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Coast Salish children's narratives : structural analysis from three perspectives Brighouse, Jean Alison 1990

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COAST SALISH CHILDREN'S NARRATIVES: STRUCTURAL ANALYSIS FROM THREE PERSPECTIVES By JEAN ALISON BRIGHOUSE B.Sc, The University of Victoria, 1986 A THESIS SUBMITTED IN PARTIAL FULFILLMENT OF THE REQUIREMENTS FOR THE DEGREE OF MASTER OF SCIENCE in THE FACULTY OF GRADUATE STUDIES The School of Audiology and Speech Sciences We accept this thesis as conforming to the required standard THE UNIVERSITY OF BRITISH COLUMBIA September 1990 © Jean Alison Brighouse, 1990 In presenting this thesis in partial fulfilment of the requirements for an advanced degree at the University of British Columbia, I agree that the Library shall make it freely available for reference and study. I further agree that permission for extensive copying of this thesis for scholarly purposes may be granted by the head of my department or by his or her representatives. It is understood that copying or publication of this thesis for financial gain shall not be allowed without my written permission. Department o f SfrhtW of Audidlcqy k Speech S o e n c e S The University of British Columbia Vancouver, Canada DE-6 (2/88) A B S T R A C T Narratives serve many functions within a given cultural group. As well as reflecting and transmitting the social values of that group, narratives provide children with a cognitive framework that is an important factor in the learning process. Although the structure of narratives has been described for mainstream children, there is some debate as to whether different cultures share the same narrative structure. A culturally-based difference in narrative structure may contribute to the fact that Native Indian children (as well as children from other minority cultures) are overrepresented among those children who have difficulty in school. The present study set out to investigate whether there was a discernable difference in the structure of narratives told by five Coast Salish children aged 5;0 -8;6 and those told by mainstream children reported in the narrative development research literature. Two types of narratives (personal experience and fictional) were collected and analyzed according to three analysis procedures: high point analysis, which emphasizes evaluation of events; episodic analysis, which emphasizes goal-based action; and poetic analysis, which emphasizes the poetic form of the narratives. The high point analysis revealed that the Coast Salish children ordered events in their stories in a different order than mainstream children do. Both the high point ii and the episodic analyses showed that the Coast Salish children expressed relationships between events implicitly more frequently than mainstream children. The poetic analysis was the most revealing of potential intercultural differences. This analysis revealed that falling intonation, grammatic closure, lexical markers and shifts in perspective (reference, action, focused participant, time frame, comment, etc.) defined structural units in the narratives of the Coast Salish children. This evidence of structural unit markers was consistent with predictions based on research by Scollon & Scollon (1981, 1984). The results of this investigation have implications for educators and speech-language pathologists in their interaction with Native Indian children. In addition, the results provide a useful indication of the necessary considerations and appropriate procedures for carrying out a more focused study of the narratives of a larger group of Native Indian children. iii TABLE OF CONTENTS ABSTRACT ii TABLE OF CONTENTS iv LIST OF TABLES ix ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS x RESEARCH REVIEW AND STATEMENT OF THE PROBLEM 1 Introduction 1 Narrative Structure 6 Crosscultural Perspective on Narrative Structure 17 Narrative Development 28 Crosscultural Perspective on Narrative Development 37 Expectations for Coast Salish Narratives 46 METHOD 48 Design 48 Subjects 50 Data Collection 51 Analysis 53 High Point Analysis: Criteria for Determining Narrative Components 55 iv High Point Analysis: Criteria for Determining Overall Structure 58 Episodic Analysis: Criteria for Determining Narrative Components 61 Episodic Analysis: Criteria for Determining Overall Structure 63 Analysis Procedure 65 Poetic Structure Analysis 66 Criteria for Determining Poetic Components: Line, Verse, Stanza 68 HIGH POINT ANALYSIS 73 Personal Narratives 74 Description of Overall Structure 75 Summary of Overall Level 83 Narrative Components 85 Abstracts 85 Orientation 86 Complicating Action 88 Resolution 89 Evaluation 90 Summary of Personal Narratives 96 Frog Narratives 98 v Summary of the Chapter 105 EPISODIC ANALYSIS 109 Frog Narratives 110 Description of Overall Structure 111 Summary of Overall Structure 123 Story Grammar Components 126 Setting 127 Initiating Event 127 Internal Response (Goals) 128 Attempt 129 Consequence 131 Story Retelling as a Recall Task 132 Summary of Frog Narratives 134 Personal Narratives 135 Summary of the Chapter 141 POETIC ANALYSIS 145 Poetic Structure of the Frog Narratives 147 Susan's Narrative 147 Brian's Narrative 151 Donny's Narrative 157 Adam's Narrative 161 Annie's Narrative 163 vi Comparison of Frog Narratives 165 Summary of the Chapter 169 S U M M A R Y AND C O N C L U S I O N S 171 BIBLIOGRAPHY 178 APPENDIX A: FROG, WHERE ARE YOU? (MAYER 1969): P ICTURE BY PICTURE DESCRIPTION 183 A P P E N D I X B: NARRATIVE ANALYSIS W O R K S H E E T 185 A P P E N D I X C: TRANSCRIPTIONS O F P E R S O N A L NARRATIVES 189 Brian 189 Susan 189 Donny 190 Adam 191 Annie 193 A P P E N D I X D: TRANSCRIPTIONS O F F R O G NARRATIVES 194 "Without book" Condition 194 Brian 194 Susan 195 Donny 196 Adam 198 Annie 199 "With book" Condition 200 Brian 200 vii Susan 201 Donny 202 Adam 203 Annie 205 APPENDIX E: POETIC S T R U C T U R E 207 Brian 207 Alternate Analysis 209 Susan 211 Donny 215 Adam 218 Annie 220 viii LIST OF TABLES TABLE 1: EXAMPLE OF A PERSONAL EXPERIENCE NARRATIVE 11 TABLE 2: OUTLINES OF TWO STORY GRAMMARS 13 TABLE 3: AGE OF SUBJECTS 51 TABLE 4: HIGH POINT STRUCTURE OF PERSONAL NARRATIVES 76 TABLE 5: NUMBER OF CLAUSES INCLUDING DIFFERENT TYPES OF ORIENTATION INFORMATION 86 TABLE 6: DIFFERENT TYPES OF EVALUATION 91 TABLE 7: NUMBER AND PROPORTION OF CLAUSES CONTAINING EVALUATION 91 TABLE 8: HIGH POINT STRUCTURE OF FROG NARRATIVES 99 TABLE 9: STORY GRAMMAR STRUCTURE OF FROG NARRATIVES 113 TABLE 10: STORY GRAMMAR STRUCTURE OF PERSONAL NARRATIVES 136 ix A C K N O W L E D G E M E N T S Firstly, I would like to thank John Nichol for helping me in my frequent struggles with computer technology. I would like to thank John MacVicar for sending me parcels and postcards that made me laugh after a hard day of writing. Robin, Wayne and Faelan also helped me maintain high spirits through the summer of 1990, simply by being themselves and by loving me. Finally, I would like to extend my sincerest thanks and appreciation to Carolyn Johnson, who guided, supported, and worked exceedingly hard on my behalf. Thank you Carolyn and all the many other people who know and support me in my endeavours. x C H A P T E R ONE R E S E A R C H REVIEW AND STATEMENT OF THE P R O B L E M Introduction Stories are an important form of discourse because they often reflect and transmit the most central components of a society's value system, as well as reflecting problem-solving strategies that can be used in everyday social interaction. (Stein & Glenn 1982: 255) Stories and other narrative forms serve many functions within a given society. As well as fulfilling those functions mentioned above, narratives provide a means of preserving culture, explaining phenomena, and entertaining. In addition, the structure of narratives provides a framework in which to organize and reorganize personal experiences. Mandler (1984) claims that stories from many cultures share the same organizational structure because this structure reflects human schematic strategies for processing and understanding events. She notes that people find or impose structure on the events they experience. This structure is schematic in nature and organizes knowledge about events, (and at another level, stories) hierarchically. A schema develops and sets up expectations about events (and stories) based on previous experience. The schema, thus, is a basic building block of cognition and a framework for memory. Schematic knowledge, which must be learned, is used in processing 1 and producing narratives, which consequently should be fundamentally similar for all human beings. But narratives are speech events as well as indicators of cognitive structure, and there is some debate as to whether different cultures share the same structure for narratives. Most attempts to describe narrative structure are based on a single sociolinguistic model, that of the literate Western middle-class society (Brewer 1985; Johnson & Mandler 1980; Stein & Glenn 1982). Because the purpose and style of speech events differs crossculturally, we cannot assume that these descriptions adequately account for the narratives of other cultures. In fact there is sparse but growing evidence to the contrary. I will review this evidence to argue that the structure of narratives told in the traditional style of most Native Indian nations, in particular, is quite different from that described for mainstream North Americans. The purpose of my study is to describe the structure of narratives told by a small group of Native Indian children. Using existing research results as a basis for comparison, I will point out any differences evident between these children's narratives and those represented by standard mainstream descriptions, thereby developing an awareness of potential crosscultural conflicts in style. I chose to focus on children's narratives because crosscultural differences can influence the classroom learning experience -- often detrimentally; narrative discourse figures centrally in the transition to literature, and Native Indian children often do not succeed in formal schooling . Narrative structure provides a framework in which to assimilate new information and is, therefore, fundamental to learning. Experience with narrative discourse is 2 especially important to the development of literacy. Knowledge about stories and story structure helps the reader make predictions and inferences that guide the reading process (Milosky 1987; Smith 1985; Westby 1985). Westby (1985) described narratives as the transition between oral and literate language. Wason-Ellam (1988) argued that storytelling activities are particularly important to Native Indian speakers in this respect, providing them with practice in the language of literacy before pushing them to handle it in written form. This practice is essential because, the greater the divergence between the learners' dialect and the dialect of instruction, the greater the difficulty they have learning to read. And by now there is ample evidence that many Native Indian children do not succeed in school (Toohey 1986; Wasom-EHam 1988). The communication style of the mainstream classroom, which tends to be literate and verbally focused, often differs markedly from the communication style familiar to and used by the student. This is particularly true where different,ethnic groups coexist in the same school system. If the child is not from a primarily literate culture background, a clash of communication styles may occur between the child and the teacher (Philips 1983). An illustration of such a clash come from