a spi­der’s web?”
   
(Only in pic­ture books do you see it liv­ing in dif­fer­ent places. I also ask myself: Should I live in the coun­try­side? Should I live in a vil­la? Should I live in a lux­u­ri­ous build­ing or an ordi­nary bun­ga­low? Or should I live in a tent in the dis­as­ter area? In fact, I am some­times con­fused. Recent­ly, we made a spe­cial trip to the Sichuan dis­as­ter area. I heard that the sit­u­a­tion there is now even worse. Are we real­ly as cer­tain as we see it?)
   
Dali B does­n’t know what he should eat.
   
“Should I eat fish?” he said.
   
“Should I eat pota­toes?”
   
“Should I eat bugs?”
   
(Should I eat milk pow­der? Should I drink cow’s milk? Should I drink domes­tic milk? I often ask myself, “Would I dare to eat pigs?” Now we find that almost every­thing is in an ined­i­ble state. Things that seem to be very cer­tain sud­den­ly become uncer­tain. Life is some­times just like this. But Dali B looks so stu­pid, and I look just as stu­pid as him.)
   
Dali B did­n’t know why his feet were so big.
   
“Is it for water ski­ing?” he said.
   
“Is it for mice to sit on?”
   
“Is it for pro­tec­tion from the rain?”
   
Dali B saw birds liv­ing in trees and decid­ed that he too want­ed to live in a tree.
   
Dali B saw a squir­rel eat­ing an acorn and decid­ed to eat an acorn him­self. (We are some­times like this too. When we see oth­ers going abroad, we want to go abroad too.)
   
Dali B still does­n’t know why his feet are so big.
   
One day, the rab­bits in the woods were in a pan­ic and ran under Dali B’s tree.
   
“You have to get down here, Daly B!” they yelled.
   
“Jessie D is here!”
   
“Who is Jessie D?” Daly B asked. (How could it pos­si­bly know who Jessie D was if it did­n’t even know who Daly B was?)
   
The rab­bits were too anx­ious to answer.
   
They spread out across the grass,
    Dis­ap­peared into the hole.
   
Jessie D looked up and Daly B waved.
   
Jessie D start­ed climb­ing the tree.
   
The oth­er rab­bits stuck out their noses.
    Trem­bling all over.
   
“Hel­lo.” Daly B said to Jessie D.
   
“Are you a bad­ger?”
   
“Are you an ele­phant?”
   
“Are you a platy­pus?”
   
Jessie D crept clos­er. “No, my friend,” she whis­pered, “I am a weasel!”
   
“Do you live in a pond?” Daly B asked.
   
“Do you live on the dam?”
   
“Do you live in a dog­house?”
   
Jessie D crawled clos­er.
   
“No, my friend,” she hissed.
   
“I live in the dark­est cor­ner of the woods.”
   
“Do you eat cab­bage?” Daly B asked.
   
“Do you eat insects?”
    “Do you eat fruit?”
   
Jessie D crawled over to Daly B.
   
“No, my friend,” she said in a harsh voice,
   
“I eat rab­bits! Rab­bits like you!”
   
Dali B was very sur­prised.
   
“I am…a rab­bit?” (Dali B, near­ing the end of his life, was still explor­ing this ques­tion of his true self. Socrates said, “Know thy­self,” and he final­ly under­stood it, stam­mer­ing. They were dis­cussing philo­soph­i­cal ques­tions very friend­ly, but Jessie D did­n’t give him the time.)
   
Jessie D nodded…licked her lips…and then jumped!
   
Dali B did­n’t even think about it, he turned around like light­ning,
   
He kicked hard with his super big foot.
   
Jessie D flew across the sky, far, far away,
   
Fly to where you came from!
   
The oth­er rab­bits jumped and cheered
    And hugged each oth­er,
   
“You’re a hero, Daly B!” they shout­ed.
   
“That’s strange,” Dali B said.
   
“I thought I was a rab­bit.” (I still don’t under­stand who I am. I knew it a while ago, but now I don’t know it any­more.)
   
This is a fable, and some­times fables are more real than our real­i­ty.
   
I’d like to share a real sto­ry with you here—I come from Red Mud Vil­lage, a vil­lage found­ed in 2000. It’s prac­ti­cal­ly nowhere on Earth, but it’s a place you can find online. There’s a man­i­festo on a piece of red mud, dat­ing back to the ear­ly 2000s: “Mud that can’t be played with by chil­dren is not good mud!” When peo­ple ask me what it is, I always say it’s mud. Books are also mud. It’s a spir­i­tu­al prod­uct for chil­dren to play with. Mud is dif­fer­ent from oth­er toys. Most prod­ucts these days require elec­tric­i­ty, or at least bat­ter­ies, but this one does­n’t even have a spring. Mud does­n’t need that, and you don’t even need to spend mon­ey. Just pick it up and, if you’re an artist, you can shape it into a work of art. It depends on who you are, not what it is.

   
Mud that’s only for chil­dren isn’t good mud! — I remem­ber some­one asked me, “Does a book just because chil­dren like it mean it’s good?” Not nec­es­sar­i­ly, but if chil­dren like it, it at least means it’s suit­able for chil­dren. And real­ly good mud can be played with by adults too. When I say, “Let’s play with mud,” it does­n’t mean it’s just for chil­dren; we adults can play with it, too.
   
This is Inspec­tor Car­rot. We’re broth­ers. Just to be clear, he stud­ied chem­istry, and I stud­ied law. He does chem­i­cal trans­for­ma­tions, and I do phys­i­cal trans­for­ma­tions. Then we start­ed work­ing with chil­dren. Nei­ther of us is a spe­cial­ist, so don’t wor­ry about who’s bet­ter. We’ve also writ­ten some books on com­put­ers. “101 Books That Will Cap­ti­vate Chil­dren” was pub­lished in 2003 and is being reprint­ed this year. It cov­ers a wide age range, suit­able for read­ers as young as 14 or 15, and of course, peo­ple in their 70s and 80s can also read it.

“100 Key Ques­tions About Chil­dren’s Read­ing” was co-authored in 2005 with two teach­ers from “Par­ents Must Read.” Most of the ques­tions were answered between 2002 and 2005. I’ve been look­ing at some ques­tions online these past few days, includ­ing those on real estate infor­ma­tion web­sites. Most of the ques­tions are gen­er­al­ly com­mon. Par­tic­u­lar­ly inter­est­ing ques­tions are those that dis­cuss more spe­cif­ic issues. We need to dis­cuss over­ly abstract ques­tions in gen­er­al terms because they’re exhaust­ing. To dis­cuss such a sim­ple question—how to help chil­dren fall in love with reading—I wrote a thick book, “Help­ing Chil­dren Fall in Love with Read­ing.” Many peo­ple fall asleep while read­ing because they’re not read­ing the book cor­rect­ly. They insist on read­ing from begin­ning to end, but that’s not nec­es­sary. Read what­ev­er you find inter­est­ing, and skip ahead if it’s unin­ter­est­ing.
   
I have been par­tic­i­pat­ing in a col­umn called “Read­ing Time Togeth­er” in the mag­a­zine “Par­ents Must Read”. Every year we select the “10 Most Inter­est­ing Books”. If you are inter­est­ed, you can go to the web­site. Let me reveal here that there are not many peo­ple par­tic­i­pat­ing in the vot­ing, so the win­ning rate is very high.

   
Some­one sug­gest­ed you were a writer, say­ing you’ve writ­ten almost ten books. I said no, I don’t even know who I am. I often par­tic­i­pate in review events, includ­ing those held by the Press and Pub­li­ca­tion Admin­is­tra­tion, but the most fun thing is telling sto­ries, like I just did, with chil­dren. (Pho­tos shown) This is in a book­store, this is in an ele­men­tary school, and this is telling sto­ries with elder­ly peo­ple at a chil­dren’s lit­er­a­ture sem­i­nar. The first one is Mr. Jiang Feng, who is over 80 years old. Mr. Jiang also finds pic­ture books very enjoy­able. I did­n’t plan to share a book with you today, but it’s tru­ly fas­ci­nat­ing. It’s called “Peo­ple of Col­or.” This is play­ing with chil­dren at the train sta­tion. We often can’t find a seat. What do we do? It’s sim­ple: buy a local news­pa­per for one yuan, spread it on the floor, and sit down to read. Read­ing is such a relax­ing, enjoy­able, and com­fort­able thing. This is in the library, this is in the class­room, and this is at the New Cit­i­zen School, a school for chil­dren of migrant work­ers.
   
This is a pho­to of my daugh­ter when she was over four years old. Hong­ni­ba was born short­ly after she was born. One day she proud­ly told me that she was born at the end of 1999 and she was half a year old­er than Hong­ni­ba. 

   
I real­ly like this place and rec­om­mend it to every­one. It’s in Hangzhou, but peo­ple who go there don’t nec­es­sar­i­ly go. It’s called Yun­qi Bam­boo Path. The whole way there, she was read­ing this book. It was read to her, not by her­self, of course. It was all in tra­di­tion­al Chi­nese char­ac­ters, so how could a four-year-old under­stand? — A tor­toise som­er­sault­ed on the ground and trans­formed into a dark, ugly monk. Self-con­fi­dent about his abil­i­ties, he named him­self Fahai. Monk Fahai trav­eled exten­sive­ly and, when he arrived in Zhen­jiang, he saw the mag­nif­i­cent Yangtze Riv­er, the majes­tic Jin and Jiao Moun­tains, and the grand and solemn Jin­shan Tem­ple. He thought it was a tru­ly won­der­ful place.
   
