Get the full ebook with Bonus Features for a Better Reading Experience on ebookgate.

com

Infotext Reading and Learning 2nd Edition Karen M.

Feathers

https://ebookgate.com/product/infotext-reading-and-
learning-2nd-edition-karen-m-feathers/

OR CLICK HERE

DOWLOAD NOW

Download more ebook instantly today at https://ebookgate.com

Instant digital products (PDF, ePub, MOBI) available
Download now and explore formats that suit you...

Improving Workplace Learning 1st Edition Karen Evans

https://ebookgate.com/product/improving-workplace-learning-1st-
edition-karen-evans/

ebookgate.com

HPLC of biological macromolecules 2nd ed., rev. and

expanded Edition Karen M Gooding

https://ebookgate.com/product/hplc-of-biological-macromolecules-2nd-
ed-rev-and-expanded-edition-karen-m-gooding/

ebookgate.com

Understanding Reading A Psycholinguistic Analysis of

Reading and Learning to Read 6th Edition Frank Smith

https://ebookgate.com/product/understanding-reading-a-
psycholinguistic-analysis-of-reading-and-learning-to-read-6th-edition-
frank-smith/
ebookgate.com

Teaching and Learning Second Language Listening 2nd

Edition Christine C. M. Goh

https://ebookgate.com/product/teaching-and-learning-second-language-
listening-2nd-edition-christine-c-m-goh/

ebookgate.com
Reading and Writing 2nd Edition Els

https://ebookgate.com/product/reading-and-writing-2nd-edition-els/

ebookgate.com

Physical Geology Laboratory Manual Fourth Edition Woods

Karen M

https://ebookgate.com/product/physical-geology-laboratory-manual-
fourth-edition-woods-karen-m/

ebookgate.com

Reading Hosea in Achaemenid Yehud James M. Trotter

https://ebookgate.com/product/reading-hosea-in-achaemenid-yehud-james-
m-trotter/

ebookgate.com

Geropsychiatric and Mental Health Nursing 2nd Edition

Karen Devereaux Melillo

https://ebookgate.com/product/geropsychiatric-and-mental-health-
nursing-2nd-edition-karen-devereaux-melillo/

ebookgate.com

Obstetrics Gynecology PreTest Self Assessment Review 11th

Edition Karen M. Schneider

https://ebookgate.com/product/obstetrics-gynecology-pretest-self-
assessment-review-11th-edition-karen-m-schneider/

ebookgate.com
Infotext
Reading and Learning

KAREN M. FEATHERS

Pippin Publishing
Copyright © 2004 by Pippin Publishing Corporation
85 Ellesmere Road
Suite 232
Toronto, Ontario
M1R 4B9
www.pippinpub.com

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or trans-

mitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, or otherwise, in-
cluding photocopying and recording, or stored in any retrieval system
without permission in writing from the publisher.

Edited by Dyanne Rivers

Designed by John Zehethofer
Typeset by Jay Tee Graphics Ltd.
Printed and bound in Canada by AGMV Marquis Imprimeur Inc.

“Profit-taking Prevents Record Close” reprinted by permission of The Asso-

ciated Press.

”Afghan” reprinted compliments of Leisure Arts Inc., Our Best Knit Baby Af-
ghans, © 2000, “Decked in Diamonds” by Carole Prior. For further informa-
tion, contact 1-800-526-5111.

We acknowledge the financial support of the Government of Canada

through the Book Publishing Industry Development program for our pub-
lishing activities.

We acknowledge the support of the Government of Ontario through the On-

tario Media Development Corporation’s Ontario Book Initiative.

National Library of Canada Cataloguing in Publication

Feathers, Karen M., 1941-

Infotext : reading and learning / Karen Feathers ; edited by Dyanne
Rivers. — 2nd ed.

(The Pippin teacher’s library ; 24)

Includes bibliographical references.
ISBN 0-88751-076-0
1. Reading comprehension. 2. Content area reading.
3. Reading (Elementary) 4. Reading (Secondary)
5. Reading (Higher education) I. Rivers, Dyanne II. Title. III. Series: Pippin
teacher’s library ; 24.

LB1050.45.F43 2004 428.4’3 C2004-900399-2

ISBN 0-88751-076-0

10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
CONTENTS

Preface 7

Why Teach Content Reading? 9

Why Teach Content Reading? 10
Why Teach Reading in Content Classes? 19
Summary 19

The Basis of Content Reading 21

Is All Reading the Same? 21
What Factors Affect Reading? 23
How Do We Read? 26
What Do Good Readers Do? 32
What Do We Know about Learning That Can Help Us? 32
Summary 40

Evaluating Students and Texts 41

Differences between Narrative and Expository Texts 41
Evaluating Texts Using Readability Formulas 44
Evaluating Texts for Instructional Planning 45
Evaluating Reading through a Content Informal Reading
Inventory 53
Alternative Ways of Evaluating Student’s Ability to Read
Content Texts 55
Summary 56

Understanding Vocabulary 57
Should Vocabulary Be Taught Formally? 58
Learning Vocabulary: Terms and Concepts 59
Learning Vocabulary: Many Concepts, One Label 63
The Importance of Learning Vocabulary in Context 64
Helping Students Develop Independent Strategies 65
Helping Students Deal with Unfamiliar Vocabulary 72
Summary 76
Making Connections 79
Finding Out What Students Know 80
Helping Students Make Connections 82
Summary 92

Focusing on Meaning 95
Helping Students Monitor Understanding 95
Helping Students Develop Metacognitive Awareness 97
Encouraging Active Reading 102
Identifying Important Information 107
Summary 113

Organizing Information — New Perspectives 115

Charts 116
Semantic Maps 121
Summaries 131
Summary 135

The Importance of Reflective Writing 137

Journals and Learning Logs 138
Letters and E-Mail Messages 141
Poetry 143
Recycled Stories 150
Summary 156

Bibliography 157
Professional References 157
Infotext References 161
 To my parents, whose love and support has made
all things possible — “For now I know who I am
and what I am, and that is simply me.”
. . . . . . . . . . . . . .

P R E FA C E

I nfotexts are the books, textbooks, journals, news-

papers, and computer manuals that we read to gather informa-
tion about particular topics. They may be oral — lectures and
speeches — as well as written. The size, shape, appearance, and
content of infotexts may change from year to year, but they re-
main the same in one important way — they deal with informa-
tion.
For more years than I care to remember, I’ve worked with
students of varying ages to help them become better readers.
My first position was as a remedial reading teacher for grades
seven to twelve. Even then, when I knew much less than I do
now about the reading process, I was aware that students had
much more difficulty reading content texts than fictional narra-
tives, and I began to spend more and more time helping them
overcome this difficulty.
Over the years, my interest in informational reading has con-
tinued and grown. I’ve read many books on the subject but
have found none that reflect my beliefs. Though these books are
packed with information about readability formulas, student
motivation, and activities designed to increase students’ learn-
ing, they focus on what teachers can do. The activities are, for the
most part, generated and controlled by the teacher.
In this book, I am presenting an alternative because I believe
that the best way to help readers is to provide them with oppor-
tunities to help themselves. Though teachers may initiate some
of the activities suggested, the activities themselves are con-
trolled by the students. Rather than following a study guide de-
veloped by a teacher to reflect the teacher’s ideas, students de-
velop their own notes, reflecting their own ideas about what is
important and how the text is organized.

7
 If we want people to swim, we must be prepared to help
them into the lake — they can’t learn by sitting on the dock and
dangling their feet in the water. I throw students into the lake of
content reading, but not by themselves. I throw everyone in to-
gether — and I jump in with them. If someone starts to sink, we
can all help push him or her to the surface. Though I provide
support, I don’t do the swimming for them.
If students are to learn how to read infotexts, they must read
real texts, not bits and pieces of texts. And teachers cannot do
the reading and thinking for them. Supporting their attempts
does not mean providing them with study guides; rather, it
means helping them develop strategies to use during reading
and giving them opportunities to explore and talk about their
discoveries.
This book is about reading and learning. We read infotexts in
order to learn. Reading affords us the opportunity to learn not
only through reading but also about reading. When we do things
that help students become better readers, they will also learn,
through the reading they do, about the topics they are study-
ing.
Infotext: Reading and Learning reflects my belief that reading
and learning are not separate activities. Rather, they happen si-
multaneously every time we open a book. I invite you to con-
tinue in this book to read, to learn to read, and to learn.
In this revised edition, I have made some changes that are a
direct result of both the growth in my understanding of reading
processes and the feedback I have received from those who
have read and used the original edition. I thank the readers
who have taken the time to communicate to me their applica-
tions, opinions, and suggestions, and I encourage new readers
to do the same.

8
. . . . . . . . . . . . . .

WHY TEACH

CONTENT READING?

H ere are some of the reasons teachers cite for not

teaching reading to students during content classes such as
math, science, social studies, art, music, accounting, and physi-
cal education.
— Teaching reading is the job of the reading teacher.
— By the time students get to me, they should know how to
read.
— I teach art (physical education, etc.) and I don’t use
books.
— Why should I teach reading? Students don’t read the text-
book anyway.
— I have to cover the curriculum and get students ready for
mandated tests. I don’t have time to teach reading.
I’ve heard comments like these many times as I work with
teachers to integrate reading instruction into content classes. I
include them because they raise important issues. Teachers are
expected to “cover” certain content material in their classes,
and many have had little or no instruction in teaching reading.
In addition, because reading is taught as a separate subject in
elementary school, we have come to believe that it is a skill
learned in elementary school, preferably in the first three or
four grades, then applied to content reading as learning contin-
ues. The organization of schools and our own training as teach-
ers foster these beliefs.

9
Why Teach Content Reading?

Current understandings of reading instruction and learning in

general suggest that, contrary to the pervasive beliefs men-
tioned in the introduction to this chapter, reading is best taught
when integrated into all subjects, that learning how to read
never stops, and that reading instruction need not take time
from the learning of content. To show you what I mean, I will
address one by one the comments listed earlier.

Teaching reading is the job of the reading teacher.

Read the following texts.

10
Were you able to understand both texts? If you are like most
people, you probably had trouble understanding at least one
and possibly both. Yet the audience for both — the first is from a
newspaper and the second from a magazine — is the general
public. This means that they should not be hard to read, yet
they can be. Ask yourself what was difficult about them.
Next, consider who you would go to for help in understand-
ing these passages. When I show them to students in my own
classes and ask who they would go to for help, the one person
who is never mentioned is the reading teacher. Students say
they would go to their uncle who plays the stock market, the
business teacher in their building, or their aunt or a neighbor
who knits a lot. In other words, they would go to someone who
knows the subject, not to someone who knows how to read or
how to teach reading.
This is because comprehending text involves much more
than knowing words, and only a content expert can help you
understand the background information, the vocabulary, and
even the style of writing of each text. This is why it is so impor-
tant for content teachers to teach their students how to read in
their subject. In an article in The Reading Teacher, Thomasenia
Adams wrote that “a knower of mathematics is a doer of mathe-
matics and a doer of mathematics is a reader of mathematics.”
This statement could be applied to any subject — a knower of
science or history or basketball. We must all be teachers of read-
ing in our subject area.