Scollon & Scollon (1984), who took an interest in the storytelling traditions of the Athabaskan community in which they were living. The Athabakans were viewed as being too brief, cryptic and hesitant in an environment where the model of education demanded detail and logical explanation. Tafoya (1982), too, found that the learning style of Native Indians differed significantly from the learning style modeled at school. The Native people's scheme of learning was to re-cognize what the elders already knew; personal experience was seen as the best instructor. At the mainstream school, 3 individual experience was forced to take a secondary position to the accepted point of view. The result of this clash and the child's lack of apparent success with classroom tasks is often a referral for language assessment and/or learning assistance. In many cases, such referrals are followed by disproportionate and inappropriate placements of culturally different children in language therapy or special education classes (Taylor & Payne 1983). A related point is that ethnically different children often perform poorly on standardized tests because the only norms available are based on the mainstream culture which may not share the children's dialect, world view or rules of social behaviour. Link (1976) reported a case of Spanish-speaking children who were diagnosed as mentally handicapped due to faulty IQ testing with an English-language test. One possible solution to the problem of inappropriate reliance on standardized tests is the use of narrative analysis as a diagnostic tool. Ripich & Griffith (1988) advocate the use of narratives as a means for assessing language development beyond the sentence level. Narratives also provide the means for testing a student's ability to use appropriate linguistic devices to create cohesion and to take into account the needs of a listener. Many researchers have recognized the value of the narrative in understanding the communication skills of school-aged children; however, the narrative structure that is most often used as a guildeline to the assessment procedure is based on the mainstream Western model (Johnston 1982, Lahey 1988, Liles 1987, Ripich & Griffith 1988). Bennett & Slaughter (1983) recognized the respectability that discourse analysis has gained as an assessment tool, but noted that when communication strategies are not shared, misunderstandings often result. 4 Moreover, these misunderstandings are not necessarily the child's failure. This is important to keep in mind because, too often, where the language of the children differs from the language of the teachers (or language specialists), the children become the brunt of discrimination (Scollon & Scollon 1981). We need to cultivate a respect for differences and avoid biased assessment. The communication style of people of a particular culture is part of their identity; it would not be easy or even desirable to replace it with the style of another culture. Hence, we need to become "aware of the conventions governing 'stories' in the students' home community, to appreciate and celebrate particularly skilled or elegant performances" (Toohey 1986), and to credit the students with that skill. My investigation makes an initial attempt to become aware of the narrative conventions of a particular cultural and dialect group, a Coast Salish band of British Columbia. The purpose of the study is to describe the structure of Coast Salish children's narratives according to three different analysis procedures. The subjects available for the study numbered only five and the research literature based on the structure of narratives found among Native Indians -- while suggestive -- was scarce. Therefore, the results of this investigation are presented in a descriptive manner and in comparison to previous narrative studies. In order to understand the structural differences between narratives by children of different cultures, one must be familiar with the structural differences between the narratives by adults of different cultures. The structure of adults' narratives in a particular culture constitute the model structure towards which children's narratives evolve through development. The following sections of this chapter review research 5 pertaining to narrative structure. Specifically, I provide a description of narrative structure of adults in mainstream North American society to familiarize the reader with the "ideal" structure towards which children are expected to evolve in the educational setting. Then, I present a crosscultural perspective on narrative structure to indicate that the mainstream structure is not necessarily the ideal structure of all cultures. The last two sections include the description of the narrative development that is considered normal in mainstream North American society and a crosscultural perspective on narrative development, to illustrate that what counts as "normal" development depends on the children's cultural environment. I extracted three different descriptions of narrative structure -- high point, episodic, and poetic -- and used these as the basis for my three analyses of the Coast Salish children's personal and fictional narratives. The method of the study is described in chapter two. The results are reported for the high point, episodic and poetic analyses in chapters three, four and five, respectively. These results provide a useful indication of the necessary considerations and appropriate procedures for carrying out a more focused study of a larger group of Native Indian children. In addition, they constitute an initial attempt to provide a basis for reducing cultural bias among teachers and speech-language pathologists in their interaction with Native Indian children. Narrative Structure Researchers in such fields as cognition, linguistics and language development have been concerned with the description of narrative structures (Kintsch & van Dijk 6 1978; Rumelhart 1977; Stein & Glenn 1979). The focus of the description has sometimes been the analysis of the narrative form as it is encountered in, for example, conversation or oral storytelling (Labov & Waletsky 1967; Mandler & Johnson 1977; Stein & Glenn 1982). A second focus has been the cognitive representations people have for narratives (Mandler 1984; Stein & Trabasso 1982). These cognitive representations are commonly known as schemas. Schemas for the narrative form have their root in a recall study conducted by Bartlett (1932). His subjects' memory for narratives was marred by omissions, distortions and other changes. To explain this lack of verbatim recall, Bartlett postulated that his subjects relied on a cognitive framework based on prior experiences to aid in the memory task. He referred to these prior experiences as "schemata." This term reflected his assumption that a tight structural organization was the basis of the mental representation of experience. More recent definitions of narrative schemas (story schemas, in particular) have extended Bartlett's concept to specify more precisely the nature of the cognitive structure for narratives. Based on their extensive analysis of stories and story structure, Mandler & Johnson (1977) suggest that the structural characteristics of a simple story from the oral tradition are relatively invariant. Through experience with stories, people develop an idealized internal representation of the parts of a typical story, the order in which these parts may fall, and the relationships between them (Mandler & Johnson 1977). The representation acts as a general framework upon which to hang the content of a particular narrative. This framework guides the 7 listener in comprehension, mental organization and retrieval of the narrative (Stein & Trabasso 1982). The story or narrative schema is the mental structure people use in interpreting narratives. The story grammar or narrative structure is the definition of prototypical elements and the structural pattern observed in narratives collected or encountered in the external environment. Two descriptions of narrative structure follow: the first is an outline of Labov & Waletsky's (1967) definition of the structure of personal experience narratives; the second is an outline of a story grammar based, primarily, on Stein & Glenn's (1982) goal-based story grammar. According to Labov & Waletsky, the narrative is just one way of "recapitulating" personal experience. In relating an experience, the narrator organizes her verbal description to match the temporal sequence of the real events. The structural framework of the narrative serves two functions: a referential one and an evaluative one. The narrator orients the listener to what the narrative is about through the referential function. She communicates the importance of the story, at least in her view, through the evaluative function. The overall structure of the narrative may consist of the following six parts: P A R T QUESTION A N S W E R E D 1. Abstract what was this about? 2. Orientation who? what? where? when? 3. Complication then what happened? 4. Evaluation so what? 5. Resolution finally what happened? 6. Coda The abstract summarizes the entire story in one or two clauses. Not all narratives 8 start with an abstract; some narrators tend to start immediately with orienting information or complicating action. The orientation identifies the time, place, and people of the event to be related; in short, it supplies any background information that sets the stage for the narrative. The orientation can be contained within the first few clauses of a narrative. It is more common, however, to see clauses containing orienting information placed strategically throughout the narrative. The main body of a narrative usually comprises a series of events generally describing the complicating action or complication. These events tend to build to a high point (in terms of importance and/or tension) in the narrative. The evaluation section is rarely self-contained and is often interwoven with the resolution of the high point. The evaluation section is the narrator's opportunity to explain, explicitly or implicitly, the significance of her narrative. The resolution either follows or coincides with evaluative comments. It contains the outcome of the episode, whether good or bad. The coda generally does not add to the essence of the narrative. Rather it serves to bring the listeners back to the present moment and signal the end of a narrative. The evaluation section is a very important part of the narrative. It reveals the narrator's attitude toward the events in the narrative by signalling relative importance of some parts of the narrative compared to others. It is through evaluation that the narrator tries to ward off the question "so what?" ready in the minds of the listeners. Labov distinguishes two kinds of evaluation style: external and internal. External evaluation is the kind that occurs when the narrator stops the flow of her story, turns to the listeners to tell them explicitly how she felt about the events being related. Internal evaluation can occur through a number of devices. The evaluative comment 9 can be embedded into the narrative sequence itself. The narrator can quote herself as having said or thought it at the time of the event; or she can quote it as a third person's evaluation at the time of the event. The evaluation can be conveyed more implicitly through vivid description of the actions of the people involved such that the listeners experience it for themselves and reach their own feelings about the event. These and other devices that momentarily suspend the action of the narrative draw attention to a particular moment within the narrative; they lend importance to that moment. Table 1 contains an example of a personal experience narrative taken from the data of Labov & Waletsky (1967). Each clause of the narrative is numbered. By reference to these numbers I will attempt to analyze this narrative according to Labov & Waletsky's structural definition. Clause 1 corresponds to the abstract of the narrative, summarizing the near death of the narrator. Following this abstract is a fairly lengthy and self-contained orientation section (clauses 2 - 11). The complicating action which leads to the threat on the narrator's life is short and concise in clauses 12 (Then she left a note) and 13 (He came to my hotel). From this point the evaluation and resolution sections are interwoven to the end of the narrative. Evaluation begins at clause 15 (and says "Well,..."), suspending the action at a very critical moment in the narrative, at a point when the narrator could have lost his life. This particular evaluative section extends to clause 17, promoting the narrator as a fast thinker and convincing talker. Clauses 1 8 - 2 2 provide an initial resolution to the threat. Clauses 23 - 25 resolve the danger more definitely at that point in time. Clause 22 is evaluation in the form of an orienting statement (it was a tent show). It 10 TABLE 1 Example of a personal experience narrative, (adapted from Labov & Waletsky 1967: 35-36) (Were you ever in a situation where you were in serious danger of being killed?) 