The
Facts and Tommy
Ive been telling you he can read.
–MR.
LUNSKI
It
began spontaneously, this gentle revolution.
The
strange thing about it is that it came about in the end by accident.
The
kids, who are the gentle revolutionaries, didnt know that they would be able
to read if the tools were given them, and the adults in the television
industry, who finally furnished them, knew neither that the children had the
ability nor that television would supply the tools which
would bring about the gentle revolution.
The lack
of tools is the reason it took so long for it to occur, but now that its here,
we parents must become conspirators in fostering this splendid revolution, not
to make it less gentle but to make it more rapid so that the kids can reap its
rewards.
Its
astonishing really, that the secret has not been discovered by the kids long
before this. Its a wonder that they, with all their brightness–because
bright they are–didnt catch on.
The only
reason some adult hasnt given the secret away to the two-year-olds is that we
adults havent known it either. Of course, if we had known, we would never have
allowed it to remain a secret because its far too important to the kids and to
us too.
The
trouble is that we have made the print too small.
The trouble is that we have made the print too small.
The trouble is that we have made the print too small.
The trouble is that we have made the print too small.
It is
even possible to make the print too small for the sophisticated visual
pathway–which includes the brain–of the adult to read.
It is
almost impossible to make the print too big to read.
But it
is possible to make it too small, and thats just what weve done.
The
underdeveloped visual pathway, from the eye through the visual areas of the
brain itself, of the one-, two-, or three-year-old just cant differentiate one
word from another.
But now,
as weve said, television has given away the whole secret through commercials.
The result is that when the man on television says, Gulf, Gulf, Gulf, in a nice
clear, loud voice and the television screen shows the word GULF in nice big,
clear letters, the kids all learn to recognize the word–and they dont
even know the alphabet.
For the
truth is that tiny children can learn to read. It is safe to say that in particular
very young children can read, provided that, in the beginning, you make the
print very big.
But we
know both of those things now.
Now that
we know we have got to do something about it, because what will happen when we
teach all the little kids to read will be very important to the world.
But isnt
it easier for a child to understand a spoken word rather than a written one? Not at all. The childs brain, which is the only organ that
has learning capacity, hears the clear, loud television words through the ear
and interprets them as only the brain can. Simultaneously the childs brain sees
the big, clear television words through his eye and interprets them in exactly
the same manner.
It makes
no difference to the brain whether it sees a sight or hears a sound. It can
understand both equally well. All that is required is that the sounds be loud
enough and clear enough for the ear to hear and the words big enough and clear
enough for the eye to see so that the brain can interpret them–the former
we have done but the latter we have failed to do.
People
have probably always talked to children in a louder voice than they use with
adults, and we still do so, instinctively realizing that children cannot hear
and simultaneously understand normal adult conversational tones.
Everyone
talks loudly to children, and the younger the child is
the louder we talk.
Suppose,
for the sake of argument, that we adults had long ago
decided to speak to each other in sounds just soft enough so that no child
could hear and understand them. Suppose, however, that these sounds were just
loud enough for his auditory pathway to have become sufficiently sophisticated
to hear and understand soft sounds when he got to be six years of age.
Under
this set of circumstances we would probably give children hearing readiness tests
at six years of age. If we found that he could hear but not understand words
(which would certainly be the case, since his auditory pathway could not
distinguish soft sounds until now), it is possible that we would now introduce
him to the spoken language by saying the letter A to him, and then B, and so on
until he had learned the alphabet, before beginning to teach him how words
sound.
One is
led to conclude that perhaps there would be a great many children with a
problem of hearing words and sentences, and that instead of Rudolf Fleschs well-known book called Why Johnny Cant Read, we
would need a book called Why Johnny Cant Hear.
The
above is precisely what we have done with written language. We have made it too
small for the child to see and understand it.
Now lets
make another supposition.
If we
had spoken in whispers while simultaneously writing words and sentences very
large and distinct, very young children would be able to read but would be unable
to understand verbal language.
Now
suppose that television were introduced with its big written words and with
loud spoken words to go with them. Naturally all kids could read the words, but
there would also be many children who would begin to understand the spoken word
at the astonishing age of two or three.