11
By the time students get to me, they should know how to read.

First we learn to read, then we read to learn. This statement rep-

resents the thinking that has, for years, dominated not only
reading instruction, but also instruction in the content areas. It
implies that students are first taught a skill called reading, so
that they can then use this skill to learn by reading a variety of
informational material, such as content textbooks. The dichot-
omy between “learning to read” and “reading” suggests two
things: first, that at some point we stop learning to read and be-
gin reading to learn; and second, that if we have successfully
learned how to read — if we are labeled proficient readers —
we should be able to read anything.
My own experiences (and yours in trying to read the two
texts on the previous pages) tell me that neither of these suppo-
sitions is true. I have certainly had trouble reading many texts
since I achieved what anyone would identify as reading “profi-
ciency.” For instance, when my son, Jeff, started reading sci-
ence-fiction stories in his teens, I began reading them, too, so
that we could continue to talk about books. At first, I had diffi-
culty with the stories because they were so different from the
narratives I was used to. Since then, I have become an avid
science-fiction reader and no longer have difficulty with those
texts.
Surely, this suggests that I have continued to learn to read. I
could recount similar experiences with the mystery books I be-
gan to read only after getting hooked on mysteries on televi-
sion, the statistics texts I encountered while doing graduate
work, and such common reading material as income tax forms,
directions for working my VCR and digital camera, manuals
for operating my computer, and more recently, the texts that I
encounter on the Internet that become a maze of interconnec-
tions through links with other sites. My initial encounters with
all these materials — and many others — were problematic,
some to the point where I wondered whether I knew how to
read at all. Nevertheless, in all cases, I eventually came to un-
derstand both the material and how to read the material.
My experience, then, indicates that we are continually en-
gaged in learning about reading. We never reach a point where
we can say we have nothing more to learn. Each new text offers,
even demands, new learning about reading. No one ever sim-

12
ply reads to learn; we are always learning about reading, even
when information gathering is uppermost in our minds. For
this reason, we can never restrict learning to read to certain
grade levels or to certain courses. Reading instruction is some-
thing that all teachers must do all the time. It is important to
teach reading in all subject areas, so that students become not
only better readers, but also successful learners.

I teach art (physical education, etc.) and I don’t use books.

I play piano and guitar; I design and make quilts and afghans;
and I jog four miles a day — but I cannot envision these parts of
my life without reading. The material that I read is varied and
may include newspapers, magazines, books, articles on the
Internet, and messages and notes from others involved in the
same activities. If you do not engage students in reading in the
typical content areas as well as in areas that are sometimes
viewed as hands-on, you do them a disservice.
When planning a new quilt, I study the designs of others,
read about quilting features that might affect the design cho-
sen, research the historical connections of particular patterns,
and communicate with other quilters about various materials
and techniques. How do you teach a sport without involving
students in reading about it in newspapers and magazines and
on the Internet, in reading about important sports figures, and
in reading the rules of the game? This reading may involve
books — there are books for every topic imaginable — but what
about all the other material available? If you teach students
only the technical aspects of playing a game, drawing a picture,
or playing an instrument, then you are omitting some of the
most important components of the subject.

Why should I teach reading? Students don’t read the textbook any-
way.

Fred Smith, who taught social studies methods at Indiana Uni-

versity, and I conducted a year-long investigation of reading in
junior high and high school social studies classrooms to find
out what kinds of help teachers provided students in reading
infotexts. We observed in four classrooms three times a week

13
for ten weeks in the fall and, in the spring, every day for five to
six weeks. We also interviewed the students and their teachers.
Disturbingly, the interviews revealed that seventy-five per-
cent of the students read no part of the textbook even though
reading was assigned regularly. Though we certainly didn’t ex-
pect all students to read the texts, we were surprised to find that
such a large number did no textbook reading at all. In fact, only
five percent of the students usually read the text, while the re-
mainder read varying small portions.
One student who said he read part of the text was asked what
— and when — he read. He replied, “I read the headings and
the stuff under the pictures on the way from first period to sec-
ond.” Students avoided reading the textbook, regardless of the
assignments developed by teachers to ensure that they were
read.
Similar results have been found in the studies done since
then. When Barbara Guzzetti, Cynthia Hynd, Stephanie Skeels,
and Wayne Williams asked high school science students
whether they read their texts, they found that seventy-four per-
cent of general science students, sixty-six percent of physics
students, and seventy-five percent of honors physics students
never or rarely used their texts beyond doing the assigned
problems in each chapter. When asked how much they liked
the textbook, students replied, “I don’t know. I’ve never
opened it.”
The primary concern of teachers who participated in staff de-
velopment workshops conducted by William Bintz was that
students are not reading. This was true regardless of the con-
tent area or the material used.
So why don’t students read their textbooks? For one thing,
because there is often no reason to do so.
In the classrooms where Fred and I observed, teachers lec-
tured on the material covered in the readings, thereby provid-
ing all the information students needed to know. This hap-
pened even when infotext reading was assigned and even
when students were expected to answer questions on the read-
ing.
When questioned, teachers said they lectured on the material
either because students didn’t read the text or the text was too
difficult and they believed they needed to explain it. These ex-
planations make sense if the focus is on learning the informa-

14
tion in the text; however, we must recognize that, as long as the
teacher provides the information, students will have no real
reason to read the text to gather information for themselves.
And because they know the teacher will explain everything,
there is also no reason for them to make a studious attempt to
comprehend the text.
Another reason students don’t read their textbooks is that
they don’t know how.
When Fred and I interviewed students, they told us that they
had trouble reading their textbooks. This was confirmed by our
observations. When we were observing in the classrooms, we
were often approached by students to help them find answers
in the textbooks for worksheet questions. This happened as of-
ten in advanced classes as it did in “low-track” classes.
Though low reading ability may be one reason students
have trouble reading textbooks, other explanations are also
possible — and even probable.

— They have not had experiences with content texts and

don’t know how to read them. In the early elementary
grades, most of the books used to teach reading are fic-
tional narratives, and most students learn to read these
successfully. Students are exposed to far fewer informa-
tional texts and are therefore less familiar with the text
structures, vocabulary, sentence structures, and organi-
zational patterns of infotexts.
— Reading strategies that students have developed and
used to comprehend fictional narratives successfully do
not necessarily help them understand infotexts, and
strategies developed for content textbooks might not
readily apply to Internet texts. When they read content
texts, students may not possess the necessary processing
strategies or they may not know how or when to use
them. If they continually fail to understand what they’re
reading, they will eventually give up their attempts to
comprehend the text.
— Students’ proficiency in reading fiction suggests to them
that they are capable readers. They assume that if they
can read one text, they can read them all. Then, when they
encounter difficulty with unfamiliar infotexts, they
blame themselves for their failure to understand. They

15
 question their original assessment of their ability and de-
cide that they aren’t capable readers after all. At this
point, they stop trying to deal with content texts, ratio-
nalizing continued attempts to do so as futile.
Students may also be reluctant to read their textbooks be-
cause there are many problems with the textbooks themselves.
Many texts, particularly textbooks, are poorly written. A group
of teachers reviewed a chapter on the American Civil War in a
fifth-grade social studies text and came up with the following
list of problems:
— Poor organization.
— Sequence of events not in order.
— Abrupt shifts in topic.
— Headings, subheadings not related.
— Subheadings not related to material contained in the sec-
tion.
— Too much material covered in one chapter.
— Too many unrelated details.
— Little depth on any topic.
— Information biased.
— Vocabulary not explained.
— Vocabulary poorly explained.
— Few examples that helped students understand terms.
— Pictures not explained.
— Pictures and maps not related to information on the page.
— Poor sentence structure.
— Short, choppy sentences.
— Questions at end of chapter focus on details.
— Some questions not answerable based on information
given.
One of the major problems with the chapter examined was
the amount of information covered. Events that led to the war,
the events of the war itself, and reconstruction after the war
were all covered in fourteen pages.
Harriet Bernstein suggested that what she called “mention-
ing” is a major factor leading to many of the other problems. Re-
sponding to pressure from a variety of special- interest groups,
textbook publishers attempt to cover a lot of ground in a single
text. To do so, they resort to mentioning many issues, provid-

16
ing virtually no in-depth discussion of any of them. This trend
also contributes to organizational shortcomings, shifts in topic,
a failure to explain vocabulary, and many other problems.
When students have little experience with infotexts, reading
even well-written content texts can be difficult. Their problems
are compounded dramatically when the infotexts they encoun-
ter are poorly written. Unfortunately, because teachers rarely
acknowledge the shortcomings of these texts, students blame
themselves, rather than the texts, for their difficulties. Helping
students become aware of problems in the texts themselves can
significantly change their attitude toward reading and increase
the amount of informational reading they do.
Even well-written informational texts are structured differ-
ently from the fictional narratives students are more familiar
with. Fictional narratives tend to focus on people involved in
familiar actions and events that follow a basic time sequence.
Infotexts often focus on unfamiliar topics that are defined, ex-
plained, and described in terms of, and related to, other dis-
crete items of information that are irrelevant to students’ lives
outside the classroom.
In addition, each subject area has its own way of organizing
information, and students are often unfamiliar with the struc-
tures of specific disciplines. Len Unsworth pointed out how
these differences lead to different vocabulary and grammatical
structures in texts. Students who are unfamiliar with the struc-
tures used to organize a discipline and with the grammar and
vocabulary that are the results of those structures will have
trouble reading texts related to the subject.
We’re all familiar with the phenomenon of students’ memo-
rizing material for tests, then promptly forgetting just about ev-
erything. Many of us have done exactly the same thing ourselves.
If we want real learning to occur, the information students en-
counter must be relevant to them in some way. This doesn’t
mean that they should read only about things like movie stars,
sports, or whatever else is currently of interest. It does mean
that textbooks should present information in a way that it is
both understandable and relevant to the students for whom it is
intended. This is not typically the case with content texts.

17
I have to cover the curriculum and get students ready for mandated
tests. I don’t have time to teach reading.

This is a common complaint of content teachers. Every year, it

seems as if more and more information is added to the curricu-
lum of various subject areas, and knowledge of this informa-
tion is often tested on mandated standardized tests. As a result,
content teachers are rightly concerned about ensuring that this
material is covered. I have yet, however, to meet a teacher who
has managed to “cover” the entire textbook in a year. The real-
ity is that we rarely cover everything. We never get to those last
two — or four or six — chapters. This happens year after year,
yet we spend every year going through the text chapter by
chapter. Instead, I suggest that teachers look through the text
and select in advance the chapters or parts of chapters that they
are not going to “cover.”
Alternatively, in order to cover the material, I have seen
teachers move on to the next chapter even though half the class
does not understand the current one. This places the emphasis
on coverage, rather than student learning. If we truly want stu-
dents to learn, we must use the best strategies to teach that sub-
ject. Len Unsworth wrote, “Learning in the content areas means
learning to read, write, and talk about texts in the various con-
tent areas.” Teaching a subject means teaching students how to
read and write that subject. This does not take time away from
teaching the content; rather, it means using reading and writ-
ing to learn the content more effectively.

Why Teach Reading in Content Classes?

It is the best way to learn how to read infotexts.

The best way to learn anything is, of course, to do it. The best
way to learn how to cook, for example, is to cook, perhaps in the
company of an experienced chef. Similarly, the best way to
learn how to read content texts, including books, Internet mate-
rial, journals, and so on, is to do so with support from someone
experienced in reading this type of material; that is, a content
teacher.

18
It results in better learning of content material.

Teaching reading in content classrooms does much more than

help students learn to read their texts. The techniques devel-
oped and used to improve reading proficiency also help
deepen students’ understanding and, therefore, learning of the
material. Many teachers are reluctant to teach what they con-
sider to be “reading skills” during content classes because they
fear it will reduce the amount of time available to learn the con-
tent. In fact, engaging students in sound comprehension activi-
ties contributes to increased learning of content material in less
time.

It helps students become independent learners.

When students are able to understand their content texts with-

out assistance, teachers no longer need to spend time telling
them what the text said. This frees class time for activities that
provide deeper understanding, expand on text information,
provoke critical evaluation of information, and present stu-
dents with opportunities to apply what they’ve learned. These
activities help students develop the interests and skills to en-
sure that they become lifelong learners capable of self-
motivated learning.