1 I talked a man out of--Old Doc Simon I talked him out of pulling the trigger. (What happened?) 2 Well, in the business I was associated at that time, the Doc was an old man... 3 He had killed one man, 4 or - had done time. 5 But he had a young wife 6 and those days I dressed well. 7 And seemingly, she was trying to make me. 8 I never noticed it. 9 Fact is, I didn't like her very well, because she had - she was a nice looking girl until you saw her feet. 10 She had big feet. 11 Jesus, God, she had big feet! 12 Then she left a note one day she was going to commit suicide because he was always raising hell about me, 13 He came to my hotel. Nice big blue 44 too. 14 I talked him out of it, 15 and says, "Well, we'll go look for her, and if we can't find her, well, you can--go ahead, pull the trigger if you want to." 16 I was maneuvering. 17 So he took me up on it. 18 And we went to where they found her handkerchief- the edge of a c reek-19 And we followed down a little more, 20 And we couldn't find anything. 21 And go back -22 it was a tent show -23 she was laying on a cot with an ice bag on her head. 24 she hadn't committed suicide. 25 but - however - that settled it for the day. 26 But that night the manager, Floyd Adams, said, "You better pack up 27 and get out, because that son of a bitch never forgives anything once he gets it in his head." 28 And I did. 11 (Table 1, continued) 29 I packed up 30 and got out. 31 That was two. suspends action at a moment of uncertainty while adding description of the new setting. The listener at this point does not yet know whether the woman committed suicide or not and must wait in suspense to find out. Clause 24 restates what the previous clause already implied, the woman was still alive. This repetition emphasizes the narrator's relief at that discovery. A more explicit form of evaluation is presented in the third party comment in clauses 26 and 27. Obviously the sentiments spoken by the manager echoed the narrator's own as clause 28 resolves the episode with the narrator's departure. The coda in clauses 29 - 31 reiterates the departure and signals the end of the narrative. Narrative structures similar to Labov's (1972) personal narrative structure have been developed to describe simple stories derived from the oral tradition. Story grammars have frequently been described as a set of rewrite rules with information about generic story structure (Mandler & Johnson 1977; Stein & Glenn 1982). The structure contained within the story grammar as described by these researchers contains a hierarchical network of story categories, with a description of the logical relationships connecting these categories. Both grammars separate the major components of a story into setting and episode. These components with other subcategories are outlined in Table 2. In the analysis of simple stories, these two 12 TABLE 2 Outlines of two story grammars, (derived from Mandler & Johnson 1977 and Stein & Glenn 1982) MANDLER & J O H N S O N SETTING (atemporal) EPISODE BEGINNING (causal) STEIN & G L E N N SETTING (allow) EPISODE INITIATING E V E N T (cause) D E V E L O P M E N T REACTION SIMPLE REACTION (causal) G O A L (causal) G O A L PATH ATTEMPT (causal) O U T C O M E (causal) ENDING (temporal) EPISODE INTERNAL R E S P O N S E (cause) ATTEMPT (cause or enable) C O N S E Q U E N C E (cause) REACTION Note: Words in parentheses indicate the relationships between the subcategories. grammars function in a similar way. Therefore, full description will concentrate primarily on Stein & Glenn's story grammar. The setting introduces the protagonist and provides information about the time and place in which the story occurs. A single episode in a story may contain only one protagonist, one goal, one attempt, and one outcome. It consists of the six 13 subcategories described as follows. The initiating event marks some sort of change in the protagonist's environment, external or internal. This change evokes in the protagonist the desire to achieve some sort of goal. The internal response of the protagonist is usually in the form of an emotional reaction plus a goal and may incorporate the character's thought that causes him to initiate action. This internal response leads to an overt action or series of actions in service of attaining the goal; this is the attempt. The consequence is the outcome of the attempt, whether or not the goal was reached. It could be an event, action or end state. The reaction could be an internal response that expresses the protagonist's feelings about the outcome of his actions; or it could be the occurrence of broader consequences resulting from the outcome of his actions. A simple story, in its most basic form, consists of merely a setting and an episode. Take, for example, the the following "well-formed" story. Setting Initiating event 1. Once there was a big grey fish named Albert. 2. He lived in a big icy pond near the edge of a forest. 3. One day, Albert was swimming around the pond. 4. Then he spotted a big juicy worm on the top of the water. Internal 5. Albert knew how delicious worms tasted, response 6. He wanted to eat that one for his dinner. Attempt 7. So he swam very close to the worm. 8. Then he bit into him. Conse- 9. Suddenly, Albert was pulled through the water into a quence boat. 10. He had been caught by a fisherman. Reaction 11. Albert felt sad. 12. He wished he had been more careful. (Stein & Glenn 1982: 258) 14 The first two sentences provide the setting: the protagonist is a fish in an icy pond. This setting allows the initiating event (sentences 3 and 4) to occur. The fact that Albert spotted a juicy worm lead to the internal response as described in sentences 5 and 6. The goal of having the worm for dinner caused his attempt to capture the worm. His attempt was, unfortunately, successful, enabling the fisherman to catch him. Albert's reaction (sentences 11 and 12) to the above consequence was appropriate yet ill-timed, ending the story in what we presume to be Albert's death. Stories are rarely as simple and straightforward as this one about Albert. In fact many stories involve more than one character, one goal, one attempt, and one outcome. Mandler & Johnson (1977) and Stein & Glenn (1982) have formulated an adequate way to handle many of these more complex stories. They manage the complexity through use of multiple episodes that can be linked together in one of three ways: "and," "then," or "cause." "And" implies that, though the two episodes are ordered in the story, there is no significant temporal order to the underlying events. "Then" indicates that one episode occurs before the other or that one sets up the necessary preconditions for the other to occur. The "cause" link indicates that one episode causes the next to occur. Mandler & Johnson specify in their grammar that a causal link occurs only when one episode is embedded into some portion of the previous episode. For examples of how episode chaining and embedding work please refer to Stein & Glenn (1979) or Johnson & Mandler (1980). The categories and relationships contained within the story grammar not only describe the story as analysed but also reflect the categories and relationships contained within the cognitive representation for stories, within the schema. The 15 schema aids in recall of stories and, correspondingly, studies of story recall provide support for the validity of a particular story schema. Stein & Nezworski (1978) carried out a recall study that supports the notion that prior knowledge for stories influences memory for stories. They asked two groups of adults to remember and reproduce a set of disorganized stories. One group was requested to reproduce the story in an order that matched the subjects' idea of a good story; the other group was requested to reproduce the story in exactly the order of the disorganized original. The first group followed the canonical order predicted by Stein & Nezworski, an order that followed the sequence of inferred events. The second group, despite efforts to remember the story as given, also tended towards the canonical order. In a study comparing memory for oral versus written discourse, Hildyard & Olson (1982) observed that subjects doing the oral recall task often forgot some elements of the story, while other elements not found in the original were "remembered." Memory, in the oral task at least, tended to honour central structural information. Listeners attended to implicit propositions that supported the gist of the story while ignoring irrelevant details provided in the text. This suggests that listeners were guided by an underlying structure containing an abstract knowledge and expectations about the discourse they were expected to recall. Stein & Policastro (1984) designed a study to assess which if any of four different story structure definitions corresponded to a group of teachers' and children's concept of what comprises a story. Rather than require their subjects to remember stories, they had the subjects judge a group of stories on two scales. The first was a simple yes/no judgment as to whether or not the segment qualified a as story; the 16 second was a quality judgment along a continuum of bad to good story. In almost every case, only those texts containing an animate protagonist with motivation or goals specified, an overt action toward the goal, and information about the outcome of that action were given the status of story. A "good" story, on the other hand, required the addition of obstacles and conflict plus some degree of affective response on the part of the protagonist. The story category and the "good" story category correspond quite well to the goal-based episodic schema and to the complex extension of this schema. Crosscultural Perspective on Narrative Structure Mandler & her colleagues argued that the story schema reflects the canonical form of simple stories told by cultures around the world (Johnson & Mandler 1980; Mandler et al. 1980). According to Mandler et al., schematic organization, which is inherent in the story form, is automatically activated in the interpretation of a story. In a story recall study involving a group of Vai speaking people in Liberia, these researchers thus assumed that the schematic organization of simple stories was a universal governing human memory. The group of subjects was divided into four subgroups: unschooled children, nonliterate adults, schooled literate adults, and unschooled literate adults.1 The pattern of story recall was similar across all subgroups and it also reflected the pattern observed in a study of literate American subjects using the same stories. While Mandler et al. conceded that cultural 1 The unschooled literate adults in this study had learned to read Vai, Arabic or English despite a lack of formal schooling. 