Lecture transcript on “How to Play with Picture Books” (Part 2)

   
Lec­ture: How to Play with Pic­ture Books? (Part 2)
    Speak­er: A‑League
   
Time: Octo­ber 12, 2008, 9:30 AM — 12:00 PM
   
Loca­tion: Shen­zhen Sil­ver Eagle Sec­ond Kinder­garten
    Link:Graph­ic ver­sion   
Pho­to ver­sion
    Con­tin­ued)
   
Today, I’ll focus on how to make pic­ture books more engag­ing and a per­fect medi­um for help­ing chil­dren devel­op a love of read­ing. The best way to help chil­dren devel­op a love of read­ing is to read aloud to them. It’s not about say­ing, “If a child comes today, I’ll read aloud to him for half an hour and he’ll love read­ing.” Rather, it’s about read­ing to chil­dren reg­u­lar­ly, every day, start­ing at age 0, and con­tin­u­ing to read even when they’re in ele­men­tary school and can read. I’ll be vis­it­ing anoth­er ele­men­tary school this after­noon and anoth­er tomor­row, just to read to chil­dren. How long should we con­tin­ue read­ing? At least until they grad­u­ate from ele­men­tary school. Do you remem­ber what Bush was doing dur­ing 9/11? He was read­ing to ele­men­tary school stu­dents. He was such a pow­er­ful pres­i­dent, and peo­ple were about to blow up his build­ing, yet he still went to ele­men­tary school to read. This is no sim­ple act. It’s not because Amer­i­can chil­dren can’t read by the time they start school, but the pres­i­dent read­ing to sixth graders rep­re­sents a method.
   
Of all the books for chil­dren, pic­ture books are the most suit­able, even for fifth or sixth graders. I also enjoy read­ing var­i­ous types of books to teach­ers and chil­dren every­where, but I gen­er­al­ly rec­om­mend that old­er chil­dren, before they devel­op lis­ten­ing habits, start with pic­ture books. This also applies to fifth and sixth graders, because pic­ture books can be read in five or ten min­utes. If you read a nov­el for ten min­utes every day, but the child does­n’t have the habit of lis­ten­ing, they will quick­ly lose inter­est.
   
The most pow­er­ful thing about pic­ture books is that they can make chil­dren fall in love with read­ing, and even make adults fall hope­less­ly in love with “chil­dren’s books”. It is not only chil­dren who like chil­dren’s books, but also moth­ers and fathers.
   
Mr. Nao Mat­sui vis­it­ed last year. He’s a tru­ly remark­able man. At 81, he made a spe­cial trip to Chi­na, giv­ing lec­tures in Shang­hai, Bei­jing, and Shen­zhen. He’s known as the “Father of Japan­ese Pic­ture Books.” In the 1950s, pic­ture books were a nonex­is­tent genre in Japan. Against this back­drop, he and a group of pub­lish­ing elites grad­u­al­ly made Japan a world leader in pic­ture books. He once said, “Experts unan­i­mous­ly agree: Japan’s post­war edu­ca­tion­al suc­cess is entire­ly due to pic­ture books.” Was he exag­ger­at­ing, or was it mis­in­formed? No, that’s just what he said. He stud­ied inter­na­tion­al pol­i­tics and has a rich philo­soph­i­cal and cul­tur­al back­ground. In mod­ern life, oral culture—the tra­di­tion­al, famil­iar things passed down from mouth to ear, ear to mouth, and back again—is grad­u­al­ly declin­ing. We often acquire knowl­edge and com­mon sense from tele­vi­sion and com­put­ers, but when we were young, and for gen­er­a­tions before us, they were passed down through oral folk tales. These things are no longer avail­able today. So what keeps this tra­di­tion alive? What allows the same books and sto­ries to be read from gen­er­a­tion to gen­er­a­tion? Pic­ture books! What I want to tell you here is that Mr. Nao­ki Mat­sui is not wrong in what he said, at least he thinks so.
   
Pic­ture books are taught in schools and kinder­gartens. Sil­ver Eagle Kinder­garten is excep­tion­al­ly well-equipped with a strong phys­i­cal and men­tal envi­ron­ment, and the soft envi­ron­ment is equal­ly impor­tant. The chil­dren have the oppor­tu­ni­ty to enjoy mas­ter­ful works every day, which is a beau­ti­ful thing.
   
There are also book clubs. This is a book club in Guangzhou and Bei­jing. This is a fam­i­ly, and it’s on the Blue Kan­ga­roo. I real­ly love this kind of scene: par­ents read­ing with their chil­dren. How can chil­dren not love read­ing? In book­stores, libraries, and tent schools. We spent over a month in the tent school, shar­ing with the chil­dren, set­ting up tents in the mud­dy fields. The chil­dren were fas­ci­nat­ed by these books.
   