Summary
All reading involves learning, not only of content, but also
about the reading process itself. For a variety of reasons, many
students have difficulty reading infotexts and need help to deal
with these texts if learning is to occur. Instruction that involves
sound comprehension activities results not only in more profi-
cient reading, but also in more effective learning of content.
Content reading must be taught, but how does one begin?
To help you get started, this book begins by taking a brief
look at the theoretical basis for reading and content instruction.
Then, it explains various classroom strategies that can be used
to enable students to become independent readers and learn-
ers. These strategies differ from instructional methods that fo-
cus on things teachers can do so that students learn the material
covered. They focus on things students can do to read and learn

19
more effectively. In fact, if the strategies are successful, they
will become obsolete — students will internalize and use them
whenever they read informational material.
Jerome Harste says that any instance of reading affords the
opportunity to “learn reading, to learn about reading, and to
learn through reading.” The strategies described in this book
provide the opportunities for all this learning to occur without
decreasing the time spent on content learning. Each strategy is
designed to focus on content. This ensures that we are never
simply teaching reading but are, instead, introducing activities
that help students learn the subject knowledge at the same time
as they learn how to read.

20
. . . . . . . . . . . . . .

THE BASIS

OF CONTENT READING

T hough we don’t need to immerse ourselves in

reading courses to teach content reading, we do need to under-
stand some basics if we are to make wise decisions about the in-
structional strategies we use with students. Is all reading the
same? What factors affect reading? How do we read? What do
proficient readers do? What do we know about learning that
can help us?

Is All Reading the Same?

A belief that reading is a generic skill has predominated for
many years. We see it in materials used for reading instruction
in schools and in radio and television commercials for pro-
grams that purport to teach reading — “There are only
forty-seven sounds in the English language. Learn these
sounds and you can read anything.”
A generic skill is one that, once learned, can be applied in any
situation. For example, if I learn the generic skill of hammering
a nail, it follows that I can then hammer any nail. If I learn how
to ride a bicycle, I can then ride any bicycle. The same reasoning
applied to reading says that, once I learn how to read, I can then
read anything. This view assumes that if students can read
words, they can read sentences; if they can read sentences, they
can read stories; and if they can read stories, they then have
what it takes to read social studies texts, science texts, and other
informational materials.

21
 We now know, however, that reading is not a generic skill.
Even adults who are able to read novels, poetry, and informa-
tional material proficiently often have trouble with insurance
policies, tax forms, directions for putting together swing sets,
computer manuals, and informational material on unfamiliar
topics.
Actually, there are no truly generic skills. Just because I can
ride a standard bicycle doesn’t mean that I can ride a ten-speed
racing bike. Similarly, different nails are used in different mate-
rials for different purposes, and they are not all hammered the
same way. We learn things not in isolation, but in a context. We
learn how to hammer a particular kind of nail into a particular
material using a particular hammer.
If the situation changes — if the nail, material, or hammer is
different — then what I have already learned may actually be a
hindrance. Consider someone who has learned to hit a large,
long nail very hard to drive it deep into wooden beams. Now he
has a short, slim nail that he wants to drive into a plaster wall to
hang a picture. If he applies his learned nail-driving skill in this
situation, he may hit the nail too hard and crack the plaster,
bend the nail, hit his thumb, or even if all else goes well, drive
the nail too far into the wall.
Nothing we learn can be transferred directly to all situations.
We do, however, use what we already know to deal with new
situations. When we must hammer a new kind of nail, we use
what we already know from past experiences with nails, plas-
ter, and picture hanging and put it all together to hypothesize
what to do. We draw on all our relevant past experiences to deal
with new situations. If the new experience is very similar to our
past experiences, our behavior may be very similar to past be-
havior. But if the new experience is dissimilar, our previous ex-
periences may not be helpful at all.
What does this mean for reading? Like everything else, read-
ing is learned in a context. We learn how to read particular texts
and, depending on the text encountered and the instruction we
receive, develop strategies for achieving understanding.
When the context changes — when we are faced with differ-
ent material to read or different purposes for reading — we use
what we have learned from previous reading experiences, al-
though these things may not work in the new situation. Strat-
egies developed for hitting one kind of nail don’t work with all

22
nails, and strategies learned for reading one kind of text don’t
necessarily work with all texts.

What Factors Affect Reading?

Reading always takes place within a context and is specific to
the context that surrounds the act of reading. Three factors —
the text, the reader, and the context of the reading situation —
influence reading. Though each will be discussed separately,
they are not, in fact, entirely separate. Rather, they overlap and
interact to affect the reading process.

THE TEXT

The vocabulary, sentence structure, and organizational pat-

terns of reading materials vary. Though fictional narratives dif-
fer from poems and infotexts, there are also differences within
the types. Just as all stories are not alike, not all infotexts are the
same. A history text and a science text are as different as a his-
tory text and a story. Dorothy Grant Hennings writes that each
discipline has its own “essential ideas or ways of knowing”;
that is, each subject area organizes the relevant information in a
different way. Understanding sequence in a narrative, for ex-
ample, is different from understanding the historical sequence
in a social studies textbook and the sequence of a science exper-
iment. The structures of each discipline are reflected in the or-
ganization of the texts of the subject area and require different
types of reading. If these structures are unfamiliar to readers,
they can cause difficulty.
Additionally, the readability of texts also varies. Some texts
are well written and offer support for the reader. They use fa-
miliar sentence structures, are well organized, provide links
between ideas, and define terms clearly. Other texts are not as
well written and may be disorganized, contain sentences that
are too simple or too complex, and fail to define terminology or
link major concepts. Texts such as these are not “reader-
friendly,” making comprehension difficult.

THE READER

The reader also affects the reading process. A reader’s physical

and emotional state affects how she approaches reading experi-

23
ences. Is she tired? Hungry? Happy? Stressed? Any one of these
factors can — and will — make a difference in how readers ap-
proach texts.
The reader doesn’t operate in isolation but interacts with the
reading material and the situation in which the reading occurs.
A student whose parents are divorcing might be upset and un-
able to concentrate on reading a science text. On the other hand,
the same student may eagerly read a story about a child of
divorced parents or informational material about coping with
divorce.
The prior knowledge of the reader is also important. A
reader’s familiarity with both the topic and the format of the
text substantially influences his ability to understand. If the
topic is very familiar, then he may have some difficulty but will
probably be able to work through problems. A child who
knows about space exploration can often read new material
about space missions even if the format isn’t completely famil-
iar.
If both the topic and format are unfamiliar, however, the
reader is likely to have difficulty comprehending. This is why
so many of us have trouble with, for example, income tax
forms. We know little about the topic because we aren’t famil-
iar with the rules and regulations regarding taxes. In addition,
we rarely read material that is structured like the tax forms and
directions. Because both the topic and format are unfamiliar,
we have trouble with this reading. Tax accountants, on the
other hand, know the rules and regulations governing income
taxes and, having read thousands of these forms and direc-
tions, are very familiar with their structure. Their familiarity
with both the topic and format makes income tax forms very
readable for them.

THE CONTEXT OF THE READING SITUATION

The context of the reading situation includes where the mate-

rial is found, the physical location of the reader when reading,
constraints imposed upon the reading, and the purpose for
reading. For example, the same material found in a textbook, a
newspaper, an advertisement, and a novel will not be read the
same way. In Toward a Speech Act Theory of Discourse, Mary
Louise Pratt says that readers have different expectations of vari-

24
ous types of material and these expectations influence the read-
ing process. For example, readers expect newspapers to be easy
to read as well as biased. They expect novels to focus on human
events in chronological order and to be enjoyable. They expect
textbooks to contain lists of facts, to have a logical organization,
and to be boring and hard to read. Because of these expecta-
tions, readers approach various kinds of material differently.
The reader’s physical location also makes a difference.
Jerome Harste and Robert Carey found that college students
were more likely to identify the topic of an ambiguous text as
wrestling when they were seated on a mat in a gym than when
the same passage was read in an English class. The physical lo-
cation itself appears to predispose our brains to make connec-
tions with certain past experiences. When in a gym, we activate
experiences related to gyms in case they might be needed. The
experiences activated might relate to the content, as in the case
of the wrestling passage, or to the act of reading itself. Thus, a
student who has experienced repeated failure in reading may
begin a reading assignment in your class with a negative,
self-defeating attitude. Why try, I’ll only fail. I can’t read, she
may say to herself.
Aspects of the physical location affecting comfort also influ-
ence the reading process. Am I in a comfortable cozy chair or
seated in a hard chair with my book on a desk? Is the room too
cold or too warm? How much noise surrounds me?
The context can also constrain processing. In schools, teach-
ers often impose constraints on processing by setting reading-
related tasks. Requiring readers to answer questions at the end
of a chapter, fill in worksheets, find definitions, and make an
outline focus attention on particular aspects of the text and sug-
gest particular ways of reading. Students who are asked to fill
in worksheets often avoid reading the entire text but skim to
find the appropriate information. One student who received an
A for her work in history confided that she had completed an
assignment to outline a chapter by copying from the textbook
the title, major headings and subheadings, and the first sen-
tence of each paragraph. This was the extent of her reading.
The purpose for reading also forms part of the context of a
situation. Louise Rosenblatt indicates that stories are typically
read for enjoyment, to experience a lived-through event, under-
stand human characters and emotions, and recognize and ap-

25
preciate the author’s craft. Informational material, on the other
hand, is usually read to garner important information about a
topic.
These different purposes — reading for information and
reading for pleasure — require different approaches to the act
of reading. Rosenblatt makes it clear that the approach readers
take is defined not by the nature of the text but by the purpose
for reading. Any text can be read in any way. Stories can be read
for information and informational material can be read for
pleasure. As a result, the purposes inherent in the tasks we im-
pose on students in our classrooms predispose them to read
texts in particular ways.
The purposes we set are often too narrow, focusing students’
attention on a single aspect of a text while ignoring other im-
portant information. For example, if students are told to read to
find out how plants with woody stems differ from those with
green stems, they may do so — all the while failing to identify
how these plants are alike.
When assignments narrow the focus of reading, they may
fail to help students understand the material and how to vary
their reading for different purposes. To learn effectively, stu-
dents must understand how to read the material in a particular
subject area, as well as how the process varies with changes in
material, purpose, and context, and how they themselves affect
the process. To help them do this, teachers must know some-
thing about the reading process.

How Do We Read?
Reading is a process of constructing meaning in which the
reader is an active participant. Meaning doesn’t flow automati-
cally from the text to the reader; rather, the text contains clues
that the reader uses to generate meaning.
To understand how this works, consider how we learn lan-
guage. All our knowledge about language is based on our expe-
riences. We develop concepts of “cat,” “dog,” “house,” and ev-
erything else from our encounters with objects, people, and
events. Similarly, we develop our rules for behavior, including
our rules for language, based on our experiences.
Our rules for behavior tell us how to dress for particular oc-
casions — we don’t usually wear evening gowns to the grocery

26
store, for example — and our rules for language tell us the top-
ics and language forms appropriate to given situations. Simi-
larity in our experiences leads to similarity in our rule systems,
and differences in our experiences lead to variations in our
rules. For example, my rules for language may be similar to
yours, but they will not be identical. My daughter’s rules for
language allow her to produce sentences like, “I’m fixin’ to go
to the store,” while yours may lead you to produce, “I be goin’
to the store,” or “I say, I think I’ll go to the store.”
These differences mean that the rules an author uses to gen-
erate a text may not be the same as the rules a reader uses to gen-
erate meaning from the text. Because of differences in people’s
language rules, meaning is never inherent in the words on the
page. When authors compose, they embed in their texts many
clues to their meaning. Text organization, vocabulary, and sen-
tence structure provide clues, but it is the reader who gives
meaning to the clues. Kenneth Goodman describes reading as a
process of predicting, gathering data, and confirming or
disconfirming predictions. When encountering a text, readers
use prior knowledge to predict what the text will include. Pre-
dictions are made at many levels and can include predictions
about the topic to be discussed, text organization, sentence
structure, and vocabulary. Even the next word or letter can be
predicted. Then the reader samples the text, gathering informa-
tion that can be used to confirm or disconfirm predictions.
Don Holdaway agrees with Goodman’s description of the
reading process. He emphasized that the movement from sur-
face language to meaning is personal and open to misinterpre-
tation.
Listeners and readers do not have the meanings poured into
them — they are not conducted to them directly through the
sounds in the air or from the marks on the paper; they make
them from what is linguistically given in relationship to all that
constitutes their own self-awareness. Thus, the interpretation of
language is a creative process even when the most basic skills
are being practiced.

