What's Good for Bad
(Or a proper place for Special Interests)
Recently, I was struck by the context in which Miss Mason discusses specialization:
Specialisation, the fetish of the end of the last century, is to be deprecated because it is at our peril that we remain too long in any one field of thought. We may not, for example, allow the affairs and interests of daily life to deprive the mind of its proper range of interests and occupations. It is even possible for a person to go into any one of the great fields of thought and to work therein with delight until he become incapable of finding his way into any other such field. We know how Darwin lost himself in science until he could not read poetry, find pleasure in pictures, think upon things divine; he was unable to turn his mind out of the course in which it had run for most of his life.
A Philosophy of Education, p. 53-54
Here, she’s expounding on her second principle: Children are not born bad but with possibilities for good and evil. She warns us that specialization can put our children on a path of evil. Or, to use milder language, this can hinder them. This caught my attention. As I have stepped into the world of autism with my son, I have learned a whole new vocabulary, including the term “special interests.” Maybe specialization starts here. For example, my son loves anything having to do with space. Love may be the wrong word here. If it’s a video from NASA, he’s seen it; if it’s a book on asteroids, space missions, or gasses that make up the atmosphere of a planet, he’s read it. He’s 10. This is his special interest. I have learned that having these interests help him to relieve stress, to regulate his nervous system, and to have a bit of control in figuring out the world in his unique way. He is also very quick to point these special interests out in others. In reading an Audubon biography recently, he concluded, “Mom, birds were just his special interest.” Or, even as I put all of my Charlotte Mason books on a new bookshelf, “Mom, I like your special interest shelf!”
And yet here is Miss Mason warning us of the possibilities of evil. She points out Darwin as an example, but surely, he is an extreme case. Did Audubon suffer because of his passion? Do I suffer due to my love of educational philosophy? Can a child suffer from absorbing everything they can get their hands on about the solar system? About chickens? About a historical or sports figure? Spending all of his hours playing a musical instrument?
“We begin to see what we want. Children make large demands upon us. We owe it to them to initiate an immense number of interests. ‘Thou hast set my feet in a large room,’ should be the glad cry of every intelligent soul. Life should be all living, and not merely a tedious passing of time; not all doing or all feeling or all thinking—the strain would be too great—but, all living; that is to say, we should be in touch wherever we go, whatever we hear, whatever we see, with some manner of vital interest.”
School Education, p. 170
Charlotte Mason says yes. We suffer in a way that everything else gets lost. Our special interests absorb us to a fault–the strain is too great–even if we don’t realize it. Life is bigger than birds or, yes, even educational philosophy or space. We lose touch with the world around us, screens aren’t the only way a person can disassociate, and our rooms become small, and life becomes… not living. So, what are we to do for ourselves and our children? If special interests, hobbies, all of these things are good, yet can become bad? What is the remedy?
Miss Mason never presents a concern without directing us towards a solution. In the quotes above, she hints at it, and here she helps us out again:
To provide a child with delightful resources on lines opposed to his natural bent is the one way of keeping a quite sane mind in the presence of an absorbing pursuit.
Parents and Children, p.77
The solution is in spreading the feast and in the concept of the large room. We, as parent-educators, can’t forsake the feast for special interests! In Navigating Autism: 9 Mindsets for Helping Kids on the Spectrum, Temple Grandin shares of an educator, “In each instance, she takes the child’s existing interest and builds on it by introducing one more idea. Stretch the child’s interests into new territory.” Whether we have special needs in our homes or not, we must stretch ourselves and grow. Charlotte Mason, again, surprises us with her insight before autism was even in the DSM-5.
So, let’s get practical. Special interests are good, but special interests can also become bad—for all of us. It’s up to us to find a good balance. Here are some ideas I have found helpful in my home:
Include special interests in the feast.
In our home, I have added a special interest stream to our lessons. We do this in addition to everything else. Sometimes, my son doesn’t like specific elements of the feast; these run on lines opposed to his natural bent. This isn’t just particular to my son. How often do we hear things like, “I didn’t like Mythology, Plutarch (enter your thing here), but now I enjoy the subject!” As Megamind, in the movie Megamind, says, “Oh, you don’t know what’s good for bad.” A Charlotte Mason education can never be classified as “child-led.” Spreading the feast forbids it! We can allow for accommodations, honoring the specific needs of our children’s born person, while working within the whole context of this philosophy. In other words, we can keep sight of the forest through all the trees.
While Temple points out that the teacher built on an interest by introducing one more idea, the Charlotte Mason educator, because we have spread the feast, can look forward to experiencing the science of relations. The ideas will come themselves, and our children will take what they need because that’s the natural way of things.
It is a great thing that the child should get the ideas proper to the qualities inherent in him. An idea fitly put is taken in without effort, and, once in, ideas behave like living creatures—they feed, grow, and multiply.
Parents and Children, p. 77
Help our children understand the concept of a large room.
Lessons aside, what about the rest of the day? It is usually here that the trouble arises, at least in my home. Last summer, I was discussing the idea of “a large room” with my boys when I got an idea. I pulled out some pieces of paper and had us consider them as our large rooms. What was in them? I had us draw everything we enjoyed doing/learning about in “our rooms.” I filled mine with books, educational philosophy, gardening, house plants, cooking, painting, poetry, music, lifting weights, nature, and more. Once our large rooms were finished, I shared with the boys how important it is to make time for everything we enjoy in our large rooms—here and there—and not spend all of our time just doing one thing. (This idea has also been a helpful way to get my boys to be mindful about their screen time without causing tension.) I told them they could pull from anything within their large rooms in the afternoon and continue to add to it, too! I wouldn’t tread on their afternoons as long as I see a specific interest isn’t consuming them. If so, an “I wonder what else is in your large room?” is enough to get that turn of mind I am after without causing any dysregulation —in my neurotypical and neurodiverse children alike.
It rests with parents to make low the high places and exalt the valleys, to make straight paths for the feet of their little son.
Parents and Children, p.68
With these simple ideas, special interests now have a place in our home.
What say you? Have you given special interests much thought? How do you approach them in your home?
Mariah Kochis 2024