I was tired of read­ing to her, but when she was over 4 years old, she could mem­o­rize the entire book, both vol­umes, and read it over and over again when she liked the part. I think chil­dren aged 2–5 have this very spe­cial tal­ent, which is the abil­i­ty to absorb lan­guage.
   
This is the Lei Feng Pago­da, such a beau­ti­ful place, a par­adise. When you read to her, she enjoys it and becomes immersed in it. How can you help chil­dren fall in love with read­ing? How can you achieve the best results for chil­dren? It does­n’t nec­es­sar­i­ly require a 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6… read­ing rou­tine. Instead, let her enjoy the process while immers­ing her­self in the most beau­ti­ful mem­o­ries. With such a won­der­ful process, she will sure­ly love read­ing and become an excel­lent read­er.
   
Let’s first dis­cuss a few issues with chil­dren’s read­ing. Today, we’re focus­ing on com­mu­ni­ca­tion. I’ve seen a lot of mes­sages from moth­ers online, and I’ve picked out some of the more unique ones to share with you. These moth­ers are very inter­est­ing: their four-year-old child rarely reads on his own; some chil­dren pre­fer look­ing at pic­tures rather than words; oth­ers, after read­ing, don’t stick to the book but make up their own, and so on. Each sit­u­a­tion is dif­fer­ent. Which one is con­sid­ered nor­mal? In fact, I think they are all very nor­mal. Of course, I can ful­ly under­stand that as a par­ent, you some­times feel anx­ious, espe­cial­ly when you see oth­er chil­dren doing the same thing, and your child is still the same. No one can bear it. But don’t you think that if your child is the same, and oth­er chil­dren are still the same, they can’t bear it either.
   
Every child is dif­fer­ent. Per­son­al­i­ty is what it is. Some chil­dren con­stant­ly retell sto­ries, speak­ing flu­ent­ly, while oth­ers can bare­ly man­age a sin­gle word. Still oth­ers are par­tic­u­lar­ly unique. After a long dis­cus­sion about water, they only man­age to say “flow.” This is per­fect­ly nor­mal. Chil­dren who can mem­o­rize and recite a sto­ry word for word may devel­op the abil­i­ty to retell it in the future, per­haps becom­ing actors. Some, after receiv­ing a sto­ry from some­one else, insist on rewrit­ing it to make it sound just right. This is the gift of a nov­el­ist. Oth­ers, after fin­ish­ing a 20,000-word nov­el, can only man­age to say one word: flow. Philoso­phers. Some, while not nec­es­sar­i­ly par­tic­u­lar­ly tal­ent­ed, may be diplo­mats, offer­ing books for exchange.
   
It’s okay. These reac­tions are per­fect­ly nor­mal. It’s almost impos­si­ble to find a 14-year-old who does­n’t know how to read, let alone a 4‑year-old. But how many of them tru­ly love read­ing? How many of them can tru­ly appre­ci­ate words and pic­tures? You need to look at the age, not just the 4- or 5‑year-olds. By then, every­one will rec­og­nize words. The key is that every­one’s per­son­al­i­ty and inter­ests are dif­fer­ent, so diver­si­ty and per­son­al­iza­tion are cru­cial.
   
Regard­ing top­ics like how to read well, my expe­ri­ence is in book selec­tion. Chil­dren have dif­fer­ent per­son­al­i­ties, so there’s real­ly no best book; it’s sim­ply a mat­ter of suit­abil­i­ty. I only choose books that fit my needs, like “I Don’t Know Who I Am,” which I find par­tic­u­lar­ly appeal­ing. The same goes for chil­dren. We under­stand them and the books them­selves, and it’s best to choose the right book for the right child at the right time.
   
What is the best way to read?
   
Dur­ing the dis­cus­sion, I heard sev­er­al voic­es. One said that “Beige Obses­sion” was so hap­py, and peo­ple gave them a bunch of Giv­ing Tree series and Syn­er­gy World Select pic­ture books. Anoth­er said that the hand­writ­ing in the book was not very good, and that they could edit the lan­guage. Actu­al­ly, that was also pos­si­ble. There is no fixed way to read pic­ture books, but for espe­cial­ly clas­sic pic­ture books, the Chi­nese trans­la­tions have already ful­ly tak­en into account the read­ing and lis­ten­ing skills of chil­dren of appro­pri­ate ages. Read­ing accord­ing to the book may have the best effect. Of course, I dare not say that all books can do this. Some books are very good, and the tar­get age is 4 or 5 years old, but if your child is 1 or 2 years old, he will cer­tain­ly not be able to lis­ten if you read to him accord­ing to the book.
 
    (Unfin­ished)
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Lec­ture tran­script part 2  
Lec­ture Records Part 3point