There are actu­al­ly many ways to play with pic­ture books. Every expert or per­son claim­ing to be an expert has many ways to play. Gen­er­al­ly speak­ing, I tend to look at it from the read­er’s per­spec­tive. There are at least the fol­low­ing points:
   
Sing, recite, speak
   
Make, draw, act, eat
    Break, Chat, Think
   
I recent­ly dis­cussed with the inspec­tor that this sen­tence should not be said this way, it should be like Yuan opera:
   
Sing, recite, speak
   
Make, draw, per­form, eat, break, chat, think
   
A few impor­tant state­ments:

 
Each word in the Ten Keys rep­re­sents a type of game­play, but they are just some of the com­mon ones, not all of them, and can be upgrad­ed to ver­sion 2.0 or 3.0;
 
It does­n’t mean that every book is suit­able for all kinds of game­play, nor does it mean that every­one is suit­able for all kinds of game­play. They are more like inspir­ing exam­ples. Every­one can use suit­able books and adopt suit­able game­play accord­ing to their own strengths. For exam­ple, some peo­ple are par­tic­u­lar­ly good at hand­i­crafts, and some peo­ple are par­tic­u­lar­ly good at log­i­cal analy­sis. It is par­tic­u­lar­ly inter­est­ing to crack a book. Pic­ture books can some­times be used to play crime-solv­ing games. If you have a very good artis­tic sense, you can take your chil­dren to draw. If your lan­guage expres­sion is very good, of course some game­play is uni­ver­sal, such as read­ing.

 
These games aren’t designed just for chil­dren; adults can play with them, too. Good “mud” is a joy for both adults and chil­dren. Some­times, chil­dren can detect a hint of impa­tience in your seem­ing­ly gen­tle, beau­ti­ful voice—reading to children—and they can sense your own impa­tience. Chil­dren are actu­al­ly incred­i­bly sen­si­tive to the inner work­ings of our hearts. So, don’t read to them when you don’t like it or are impa­tient, lest you pass on your impa­tience. Don’t let them think read­ing is such a tedious expe­ri­ence. Instead, let them feel that you find it enjoy­able.

   
First, Sing & Chant
   
Some pic­ture books can be sung, such as “Su Wu Shep­herd­ing Sheep”, “Dawn”, “Pulling Car­rots”, and “Joseph Has an Old Coat”. Some have lyrics. The “Su Wu Shep­herd­ing Sheep” I brought you today has lyrics. Of course, it is not easy to sing, but we can give it a try.
   
Some books are based on some­thing that can be sung. There are many such books in Eng­lish pic­ture books. I remem­ber there is an Eng­lish book called “Five Lit­tle
Ducks is in this for­mat——
    Five
lit­tle ducks went out one day
    over the
hill and far away
    moth­er duck
said “quack, quack, quack, quack”
    but only
four lit­tle ducks came back
   
What I will share with you today is not the singing method in Eng­lish, but the singing method of sev­er­al Chi­nese books.
   
Let’s take a few exam­ples of books that can be read aloud, such as “Dawn.” This book does­n’t look like it was designed for chil­dren, with a dark cov­er. How could chil­dren pos­si­bly enjoy some­thing like this? The author and artist of “Dawn” are the same person—Uli Shuli­vaz, a very famous writer. This book could be includ­ed in pic­ture book cre­ation tuto­ri­als. He gives us this scene:
    qui­et
    end
    Cold and wet
   
Under a tree by the lake,
   
The old man and his grand­son hud­dled togeth­er in blan­kets.
   
The moon­light illu­mi­nates the rocks, branch­es and leaves,
   
The moun­tain sta­tion stands there, dark and silent,
   
There was no move­ment at all.
   
At this time, a breeze blew,
    The lake trem­bled.
   
The mist began to rise slow­ly and lazi­ly.
   
A lone bat cir­cles silent­ly,
   
A frog was jump­ing, and then anoth­er.
   
A bird is singing,
   
The oth­er one respond­ed.
   
The old man woke up his grand­son.
   
They drew water from the lake,
   
Then a small fire was built,
   
They rolled up the blan­kets,
   
Push their old boat over­board.
   
They rowed the boat to the cen­ter of the lake.
   
The oars creaked,
   
Water splash­es on the soles of feet,
    Sud­den­ly,
   
The moun­tains and lakes turned emer­ald green.
   
This does­n’t seem like a sto­ry, but rather a prose piece, depict­ing the process of dawn. The paint­ing style fol­lows the dot-and-wash pat­tern of Chi­nese paint­ing, as it’s tak­en from a Tang Dynasty poem, “Fish­er­man’s Song,” by Liu Zongyuan: “A fish­er­man sleeps by the west­ern rocks at night, draw­ing clear water from the Xiang Riv­er at dawn to burn Chu bam­boo. The smoke dis­si­pates, the sun ris­es, and no one is vis­i­ble; a cry of “Ai Nai” beck­ons, and the moun­tains and waters turn green. Look­ing back, I gaze at the sky, descend­ing to the mid­dle stream; care­less clouds chase each oth­er over the rocks.” This poem can also be sung. Give it a try, and once you’ve learned it, you can teach it to your chil­dren. There are many ancient poems you can sing with chil­dren, and with pic­ture books, it’s tru­ly a joy. Dur­ing our time in Sichuan, we were able to teach the chil­dren a clas­si­cal song every two days. Get­ting the tune right isn’t always nec­es­sary; the key is to cap­ture the fla­vor.
   
There is a book that you can find on the mar­ket — Zhou Xiang’s “A Gar­den of Green Veg­eta­bles Became Spir­its”
   
Walk­ing out of the city gate and head­ing east, a gar­den of green veg­eta­bles turned into spir­its.
   
The green-head­ed radish sits in the main hall, and the red-head­ed radish sits in the main palace.
   
The white lotus root rebelled in Jiang­nan and sent a let­ter of war to the cap­i­tal.
   
The bean sprouts knelt down and made a report, while the car­rots led the troops to the bat­tle.
   
Cab­bage holds a yel­low umbrel­la, and mus­tard is the pio­neer.
   
Scal­lions are like sil­ver spears, and leeks are like dou­ble-edged swords.
   
The ox leg gourd is used to make a can­non, and the mung bean seeds are used to light the fuse.
   
Three loud blasts of can­non fire, turn­ing the pep­pers red.
   
The egg­plants were beat­en pur­ple, and the lentils were beat­en until they shriv­eled up.
   
Beat the gar­lic until the cloves split, beat the cucum­ber until it turns green from top to bot­tom,
   
The tofu was beat­en so hard that it peed out yel­low water, and the jel­ly was beat­en so hard that it trem­bled.
   
The Ox King was fright­ened when he saw it and dived into the mud pit.
   
It’s fun to sing, but it’s even more fun to com­bine it with anoth­er way to play — paint­ing. Take the chil­dren to the veg­etable gar­den and actu­al­ly draw green onions, leeks, egg­plants, lentils, and gar­lic. It’s a part of life and can be incor­po­rat­ed into life. It’s very inter­est­ing, has a tra­di­tion­al fla­vor, and can broad­en their hori­zons.
   
I put the sec­ond and third togeth­er, read­ing and speak­ing. “Read­ing” means read­ing words when there are words, and turn­ing the pages when there are no words; “speak­ing” may need to “add some fuel to the fire”, but it is not like the “I Don’t Know Who I Am” I just men­tioned. Let me make it clear here that when we tell sto­ries to chil­dren, we usu­al­ly use books instead of PPT, unless there are hun­dreds of chil­dren and we have no choice but to use PPT. Try to use the orig­i­nal words when telling the sto­ry for the first time. Telling a com­plete sto­ry is the most basic way of read­ing.
   
Read­ing good works is very sat­is­fy­ing. It seems to be the sim­plest method, but in fact we think it can also be the most advanced way to play. Through the read­ing process, chil­dren can expe­ri­ence the fla­vor of lan­guage.
   
“Swap” is an ono­matopoe­ic sto­ry. I haven’t had time to make a PPT for this sto­ry yet, but I’ll share it. It’s suit­able for younger chil­dren, around 1 or 2 years old. Younger chil­dren are very inter­est­ed in sound words. The sto­ry is sim­ple: a chick wants to go out and see the world. She makes a chirp sound, and then sees a frog. The frog’s sound is very inter­est­ing, so she switch­es it up and calls “quack,” and the frog hops away chirp­ing. Lat­er, she finds the mouse’s squeak fun­ny, so she switch­es it up again, and final­ly switch­es to a dog’s “woof.” When a cat jumps out, she barks twice at the cat, scar­ing it away. Then, she meows away, wan­ders around, and returns home. It’s a sim­i­lar sto­ry. I’ve seen chil­dren as young as 6 or 7 act it out. Chil­dren love chirps, squeaks, quacks, and woofs.
   