And
that, in reverse, is what is happening today in reading!
TV has
also shown us several other interesting things about children.
The
first is that youngsters watch most kiddie programs
without paying constant attention; but as everyone knows, when the commercials
come on the children run to the television set to hear about and read about
what the products contain and what they are supposed to do.
The
point here is not that television commercials are pitched to the two-year-old
set, nor is it that gasoline or what it contains has any special fascination
for two-year-olds, because it does not.
The
truth is that the children can learn from commercials with the big enough,
clear enough, loud enough, repeated message and that all children have a rage
to learn.
Children
would rather learn about something than simply be amused by Mickey
Mouse–and thats a fact.
As a
result then, the kids ride down the road in the family car and blithely read
the Gulf sign, the McDonalds sign and the Coca-Cola sign as well as many
others–and thats a fact.
There is
no need to ask the question, Can very small children learn to read? Theyve
answered that, they can. The question that should be asked is, What do we want
children to read? Should we restrict their reading to the names of products
and the rather strange chemicals that these products or our stomachs contain,
or should we let them read something which might enrich their lives and which
might be a part of Maplewood Avenue rather than Madison Avenue?
Lets
look at all of the basic facts:
1. Tiny
children want to learn to read.
2. Tiny
children can learn to read.
3. Tiny
children are learning to read.
4. Tiny
children should learn to read.
We shall
devote a chapter to each of these four facts. Each of them is true and each is
simple. Perhaps that has been a large part of the problem. There are few
disguises harder to penetrate than the deceptive cloak of simplicity.
It was
probably this very simplicity that made it difficult for us to understand, or
even to believe, the absurd story that Mr. Lunski
told us about Tommy.
Its
strange that it took us so long to pay any attention to Mr. Lunski,
because when we first saw Tommy at The Institutes we were already aware of all
the things we needed to know in order to understand what was happening to
Tommy.
Tommy
was the fourth child in the Lunski family. The Lunski parents hadnt had much time for formal schooling
and had worked very hard to support their three nice, normal children. By the
time Tommy was born, Mr. Lunski owned a taproom and
things were looking up.
However,
Tommy was born very severely brain-injured. When he was two years old he was
admitted for neurosurgical examination at a fine hospital in New Jersey. The
day Tommy was discharged the chief neurosurgeon had a frank talk with Mr. and
Mrs. Lunski. The doctor explained that his studies
had shown that Tommy was a vegetable-like child who would never walk or talk
and should therefore be placed in an institution for life.
All of
Mr. Lunskis determined Polish ancestry reinforced
his American stubbornness as he stood up to his great height, hitched up his
considerable girth and announced, Doc, youre all mixed up. Thats our
kid.
The Lunskis spent many months searching for someone who would
tell them that it didnt necessarily have to be that way. The answers were all
the same.
By Tommys
third birthday, however, they had found Dr. Eugene Spitz, chief of neurosurgery
at Childrens Hospital in Philadelphia.
After
carefully making his own neurosurgical studies, Dr. Spitz told the parents that while Tommy was indeed severely brain-injured,
perhaps something might be done for him at a group of institutions in a suburb
called Chestnut Hill.
Tommy
arrived at The Institutes for the Achievement of Human Potential when he was
just three years and two weeks old. He could not move or talk.
Tommys
brain injury and his resultant problems were evaluated at The Institutes. A
treatment program was prescribed for Tommy which would
reproduce the normal developmental growth of well children in Tommy. The
parents were taught how to carry out this program at home and were told that if
they adhered to it without failure, Tommy might be greatly improved. They were
to return in sixty days for a re-evaluation, and if Tommy were improved, for
program revisions.
There
was no question but that the Lunskis would follow the
strict program. They did so with religious intensity.
By the
time they returned for the second visit, Tommy could creep.
Now the Lunskis attacked the program with energy inspired by
success. So determined were they that when their car broke down on the way to
Philadelphia for the third visit, they simply bought a used car and continued
to their appointment. They could hardly wait to tell us that Tommy could now
say his first two words–Mommy and Daddy. Tommy was now three and
a half and could creep on hands and knees.