17 familiarity with the plot and social themes within a story would influence recall, they still maintained that the structure was more important than the content of a story. Moreover, they argued that story structure appeared to be the same across cultures. Unlike Mandler et al. (1980), Kintsh & Greene (1978) argued that story schemas are culture specific. Kintch & Greene carried out a study in which American university students wrote summaries of Euro-American folktales and Alaskan Indian myths. The summaries of each subject were rank ordered according to how well they appeared to reflect the main events of a story that the raters did not know. The summaries of the Euro-American folktales were judged to be better than those of the Alaskan myths. Kintsch & Greene interpreted this finding to be a function of the fact that both subjects and raters were unfamiliar with the structure of the Alaskan myths. This structure was based on a pattern of four units and did not contain the same degree of temporal and causal linking as did the Euro-American tale. Without a schema for this unfamiliar structure, the subjects were less adept at summarizing the gist of the Alaskan myths and the raters were less willing to accept these summaries as good abstracts of a story (Kintsch & Greene 1978). Kintsch & Greene (1978) reported another experiment in which a Euro-American fairy tale and an Apache folktale were each retold five times in a chain: the first subject heard the original and told his version to the second, the second told the third and so on. The Euro-American fairy tale survived the five retellings relatively intact, while the gist of the Apache tale was more easily lost with retelling. Kintsch & Greene argued that subjects' familiarity with a particular story structure facilitated comprehension and recall. 18 Brewer (1985), in a survey of story conventions in the oral tradition, levied criticism at story recall studies as a means of validating the psychological reality of story schemas. He pointed out that theories of story structure based on the story grammar tradition fail to distinguish event and narrative schemas from story schemas per se. Studies of recall for naturally occurring goal-directed events have produced similar results to those for stories. Brewer therefore suggested that there is no way to tell at which level crosscultural differences or similarities are occurring. In fact, as simple stories often follow the temporal sequence of the underlying events, he suggested it is more likely that event structure, rather than discourse structure, was guiding the subject's interpretation and recall of stories in studies such as Mandler et al's. Schemas regarding the expected organization of events and characters do guide in the comprehension and recall of stories and narratives; they also guide in production of narrative forms. Tannen (1982) looked at narratives generated by Greek and American women based on a film depicting a series of simple events. The Greek women created better "stories" constructed around a theme. They omitted details that did not relate to the theme and drew on their own experiences in making judgments about the behaviours exhibited in the film. They treated the narrative task as an interactive event with their audience, using familiar expressions based on shared knowledge to conjure up images appropriate to the theme. The American women interpreted the task differently. They narrated the events in the film in a decontextualized manner, reporting on the events and activities in the temporal order depicted in the film. They did not evaluate the behaviours they witnessed, but 19 attempted to report as many details as they could remember. The two groups focused on different aspects of the narrative interaction: the Greek women depended on shared experience to make their point, while the American women depended on verbal description. Tannen (1982) explained the differences in task performance in terms of a continuum from oral to literate interaction styles. According to Tannen, the Greek subjects' focus on interpersonal involvement in the experimental situation stemmed from an oral tradition. On the other hand, in keeping with a literate style of interaction the American women viewed themselves as subjects in an experiment. They responded to the situation as a nonpersonal event, describing the film in an objective manner. Each group performed according to culturally based conventions. As further evidence for crosscultural differences in interactional focus, Tannen discussed an analysis of conversational narratives told over dinner by New Yorkers of Jewish background and by non New Yorkers (not of Jewish background) to discover that, in making the point of their stories clear, these two groups of people exhibited entirely different styles of narration. The Jewish New Yorkers emphasized interpersonal involvement and focused on their attitude toward the event rather than the event itself; the non New Yorkers emphasized the message content, making explicit the details of the event they thought necessary to make their point. The non New Yorkers, when they made evaluative comments, tended to stop the narrative in mid flow to state explicitly how they felt about the episode being related. The New Yorkers tended to convey their evaluation of the episode implicitly without stopping 20 the flow of the narrative. These tendencies correspond to Labov's (1972) external and internal evaluation styles 2, respectively. Labov analyzed the personal experience narratives of inner city Blacks, from preadolescents to adults, according to the overall narrative structure outlined in section 1 of this chapter: abstract, orientation, complicating action, evaluation, result and coda. Though the overall structure of the stories he collected from this group of people was similar to that of middle-class white Americans, Labov did uncover stylistic tendencies that set the two groups apart. The differences lay primarily in the narrator's use of evaluation to convey the point of the story. Unlike the tendency reported for middle-class Whites to use external evaluation, the inner city Blacks used internal evaluation. The Black narrator tended to indicate his response to the incident by such means as building the tension within the description itself such that the listeners experienced the event for themselves and experienced their own response to it. Or, he quoted his sentiment about the situation as though it had occurred at the time of the event. Lack of explicit statement about the point of a story seems to occur in many cultures around the world. In the discussion so far, we have seen that inner city Blacks, Jewish New Yorkers, and Greeks use this strategy effectively in the creation of stories in and out of conversational contexts. Chambers Erasmus (1988) observed, in her experience with Native Indians, that the point of a story was often 2 To remind the reader, in external evaluation, the narrator stops the flow of the story to explicitly tell the listeners how he feels about the events of the story. In internal evaluation, the narrator's attitudes are woven into the story itself, either implicitly as a vivid description of the events or as quoted speech or thoughts of the narrator or third persons as having occurred at the time of the event. left unsaid. Moreover, where people of middle-class Euro-American culture would expect a logical argument, Native Indians might offer a personal narrative. To illustrate this observation, Chambers Erasmus offered her interpretation of a personal narrative by a Dene elder, Lazarus. 3 He did not make his point directly. Rather, he used metaphor, repetition and parallel construction to paint a picture of years of personal experience (a valuable source of knowledge and authority among the Dene Indians). In this way, he persuaded his audience that the Mckenzie Valley pipeline would endanger the future of his people. Chambers Erasmus described the narrative as a way of responding personally to a social situation. Lazarus was able to "make his point" without losing respect for the autonomy of each of his listeners. Chambers Erasmus stated that her interpretation of his speech was tentative and that any member of the audience must remain open to the potential meaning which lies behind the words. Perhaps because Euro-American cultures are unaccustomed to searching beyond words for meaning, oral narratives or speeches by Native Indian people are often perceived to be incoherent, disconnected, or rambling. The attitude that speeches by Native Indians lack coherent structure is an unfortunate stereotype. Cooley & Lujan (1982) observed that there was a strong similarity in the style of speeches made by the various Native Indians they encountered; moreover, these Native Indians could easily discern good from bad speeches in this same style. These two researchers were led to believe that the speeches they heard exhibited a 3 Lazarus spoke during a hearing of the Mckenzie Valley Pipeline Inquiry conducted by Justice Thomas Berger in 1975-76. definite structure and that the structure was very different from the one with which Euro-American cultures are familiar. In a closer analysis of speeches by Native Indian college students and elders, Cooley & Lujan found that the relationships among topics and among points under a topic heading were not overtly marked. The topics tied together only to the degree that each one referred to the. overall subject of the speech. Though the speeches were very cohesive, predominantly through the use of devices such as reference, the point of each topic was left, as in Lazarus' story, implicit. To the Euro-American audience, these were very difficult speeches to follow. This is not due to lack of speaker competence, however; rather, the structure of these speeches does not fit the Euro-American set of expectations. Part of the stereotype of rambling narrator can be traced to a seemingly excessive use of expressions such as now, then, now then, and then, and so to join an apparently unrelated series of events. However, these connectors are but a poor approximation to the formulaic expressions of the oral tradition and the original language of Native Indian narratives (Scollon & Scollon 1981, Toelken & Scott 1981). These expressions, which serve to mark the structure of the narrative, reflect a high degree of narrative skill. Formulaic markers are but one of the features of verbal form that Toelken & Scott (1981), and Kroeber (1981) refer to as texture.4 In addition to formulaic expressions, texture includes verbal devices such as parallel structure and 4 Toelken & Scott (1981) described texture as "any coloration given a traditional item or statement as it is being made. In narrative it would certainly include linguistic features, as well as any verbal manipulations which evoke, suggest, and describe, or those which in any way qualify, modify, expand, or focus the rational structure by reference to or suggestion of