Anoth­er book is “Three Goats Gulp­ing.” The sto­ry is also quite sim­ple: one of three goats is cross­ing a bridge. A moun­tain mon­ster wants to eat him, but the goat says, “There’s a fat­ter one behind me. Eat it.” The mon­ster waits, but the next goat says, “There’s the strongest one behind me. Eat him.” After wait­ing for the strongest one to arrive, the goat final­ly kills him. It’s a sim­ple sto­ry, but the rep­e­ti­tion of the sto­ry, the con­stant dia­logue, invi­ta­tions, threats, and oth­er lan­guage that inter­twine, cre­ates a fas­ci­nat­ing sto­ry.
   
“You Look Deli­cious” by Tat­suya Miyan­ishi. When I am at my wit’s end, I will use this book. What I mean by “at my wit’s end” is that I don’t under­stand these chil­dren and I don’t know how to attract them. For exam­ple, when I went to the dis­as­ter area on Chil­dren’s Day, I shared it with them. The chil­dren there had nev­er heard of pic­ture books, even those in the third or fourth grade had nev­er heard of it. I thought they might like this sto­ry.
   
Before, before, a long time ago
   
On a sun­ny day.
   
Bang bang bang bang, bang bang bang bang,
   
The moun­tain spewed fire, the ground shook.
   
The baby Anky­losaurus was born, but…
   
He was the only one in such a big place.
   
The baby Anky­losaurus felt very lone­ly and start­ed to cry.
   
Walk­ing while cry­ing.
   
“Hehe­he­he, you look deli­cious.”
   
The Tyran­nosaurus Rex drooled as it pounced for­ward.
    At this moment
   
“Dad!” The baby Anky­losaurus hugged the Tyran­nosaurus Rex.
   
“I’m so scared!”
   
The Tyran­nosaurus Rex was shocked and could­n’t help but ask: “How do you know I am your father?”
   
“Because you called my name, and the one who knows my name must be my father.
   
This book ful­ly takes into account the fun of read­ing to chil­dren and the fun of each char­ac­ter. You can grasp the way he speaks, his tone, and into­na­tion. Just read it. Read the book from begin­ning to end, turn the page when you should, wait when you should, know where the child will be very inter­est­ed, wait, and where you can catch him, wait. This is the nar­ra­tive method.
   
Anoth­er exam­ple is a book with a cer­tain poet­ic qual­i­ty. This is my trans­la­tion of “Lit­tle House,” a book by Vir­ginia Lee Bur­ton. Of all the books I’ve con­tributed to, this is my favorite. It’s a beau­ti­ful book, with stun­ning end­pa­pers. The first time I read it with my daugh­ter, it felt like a life­time ago. If you believe me, find a qui­et sum­mer after­noon or a nice day and read it to your chil­dren.
   
A long time ago, there was a small house in the coun­try­side far away from the city.
   
This lit­tle house is well built.
   
She is very strong and very beau­ti­ful.
   
The mas­ter who had cov­ered her well said:
   
“This lit­tle house can nev­er be sold,
   
I won’t sell it no mat­ter how much mon­ey you offer.
   
I want to watch over our grand­chil­dren’s grand­chil­dren’s grand­chil­dren
   
My grandson’s grandson’s grand­son lives in it.”
   
The lit­tle house sits on the hill,
   
Look­ing with great joy at the coun­try­side around her,
   
In the morn­ing she watched the sun rise,
   
At dusk she watched the sun set.
    Day after day
   
Every day is a lit­tle dif­fer­ent…
   
But the lit­tle house always remains the same.
    Every night,
   
She watched the moon grad­u­al­ly change from a thin cres­cent to a full moon.
   
Then it turned back into a thin old moon,
   
When there is no moon,
    She looked at the stars.
   
In the dis­tance,
   
She could see the city lights,
   
The lit­tle house is curi­ous about the city.
   
She won­dered what it would be like to live there.
   
Time slipped away from the lit­tle house qui­et­ly,
   
She just looked at the coun­try­side,
   
Slow­ly chang­ing with the sea­sons,
    Spring is com­ing,
   
The days are get­ting longer day by day,
   
The sun warmed up,
   
She waits for the first robin,
   
Fly­ing back from the south,
   
She watched the grass turn green.
   
