We are all aware, alas, what a monstrous quantity of printed matter has gone into the dustbin of our memories, because we have failed to perform that quite natural and spontaneous ‘act of knowing,’ as easy to a child as breathing and, if we would believe it, comparatively easy to ourselves. The reward is two-fold: no intellectual habit is so valuable as that of attention; it is a mere habit, but it is also the hallmark of an educated person.
Students everywhere attend to something. The question is to whom or to what are they attending? Is it a fleeting thought; self-consciousness; an interest or person outside of school, or a beautifully written text, algorithm, or discovery in science or history?
In a typical classroom, students’ attention is often directed to an outcome: “Do I have to know this for the test?” Students are trained to value knowledge and information chiefly as they pertain to quizzes, tests and exams.
Ambleside students, however, learn to direct and sustain attention on the “text” — whether the text is a well-written book, a musical composition, an algorithm, a great master’s painting, a nature specimen, or instruction in a particular skill — to perform what Mason described as the act of knowing.
Just as the body hungers for nourishment, so does the mind hunger for knowledge. Ambleside students learn to attend to a text, to narrate what they saw, heard, or read and tell back what was known. During this process, minds stir and grow and seize ideas from teachers and fellow students. Every Ambleside teacher strives to provide students with food for the mind.
As they encounter and feed on the many texts around them, Ambleside students become: