【家庭醫學】~ 爬樹對小朋友的益處和風險
最近爬樹正熱,你家的小朋友也爬樹了嗎?
因為少子化的關係,現在很多家長都十分保護小孩子,可能連樹都不能爬了!
理由就是「危險」!
然而,爬樹是人類演化中的天性,是生存必需的技能;從遠古時代,為了躲避危險 (洪水、猛獸),就需要爬到樹上;為了採集樹上的果實,同樣需要爬樹;為了偵查附近的情況,爬到樹上也是個好選擇。
在美國很多州,甚至還有團體制定了「兒童戶外權利法案」(Children's Outdoor Bill of Rights);其中,爬樹就是一項權利。
你也可以上網看看唷,真的不是虎爛的
http://bit.ly/30VWpXs
回到正題,那我們在禁止小朋友爬樹之前,先來看看之前研究報告中,爬樹有哪些益處吧?
1. 批判性思考 (Critical thinking)
2. 想像力 及 創造力 (Imagination and creativity)
3. 解決問題能力 (Problem solving)
4. 自信心 (Self-confidence)
5. 社交互動 (Social interaction)
6. 敏捷 及 體力 (Dexterity and physical strength)
7. 認知 及 情感力 (Cognitive and emotional strength)
8. 恢復力 (Resiliency)
9. 風險談判 (Risk negotiation)
10. 空間感 (Spatial awareness)
看完是不是也想爬樹了呢?還是你覺得這些屬性,好像在玩遊戲,要把主人公的能力都點滿。
我們當然不會只隱惡揚善,爬樹也會有風險的,傷害主要機轉是[高處跌落],如:挫傷、牙齒斷裂、骨折、昏迷、死亡。
那家長可以做什麼,才能提供小朋友一個安全的爬樹環境呢?
A. 協助小朋友測試樹的強度
B. 避免已經枯死的樹枝
C. 教導小朋友要尊重大樹
D. 溼滑時不要爬樹
如果還是會害怕,那現在有很多團體有辦理「攀樹課程」,家長就交給專業的去教學。現在正值暑假,相關的活動應該很多。大家有興趣,再自己找課程上囉。或是上過課有推薦的,也可以留言在下面供大家參考。
(之前在大安森林公園也看過攀樹的活動)
[參考文獻]:
Gull, Carla, Suzanne Levenson Goldenstein, and Tricia Rosengarten. "Benefits and Risks of Tree Climbing on Child Development and Resiliency." International Journal of Early Childhood Environmental Education 5.2 (2018): 10-29.
同時也有3部Youtube影片,追蹤數超過3萬的網紅POPA Channel,也在其Youtube影片中提到,在幼兒教育的研究領域入面,一直存在兩派陣營。一派認為,學業愈早開始愈好,應該一出世便開始玩閃卡認字,兩歲便入幼稚園學讀書寫字、日日做功課,最好入小學前已經學識小一、二、三的課程,贏在起跑線。 另一派則認為,過度催谷小朋友的學業,非但不能確保他們將來學有所成,而且仲可能會造成小朋友將來的心理問題、情...
「early childhood education journal」的推薦目錄:
- 關於early childhood education journal 在 家醫/職醫_陳崇賢醫師 Facebook
- 關於early childhood education journal 在 家醫/職醫_陳崇賢醫師 Facebook
- 關於early childhood education journal 在 YOSHITOMO NARA Facebook
- 關於early childhood education journal 在 POPA Channel Youtube
- 關於early childhood education journal 在 POPA Channel Youtube
- 關於early childhood education journal 在 POPA Channel Youtube
early childhood education journal 在 家醫/職醫_陳崇賢醫師 Facebook 八卦
【家庭醫學】~ 爬樹對小朋友的益處和風險
最近爬樹正熱,你家的小朋友也爬樹了嗎?
因為少子化的關係,現在很多家長都十分保護小孩子,可能連樹都不能爬了!
理由就是「危險」!
然而,爬樹是人類演化中的天性,是生存必需的技能;從遠古時代,為了躲避危險 (洪水、猛獸),就需要爬到樹上;為了採集樹上的果實,同樣需要爬樹;為了偵查附近的情況,爬到樹上也是個好選擇。
在美國很多州,甚至還有團體制定了「兒童戶外權利法案」(Children's Outdoor Bill of Rights);其中,爬樹就是一項權利。
你也可以上網看看唷,真的不是虎爛的
http://bit.ly/30VWpXs
回到正題,那我們在禁止小朋友爬樹之前,先來看看之前研究報告中,爬樹有哪些益處吧?
1. 批判性思考 (Critical thinking)
2. 想像力 及 創造力 (Imagination and creativity)
3. 解決問題能力 (Problem solving)
4. 自信心 (Self-confidence)
5. 社交互動 (Social interaction)
6. 敏捷 及 體力 (Dexterity and physical strength)
7. 認知 及 情感力 (Cognitive and emotional strength)
8. 恢復力 (Resiliency)
9. 風險談判 (Risk negotiation)
10. 空間感 (Spatial awareness)
看完是不是也想爬樹了呢?還是你覺得這些屬性,好像在玩遊戲,要把主人公的能力都點滿。
我們當然不會只隱惡揚善,爬樹也會有風險的,傷害主要機轉是[高處跌落],如:挫傷、牙齒斷裂、骨折、昏迷、死亡。
那家長可以做什麼,才能提供小朋友一個安全的爬樹環境呢?
A. 協助小朋友測試樹的強度
B. 避免已經枯死的樹枝
C. 教導小朋友要尊重大樹
D. 溼滑時不要爬樹
如果還是會害怕,那現在有很多團體有辦理「攀樹課程」,家長就交給專業的去教學。現在正值暑假,相關的活動應該很多。大家有興趣,再自己找課程上囉。或是上過課有推薦的,也可以留言在下面供大家參考。
(之前在大安森林公園也看過攀樹的活動)
[參考文獻]:
Gull, Carla, Suzanne Levenson Goldenstein, and Tricia Rosengarten. "Benefits and Risks of Tree Climbing on Child Development and Resiliency." International Journal of Early Childhood Environmental Education 5.2 (2018): 10-29.
early childhood education journal 在 YOSHITOMO NARA Facebook 八卦
Nobody’s Fool ( January 2011 )
Yoshitomo Nara
Do people look to my childhood for sources of my imagery? Back then, the snow-covered fields of the north were about as far away as you could get from the rapid economic growth happening elsewhere. Both my parents worked and my brothers were much older, so the only one home to greet me when I got back from elementary school was a stray cat we’d taken in. Even so, this was the center of my world. In my lonely room, I would twist the radio dial to the American military base station and out blasted rock and roll music. One of history’s first man-made satellites revolved around me up in the night sky. There I was, in touch with the stars and radio waves.
It doesn’t take much imagination to envision how a lonely childhood in such surroundings might give rise to the sensibility in my work. In fact, I also used to believe in this connection. I would close my eyes and conjure childhood scenes, letting my imagination amplify them like the music coming from my speakers.
But now, past the age of fifty and more cool-headed, I’ve begun to wonder how big a role childhood plays in making us who we are as adults. Looking through reproductions of the countless works I’ve made between my late twenties and now, I get the feeling that childhood experiences were merely a catalyst. My art derives less from the self-centered instincts of childhood than from the day-to-day sensory experiences of an adult who has left this realm behind. And, ultimately, taking the big steps pales in importance to the daily need to keep on walking.
While I was in high school, before I had anything to do with art, I worked part-time in a rock café. There I became friends with a graduate student of mathematics who one day started telling me, in layman’s terms, about his major in topology. His explanation made the subject seem less like a branch of mathematics than some fascinating organic philosophy. My understanding is that topology offers you a way to discover the underlying sameness of countless, seemingly disparate, forms. Conversely, it explains why many people, when confronted with apparently identical things, will accept a fake as the genuine article. I later went on to study art, live in Germany, and travel around the world, and the broader perspective I’ve gained has shown me that topology has long been a subtext of my thinking. The more we add complexity, the more we obscure what is truly valuable. Perhaps the reason I began, in the mid-90s, trying to make paintings as simple as possible stems from that introduction to topology gained in my youth.
As a kid listening to U.S. armed-forces radio, I had no idea what the lyrics meant, but I loved the melody and rhythm of the music. In junior high school, my friends and I were already discussing rock and roll like credible music critics, and by the time I started high school, I was hanging out in rock coffee shops and going to live shows. We may have been a small group of social outcasts, but the older kids, who smoked cigarettes and drank, talked to us all night long about movies they’d seen or books they’d read. If the nighttime student quarter had been the school, I’m sure I would have been a straight-A student.
In the 80s, I left my hometown to attend art school, where I was anything but an honors student. There, a model student was one who brought a researcher’s focus to the work at hand. Your bookshelves were stacked with catalogues and reference materials. When you weren’t working away in your studio, you were meeting with like-minded classmates to discuss art past and present, including your own. You were hoping to set new trends in motion. Wholly lacking any grand ambition, I fell well short of this model, with most of my paintings done to satisfy class assignments. I was, however, filling every one of my notebooks, sketchbooks, and scraps of wrapping paper with crazy, graffiti-like drawings.
Looking back on my younger days—Where did where all that sparkling energy go? I used the money from part-time jobs to buy record albums instead of art supplies and catalogues. I went to movies and concerts, hung out with my girlfriend, did funky drawings on paper, and made midnight raids on friends whose boarding-room lights still happened to be on. I spent the passions of my student days outside the school studio. This is not to say I wasn’t envious of the kids who earned the teachers’ praise or who debuted their talents in early exhibitions. Maybe envy is the wrong word. I guess I had the feeling that we were living in separate worlds. Like puffs of cigarette smoke or the rock songs from my speaker, my adolescent energies all vanished in the sky.
Being outside the city and surrounded by rice fields, my art school had no art scene to speak of—I imagined the art world existing in some unknown dimension, like that of TV or the movies. At the time, art could only be discussed in a Western context, and, therefore, seemed unreal. But just as every country kid dreams of life in the big city, this shaky art-school student had visions of the dazzling, far-off realm of contemporary art. Along with this yearning was an equally strong belief that I didn’t deserve admittance to such a world. A typical provincial underachiever!
I did, however, love to draw every day and the scrawled sketches, never shown to anybody, started piling up. Like journal entries reflecting the events of each day, they sometimes intersected memories from the past. My little everyday world became a trigger for the imagination, and I learned to develop and capture the imagery that arose. I was, however, still a long way off from being able to translate those countless images from paper to canvas.
Visions come to us through daydreams and fantasies. Our emotional reaction towards these images makes them real. Listening to my record collection gave me a similar experience. Before the Internet, the precious little information that did exist was to be found in the two or three music magazines available. Most of my records were imported—no liner notes or lyric sheets in Japanese. No matter how much I liked the music, living in a non-English speaking world sadly meant limited access to the meaning of the lyrics. The music came from a land of societal, religious, and subcultural sensibilities apart from my own, where people moved their bodies to it in a different rhythm. But that didn’t stop me from loving it. I never got tired of poring over every inch of the record jackets on my 12-inch vinyl LPs. I took the sounds and verses into my body. Amidst today’s superabundance of information, choosing music is about how best to single out the right album. For me, it was about making the most use of scant information to sharpen my sensibilities, imagination, and conviction. It might be one verse, melody, guitar riff, rhythmic drum beat or bass line, or record jacket that would inspire me and conjure up fresh imagery. Then, with pencil in hand, I would draw these images on paper, one after the other. Beyond good or bad, the pictures had a will of their own, inhabiting the torn pages with freedom and friendliness.
By the time I graduated from university, my painting began to approach the independence of my drawing. As a means for me to represent a world that was mine and mine alone, the paintings may not have been as nimble as the drawings, but I did them without any preliminary sketching. Prizing feelings that arose as I worked, I just kept painting and over-painting until I gained a certain freedom and the sense, though vague at the time, that I had established a singular way of putting images onto canvas. Yet, I hadn’t reached the point where I could declare that I would paint for the rest of my life.
After receiving my undergraduate degree, I entered the graduate school of my university and got a part-time job teaching at an art yobiko—a prep school for students seeking entrance to an art college. As an instructor, training students how to look at and compose things artistically, meant that I also had to learn how to verbalize my thoughts and feelings. This significant growth experience not only allowed me to take stock of my life at the time, but also provided a refreshing opportunity to connect with teenage hearts and minds.
And idealism! Talking to groups of art students, I naturally found myself describing the ideals of an artist. A painful experience for me—I still had no sense of myself as an artist. The more the students showed their affection for me, the more I felt like a failed artist masquerading as a sensei (teacher). After completing my graduate studies, I kept working as a yobiko instructor. And in telling students about the path to becoming an artist, I began to realize that I was still a student myself, with many things yet to learn. I felt that I needed to become a true art student. I decided to study in Germany. The day I left the city where I had long lived, many of my students appeared on the platform to see me off.
Life as a student in Germany was a happy time. I originally intended to go to London, but for economic reasons chose a tuition-free, and, fortunately, academism-free German school. Personal approaches coexisted with conceptual ones, and students tried out a wide range of modes of expression. Technically speaking, we were all students, but each of us brought a creator’s spirit to the fore. The strong wills and opinions of the local students, though, were well in place before they became artists thanks to the German system of early education. As a reticent foreign student from a far-off land, I must have seemed like a mute child. I decided that I would try to make myself understood not through words, but through having people look at my pictures. When winter came and leaden clouds filled the skies, I found myself slipping back to the winters of my childhood. Forgoing attempts to speak in an unknown language, I redoubled my efforts to express myself through visions of my private world. Thinking rather than talking, then illustrating this thought process in drawings and, finally, realizing it in a painting. Instead of defeating you in an argument, I wanted to invite you inside me. Here I was, in a most unexpected place, rediscovering a value that I thought I had lost—I felt that I had finally gained the ability to learn and think, that I had become a student in the truest sense of the word.
But I still wasn’t your typical honors student. My paintings clearly didn’t look like contemporary art, and nobody would say my images fit in the context of European painting. They did, however, catch the gaze of dealers who, with their antennae out for young artists, saw my paintings as new objects that belonged less to the singular world of art and more to the realm of everyday life. Several were impressed by the freshness of my art, and before I knew it, I was invited to hold exhibitions in established galleries—a big step into a wider world.
The six years that I spent in Germany after completing my studies and before returning to Japan were golden days, both for me and my work. Every day and every night, I worked tirelessly to fix onto canvas all the visions that welled up in my head. My living space/studio was in a dreary, concrete former factory building on the outskirts of Cologne. It was the center of my world. Late at night, my surroundings were enveloped in darkness, but my studio was brightly lit. The songs of folk poets flowed out of my speakers. In that place, standing in front of the canvas sometimes felt like traveling on a solitary voyage in outer space—a lonely little spacecraft floating in the darkness of the void. My spaceship could go anywhere in this fantasy while I was painting, even to the edge of the universe.
Suddenly one day, I was flung outside—my spaceship was to be scrapped. My little vehicle turned back into an old concrete building, one that was slated for destruction because it was falling apart. Having lost the spaceship that had accompanied me on my lonely travels, and lacking the energy to look for a new studio, I immediately decided that I might as well go back to my homeland. It was painful and sad to leave the country where I had lived for twelve years and the handful of people I could call friends. But I had lost my ship. The only place I thought to land was my mother country, where long ago those teenagers had waved me goodbye and, in retrospect, whose letters to me while I was in Germany were a valuable source of fuel.
After my long space flight, I returned to Japan with the strange sense of having made a full orbit around the planet. The new studio was a little warehouse on the outskirts of Tokyo, in an area dotted with rice fields and small factories. When the wind blew, swirls of dust slipped in through the cracks, and water leaked down the walls in heavy rains. In my dilapidated warehouse, only one sheet of corrugated metal separated me from the summer heat and winter cold. Despite the funky environment, I was somehow able to keep in midnight contact with the cosmos—the beings I had drawn and painted in Germany began to mature. The emotional quality of the earlier work gave way to a new sense of composure. I worked at refining the former impulsiveness of the drawings and the monochromatic, almost reverent, backgrounds of the paintings. In my pursuit of fresh imagery, I switched from idle experimentation to a more workmanlike approach towards capturing what I saw beyond the canvas.
Children and animals—what simple motifs! Appearing on neat canvases or in ephemeral drawings, these figures are easy on the viewers’ eyes. Occasionally, they shake off my intentions and leap to the feet of their audience, never to return. Because my motifs are accessible, they are often only understood on a superficial level. Sometimes art that results from a long process of development receives only shallow general acceptance, and those who should be interpreting it fail to do so, either through a lack of knowledge or insufficient powers of expression. Take, for example, the music of a specific era. People who lived during this era will naturally appreciate the music that was then popular. Few of these listeners, however, will know, let alone value, the music produced by minor labels, by introspective musicians working under the radar, because it’s music that’s made in answer to an individual’s desire, not the desires of the times. In this way, people who say that “Nara loves rock,” or “Nara loves punk” should see my album collection. Of four thousand records there are probably fewer than fifty punk albums. I do have a lot of 60s and 70s rock and roll, but most of my music is from little labels that never saw commercial success—traditional roots music by black musicians and white musicians, and contemplative folk. The spirit of any era gives birth to trends and fashions as well as their opposite: countless introspective individual worlds. A simultaneous embrace of both has cultivated my sensibility and way of thinking. My artwork is merely the tip of the iceberg that is my self. But if you analyzed the DNA from this tip, you would probably discover a new way of looking at my art. My viewers become a true audience when they take what I’ve made and make it their own. That’s the moment the works gain their freedom, even from their maker.
After contemplative folk singers taught me about deep empathy, the punk rockers schooled me in explosive expression.
I was born on this star, and I’m still breathing. Since childhood, I’ve been a jumble of things learned and experienced and memories that can’t be forgotten. Their involuntary locomotion is my inspiration. I don’t express in words the contents of my work. I’ll only tell you my history. The countless stories living inside my work would become mere fabrications the moment I put them into words. Instead, I use my pencil to turn them into pictures. Standing before the dark abyss, here’s hoping my spaceship launches safely tonight….
early childhood education journal 在 POPA Channel Youtube 的評價
在幼兒教育的研究領域入面,一直存在兩派陣營。一派認為,學業愈早開始愈好,應該一出世便開始玩閃卡認字,兩歲便入幼稚園學讀書寫字、日日做功課,最好入小學前已經學識小一、二、三的課程,贏在起跑線。
另一派則認為,過度催谷小朋友的學業,非但不能確保他們將來學有所成,而且仲可能會造成小朋友將來的心理問題、情緒問題。家長老師應該跟隨小朋友的進度,讓他們自由自在的探索世界,培養社交能力,這樣比學會讀書寫字重要得多。小朋友不應在學業上有任何壓力。
究竟哪一種說法才對?一派的目標是,希望催谷小朋友在學術上的認知能力(cognitive abilities),而另一派的目標是,希望小朋友的性格、心智可以健康發展(mental development)。
又或者,其實有沒有辦法可以兩者兼得?
參考資料
www. toolsofthemind. org
Tough, P. “Can Play Teach Self-Control?” New York Times Magazine, September 25, 2009
Bronson, Po, and Ashley Merryman. "Chapter 8: Can Self-Control Be Taught?" NurtureShock: New Thinking about Children. New York: Twelve, 2009.
Bodrova, E., “Make-believe Play vs. Academic Skills: A Vygotskian Approach to Today’s Dilemma of Early Childhood Education” European Early Childhood Education Research Journal. 2008

early childhood education journal 在 POPA Channel Youtube 的評價
上集提到,由美國學者所創的 tools of the mind 課程,學生既可以每日返學,只係以玩遊戲方式學習,學術能力和自制能力亦明顯比其他小朋友優勝,而且更有獨立科學研究確認它的功效,到底 tools 課程有何特別之處?
其中一個與傳統教育方法最大的差異是,以往若我們想去調整小孩的行為,一般都會用獎勵正面行為、懲罰負面行為的方法。但從tools of the mind 課程的角度看,這些外來的引導手法(external reinforcement systems),其實有很多缺點,例如小朋友會變得只是識得服從、缺乏自發性,而且功效不持久,當不再有獎或者罰的時候,他們的行為便可能不再受到控制。
所以,在 tools 課室內,是不會有獎勵或懲罰的。因為 tools 的理念認為,小朋友的學習方式,是一個由內在牽動的自發過程(self-regulation),家長老師應該做的,是營造一個合適的環境,提供適當的輔助去誘導學生自發的學習。而最有效的方法,就是讓他們玩遊戲!
參考資料
www. toolsofthemind. org
Tough P. Can Play Teach Self-Control? New York Times Magazine, September 25, 2009
Branson P. & Merryman A. 2011. NurtureShock: New Thinking About Children
Bodrova E. 2008. Make-believe play vs. academic skills: A Vygotskian approach to today’s dilemma of early childhood education. European Early Childhood Education Research Journal 2008
Istomina, Z.M. 1977. The developmental of voluntary memory in preschool-age children. In Soviet developmental psychology, ed. M. Cole. New York: M.E. Sharpe
Manuilenko, Zinaida V. 1975. The Development of Voluntary Behavior by Preschool-age Children. Soviet Psychology and Psychiatry

early childhood education journal 在 POPA Channel Youtube 的評價
父母多些同子女睇書,不單止可以增強小朋友的語言能力、培養他們對閱讀的興趣,更可以幫助他們增進知識、擴闊眼界、和學習良好的品格。不過,父母睇書講故事時,應該用書面語朗讀,還是用口語講好?
參考資料
The Effects of Storytelling and Story Reading on the Oral Language Complexity and Story Comprehension of Young Children, Rebecca Isbell, Early Childhood Education Journal, Vol. 32, No. 3, December 2004
A Comparison Study of the Effects of Story Reading and Storytelling on the Reading Performance of Young Children, Hong Kong Journal of Early Childhood, Vol. 10, No. 1, July 2011
小巫(2013)。好故事,怎麼說?爸媽也能變成說故事高手。台灣:龍少年。

early childhood education journal 在 Journal of Early Childhood Research - SAGE Journals 的相關結果
This peer reviewed journal provides an international forum for childhood research, bridging cross-disciplinary areas and applying theory and research within ... ... <看更多>
early childhood education journal 在 Early Childhood Education Journal - ResearchGate 的相關結果
Early Childhood Education Journal | Early Childhood Education Journal is a professional publication for early childhood practitioners such as classroom ... ... <看更多>
early childhood education journal 在 Early Childhood Education Journal | Home - Springer 的相關結果
... <看更多>