emotions, mores, traditional customs and associations, aesthetic sensitivities and preferences, and so on." (1981: 82) 23 repetition of words, phrases and entire events. The conscious use of texture to create a definite structure, a structure that organized the language into verses and stanzas rather than paragraphs, set up a literary pattern that was more akin to dramatic poetry than to prose fiction (Jacobs 1959; Scollon & Scollon 1981; Toelken & Scott 1981). In retranslation and reanalysis of stories by a Navajo elder, Yellowman, Toelken & Scott (1981) argued that the earlier translations, which attempted to put the stories into prose form, lost much of the power of the original story. This power was closely tied to the poetic structure of the originals, which organized the language into lines, verses, stanzas and scenes. Scollon & Scollon (1981) argued that the poetic framework provided a cognitive hierarchy of memory (scenes), perspective (stanzas) and emphasis (verses) that guided the listeners in their interpretation of a story. Scollon & Scollon provided a clear description of Toelken & Scott's (1981) four poetic groupings as observed in the stories of the Northern Athabaskan Indians. As well, the Scollons interpreted the function of each grouping. The Ijne served to pace the narrative through pausing and rate of speech; the verse indicated grounding with the last clause in the verse generally marked as foregrounded, as supplying the main point; the stanza provided perspective in that a new point of view was taken with each new stanza; and the scene involved a major change in location, time, season, or actors. Effectively employed, the structure of stanza, verse and line within the scene caused a progression towards the main actors and their activities while at the same time recalling the details of the previous scene. A high degree of cohesion was thus produced. 24 Within the tight poetic framework were a series of motifs or metaphors in the form of characters and behaviours (Tafoya 1982). These motifs were deeply entrenched in the shared knowledge of the culture and were used to draw the appropriate image to mind without the need to resort to verbose explanations or descriptions (Kroeber 1981). For example, in many coastal Native Indian cultures Raven is the trickster figure. "She never uses force. She used her wits and her magic, and sometimes she outsmarts herself. Raven is often good, sometimes bad; Raven is always beautiful. Above all else, Raven loves beautiful things, especially bright, shiny things."5 All this information and more was derived from mere inclusion of Raven in the story. Storytellers did not have to explain; their listeners already knew. Because a motif conjured up a history of shared experience and knowledge, the point of a story could remain implicit. Toelken & Scott referred to the story as the surface structure beneath which lay a deeper accumulated sense of reality. The listeners were not told overtly the true meaning of the story; they were guided, through the structure of the tale, to find it for themselves. By refraining from stating the meaning of a story explicitly, the narrator allowed the listeners to draw on their own personal experience in interpreting the story and developing attitudes about the characters and their behaviours. The structure and content of the Native Indian myths and legends described in this section reflect the value system of the cultures from which they originate. 5 This is one interpretation of the image or motif of "Raven" included in How Raven  freed the Moon by Anne Cameron (1985: 5). Scollon & Scollon (1981), during their experience among the Chipewyan, developed a description of the value system they observed. Describing what they called "Bush Consciousness," they noted a strong sense of individual respect, an attitude of nonintervention, and the integration of knowledge through personal experience. Storytellers lived by this consciousness. In weaving a story, at least from the oral tradition of the Chipewyan, narrators held a deep respect for their listeners' independence. They interacted with their listeners, providing them with just enough information by monitoring their reactions. In this way the imposition of the narrator's view of reality could occur simultaneously with respect for individuality. The ideal story in Native Indian cultures was the one in which the least was said but the most conveyed. In this way, according to Jacobs (1959), the narrator is allowing the listener the maximum degree of imaginative creativity. Narratives of Native cultures appeared to differ in many ways from those of Euro-American cultures. Native Indian storytellers appear to interact more with their listeners (in a way that influences the ultimate version of a story) than do Euro-American storytellers. The structure of a Native Indian narrative may be foreign to the Euro-American culture's focus on attempt, obstacle and consequence. Jacobs (1959) suggested that many White people when confronted with a Native Indian legend might be left thinking, "so what?" The fact that the motifs contained within a Native story were shared by those within the culture and were repeated across a number of stories allowed for a parsimony of description. A person of Euro-American background, unfamiliar with the messages and details encompassed by the motifs, may lack the ability to follow a skillfully crafted story into which much humour and powerful messages were woven. The story may have had lost effect on Euro-American cultures but worked well among Native Indian listeners to evoke emotional and philosophical attitudes about the behaviour presented in the story. As the stories were effective in this way, Toelken & Scott (1981) suggested that the story acted as a model of a world view in the community. This was true in the sense that the implicit meaning of the story conveyed standards of behaviours and valued human characteristics. Tafoya (1982) described how the narrative structure itself reflected the value system of Native Indian cultures (e.g. Navajo, Chipewyan). Many Native cultures respect each person as an individual and value a noninterventionist approach to teaching. To explain overtly the meaning contained within a story denies children or adults the right to reach that meaning in their own way in their own time. To tell children some piece of information directly intrudes on their opportunity to discover it for themselves. Tafoya pointed out differences between the Native learning style and that of the Euro-American world. Native Indians integrate their knowledge in a holistic way based on each individual's personal experience (highly valued as a source of knowledge) to reach a coherent sense of the world. In the Euro-American world, an individual's personal experience comes second to an accepted point of view, that of experts in the particular field of concern. Native Indian stories, which lead the listeners to their own interpretation of the meaning of the story, echo this philosophy of learning. Stories play an important role in the lives of people all over the world. An individual's expectations about stories, whether these be anecdotal stories told in conversation or stories based on fictional events, guide the listener in his interpretation and understanding of the storyteller's tale. There is some argument as to whether the story schema -- the set of expectations and knowledge about stories --that guides Euro-American cultures in the interpretation of a story is applicable to other cultures. Narrative Development Labov (1972), in his description of personal experience narratives, briefly examined one aspect of narrative development. He looked specifically at the evaluation category of his overall structure for developmental changes. A clear development of evaluative skill was apparent across three age groups: preadolescent (10-12 years), adolescent (13-16 years) and adults. The results showed a decrease in the speakers' dependence on nonverbal strategies (gestures, vocal tone, nonspeech sounds, or intonation) to convey their meaning and an increase in their ability to use verbal strategies (word order, or specific words such as emphatic adjectives). With age, the narratives reflected an increase in the speakers' command of a diverse variety of syntactic devices to relay evaluative information.6 Although Labov did not carry out-an analysis of the developmental pattern of the overall structure of the narrative form, other researchers have attempted to fill this gap (Haslett 1986; Kernan 1977). Kernan (1977) used Labov's narrative structure to examine developmental change in the personal experience narratives of black American girls in three age 6 See Labov (1972: 393-396) for the specific details of his developmental analysis. 28 groups: 7-8 years, 10-11 years, and 13-14 years. Kernan analyzed the narratives for the inclusion of the six elements of Labov's overall structure (abstract, orientation, complicating action, evaluation, resolution, and coda) as well as for the distribution and content of these structural categories. With age, the proportion of the narrative devoted to the orientation section appeared to increase with a corresponding decrease in the proportion devoted to the narrative proper (complicating action and resolution). Increasingly, older subjects included information related to mood and motivation in their orientation sections as well as general background information (character, place and activity). According to Kernan, this additional information tended to set the scene more effectively for the listeners. Thus the significance of the older girls' narratives was easier to appreciate, while the younger girls' stories were difficult to interpret due to a lack of essential background information. Developmental changes in the organization and content of the evaluation section were also apparent. While the youngest girls stated their feelings about the events directly or implied them through the action of the narrative, the older girls used direct quotation to imply their feelings about the event. The older girls had a greater variety of narrative strategies available to them and tended to use lexical emphasis more. These findings about the evaluative element of the narratives appear to overlap with those reported by Labov. Kernan (1977) also evaluated the narratives for the presence and nature of logical connections between the narrative categories. He found that causal relationships between events were more apparent in the narratives of the oldest group of subjects than those of the younger two groups. The general pattern he 29 described was a decrease in the use of independent or temporal connection with a concommittant increase in the use of causal connections. Haslett (1986) studied a younger group of subjects (4, 5, 6, and 7 years) than Kernan (1977). In Haslett's study the children told narratives based on fiction rather than personal experience narratives. Like Kernan, she analyzed these children's narratives for the presence of the structural categories described by Labov (1972). Haslett found that the older children included orientation, complicating action and evaluation elements more often than the younger children. She reported a general trend toward greater structural complexity and hierarchical organization with development. The developing hierarchy was apparent in the greater use of causal connection between narrative segments and the structural embedding of one event of segment into another. In Haslett's (1986) study, the narratives told by 4-year-olds tended to lack overall coherence and text cohesion. Resolution and evaluation sections were typically missing. The 5-year-olds' stories were more complex, but the central plot line of the story was still unclear. With the 6-year-olds came the introduction of direct dialogue, which often reflected the feelings of the characters of the story. Seven-year-olds told stories of even greater complexity; these involved series of events that were ordered according to both temporal and causal relationships. Although these were fantasy narratives rather than personal experience narratives, the observed developmental progressions shared some similarities with Kernan's (1977) results. Orientative and evaluative commentary improved with age; a corresponding increase in the degree of story coherence was evident in both studies. 