The key to the entire process is that the reader is actively

constructing meaning within the framework of a particular
situational context. Of further importance is the role of prior
knowledge in this process — as the source of predictions, as

27
the basis for all reading behavior, and as the source of connec-
tions between new information and what is already known.
Prior knowledge is important in so many ways that it needs
additional discussion.

HOW DOES PRIOR KNOWLEDGE AFFECT READING?

When we encounter new objects, we use everything we’ve

learned from our previous experiences to understand the new
thing. We relate it to other similar-looking objects that might be
found in a similar location or used for a similar task.
The same is true of reading. We use our past experiences
with texts, language, and people to generate meaning from
texts.
When I had difficulty with my son’s science-fiction stories,
for example, it was because I lacked previous experiences with
this genre. I was unfamiliar with the way science fiction is orga-
nized, its vocabulary and unusual names. Most of all, however,
it was the concepts or ideas that were strange to me. These sto-
ries included dreams that were reality and beings who commu-
nicated telepathically, entered the dreams of others, and were
capable of assuming spirit, human, or other concrete forms.
They included worlds where things were very different from
the world I knew — worlds where things were not what they
seemed. The rules of human interaction and living that I had
garnered from many years of experience simply did not apply
to the worlds I encountered in these books.
This indicates the importance of prior knowledge in under-
standing any text. Readers need not know everything about a
topic in order to understand, but they must have some knowl-
edge that they can use. Students about to study photosynthesis
might not know a great deal about it, but they probably know
that plants need food and sunlight to grow and that leaves turn
color in the fall. The less prior knowledge readers have about a
new topic, the more difficult the reading will be.
It is not enough, however, to possess the knowledge; readers
must also be able to draw on it. This is not simply a matter of re-
membering information. We often fail to use knowledge we
possess because we don’t view it as relevant.
One of my favorite cartoons depicts a bird perched on top of
a hippopotamus that is standing on the edge of a cliff. A nearby

28
sign says, Lovers’ Leap. In the caption, the hippo is saying,
“Wait just a darn minute; I just thought of something!” When I
show this cartoon to people, at least half of them don’t get the
joke.
Several pieces of information are necessary to understand
the cartoon. First, you must know what a lovers’ leap is and that
despondent lovers jump off lovers’ leaps together. Then, you
must infer that the bird and the hippo are lovers about to jump.
Then, you must draw on your knowledge of birds and hippos
— birds fly, hippos don’t — to understand that if they jump,
one of them will fly, but the other won’t, a realization that was
apparently just dawning on the hippo.
Most people to whom I’ve shown this cartoon possessed all
the necessary information but didn’t activate it. Given the car-
toon, it is difficult to know what information is relevant. We
don’t often think about flying in relation to hippos. Thus, even
proficient readers may not use the prior knowledge needed for
understanding.
Fortunately, however, our prior knowledge is organized so
that we can draw on it. Some people visualize this organization
as a hierarchical filing system with items placed in files under
major topics and subtopics. For example, information about
birds might be in a file labeled Information about Animals, and
this file might be located in a larger file labeled Information
about Living Things. To gain access to the information, we sim-
ply go to the right file in the right drawer in the right filing cabi-
net.
Though this view is useful to a point, it fails to explain the
connections readers make while reading. When reading a story
about the death of a husband, what brings to mind the death of
a grandfather or an uncle or a son’s recent auto accident? What
causes me to substitute the word “luggage” for “language”
when reading a book about children’s language development
while waiting for a plane in an airport? What brings to mind the
sounds, smells, and feelings related to other events when read-
ing a novel? If prior knowledge is fragmented into compart-
ments, how can one word or sentence evoke such a multitude of
responses?
The answer is that prior knowledge is not stored in tidy com-
partments; rather, it is organized in a complex, multi-dimen-
sional arrangement of concepts. Because these concepts are in-

29
terconnected, finding one item leads us to think about many
other items related to the first. When sitting in an airport, for ex-
ample, I activate, or bring to a conscious level, all my prior
knowledge about airports, including luggage, tickets, air-
planes, my feelings about flying, my dislike of airplane food,
memories of other flying experiences, and experiences related
to flying, like a movie I’ve seen, an article or story I’ve read, a
cartoon about airline food, a friend who is a pilot, and so on. All
these items are related not only to airports but also to other
things like movies, mysteries, fears, friends, food, and cartoons.
New information can be placed anywhere in the system.
When this happens, it becomes part of a network that links it to
other related items. It’s the connections between the new infor-
mation and the items already stored in prior knowledge that
are vital. New information is connected to every item for which
the reader can generate a connection.
It was my personal schema for airports or airplane trips that
caused me to misread the word “language.” My schema for air-
plane trips includes the items commonly associated with these
trips, as well as various related actions — buying a ticket, get-
ting to the airport, checking in, boarding the plane, and so on.
We develop schemata for things and events in our world, in-
cluding baseball games, school, parties, novels, studying, sto-
ries, poems, cartoons, and informational material. These sche-
mata are generated from our experiences. Experiences
attending school lead to the development of our school schema,
experiences reading stories develop our schema for stories, and
experiences with informational material develop our schema
for expository texts.
If memory is stored in a multi-dimensional network, what
happens when we draw on prior knowledge for possible use? If
we don’t take out a file folder, then what do we do?
Iran Nejad-Asghar proposes a “light constellation” analogy
to explain how memory works. He suggests that our cognitive
network is like a bank of lights wired so that certain subsets of
lights can be illuminated. For instance, all the blue lights could
be lit or all the red ones, or a combination of blues and reds.
Each subset of lights represents a schema. When a schema is ac-
tivated, then that set of lights turns on. Of course, we are capa-
ble of illuminating more than one set of lights at any particular
time. So, for example, when looking at the cartoon of the bird

30
and the hippo, I can activate my schemata for both birds and
hippos as well as my schema for cartoons.
But if this is the case, why didn’t my schema for hippos acti-
vate the knowledge, “cannot fly”? The activation process prob-
ably operates more like a dimmer than an on-off switch; that is,
some items in the schema may shine more brightly than others.
In the case of the cartoon, “cannot fly” is not brightly lit. On oc-
casion, entire schemata may be more brightly lit than others.
When we read, appropriate schemata are activated. We link
incoming information to information we already possess. First,
we try to make these links to activated schemata. If no connec-
tion is possible, then other schemata may be searched and acti-
vated for likely connections. Because new “items” entered into
the prior knowledge network include not only information but
also relationships, the “new information” may simply involve
creating new links among existing items. For example, the
bird-hippo cartoon might cause me to connect birds and hippos
in a new way. In this way, adding items to our store of prior
knowledge can restructure the network.
Finally, we know that readers make inferences by generating
new information based on information in the text. For example,
if a story states that a mother is frowning and yelling at a child,
the reader is likely to infer that the mother is angry. The reader
has connected the stated information with previous informa-
tion about mother-child relationships and generated new in-
formation or a new item in prior knowledge. As new items are
added and new connections generated, the shape of prior
knowledge changes constantly. The items remain, but the pat-
terns shift, much like the patterns of a kaleidoscope.
Comprehension, then, depends on activating prior knowl-
edge and developing links between new information and what
is already known. In Comprehension and Learning, Frank Smith
defines comprehension as “relating new experiences to the al-
ready known.” Because prior knowledge is built from previous
experiences, each individual’s network is different. Therefore,
teachers must help students activate their own prior knowl-
edge and provide opportunities for them to relate new infor-
mation to what is already known.

31
What Do Good Readers Do?
If we view reading as an active process, we can identify things
proficient readers do when encountering texts. Proficient read-
ers activate prior knowledge and connect new items to items in
their store of prior knowledge. In addition, because they use
prior knowledge to generate meaning from texts, they monitor
their own understanding, focusing on meaning and checking
themselves to see whether they are understanding.
When they don’t understand, they use a variety of strategies
to achieve comprehension. For example, because I was moni-
toring my own reading, I stopped when I read “luggage” for
“language” in the airport. The word “luggage” didn’t make
sense. My strategy was to reread that portion of the text.
Monitoring our understanding also keeps the reading pro-
cess going when the meaning is not changed, even though a
reader may have substituted one word for another. The substi-
tution of the word “house” for “home” in the sentence, “My
home is in the city,” would not cause a proficient reader to stop
reading because the substitution doesn’t affect the meaning.
However, making the same substitution in the sentence, “I
want to go home,” would stop a reader who is monitoring for
meaning.
Proficient readers use a variety of strategies to resolve a lack
of understanding. They may go back and reread, as I did, or
continue reading to gather additional information. They may
use their knowledge of sound-symbol relationships to sound
out a problematic word or check for meaning with an outside
source such as a dictionary, encyclopedia, teacher, parent, or
friend. If entire texts are giving them difficulty, they may read
alternative texts or seek help from an expert or friend.

What Do We Know about Learning That Can Help Us?

Teaching in general and reading instruction in particular have
been strongly criticized in recent years. Critics say that schools
aren’t teaching students to think and that, in fact, instructional
methods actually prevent students from engaging in critical
thinking.
In 1978, Don Dansereau suggested that “teaching and testing
methods implicitly encourage rote memorization by specifying

32
exactly what must be learned, rewarding verbatim answers on
tests and putting little emphasis on the development of rela-
tionships between incoming and stored information.” Twelve
years later, in 1990, Sharon Pugh Smith, Robert Carey, and
Jerome Harste indicated that students were still not doing well
and may have become “so dependent on teacher organization
of meaning that they may have difficulty learning to learn for
themselves after high school.” And twelve years after this, Mi-
chael Graves suggested in an article in Reading Online that
“schooling is not going well even for our best students — all too
few students attain the deep level of understanding critical in
today’s world.” These are only a few of the critiques that main-
tain that teachers have done little to change the emphasis on
learning isolated facts through memorization and engaging in
isolated exercises.
We limit students’ learning and take responsibility for their
learning in many ways.

— By giving students graphic organizers that show them

the important information and the organizational struc-
ture of the text.
— By giving them worksheets that identify important infor-
mation and then going over the worksheets in class to
make sure that everyone has the same right answer.
— By lecturing on the material in the text to make sure that
everyone understands it.
— By reviewing material that will be on tests.
— By giving tests that focus on reiterating specific informa-
tion.

We often do these things for very good reasons: we want stu-

dents to learn the specific information we are teaching. We
must also recognize, however, that these activities, and others
like them, don’t help students learn or think, nor do they help
students become learners. True learning takes place when new
information is integrated into prior knowledge by linking it to
known information. Connections and relationships with other
concepts in our cognitive system must be developed, and only
the learner can develop these connections. Typical instruc-
tional activities, like those listed previously, don’t help stu-
dents make connections between the new and their own prior

33
knowledge. Students memorize instead of learn, and when the
test is over, they promptly forget the new information.
Isabel Beck, Margaret McKeown, and Jo Worthy published a
study that demonstrated this. To test whether differences in the
way a text is written affect students’ understanding, they se-
lected a section from a real textbook and created three addi-
tional versions that they considered to be more readable. Four
groups of fourth-grade students read one of the four versions,
then answered questions related to the information given and
issues raised. Regardless of which version they read, all the stu-
dents answered most of the informational questions correctly;
there were no differences among them. There were differences,
however, in their ability to answer the issues questions that fo-
cused on major themes of the passage. This demonstrates that
students have learned very well how to identify the informa-
tion that is needed to answer the kinds of questions found on
worksheets and tests, even when they do not understand the
themes of a passage.
As Jerome Bruner noted in Actual Minds, Possible Worlds,
teachers can close down what he called the “process of wonder-
ing” or open it up. In other words, teachers can do much to help
students become active, thoughtful learners. More than twenty
years ago, Rob Tierney and P. David Pearson suggested that
teachers need to
— recognize that reading is interactive and, thus, readers
have a right to interpret texts
— encourage students to tie information to prior knowl-
edge
— give students opportunities to evaluate their interpreta-
tions
Most of us have yet to allow or encourage these activities in
our classrooms. In New Policy Guidelines in Reading: Connecting
Research and Practice, Jerome Harste said that learning a process
requires three things: engaging in the process, being with oth-
ers engaged in the process, and bringing aspects of the process
to a conscious level. This means that, rather than simply memo-
rizing, students must actively engage in learning in an environ-
ment that encourages them to take risks and engage in mean-
ingful activities that reflect real-world activities. They must
also have opportunities to observe and talk to other learners,

34
including the teacher, about what — and how — they are learn-
ing.

EMPOWERMENT AND ACTIVE ENGAGEMENT

Students are often depicted as sponges soaking up information

from textbooks and teachers, then retrieving that information
on demand to answer teachers’ questions orally or in writing
on tests and worksheets. In this scenario, the teacher’s job is to
provide the information that soaks into the sponges. This anal-
ogy suggests that students are passive recipients of whatever is
presented to them and that teaching is simply a matter of pre-
senting information.
But if we extend the analogy, we’re likely to come across
some things that we haven’t considered about sponges. For ex-
ample, they won’t soak up powders, such as sugar and flour;
solids, such as a block of cheese or a slice of bread; or semi-liquids,
such as jams and jellies. Sponges reject material that doesn’t
suit them. If students are like sponges, they too may reject ma-
terial that doesn’t suit them. Our task as teachers, then, would
involve identifying materials students will accept, while ignor-
ing everything else.
Further, if sponges are left unattended, the fluids they have
soaked up evaporate, and they dry out. Continuing the anal-
ogy, then, we would expect information that we have poured
into students to evaporate and disappear. Yet teachers don’t ex-
pect students to forget everything they’ve been taught. If this
were so, schools would be useless.
In fact, students are not like sponges. They are active learn-
ers, even when they seem most passive. In Comprehension and
Learning, Frank Smith said that students are always learning;
they just may not be learning what we expect them to learn.
Learning is not a matter of taking in new information and add-
ing it to our current store of knowledge. For new information to
be added to our cognitive network, it must be linked to what is
already there. This generates a rearrangement of the cognitive
network to accommodate the new. Thus, learning involves
changing or elaborating on what is already known.
The only person who can attach the new to what is already
known or who can change the current arrangement of informa-

35
tion is the learner. Teachers can do things to help the learner
with this task, but we cannot do it for the learner.
Learners will not engage in the task of cognitive restructur-
ing unless they are in a situation that encourages them to do so.
If their only task is to reiterate information presented by the
teacher, they will make little or no attempt to incorporate the
information into their store of knowledge. If the teacher does
all the thinking for students, there is no need for them to think
for themselves. To maintain active learning, we must empower
students — help them take charge of their own learning.
This doesn’t mean that we should never do things that help
students understand text material. Infotexts often do a poor job
of presenting complex concepts, and there is much that teach-
ers can do that does not entail assuming the responsibility for
learning. Films that help students understand historical set-
tings and events, demonstrations and activities that expand
ideas and explain concepts, and lectures that provide addi-
tional information or explanation are all helpful. The key is that
these activities encourage students to maintain control of their
own learning.
In addition, we must also do things to help students learn
how to take charge of their learning. Students have often be-
come so used to teachers doing everything for them that they
don’t know how to do things for themselves. The grade the
teacher puts on their worksheet tells them whether they have
understood the chapter. Without the grade, they don’t know
how to tell whether they’ve understood. Further, they often
don’t know how to monitor their own learning or what to do
when they don’t understand. We must engage students in ac-
tivities that help them both take charge of and monitor their
learning.
Donald Graves and Lucy Calkins have pointed out the im-
portance of ownership in learning to write, and Jeanne Harms
and Lucille Lettow point out the importance of ownership in
learning to read. But ownership — being in charge of our own
learning process — is important in all aspects of learning.
Ownership, or empowerment, involves making choices, and
teachers are often wary of this. Perhaps we are concerned that if
students are allowed choice, they may choose not to learn or
they may choose not to learn what we want them to learn. For

36
some, providing choices implies that there will be chaos in the
classroom.
Providing choices, however, doesn’t mean that teachers
must relinquish their role. It simply means giving students op-
tions within a larger framework. For example, students may
have no choice about whether they will study ancient Greece.
During the unit, however, they may be encouraged to choose
both to study a specific aspect of ancient Greece and the other
students they will work with. Though all the groups may be ex-
pected to present what they’ve learned to the class, they may
choose the format of their presentation. Thus, providing
choices doesn’t place students in charge of the class; rather, it
means that teachers and students work together to learn and,
during that process, determine curriculum.
When students are in control of their own learning, they are
more likely to become actively involved in learning. They ac-
tively determine the importance of various items of informa-
tion, the relationships between new information and their own
lives, and how the information can be used.

PROVIDING A LOW-RISK ENVIRONMENT

For students to take advantage of choice, they must be in a

low-risk environment; that is, they must be in a situation where
they are not penalized for the choices they make or the chances
they take with learning. If, for example, they are penalized for
making mistakes when they are first learning to read or write,
they are likely to become very cautious about reading and writ-
ing.
Students need to be in low-risk situations for all learning. We
need to recognize that making mistakes is a natural part of
learning and encourage students to explore new ideas and top-
ics without fear of being penalized for their explorations.
Instructional strategies that escalate risk can take many
forms but are most often found in activities, worksheets, and
tests that focus on a single right answer that will be marked.
When grades are being given, students are very careful about
what they produce. If high grades depend upon producing cer-
tain information or demonstrating competence with certain
skills, then students will comply. And if the teacher is responsi-

37
ble for handing out the grades, students will change their be-
havior in the presence of the teacher.
Douglas Barnes saw this in his observations of classrooms.
Students working in small groups who had been engaged in
“exploratory” talk shifted to “performance” language when
the teacher joined the group. They moved from talking about
possible explanations and evaluating those possibilities to
demonstrating for the teacher what they knew. When the
teacher was not part of the group, students talked to one an-
other, but when the teacher joined the group, everyone talked
to the teacher.
We can probably never create a no-risk situation, but we can
reduce the risk level by encouraging students to explore, valu-
ing them and the work they produce, accepting mistakes as a
natural part of learning, and learning with them.

THE IMPORTANCE OF MEANINGFUL ACTIVITIES

In an investigation of social studies classrooms, Fred Smith and

I found that classroom reading activities bore little resem-
blance to reading in the real world. In the real world, people
read for real purposes and choose materials that meet their
needs. Once gained, information is evaluated and compared
with other information, then used in some way. In the schools
studied, students read because they were told to. They had no
choice in the material read, and they used the information only
to answer questions on worksheets and tests. In addition, the
material covered rarely related to their lives outside school.
These students were not engaged in meaningful activities, nor
did the activities or materials reflect the world outside school.
Meaningful activities are similar to those students would be
engaged in if they weren’t in school. They involve the students
in the kinds of thinking, writing, reading, and discussing that
go on in the real world. They also encourage learners to make
choices and place them in charge of their own learning.

THE IMPORTANCE OF COLLABORATION

“Talking enables us to rearrange the problem so that we can

look at it differently,” Douglas Barnes wrote in his discussion
of the advantages of group talk. He is not alone in this view. In
Thought and Language, Lev Vygotsky said that language is the

38
vehicle for thinking, and in Actual Minds, Possible Worlds,
Jerome Bruner expressed his belief that growth occurs through
recording information in new forms.
Listening to others’ views of something we have all read in-
creases our understanding of a text because we come to view it
from many perspectives. Working with others to solve prob-
lems or explore ideas produces talk that allows everyone in-
volved to expand their thinking.
Collaboration — students working together to decide what
and how to study, investigate topics, discuss information and
ideas, and plan how to share information with others — is in-
valuable. In contrast to cooperative activities — in which all
students complete one part of a task often assigned by the
teacher — collaboration involves students in working together.
Though the general task, such as studying a European country
or determining what happened and why during a science ex-
periment, may be assigned by the teacher, the teacher doesn’t
assign specific tasks to particular students.
Collaboration provides students with access to others’
thoughts on and interpretations of material and questions. Be-
cause this approach encourages students to check their own
understanding against that of others, they can both monitor
and expand their understanding. Though a teacher’s questions
often identify for students items the teacher considers impor-
tant, this is not as effective as encouraging students to compare
their own understanding with that of other students. During a
discussion, they have an opportunity to express and explain
their own understanding and question others about theirs.
When only the teacher asks the questions, the answers ex-
pected are often either right or wrong, and there is little oppor-
tunity for students to question what is presented.
Collaboration also helps establish a low-risk situation. When
a single student works on a task or answers a question, he or she
alone is totally responsible for the work. This increases the risk
involved. In a collaborative situation, however, students share
responsibility. There is no attempt to identify who is right or
wrong. They simply discuss the material read to reach agree-
ment about what it means or work on a task together, sharing
responsibility for the product.

39
Summary
If students are to learn the content we want them to learn, we
must help them become actively engaged in their own learning.
In so doing, we can also help them understand the reading pro-
cess and become effective readers, thinkers, and learners.
The remainder of this book outlines strategies to help ensure
that students learn through reading as well as about reading.

40
. . . . . . . . . . . . . .

E VA L U AT I N G S T U D E N T S

AND TEXTS

O nly when we know the strengths and weaknesses

of the texts we plan to use and the students’ ability to deal with
these texts can we plan instruction to help students cope with
the material. This chapter will look at methods of evaluating
students’ reading of their content texts and determining the
strengths and weaknesses of the texts we use.

Differences between Narrative and Expository Texts

For many years, two assumptions have influenced instruc-
tional methods and materials.
— Stories are easier to read than informational material.
— Children can read and understand stories at a young age
but can read and understand informational material only
much later.
These assumptions pervade the work of developmental theo-
rists such as James Britton, Tony Burgess, Nancy Martin, Alex
McLeod, Harold Rosen, and James Moffett. Research studies,
such as those of Suzanne Hidi and Angela Hildyard, as well as
Judith Langer, reinforce these ideas by suggesting that older
students have more difficulty reading non-fiction than fiction.
Overall, there has been strong support for the belief that chil-
dren cannot cope with the logical organization, complex sen-
tence structures, and abstract concepts associated with infor-
mational texts.

41
 Because fiction is considered easier to read, basal readers
have traditionally included stories and an occasional poem. Al-
though this has begun to change in recent years so that there is
now greater variety in these readers, stories continue to pre-
dominate. Many infotexts, especially those designed for young
readers, are written in a narrative style in the belief that this will
make them more like fiction, improving their readability. For
example, a family — usually a father, mother, boy and girl —
takes a trip somewhere, like France, and information about
France is integrated into the story of the family’s travels. Or a
“story” may be told about a whale, or other animal, from birth
to adulthood.
All this has led to a focus on fiction in elementary schools,
where children have many experiences with both reading and
writing stories. By the time they enter third or fourth grade,
they are familiar with the structures, coherence patterns, vo-
cabulary, topics, and other features of narrative texts.
At the same time, because they have read — and been ex-
pected to write — little in the way of informational material,
they are often unfamiliar with the structures, patterns, vocabu-
lary, and other features of this kind of text. It is this unfamiliar-
ity, rather than any inherent developmental shortcoming in the
reader, that makes informational material difficult.
Whether it is fiction or non-fiction designed to read like fic-
tion, text written in a narrative style is different from exposi-
tory writing. Len Unsworth suggested that narratives are actu-
ally easier to understand because they include many of the
features of oral language. The number of content words (mean-
ing words) in narratives is lower than in expository texts, and
the number of function words (words that link content words)
is higher. People who have read Infotext often say that it is easy
to read because it “is just as if you are talking to me.” In other
words, it has the same features as oral language, and this makes
it easy to read. In an article in Journal of Reading, Carolyn Kent
pointed out some of the important differences between narra-
tive and expository materials.
First, narratives have a first- or third-person point of view;
that is, the story is told by one of the characters or an outside
narrator. The reader determines who is telling the story and de-
velops expectations based on this point of view. The point of
view of writers of expository material is less easily identified.