She watched the ten­der green buds sprout from the branch­es,
   
The apple tree is full of flow­ers,
   
She watched the chil­dren play­ing in the creek
    …
   
I’ve only read up to this point in the sto­ry. The rest of the sto­ry goes like this: sum­mer, autumn, and win­ter, and they lived a good life. But one day, a sur­vey­or came to mea­sure the route, and then many horse­less carts came, and the road was paved. Then many small hous­es appeared near­by, and then apart­ment build­ings and res­i­den­tial build­ings appeared in the back. But she could­n’t sell her house, and she stayed there dur­ing the day. There were no apple trees around her, but there were street­lights that nev­er went out. Then came trams, ele­vat­ed trams, and sub­ways. Through­out the city, hous­es were con­stant­ly being updat­ed, old hous­es were dug up, and new high-rise build­ings were built. In such a sea­son, in such an envi­ron­ment, she could only see the sun for a short while at noon. Her exte­ri­or was dilap­i­dat­ed, but the inside was still the same good house as before.
   
So on a beau­ti­ful spring morn­ing,
   
There was a man stand­ing here watch­ing her,
   
This house seems famil­iar.
   
She looks like the house where my grand­moth­er lived when she was a child.
   
It turns out that this per­son is the grand­daugh­ter of grand­ma’s grand­son’s grand­son.
   
This grand­daugh­ter dis­cov­ered that she could move,
   
So she moved her away,
   
Traf­fic was at a stand­still for two hours.
    Watch her move away
   
So I searched and searched,
   
Found a new place,
   
Very sim­i­lar to before,
   
Win­dows and blinds repaired
   
Once again, peo­ple paint­ed her a beau­ti­ful pink paint
   
When the lit­tle house was set­tled in this new place,
   
She smiled hap­pi­ly,
   
Once again she could look at the sun, moon and stars,
   
Once more she could look upon spring and sum­mer,
   
Autumn and win­ter come and go,
   
Once again, some­one lives in the lit­tle house.
    To take care of her again,
   
She will no longer be curi­ous about the city,
   
She did­n’t want to go there any­more.
   
The stars in the sky are blink­ing at each oth­er,
   
The cres­cent moon ris­es,
    It was in the spring,
   
The coun­try­side is qui­et and peace­ful every­where.
   
I was deeply moved when I trans­lat­ed this book. After­ward, I felt a bit like Sal­vador Dali: Where on earth should I live? I also tried read­ing to chil­dren who had nev­er heard of pic­ture books before. My favorite in the audi­ence was a lit­tle girl who was very qui­et while lis­ten­ing to pic­ture books. After­ward, she could­n’t help but exclaim, “How beau­ti­ful!” It real­ly felt the same way I did. A tru­ly great work can be read word for word, and there are dif­fer­ent ways to read it. For exam­ple, “Courage” can be read like an apho­rism.
   
There is anoth­er book that is very dif­fi­cult to read, “Xiao En’s Secret Gar­den”. I like this book very much. The whole struc­ture is in the form of a let­ter, a let­ter from so-and-so to so-and-so on so-and-so date.
   
This book is a dec­la­ra­tion: “Chief Seat­tle’s Procla­ma­tion,” which was writ­ten by Chief Seat­tle, the last chief whose land was pur­chased by the US gov­ern­ment, in a very ele­gant man­ner, in his native lan­guage, and lat­er trans­lat­ed. He was not allowed to sell the land to white peo­ple, but before sell­ing it, he made the fol­low­ing dec­la­ra­tion:
   
How can you buy and sell the sky?
   
Chief Seat­tle asked.
   
How can you have rain and wind?
   
My moth­er said to me,
   
We believe that every­thing on earth is sacred and invi­o­lable.
   
Every pine nee­dle, every beach
   
Fog deep in the woods
   
Vast grass­lands and buzzing insects
   
All of this is sacred in the mem­o­ry of our peo­ple.
   
He uses a series of very beau­ti­ful words to describe the rela­tion­ship between man and nature. The text of this book is now select­ed into the sixth grade Chi­nese text­book of ele­men­tary school, but in fact you will find that when a child is 5 or 6 years old, he can still hear it clear­ly when you read it to him because it is a pic­ture book.
   
Read­ing. Almost every­one who can read can read, so read­ing is often under­es­ti­mat­ed. In my opin­ion, it’s the most advanced of all the ways to play with pic­ture books (I inten­tion­al­ly omit­ted “one of”). A true mas­ter should be able to read right away, act­ing as a spe­cial lis­ten­er, observ­ing the pic­tures and lis­ten­ing to the sounds (their own) along­side the oth­er lis­ten­ers, enter­ing the authen­tic world of the pic­ture book sto­ry. This requires dili­gent study, dili­gent read­ing, and con­tem­pla­tion, and of course, a gen­uine love for it.
    (Unfin­ished)
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Lec­ture tran­script part 1  
Lec­ture tran­script part 3