30 The results of Kernan's and Haslett's studies, taken together, indicate that the development of the structural complexity of narratives spans many years. Peterson & McCabe (1983) used both Labov's (1972) narrative structure and Stein & Glenn's (1982) story grammar to analyze the personal narratives of a wide age range of children (from 3 1/2 to 9 1/2 years). 7 Peterson & McCabe refer to Labov's structural analysis as the "high point" analysis because of its focus on the high or dramatic point of the narrative. The typical structure of the adult narrative has been referred to as the classic pattern (Labov 1972). This pattern contains many but not necessarily all of the elements of Labov's overall structure. It builds to a high point, dwells on this point with evaluative elaboration, and then resolves it. Peterson & McCabe (1983) described the development of narrative structure towards the classic narrative that they observed in the following way. They called any sequence that was too confused to be understood a disoriented narrative. An impoverished  narrative was limited to the extent that the high point was not recognizable. The chronological pattern was one in which a series of successive events was described while in the leap-frogging pattern the narrative tended to jump from event to event within a single experience. The central theme was generally inferable but was not made explicit. Finally, just short of the classic pattern is the ending-at-the-high-point  narrative described an experience which was truncated just before its resolution. In the study by Peterson & McCabe (1983), narratives by 4-year-olds tended to fit the leap-frogging pattern. A few of the narratives by this age group, however, were 7 Peterson & McCabe(1983) analyzed the stories of these children using a third analysis technique they refer to as "dependency" analysis. It will not be covered in this paper because of its focus on syntactic rather than structural development. 31 as unstructured as the disoriented structure. Five- and 6-year-olds tended to tell narratives that ended at the high point and children over 6 were capable of telling narratives that matched the classic pattern. As with the patterns observed by Kernan (1977) and Haslett (1986) described above, Peterson & McCabe noted definite changes in narrative structure with increasing age. Orientations were more differentiated and more usefully placed; abstracts and resolutions were more frequently included; a richer variety of evaluations was apparent; and structural organization was increasingly focused around the high point. With developmental age the narrative approached the classic pattern and incorporated a greater degree of structural complexity. Peterson & McCabe (1983) also applied an episodic analysis to the same set of personal narratives. As a guide for their analysis, they used the developmental pattern containing seven major types of story structure observed previously by Stein & Glenn (1979). From least structured to typical mature structure, these story types were as follows. A descriptive sequence was a sequence that merely described a character or the surroundings; it contained no identifiable temporal or causal connections. The action sequence described a set of actions listed in chronological order; however, there was no logical reason for these actions to occur in the order that they did. In other words, there was no causal connection linking the individual events together. The next level of narrative development was the reactive sequence in which certain changes or actions automatically caused other changes. There was no apparent goal or planning on the part of the protagonist in this type of narrative. The abbreviated episode was the simplest form of goal-based sequence. In this narrative, the plans and goals of the protagonist existed but had to be inferred by the listener. The complete episode contained explicit description of the aims and planning of the protagonist, while the complex episode involved further elaboration of the episode by one of a number of techniques. For example, this elaboration could occur by embedding a reactive sequence or another complete episode into the original complete episode of the story. Or multiple plans (with or without an embedded complete episode) may be applied to the problem delineated in the story. Though less common, even in the stories told by adults the interactive episode was sometimes produced. The existence of more than one protagonist, each with their own goals and motivations, could be accounted for structurally through a complex of embedded sequences and episodes. According to Peterson & McCabe's analysis, only the youngest of the subjects (4 years) produced descriptive and action sequences, while subjects at all ages created stories that were reactive sequences. Children as young as 4 years old were capable of producing abbreviated episodes. Abbreviated episodes by the youngest children involved only physical events, while the older children included both events and motivating states. A few 4-year-olds produced complete episodes while all of the 8- and 9-year-olds were capable of creating a complete episode. None of the youngest subjects told stories that were complex episodes. The occurrence of complex episodes increased with age, particularly between the ages of 7 and 9. Interactive episodes appeared only in the stories of the oldest children (8-9 years), and these were relatively few. 33 The episodic analysis of personal experience narratives indicated that there was a general progression toward the adult story grammar. Many aspects of story structure and content improved with age. Problem solving episodes increasingly became a part of the narratives. The motivation and planning involved in reaching the goal of the narrative were included more often in the narratives of older children. The consequences of the actions were also described more often. In the development of story structure, causal relationships between the different events and the different categories of the overall structure were more clearly delineated in the narratives of older children. Once again, a more hierarchically structured story schema was evident with increasing age. In a study by Stein & Glenn (1982), children in kindergarten, grade three and grade six generated stories inspired by beginning stems such as "Once there was a big grey fox who lived in a cave near the forest" (Stein & Glenn 1982: 270). Stein & Glenn analysed these stories specifically for inclusion of the categories of a well-formed story or complete episode (setting, initiating event, internal response, attempt, consequence and reaction). Episodic stories were generated more frequently by the older children. In addition, the inclusion of initiating events, internal responses, attempts, and reactions increased with age. However, only the increased inclusion of the attempt category was statistically significant. Stein (1986) examined children's stories using as a guideline the set of story structure types outlined above: descriptive sequence to interactive episode. Children in kindergarten, grade three and grade five generated stories based on beginning stems such as the fox stem. In her analysis, Stein (1986) assumed that a goal-based story with both an obstacle and an ending (a complete episode with ending) was the prototypical well-formed story. Only 48% of the stories generated by children in kindergarten were goal-based episodes compared to 80% of the grade five. Within these stories there were many different levels of complexity, all of which exhibited increase with age. There were increases in the inclusion of goal-based action, obstacles, endings, episodes, and causal structure, including causal embedding. The older children were more likely to refer explicitly to the feelings and motivations of the characters. Across ages, the protagonists described in the stories were motivated most frequently by interpersonal conflict, while intrapersonal conflict, the inner struggles or conflicts of the protagonist, did not enter into the stories of these children. Page & Stewart (1985), discussed the importance of story grammar knowledge and experience with stories to learning to read and to participating in classroom-based activities. They noted that younger children are typically poorer at story recall tasks than older children, particularly when these tasks involve disorganized story material. Page & Stewart argued that this is because the younger children are less able to call upon a story schema to guide their comprehension of the material. Recall of specific story categories changes with age. For example, though most school age children know that settings, initiating events and consequences are important parts of a story, only older children will have acquired the addition of goals, attempts and endings to their story schemas. It appears, then, that increasing age and story experience leads to an increase in structural complexity of the story schema as well as an increase in the versatility with which children use this schema to guide their thought and performance in a variety of situations. 35 In an attempt to describe the structural development of narratives, researchers have applied Labov's "high point" analysis and Stein & Glenn's "episodic" analysis to both personal experience narratives and fantasy stories (Haslett 1986; Kernan 1977; Peterson & McCabe 1983; Stein 1986; Stein & Glenn 1982). Peterson & McCabe (1983) describe these analyses as being two different perspectives on the same form. Superficially, the two narrative structures may appear to be strikingly similar. Peterson & McCabe caution, however, that the categories of Labov's overall structure do not necessarily correspond to those of Stein & Glenn's grammar. For example, the "orientation" of the high point analysis is not always comparable to the "setting" of the episodic analysis. Peterson & McCabe claim that the two structural analyses capture different aspects of narrative form and content. High point analysis captures overall coherence of narratives. It focuses on the personal significance of the narrative, placing its center around meaningful events. The emotional context of the story is emphasized through its focus on the evaluation category. Episodic analysis, on the other hand, represents the cognitive aspects of the narrative events. The degree of causal connection between events, along with the planning and problem solving of the characters, is captured by this analysis. Though both analyses describe narrative development in terms of increasing structural complexity, a "good" narrative according to one analysis may not be quite the same as a "good" narrative according to the other. The focus of this dicussion has been the descriptions of narrative structure put forward by Labov (1972) and Stein & Glenn (1982) because these are well 36 documented structural analyses and are the structures I intend to use to guide my analysis of narratives by Native Indian children. There are, however, many other analyses with different perspectives on narratives and narrative development. Applebee (1978), for example, described narratives as being built around two central processes, centering and chaining, while Botvin & Sutton-Smith (1977) described narratives in terms of two basic structures, primary and secondary units. The overall developmental pattern across analyses appears to one of increasing structural complexity, structural embedding, and causal relationships. Nevertheless, to change from one structural analysis to another is to change the focus of the stories' structural description. Crosscultural Perspective on Narrative Development The development of story structure within a single sociolinguistic group (Euro-American culture) has been described from many different perspectives, each resulting in a different pattern. Stories told by adults of different cultures have been observed to have different structures depending on the cultural affiliation of the storyteller. Perhaps, then, it would be reasonable to expect that the development of narratives in one culture will not necessarily follow the same pattern as narrative development in another. Berman (1988) collected stories told by Hebrew speakers in three age groups: from 3 to 5 years, from 7 to 12 years, and adults.8 The stories were based on a 8 Berman's (1988) study is part of a crosscultural study of the development of storytelling skills. The study is being coordinated by Dan Slobin at the University of California, Berkeley and Ruth Berman at Tel Aviv University. 