42
 Second, narratives are agent-oriented in that they focus on
one or more characters. This focus is familiar because our lives
involve relationships and interactions with others. Narrative-
style texts are familiar because they build on these. Expository
texts, on the other hand, focus on topics or subject matter. Ex-
cept in school situations, our conversations focus on these far
less frequently. For this reason, students are far less familiar
with discussions, both oral and written, that involve the trans-
mission of information.
Finally, the events of stories occur in a time frame and are
linked chronologically. Expository material, on the other hand,
has no temporal focus — time is not important because the in-
formation is considered timeless. Information is connected us-
ing techniques such as making comparisons, supporting main
ideas with details, and citing examples to illustrate concepts.
Now that the Internet is a widely used resource, the differ-
ences between narrative and expository tests are even more
complicated. The structures of Internet texts, whether narra-
tive or expository, do not often resemble typical narrative and
expository structures. Internet texts contain links that may take
readers to additional information, definitions, references,
video clips, and so on. From these secondary links, readers can
often go on to other links until they are far from the original
passage. In addition, the first page of an Internet text often pro-
vides an outline that allows readers to choose which portion of
the text to read, a feature that means that the text can be read in
any order. These options provide many alternatives for read-
ers, but they can also cause confusion and interfere with the
comprehension of those not used to dealing with this kind of
structure.
Though the differences between narrative and expository
texts are important, they do not make expository texts inher-
ently more difficult. We can help students understand the dif-
ferences by exposing them to informational material in many
forms and providing activities and discussions that help them
become aware of these differences.
Given these differences, we cannot assume that students can
read instructional texts merely because they are in a particular
grade or because they can read narratives proficiently. It is im-
portant to determine how readable the texts are and whether
students can deal with them.

43
Evaluating Texts Using Readability Formulas

Readability formulas are commonly used to determine the

reading level of texts. The assumption is that if a readability for-
mula is used to determine the reading level of a text and if a
reading test is used to determine the reading level of a student,
student and text can be appropriately matched. For instance, a
student reading at a Grade 4 level can be placed in a text that
has a fourth-grade readability rating.
There are two problems with this. First, reading tests are not
necessarily an accurate gauge of students’ reading ability and,
even if they were, these tests don’t indicate how well a student
will be able to read a specific text that may have features differ-
ent from the passages on the reading test.
Second, readability formulas, by and large, evaluate only
two aspects of texts: vocabulary and syntactic complexity. Vo-
cabulary difficulty is typically measured on the assumption
that long words are harder to understand than short. The more
syllables in a word, the more difficult it is considered. This ap-
proach does not take into account readers’ previous experi-
ence. Words like “mitosis,” “cognitive,” and “decadence” may
be more difficult for young children to read and understand
than “dog,” “cat,” and “ran,” but these same children can un-
derstand many long words such as “dinosaur,” “hamburger,”
“reptile,” and “computer” because they are part of their experi-
ence. At the same time, many short words like “id,” “quark,”
and “ego” present problems even for proficient readers. As-
sessing words on the basis of their length or, in some cases,
whether they appear on basic word lists doesn’t take into ac-
count the potential prior knowledge of the reader.
Syntactic complexity is also commonly measured on the as-
sumption that long sentences are more difficult to read than
short ones. We’ve all encountered sentences that are so long
that we have difficulty figuring out the point. Our difficulty
probably stems from the fact that we are unfamiliar with
over-long sentences because they occur so rarely.
Short sentences, too, can pose problems for readers because
they chop up meaning and fail to provide essential clues about
relationships among ideas. Consider the following sentences,
for example: “The cotton gin was invented. More slaves were
needed to pick cotton. The cotton gin could gin more cotton

44
than people could.” In the absence of clues about the relation-
ship between the invention of the cotton gin and the need for
more slaves, readers are left to infer these connections. A profi-
cient, thoughtful reader might question why having a cotton
gin that could gin a lot of cotton would increase the demand for
slaves. Less proficient readers or those focused on memorizing
facts, however, might not even search for a connection among
these ideas.
In an essay in Theoretical Models and Processes of Reading, P.
David Pearson reported the results of his study of young chil-
dren’s ability to read syntactically complex sentences. He
found that children read and recalled longer, complex sen-
tences better than short, simple ones. The additional informa-
tion in the more complex sentences provided clues that enabled
readers to comprehend and recall. As Jerome Harste, Virginia
Woodward, and Carolyn Burke suggest in their book Language
Stories and Literacy Lessons, simplicity deprives language users
of support for understanding, while complexity supports un-
derstanding.
Though teachers may find readability formulas useful for
obtaining a general idea of the suitability of a text for a particu-
lar grade level , those who know their students can usually de-
termine a book’s suitability by simply reading portions of the
text. Other methods of evaluating texts are often more useful
than using readability formulas.

Evaluating Texts for Instructional Planning

Within texts, the readability of individual chapters and, in-
deed, specific passages within those chapters may vary greatly.
Rather than rely on formulas, it is more useful to consider spe-
cific factors that make a particular text more or less readable for
students. We need to examine the specific material we are re-
quiring students to read to identify strengths that can be used
to advantage and weaknesses that may cause difficulties. Then
we can plan instruction, provide material, and create situations
to compensate for textual shortcomings. As we do this, it is im-
portant to keep specific students in mind and read the text from
their point of view.

45
INFORMATION

Many factors must be considered when evaluating the informa-

tion in a text. These include concept load, depth, clarity, and
relevance.

Concept Load
Ask yourself how many new concepts are presented and how
quickly. A single ten-page chapter, for instance, may introduce
ten new concepts — one on each page. On the other hand, the
chapter may load five new concepts onto one page, three onto
another, two onto another, and none onto the remaining pages.
Though the total number of new concepts introduced may not
be unreasonable, the density of concepts presented in particu-
lar sections may pose problems.

Depth
Ask whether the chapter discusses each concept in depth or if it
suffers from what Harriet Bernstein identified as “mention-
ing.” Mentioning occurs when texts present many items of in-
formation but discuss few, if any, in depth.
Consider, for example, this brief text: “Spiders can be large
or small. Spiders make webs. Spiders catch food in their webs.”
Several facts about spiders are mentioned, but none is dis-
cussed in detail. The same problem often plagues longer texts,
causing misunderstandings by students. One social studies
text, for example, dealt with the underground railroad in two
sentences. The first said the underground railroad was a sys-
tem for transporting slaves to the North and to Canada. The
second said that the system consisted of “stations” where peo-
ple could rest and be fed. The ten- and eleven-year-old students
who read this concluded that the underground railroad was a
subway system.
This problem often results from attempting to cover too
much material in a single text or in a single chapter. In some
textbooks, World War I, ancient Greece, energy, and the human
skeleton are covered in single chapters varying in length from
ten to fifteen pages, including illustrations. The result is that
very little can be covered in depth.

46
Clarity

It is critical to ask whether the relationships among concepts

are made clear or if the reader must infer the connections. The
passage about the cotton gin quoted earlier is an example of a
text that doesn’t clarify the relationships among ideas and so
appears to suffer from “mentioning.”

Relevance

Another consideration is whether the information presented is

relevant. Mentioning items without providing depth can some-
times make relevant information appear irrelevant because its
relationship to other information is not clear. On the other
hand, irrelevant information is sometimes included while in-
formation that ought to be included is omitted. One American
history text detailed the life histories of two people involved in
the American Civil War — Abraham Lincoln and Robert E. Lee
— providing information about their births and childhoods
that had no connection to the topic of the chapter. At the same
time, the text devoted only one sentence each to the president of
the Southern States, Jefferson Davis, and the Northern general,
Ulysses S. Grant.
We must consider whether ideas are presented in a way that
is relevant to students. Information they view as irrelevant will
bore them and will, at best, be memorized for a test, then forgot-
ten. This doesn’t mean that we must eliminate certain topics
from our course of instruction; it does mean that topics need to
be presented in ways that arouse students’ interest and help
them make connections between their own lives and what is
presented in the text. The best texts are written with the in-
tended audience, and the interests of that audience, in mind.

ORGANIZATION

Organization refers to the overall structure of a chapter as

well as the sub-units within it — paragraphs, subsections, and
sections. Is the chapter organized in a recognizable way? Is the
organization obvious and keyed to the headings and subhead-
ings?

47
Overall Organization
First, consider the overall organization of the text. The organi-
zation of the chapter on the American Civil War referred to ear-
lier was flawed because events were not presented in sequence.
The time frame jumped from before the war to during the war
and then back to a discussion of pre-war issues.

Headings and Subheadings

The relationship between headings and subheadings should
also be evaluated. Do they fit logically? A major section of the
chapter on the American Civil War, for example, was headed,
“Problems That Led Up to the War.” The subheadings were,
“Problems with Slavery,” “Problems with Taxes,” and “Three
Black Leaders.” The last has no apparent connection either to
the first two headings or to the main heading. Because headings
and subheadings provide organizational pointers, unrelated
headings can create difficulties for students.

Organization of Subsections
Another factor contributing to the logical structure of a chapter
is the organization of subsections. Do the paragraphs in a sub-
section fit logically, and do the subheadings reflect the relation-
ships among the paragraphs? A chapter about China in a social
studies textbook, for example, included a subsection titled
“Mongolia.” It contained five paragraphs, two on Inner Mon-
golia, two on Outer Mongolia, and one on Tibet. The rationale
for including information about Tibet in the text, while failing
to mention it in the subheading, wasn’t explained. Problems
like this create major difficulties for students who use textual
clues to determine structure and identify important informa-
tion.

Main Ideas
We must also ask ourselves whether main ideas are stated and,
perhaps more important, whether the text is organized around
main ideas. We often assume that paragraphs contain main
ideas when, in fact, they frequently don’t. Jim Baumann and Ju-
dith Serra analyzed the social studies texts of five major pub-
lishers to determine whether main ideas were present. They
found that only 27 percent of the passages contained explicitly

48
stated main ideas. Paragraphs often consist of a collection of
facts that have a general relationship — they may all be about
the Industrial Revolution, for example — but each is about a
different item.

Paragraph and Sentence Organization

We must also examine whether the paragraphs in a subsection
are related and whether the sentences in paragraphs are re-
lated. Individual sentences often seem to stand alone, making
the paragraph seem more like a list of information than a para-
graph. Similarly, the paragraphs in a subsection may seem in-
dependent of other paragraphs. The paragraph on Tibet men-
tioned earlier is an example of this. A list of unrelated
information is more difficult to understand and remember than
information presented in an organized manner. Passages may
appear to be organized in paragraphs when, in fact, the logical
organization of paragraphs is absent. This places readers at a
disadvantage.

Sentence Length and Structure

Finally, we must consider sentences. Are they so long that read-
ers become lost in the wording or so short that they interfere
with the flow of ideas? We might also ask if students are likely
to find the structures familiar or whether there are unusual con-
structions that will be puzzling.

VOCABULARY

When considering vocabulary, it’s important to keep in mind

students’ prior knowledge: what they already know about the
topic. Many texts list new vocabulary at the beginning or end of
chapters, identify it in bold print in the body of the text, or sup-
ply definitions in the margins. Check these words, asking if
they might be unfamiliar to students. Next, ask whether the
definitions and explanations provided are adequate. An expla-
nation that says, “Mechanical energy is a form of kinetic en-
ergy,” does little to enhance students’ understanding of me-
chanical energy. New terms, which are really new concepts, are
often defined in a single sentence. Check to see whether the text
includes additional explanations and whether examples are

49
provided to help students understand the new vocabulary —
and thus the new concepts.
When reading a text, look for words that are not identified as
new vocabulary even though they might be unfamiliar to the
students. The writer may be making invalid assumptions about
students’ prior knowledge, especially given the diversity of
students in our classrooms today. Are there terms that ought to
be defined but aren’t? Is there sufficient context for students to
determine the meaning of these words?