Then his
mother tried something only a mother would try with a child like Tommy. In much
the same manner that a father buys a football for his infant son, Mother bought
an alphabet book for her three-and-a-half-year-old, severely brain-injured, two-word-speaking son. Tommy, she announced, was
very bright, whether he could walk and talk or not. Anyone who had any sense
could see it simply by looking in his eyes!
While
our tests for intelligence in brain-injured children during those days were a
good deal more involved than Mrs. Lunskis, they were
no more accurate than hers. We agreed that Tommy was intelligent all right, but
to teach a brain-injured three-and-a-half-year-old to read–well, that was
another question.
We paid
very little attention when Mrs. Lunski announced that
Tommy, then four years of age, could read all of the words in the alphabet book
even more easily than he could read the letters. We were more concerned and
pleased with his speech, which was progressing constantly, as was his physical
mobility.
By the
time Tommy was four years and two months old his father announced that he could
read all of a Dr. Seuss book called Green Eggs and Ham. We smiled politely and
noted how remarkably Tommys speech and movement were improving.
When
Tommy was four years and six months old Mr. Lunski
announced that Tommy could read, and had read, all of the Dr. Seuss books. We
noted on the chart that Tommy was progressing beautifully, as well as the fact
that Mr. Lunski said Tommy could read.
When
Tommy arrived for his eleventh visit he had just had his fifth birthday.
Although both Dr. Spitz and we were delighted with the superb advances Tommy
was making, there was nothing to indicate at the beginning of the visit that
this day would be an important one for all children. Nothing, that is, except
Mr. Lunskis usual nonsensical report. Tommy, Mr. Lunski announced, could now read anything, including the
Readers Digest, and what was more, he could understand it, and what was more
than that, hed started doing it before his fifth birthday.
We were
saved from the necessity of having to comment on this by the arrival of one of
the kitchen staff with our lunch–tomato juice and a hamburger. Mr. Lunski, noting our lack of response, took a piece of paper
from the desk and wrote, Glenn Doman likes to drink tomato juice and eat
hamburger.
Tommy,
following his fathers instructions, read this easily and with the proper
accents and inflections. He did not hesitate as does
the seven-year-old, reading each word separately without understanding of the
sentence itself.
Write
another sentence, we said slowly.
Mr. Lunski wrote, Tommys daddy likes to drink beer and
whiskey. He has a great big fat belly from drinking beer and whiskey at Tommys
Tavern.
Tommy
had read only the first three words aloud when he began to laugh. The funny
part about Dads belly was down on the fourth line since Mr. Lunski was writing in large letters.
This
severely brain-injured little child was actually reading much faster than he
was reciting the words aloud at his normal speaking rate. Tommy was not only
reading, he was speed-reading and his comprehension was obvious!
The fact
that we were thunderstruck was written on our faces. We turned to Mr. Lunski.
Ive
been telling you he can read, said Mr. Lunski.
After
that day none of us would ever be the same, for this was the last piece of
puzzle in a pattern which had been forming for more
than twenty years.
Tommy
had taught us that even a severely brain-injured child can
learn to read far earlier than normal children usually do.
Tommy,
of course, was immediately subjected to full-scale testing by a group of experts
who were brought from Washington, D.C., for this purpose within a week.
Tommy–severely brain-injured and just barely five years old–could
read better than the average child twice his age–and with complete
comprehension.
By the
time Tommy was six he walked, although this was relatively new to him and he
was still a little shaky; he read at the sixth-grade level (eleven- to
twelve-year-old level). Tommy was not going to spend his life in an
institution, but his parents were looking for a special school to put Tommy
in come the following September. Special high, that is, not
special low. Fortunately there are schools now for exceptional gifted children.
Tommy has had the dubious gift of severe brain injury and the unquestionable
gift of parents who love him very much indeed and who believed that at least
one kid wasnt achieving his potential.
Tommy,
in the end, was a catalyst for twenty years of study. Maybe it would be more
accurate to say he was a fuse for an explosive charge that had been growing in
force for twenty years.
The
fascinating thing was that Tommy wanted very much to read and enjoyed it
tremendously.