GRAPHICS

Graphics are illustrations, charts, maps, photographs, and any-

thing else that is part of the appearance of written texts. Be-
cause they are important features of infotexts, we must exam-
ine both their usefulness and relevance. Is a particular map
helpful in understanding the text? Does a picture illustrate the
information contained in a math problem? Does a photograph
of a solar house help students understand solar energy? Does a
video clip of a Civil War re-enactment help students under-
stand the Battle of Gettysburg?
Though graphics may be eye-catching, they should also be
helpful. For example, close examination of some colorful and
attractive illustrations in a chapter in a math text revealed that
they were completely unrelated to the material on the page.
In addition, the graphics should be understandable. One his-
tory chapter contained maps that might have been useful if
they hadn’t been so crammed with information that they be-
came confusing and unreadable. A chapter on ratios in a math
book asked students to compare the size of real animals and toy
animals. But the real animals and toy animals shown in the ac-
companying pictures were the same size, suggesting that there
are no differences.
Graphics can enhance understanding by providing informa-
tion that running text cannot, such as photographs of living
conditions, maps of areas, and diagrams of the human body.
They do this, however, only if they are clear, understandable,
and related to the concepts discussed in the text.
The position of graphics also influences their effectiveness.
In print texts, they should, for example, be placed on the same
page as the related print information. Readers should not be re-

50
Other documents randomly have
different content
The Project Gutenberg eBook of La kialo
de la vivo
This ebook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States
and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no
restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it
under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this
ebook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the
United States, you will have to check the laws of the country where
you are located before using this eBook.

Title: La kialo de la vivo

Author: Anonymous

Release date: March 8, 2020 [eBook #61581]

Most recently updated: October 17, 2024

Language: Esperanto

Credits: Produced by Carolus Raeticus

*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK LA KIALO DE LA

VIVO ***
LA KIALO DE LA VIVO

TRADUKITA EL LA FRANCA LINGVO

PARIS
 PRESEJO DE LA PRESA
ESPERANTISTA SOCIETO
1907
 ANTAŬPAROLO DE LA
TRANSSKRIBANTO
Ĉiuj ŝanĝoj de la transskribanto estas
registritaj per piednotoj. ([TR1], [TR2], ktp.)
 La Kialo de la Vivo
En tiu ĉi jarcento de pozitivismo senlima, la
religio tia, kia ĝi estas al ni testamentita de
niaj prapatroj, plu ne taŭgas por niaj deziroj.

La homo instruita, la pensulo, sentas la

vanecon de la dogmoj, kaj li konstatas kun
timego la profundegaĵon fositan de la eltrovoj
de la scienco, profundegaĵo kiu lin forigas por
ĉiam de la sanktaj tekstoj, se li amas iom la
veron. La homo simpla, tiu kiu penadas, tiu
kiu suferadas, pli kaj pli ribelas kontraŭ la
neegalecoj socialaj, kaj li sin deturnas de
religio, kiu donas al li nur malprecizajn
esperojn, necertajn konsolaĵojn, kaj precipe
estontajn punojn kaj eternajn elpagojn.

La homo instruita kaj la homo simpla ne

forĵetas el sia koro la ideon pri Dio, sed ili alie
imagas tiun Dion. Ili konsideras lin kiel patro,
Dio bona, kaj ne kiel Dio forta kaj ĵaluza, kiu
punas ĝis la kvinan generacion... Tiel, ne
povante akordigi sian koron kun sana religio,
sen dogmoj kaj ridindaj antaŭjuĝoj, religio,
kiun ili povus krei kaj vastigi en si mem, ili sin
lasas forporti de la fluo, kaj vivadas kun pli aŭ
malpli da maldolĉeco kaj rezignacio.

Nenia problemo estas pli interesa ol tiu de la

«Kialo de la vivo», kaj la religio, anstataŭ sin
limigi laŭ la mallarĝeco de siaj dogmoj, kaj la
malklareco de la simboloj, havus belan kaj
noblan rolon por ludi, lumigante al la
homamasoj pri tiu demando, tiel konfuzanta.

Kion la religio ne faras, tion la filozofio devas

fari.

Homo povas vivi sen religio, sed li ne estus

homo, se li ne havus en si mem fondon
naturan de filozofio. Ĉe la unuj, tiu filozofio
estas embria, ĉe la aliaj, ĝi estas pli vastigita,
sed ĉe ĉiuj, ĝi estas kapabla progresi. La
filozofio de ĉiu estas la elradiiĝo de sia
konscienco, kaj la homa konscienco nepre
devas evolucii.

Kial ni ne serĉus inter la multaj filozofioj, kiujn

naskis la kleraj cerboj[TR1] de la tempo kiam la
mondo estas mondo, tiujn, kiuj sin apogante
sur la ezoterismo malkaŝita de la antikvaj
religioj, serĉas pli ol aliaj funde eldifini la
kialon de la vivo, stimuli racionalmaniere nian
konsciencon subpremitan de la suferoj,
plifirmigi per nevenkebla logiko nian kredon al
Dio justa kaj bona, klarigi metode la
estintecon, la estantecon, kaj la estontecon,
elmontrante la diajn leĝojn, kiuj regas la tutan
universon.

La teozofio subtenas plej speciale siajn

certigojn (kaj ne siajn dogmojn, ĉar ĝi ne
havas dogmojn) per la principoj konataj de la
kleruloj de la antikvaj religioj, principoj kiujn
oni tiam devis kaŝi por iaj mortemuloj, en la
antikvaj tempoj, kiam oni uzis la religion
kvazaŭ levilon por instigi kaj regi la
homamasojn.

La naturo pruvas al ni, ke ĉio en la universo

estas metode reguligita, ke ekzistas leĝoj
neŝanĝeblaj, kiujn nur superega inteligento
povis krei. Se ni esploras la astran mondon, ni
estas mirigitaj, vidante la harmonion, kiu
superregas la milojn da planedaj sistemoj,
ruligantaj siajn grandegajn globojn en la
senlimo. Tiuj sunoj, tiuj steloj, tiuj planedoj,
naskiĝas, brilas, estingiĝas, mortas, por sin
reformi, denove brili kaj estingiĝi tra la sekvo
de la jarcentoj, el kiuj ĉiu dekalkulas apenaŭ
unu sekundon de l' eterneco.

Se ni ekzamenas nian terglobon kaj la tutan

potencon de vivo, kiun ĝi turniĝigadas kun si
en la spaco, ni konstatas la saman ordon, la
saman precizecon; ni sentas, ke sama mano
direktas la tutan universon al celo difinita. Tiu
celo estas la perfekteco, kaj la leĝo kiu
kondukas la tutan universon al tiu celo estas
la leĝo de evolucio.

Ĉe la komenco, nia tero, senĉese

elrenversigita de la kataklismoj kiujn kaŭzis
ĝia densiĝado, estis neloĝebla, aŭ
pliĝustedire, ne taŭganta por la vivo. Iom post
iom, kaj tiu periodo daŭris milojn da jarcentoj,
la malvarmiĝado de la tera tavolo permesis la
elmontron de la vivo tia, kia ĝi estas la plej
simpla.

De la protozoarioj ĝis la homo, la evoluciado

estis malrapida, la jarcentoj sekvis la
jarcentojn, kaj nia globo, farante sian
harmonian vojaĝadon ĉirkaŭ la suno, kvietege
vidis la ŝanĝegon, kiun al ĝi estis altrudinta
superega volo.
Ĉu la homo reprezentas la lastan fazon de la
evolucio sur la plano fizika? Ĉio instigas nin ne
kredi tion. Tiel perfekta kaj tiel mirinda kiel
ŝajnas al ni la maŝino homa, ĝi ne estas
atinginta sian apogeon. Niaj sentoj, taŭgantaj
por niaj nunaj bezonoj, estas pliperfekteblaj:
ni ne ĉion vidas, ne ĉion aŭdas, ne ĉion
sentas. La koloro violega ne estas videbla per
nia vida organo, la vibradoj de la akutegaj
sonoj ne atingas nian aŭdan organon. Ĉio
kredigas, ke la homaro kiu sekvos, havos
sentojn pli delikatajn ol ni, kaj (kiu scias?)
eble novajn sentojn, kiel pretendas kelkaj
filozofoj antaŭdivenantaj.

La evolucio tia, kia ni ĝin konstatas, daŭriĝas

samtempe sur du planoj, diversaj, la plano
materia kaj la plano morala. Ĉe la komenco, la
homo sovaĝa estis preskaŭ besto kaj vivis
same kiel la bruto, gvidata de siaj maldelikataj
instinktoj. Iom post iom, li penadis por
delikatigi sian materian vivon, kaj iom post
iom ankaŭ, sentante ke ne nur ekzistas en li la
homa besto, li, vastigante sian inteligenton,
altigis sian animon al ĉio, kio estas granda,
bela kaj bona, altegaj regionoj kie superflugas
la plej puraj virtoj.
Tiu evolucio de l' homo[TR2] estis logika kaj
racionala konsekvenco de la evolucio besta kaj
vegeta. La bestoj sovaĝegaj pli kaj pli
malaperas el la tera supraĵo; la sovaĝaj
bestoj, sklavigitaj de la homo, vidis sian
instinkton vastiĝintan kaj anstataŭigitan de
reala inteligenteco. La sovaĝaj kreskaĵoj
ankaŭ ricevis influon de la homo, kaj dank' al
elektado rezonita, konservado konstanta, ili
ludas hodiaŭ superregan rolon en la homara
vivo.

Se la leĝo de altiro al ni permesas kompreni la

forton, kiu subtenas la mondojn en la spaco,
la leĝo de evolucio komprenigos al ni la kialon
de la vivo kaj sciigos nin, kun la tuta ŝajno de
serioza logiko, pri la problemo de la estado.

La homo, diras al ni la teozofoj, estas peceto

de Dio, kiu, el sia absoluteco, estas
elmontriĝinta en la universo por perfektigi sian
kreitaĵaron. Dio nepersona estas personiĝinta.
Ja Dio bona povis krei nur estaĵon bonan.
Efektive ĉiu homo, ĉe sia unua aperiĝo sur la
tero, ricevis, kiel nova animo, la samajn
donacojn, kaj kun tiuj ĉi la ĝuadon de la libera
decideco kaj la kapablecon esti gvidata kaj
subtenata de sia si individua aŭ sia Ego,
parolante per la voĉo de la konscienco.

Sen la libera decideco, la kreito estus estinta

nur maŝino; kun la libera decideco ĝi fariĝis
tutaĵo kapabla pligrandigi, en si mem, ĉiujn
virtojn, kiujn ĝi posedas kaj briligi belege la
dian fajreron, kiun ĝi havas en sia animo.

Dio kreis la homon bona, ni diris, sed li donis

al ĝi la taskon akiri la perfektecon, kiun la tuta
kreitaro estis profitonta, kaj kiu devas supre
trovi sian rekompencon finan en la eterna
kuniĝo kun li.

La libera decideco permesas al la homo reguli

sian vivadon laŭ sia volo; ĝi donis al li la eblon
elekti tute libere la vojetojn, kiuj estis
kondukontaj lin, post la necesa tempo, al la
celo montrita de Dio mem.

Tiu libereco, same kiel ĉiu libereco malbone

komprenata, estis fatale naskonta la
troliberecon kaj la trolibereco siavice estis
cedonta la lokon al la malvirtoj kaj elĉenigonta
la pasiojn. Dio kreis la homon bona; la homo
bona, trouzante sian liberecon, kreis la
malbonon, kiu estas la fonto de ĉiuj suferoj.
Reale, nur la bono ekzistas. La malbono estas
termino interkonsenta, kiun oni uzas por
esprimi la gradon de malgrandiĝo de la bono,
same kiel la malvarmo taŭgas por esprimi la
gradon de malpliiĝo de la varmo, ĉar science
nur la varmo ekzistas. Eĉ tiu grado de
malpliiĝo de varmo kaj de malgrandiĝo de la
bono estas tute rilata; ĝi ŝanĝiĝas, pri la
malvarmo, laŭ la lokoj kaj la kondiĉoj
atmosferaj, kaj pri la malbono laŭ la grado de
evolucio, aŭ se vi preferas, de civilizacio de la
estantoj.

Ni ekzamenu tiun rilaton inter la malbono kaj

la malvarmo.

Ni konsideru sovaĝulon, kiu kutimas mortigi

homon, kiel ni mortigas kokidon; tio estas
kutimo ĉe lia gento, neniu el lia ĉirkaŭantaro
pensas rigardi tiun faron, tiel simplan,
malbonaĵo; tamen, laŭ opinio de la homo
civilizita, kiu vidas la mortigon, estas krimo,
kiu elfariĝas. Afero de civilizacio aŭ de grado
de evolucio.

Ni konsideru mahometanon. Al li ŝajnas tute

nature havi senliman nombron da virinoj;
cetere lia religio tion al li permesas. Laŭ
moralo de kristano, kiu vivas kvazaŭedze kun
multaj virinoj, estas malĉastulo, perdiĝulo. La
malbono, tie ĉi, estas afero interkonsenta.

Ni rigardu nun tion, kio okazas ĉirkaŭ ni. Ni

konsideru homon kiu mortigis iun, homon kiu
ŝtelis, homon kiu drinkas, kaj homon
bonfaranteman.

Tiu ĉi lasta homo opinios nature, ke la tri aliaj

agas malbone. Kontraŭe, al la drinkulo nenio
ŝajnas malbona en la ago, kiu senidigas lin,
sed li malestimos tiun, kiu ŝtelas, kaj tiun, kiu
mortigas. Al tiu, kiu ŝtelas, ŝajnas tute nature,
ke li proprigas al si la propraĵon de aliulo, sed
li sin kredos multe pli valora ol la fripono, kiu
mortigis sian samulon; kaj tiu fripono mem,
tute posedata de la sento de sia venĝo,
pensos ke li agis tute rajte. En tiuj ĉi tri
ekzemploj, la malbono povas esti difinita nur
de tiuj, kies grado de evolucio senpere
superas tiun de la kulpuloj.

La «rilato» ekzistas same pri la malvarmo: Por

Laplandano, kutimita je tridek aŭ kvardek
gradoj da malvarmo, la temperaturo de niaj
Alpoj, kiu ŝajnas al ni nesuferebla, estos por li
temperaturo de varma kreskaĵejo. Proksime
de la nula grado, ni sentas malvarmon;
tamen, se ni promenadas dum la malvarmo
estas dekkvin grada sub nulo, kaj poste ni
eniras en ĉambron, kie la temperaturo estas
nulgrada, ni subite sentas kvazaŭvarmon.

Do, ni notu bone tiun esencan punkton, tio,

kion oni nomas malbono, ne estas faritaĵo de
Dio, sed de la homo. Dio toleras la malbonon,
tial ke ĝi utilas al la leĝo de evolucio,
alportante al la kreito sian parton de sperto
kaj instruo, kiu taŭgas por igi lin pripensi kaj
aŭskulti la voĉon de sia konscienco.

Infano, kiu tuŝas ruĝan[TR3] feron bruliĝas kaj

suferas. De tiam, la memoro[TR4] pri sufero
malhelpos lin alproksimiĝi al kio estas
brulanta. Same, la homo, se li serĉas la
kaŭzon de sia suferado, tre ofte trovos tiun
kaŭzon en la malobeo al la leĝo. Ni diras «tre
ofte», ĉar ekzistas malbonaĵoj, kies devenon
ni ne konas, aŭ ŝajnas neklarigebla, kaj kiuj
estas konsekvenco, kiel ni vidos en la sekvo,
de kulpoj faritaj en antaŭaj ekzistadoj.

De kio estas superskribita, la sintezo liberiĝas

nete kaj klare: la homo posedas, je sia unua
aperiĝo, ĉiujn virtojn, sed kaŝate; li povas ilin
vastigi, per kia ajn maniero, por atingi vole
nevole, la perfektecon kiujn li devas trafi frue
aŭ malfrue. Ju pli li forlasas la rektan vojon,
des pli li estas suferonta, kaj ju pli li suferas,
des pli li akiras la sperton difinitan por
rekonduki lin sur la bonan vojon.

Ĉu tiu evolucio, ŝajnante tiel malrapida al ni,

estas ebla dum la mallonga vivo de ĉiu homo!
Tute certe ne, se ni konsideras, ke individuo
ne ekzistas plu, kiam la morto plenumis sian
taskon. Sed se, kontraŭe, ni akceptas la
principon logikan kaj ĝustan de la intersekvaj
vivadoj, ni povas kompreni la grandecon kaj la
belecon de tiu evolucio daŭrigante sian
agadon kun saĝa malrapideco, perfekta ordo,
altega harmonio kaj perfektega justeco.

Nur kiuj ne kredas al la nemortebleco de la

animo, povas dubi pri la rekorpiĝo de la
estuloj, sed kiel do ili komprenigas la
neegalecojn sociajn, kiel do ili povas akordigi
la justecon kun la konstanta suferado dum la
tuta vivo de estulo kiu, ĉiuŝajne, nenion faris
por ĝin meriti? Kiel klarigi la genion, kiel
komprenigi la grandajn homojn, kiuj gvidis
la[TR5] homaron je diversaj epokoj?
La rekorpiĝo ekzistas, ĝi estas la helpanto, la
devigata plenumigo de la evolucia leĝo. Por
plibone kompreni la vivojn intersekvajn, ni
elstudu atente la homon.

Ni ĵus diris, kun la filozofoj, ke la homo estas

peceto de Dio. La homo estas do individuaĵo,
tiu «si», tiu «Ego», estante el dia esenco, ne
povas esti materio, sed spirito. La individuaĵo,
antaŭ ol naskiĝi sur tiu ĉi tero, ekzistas ja kiel
estulo spirita. Sekve la gepatroj de infano
liveris al tiu individuaĵo korpiĝinta nur la
materiajn elementojn por la farigo de ĝia
fizika korpo, kiu ne estas io alia ol unu el la
provizoraj ŝeloj de tiu individuaĵo, alvokita por
vivi, por sin vastigi, kaj akiri la perfektecon,
kiu estas la komuna bieno por ĉiuj estaĵoj.

Ni ĵus diris «unu el la provizoraj ŝeloj»;

efektive, la teozofoj sciigas al ni ke la «Ego»
havas multajn ŝelojn, el kiuj unu materian kiu
disiĝas post la morto, kaj aliajn pli subtilajn
kiuj postvivas pli malpli longatempe, laŭ la
grado de spirita antaŭenirado de la estaĵo.

Do la gepatroj donis al la infano kiu ĵus

naskiĝis, nur la materian ŝelon de ĝia spirito
jam ekzistanta, ili ne donis al ĝi eĉ la vivon,
ĉar la viva forteco estas forto kaŝata, kiun
disponas nur la inteligento superega kaj dia.
Neniam la homo havis la povon vivigi la
materion.

Tiu infano, ni diris, posedas en si ĉiujn virtojn

kaŝate; li ricevas, tuj kiam li ekvidas la
influojn de la ĉirkaŭaĵaro, en kiu li devas trovi
sian vojon, kaj kiu estas altrudata al li por lia
antaŭenirado.

Tio estas la studado de la vivo, kiu

komenciĝas, tio estas la irado al la celo, kiu
difiniĝas, kun sia tuta malrapideco, siaj
ŝanceliĝoj; siaj haltoj. Al li apartenas la
kapablo juĝi la bonon kaj la malbonon,
pligrandigi siajn virtojn; estas li, kiu povas
venki siajn malbonecojn, aŭ esti venkota de
ili.

Se tiu infano, homiĝinte, eniras kaj iradas la

malbonan vojon, malgraŭ la riproĉoj, la
avertoj de siaj proksimuloj, malgraŭ la
internaj alvokoj, kiujn li malŝatas kaj ne volas
aŭdi, ĉu vi sincere kredas ke sufiĉos ke li
kredu je la horo de sia morto, por esti savota;
ĉu vi kredas ke penta horo akirigos al li la
ĉielon sen partigo, ĉu vi kredas fine ke nur la
infero estas al li rezervata dum la eterneco?
Ne! Same kiel vi neniam komprenos ke infano,
kiu ne laboras, kiu ne volas studi, kiu lasas sin
delogi de siaj devoj, gajnu siajn universitatajn
rangojn antaŭ ol li estu duoblinta siajn
klasojn, replenuminta siajn ekzamenojn, tiel vi
neniam povos konsenti, se vi havas la plej
malgrandan senton pri justeco, kaj se vi iom
pripensas, ke estulo tute malbonema,
vastiginte en si ĝis la plej alta grado ĉiujn plej
hontindajn pasiojn, povu, per la sola faleto de
la «Diahelpo» aŭ per la volo de pastro, gajni la
eternan feliĉecon, kiel estulo kies la gvido
dum la vivo estis praktiko de la bonfarado, de
la amo kaj de la disdonemo.

La estulo malbonema do devos duobligi,

triobligi, kvarobligi siajn klasojn aŭ, pli
ĝustedire, sin rekorpigi ĝis la tago kiam li
komprenos (la sperto lin helpante) ke li devas
labori por antaŭeniri, kaj la sperto, ho ve!
estas en tiu ĉi mondo (ĉu ni bezonas
rememori pri tio?) nur la frukto de suferado.

La infero, kiel loko, ne ekzistas; ĝi estas nur

provizora stato de animo, kaŭzita de
konsciencaj riproĉoj.
La leĝo pri evolucio povas do sentigi al
homaro sian agadon, nur se ĝi estas apogata,
helpata kaj plifortigata de la rekorpiĝo de la
estuloj.

Tiu rekorpiĝo estas ne nur la rimedo, kiun

uzas la evolucio por trafi sian celon, ĝi
enhavas en si mem preciozan leĝon: la dian
justecon. En ĉiu societo formita, la justeco
ludas en tiu ĉi mondo la superaltan rolon, ĝi
estas la fundamento de la homaj aroj, la
garantio de la institucioj, la certigo pri la
moralo de leĝoj. La diaj leĝoj same estas
garantataj de dia justeco, kaj tiu ĉi justeco
elmontriĝas kun sia tuta majesteco, sia
belegeco en la rekorpiĝo de la estuloj.
Efektive, se ni akceptas ke unu sola homa vivo
estas tro mallonga por alkonduki la homon al
la perfekteco, ni same devas akcepti ke tiu
sama vivo estas tro mallonga por ke la homo
elpagu ĉiujn kulpojn siajn, gravajn aŭ
negravajn, kaj ke li akiru tiele la necesan
sperton por sia antaŭenirado.

Se ni kreas kaj pligrandigas niajn malvirtojn,

se ni cedas al niaj pasioj, tiamaniere
malakcelante nian antaŭeniradon, tio estas
tiom da ŝtonetoj, kiujn ni ĵetas kontraŭ
Welcome to Our Bookstore - The Ultimate Destination for Book Lovers
Are you passionate about books and eager to explore new worlds of
knowledge? At our website, we offer a vast collection of books that
cater to every interest and age group. From classic literature to
specialized publications, self-help books, and children’s stories, we
have it all! Each book is a gateway to new adventures, helping you
expand your knowledge and nourish your soul
Experience Convenient and Enjoyable Book Shopping Our website is more
than just an online bookstore—it’s a bridge connecting readers to the
timeless values of culture and wisdom. With a sleek and user-friendly
interface and a smart search system, you can find your favorite books
quickly and easily. Enjoy special promotions, fast home delivery, and
a seamless shopping experience that saves you time and enhances your
love for reading.
Let us accompany you on the journey of exploring knowledge and
personal growth!

ebookgate.com