37 picture book about a boy and his dog and their adventures in search of a missing pet frog. Berman found that the narratives she collected showed an overall increase in length with age. More significantly, reference made to the overall plotline of the story increased to age 9, with a sharp increase at about age 7. By overall plotline, Berman meant the onset of the problem (missing frog), the goal (search for and find the frog) and the end or resolution of the events of the story. These plot components are strikingly similar to the story components Stein & Glenn (1977) call initiating event, attempt and resolution. In addition to inclusion of these story components, the overall structure became more hierarchical in nature as age increased. Multiple episodes were organized around a central theme or goal with an increase in episodic embedding and causal relationships between events. The pattern observed among these Hebrew speakers is strikingly similar to that observed in the American studies outlined above. This study, however, is not representative of all non Euro-American cultures or even all Euro-American social groups. Heath (1983) looked at the stories of children from two distinct communities in the Piedmont Carolinas. She described Roadville as a white working class community of mostly textile mill workers. Trackton was a black working class community. Previously, this community's livelihood was made through farming; at the time of writing, Trackton residents also worked the textile mills. The stories (in these cases, personal narratives) told in one community developed from completely different social conventions and in a completely different style than those told in the other. Children in Roadville grew up learning to tell "true" stories about themselves. They were reprimanded for falsehoods or exaggerations and were expected to follow 38 a strictly chronological order in retelling events. These children were not expected to linger on their feelings about an experience or evaluate motivations or consequences of the events being related. As a result they did not develop a mature use of the evaluative devices Labov (1972) described as being part of a good narrative. Ultimately, the mature narrative in the community of Roadville began with a formulaic opener followed by chronologically ordered and purely factual events, and closed with a summary statement or moral. In Trackton, on the other hand, the germ of a story was based on an actual event, but the details and outcomes were greatly embellished in such a way as to highlight the storyteller's cleverness or accomplishment. Children were gradually socialized into telling stories filled with evaluative information. Adults of the community rarely began stories with formulaic openers or ended them with formal closing. They did, however, frequently include a brief abstract. Other differences between the two communities lay in the conventions for story telling. On the one hand, Roadville children learned to wait for an invitation to relate a personal story; on the other, Trackton children learned to be aggressive and competitive at taking the floor and trying to maintain the attention of their listeners. Storytelling events in both communities tended to be part of social interaction and therefore reflected the (not-always-unspoken) conventions and rules of other forms of verbal interaction. In a similar vein, Watson-Gegeo & Boggs (1977) argued that stories of Hawaiian children develop naturally from other forms of interaction: teasing and verbal dispute routines. In particular, Watson-Gegeo & Boggs observed that the content and 39 contrapuntal structure of sexual narratives among these children echoed the content of sexual teasing and the structure of verbal arguments. These narratives were very much a part of social interaction in that several speakers were usually involved in the mutual development of the plot. Passers-by were often incorporated into the story in an attempt to draw them into the audience. Indeed members of the audience were very important to the development of the story; they were expected to support or challenge details of the story in a interactive experience. Scollon & Scollon (1984) have taken great interest in the oral tradition of the Northern Athabaskans. During their work with Northern Athabaskan people, they grew to realize the importance of audience response to the storytelling event. Scollon & Scollon analyzed several renditions of a Chipewyan tale called "His Grandmother Raised Him." The different versions of this tale ranged from one told as long ago as 1888 to another told as recently as 1977. Though these versions varied tremendously in length, they were highly similar in overall structure and ordering of the details. In fact, the Scollons suggested that the most "parsimonious version abstracted] the central theme of each section of the story as found in the longest versions" (Scollon & Scollon 1984: 174). The variation in length of this story was judged to be related to the audience and the storytelling situation. As further support for this theory of audience effect on the rendition of a story, Scollon & Scollon (1984) referred to two versions of a personal narrative told by the same storyteller, once in Chipewyan and again in English. Oddly, the Chipewyan rendition, which neither of the Scollons could understand, was patterned around four structural units typical of Athabaskan stories, while the English rendition was structured around three. The Scollons attributed the difference to the fact that they were an unresponsive audience during the Chipewyan telling and a responsive audience during the English version. Their expectations about stories (a framework based on three structural units) guided their interaction with the storyteller. He, in turn, responded according to their reactions to his tale. As mentioned before, Athabaskan stories are structured so as to lead the listeners to their own interpretation of the plot.9 The storyteller provides background information and the audience response marks their registering of foregrounded material. As a result, the storyteller often does not have to finish off elements of the story; the audience has already carried out this function. Thus the storyteller provides the abstract of the story and the details are developed jointly in a negotiated process with the audience. Scollon & Scollon (1984) suggested that the oral tradition of the Athabaskans, in which the listeners are gently led to an interpretation of the story, is part of a lifetime of learning and face-to-face interaction. From early childhood, Athabaskan children are socialized into a negotiated form of verbal interaction. The conventions of adult-child interaction in the Athabaskan community contrast with the typical Euro-The overall structure of Athabaskan stories was described in the second section of this chapter. To recap, the abstract of the story is contained in the scenes of the story which are the organizational units grouping story information into themes. Within each scene, the stanzas are grouped to mark changes in perspective in the narrative. The verses are structured within each stanza to highlight important plot related information and the lines pace the rhythm of the story interaction. These structural units are hierarchically organized, moving from scenes at the top of the hierarchy to lines at the bottom. 41 American interaction that develops around vertical construction. 1 0 In vertical construction the original speaker is forced to provide additional information to clarify his message. In face-to-face interaction in the Athabaskan community, this kind of interaction might appear disrespectful. Rather than directly request added information, listeners form their own interpretation of the speaker's message. This form of interaction was reflected in the parent-child interactions observed by Scollon & Scollon. Rather than request further information from the child, parents glossed what the child said, providing their (the listeners') interpretation of the child's comment. This glossing contributed to socializing Athabaskan children to a noninterventionist attitude in human relationships. The structure of comment and interpretation in social interaction had some correspondence with the structure of stanzas in stories; the storyteller made a comment filled with background information and the listeners glossed that comment with foreground information. If the response of the audience indicated that more information was needed the storyteller provided further information. As described by Scollon & Scollon (1984: 180): The vertical construction can be roughly characterized as follows: the child says something; the caregiver resonds, asking for further clarification of expansion; the child provides another utterance that counts as this expansion. The child's first utterance is often seen as a topic or given information and the second as a comment or new information. The interaction rides on a three-part exchange, child-adult-child. The overall effect is an upgrading of the information content of the child's whole utterance.... As an example we can look at one of the simpler vertical constructions (from Scollon 1976c). Child: Kimby. Mother: What about Kimby? Child: Close. 42 Scollon & Scollon (1984) carried out a study in which they had five teenagers retell a contemporary story 1 1 about moose hunting. The original story was structured according to the Athabaskan pattern of four units as follows: Paragraph 1: Introduction a. foreshadowing of trouble on return home Paragraph 2: b. setting, orientation Paragraph 3: Section 1, starting out on the moose hunt Paragraph 4: Section 2, the moose hunt a. sighting moose b. moose killed by Tony c. moose killed by Ruth d. butchering, packing, loading in the boat Paragraph 5: Section 3, trouble on the return a. run out of gas Paragraph 6: b. towed back in i. getting into dead water ii. hearing a boat in the distance iii. shooting as a signal to the boat iv. rescue, getting towed back Paragraph 7: Section 4, sharing the meat a. cleaning, cutting, smoking b. sharing among other villagers Paragraph 8: Epilogue (Scollon & Scollon 1984: 188) The students retold the events of the story in the form of a succinct abstract of the original containing an introduction plus the four major units of the narrative proper. Two students also included an epilogue. Though the students remembered and included all four sections of the story, they often placed the events differently in the overall hierarchy of the story structure. Most of the students played down the hunt itself in their retelling and played up the troublesome return trip. This, Scollon & 1 1 This story, entitled Moose Hunting on the Yukon (Ridley 1973), was the outcome of a student writing project at the University of Alaska. 43 Scollon referred to as boiling the story "down to an abstract and cook[ing] it up again along lines of the student's own sense of the situation" (1984:191). Cronin (1982) looked at story recall by another group of Native Indian children. She had Cree and Metis children in grade six read and recall a traditional Cree narrative, which again was based on a pattern of four: four episodes, four situations. She also had them read and recall a Euro-American folktale which was structured around three major units. In this comparative study, the Cree and Metis children remembered the Euro-American folktale better, in terms of categories and content of the story. However, the Native children recalled the Cree narrative better than would have been expected of children of Euro-American background. The Cree narrative differed greatly from the canonical order of a well-formed story as defined by Stein & Glenn (1977). Though the Native children tended to condense the four part structure into three, they rarely inverted the order of story elements on recall. Cronin's conclusion based on this study was that these Cree and Metis children could understand and recall the traditional Cree story better than non-Natives would be able to do; however, she noted that they have been well socialized to the Euro-American story schema through exposure to T.V. and at school. Kay-Raining Bird & Vetter (1988) analyzed stories generated by Chippewa-Cree children. In this study, the researchers provided the children with a beginning stem similar to those provided by Stein & Glenn (1977). They used the fox stem and created their own eagle stem. The latter was included because the eagle is considered important by the Chippewa-Cree people. The children in the study ranged in age from 5 years to 11 years old and were divided into two groups on the basis of 44 the degree of Native traditionality in their environment. In the structural analysis of stories generated by these children, Kay-Raining Bird & Vetter found that all age groups used both temporal and causal connections, and all incorporated goal-based action into their stories. With age, these children tended to include obstacles, two or more episodes and causally connected episodes more frequently. The nontraditional group tended to use more complex story structures (obstacles, multiple episodes) than the traditional group of Chippewa-Cree children. Nevertheless, the overall pattern of narrative development seemed to match the pattern Stein & her colleagues found in their developmental studies. Kay-Raining Bird & Vetter (1988) also carried out a detailed content analysis of these stories. Differences between the traditionality groups were observed in the post-obstacle attempt categories. Attempts in the stories by the nontraditional group tended to involve more searching, rethinking the problem and goal abandonment than the attempts in stories told by the traditional group. Children in the nontraditional group also created more fantasy stories than the traditional group, whose stories were more real to life. Fourteen of the stories from the total corpus contained strikingly Native themes such as description of the old way of life, the intervention of spirits, the cycles of life, and the cycles of the seasons. Kay-Raining Bird & Vetter (1988) also discovered that, unlike the children reported by Stein and her colleagues, the older Chippewa-Cree children incorporated an increasing degree of intrapersonal conflict into their stories. It is unclear to what extent narrative form, content and even function differ between different cultures. It is even less clear the extent to which these differences 45 will show up in the development of narrative skill. The difference may be subtle and manifest itself only on a particular story oriented task such as story recall. It may show up in overall structure or in particular word choice. Again the degree and type of difference will vary from culture to culture, perhaps from Native community to Native community. Subtle differences may not be easy to define, but if they exist they could have a profound effect on children's socialization and on their school experience. As Toohey (1986) observed in reviewing Heath's study of communication styles in Roadville and Trackton communities, "children from nonmainstream homes are linguistically socialized in ways that were not valued or recognized by the school" (Toohey 1986: 138). Expectations for Coast Salish Narratives Based on my review of the literature, I expected to find that the Coast Salish children arranged the events of their narratives in an order quite different from the one reported for mainstream North American society. I expected the action to precede the explanation (or the complicating action to precede the orientation and evaluation, in high point terminology) rather than the reverse. I predicted that the children would represent relationships between events implicitly rather than explicitly, that they would organize their narratives into stanza-like units which would be marked by morphemes and intonation. Another prediction was that the narratives would be divided into four main sections rather than three and that setting and consequence information would be omitted. Overall, I expected the Coast Salish children's narratives to strike me as being aimless and unstructured on first reading; on deeper analysis, I expected to find a structure unlike the one reported in the mainstream literature, but one that provided a coherence to the narratives that I had not originally recognized. 47 C H A P T E R TWO METHOD Design The study of normal and disordered language development beyond the sentence level involves an increasing use of narrative, both as a descriptive and as an assessment tool (Lahey 1988). Much of the available literature describing the "normal" pattern of narrative development in English is based on a single sociolinguistic model, that of the mainstream North American culture. Basing judgments of normal vs. disordered language skill on the implications of this literature can be problematic and perhaps detrimental when dealing with children of nonmainstream cultures. Storytelling conventions are culture specific and, in the field of speech-language pathology, a cultural perspective is required to provide nonbiased assessment and appropriate recommendations. Hence, the purpose of this study is to describe the narrative style of children from a particular cultural and dialect group, a Coast Salish Indian band of British Columbia, and to determine if there are notable differences in style between these narratives and those previously reported for mainstream North American children. Personal experience and fictional narratives were collected from five Coast Salish children aged between 5 and 7 years. They live on a reserve just outside an 48 urban centre on the coast of British Columbia. Schooling and commercial endeavours were carried out primarily within the urban centre. The personal experience narratives were elicited by asking the children to describe an experience in which they had hurt themselves. This topic was chosen because it proved to be the topic about which all the children were able and eager to relate a narrative. The fictional narratives were elicited using the wordless picture book, Frog, where are you? (Mayer 1969), which consists of 24 pictures depicting a boy's search for his pet frog. As part of a large crosscultural study of narrative development based at the University of California, Berkeley, many researchers (Bamberg 1987; Berman 1988; Slobin & Bocaz 1988) have used this book to elicit narratives because it allowed them "to compare the ways in which speakers of different ages, and speaking different languages, talk about the same events" (Slobin & Bocaz 1988: 6). My rationale for using this book is similar; it allowed me to analyze five Coast Salish children's ability to talk about the same events, events known to the investigator. Although the fictional narratives these children generated were originally scaffolded by the picture book, the children varied in what aspects of the pictured story they noticed and/or chose to include in their own renditions. The book depicts a plot replete with temporal and causal relationships, as well as humour presented through visual ambiguity, surprise and mishap. A page by page description of the book is included in Appendix A. In general, the story describes how the boy and his dog go searching for the frog in a forest. Along the way they encounter various animals and experience several adventures before finally locating the missing frog. 49 The analysis procedure was based primarily on one outlined by Lahey (1988), which includes both an episodic analysis based on the findings of researchers such as Stein & Glenn (1982) and a high point analysis based on the work of researchers such as Labov (1972). Reference was made to Peterson & McCabe's (1982) descriptions of the overall structural levels and internal components of the narratives. Comparisons were made between the results of these analyses and those reported in the relevant research literature (see chapter 1). In addition, a poetic analysis of the Coast Salish children's narratives according to Scollon & Scollon's (1981) description was attempted. Subjects The five Coast Salish children who participated in the study are members of a small band living on a reserve close to a coastal urban community. Their approximate ages at the time the narratives were collected are presented in Table 3 below. To preserve anonymity, the band is not specified and the names used in this study are pseudonyms. The language of the community and of each home was English; only Annie was familiar with a few words in a Coast Salish language, that of her grandfather. All of the children were, or would be, attending a predominantly mainstream school in the urban community. Annie had not yet entered school, but the other children had had one or two years of formal education. In addition, Susan had attended two years of preschool before entering kindergarten. All five homes had televisions and the children watched programs regularly. The children had all participated in Coast 50 TABLE 3 Age of Subjects Child Brian Susan Donny Adam Annie Age 8;6 7;5 6;5 6;5 5;0 Salish cultural events such as war canoe races, lacrosse and dances. Only two (Donny and Brian), however, had significant experience with traditional Coast Salish stories. Adam was the only subject who had a non-native father; however, his father did not live with the family and had negligible influence on Adam's development. Adam was receiving some extra classroom assistance from a learning assistance centre. Data Collection Narratives were generated by the subjects in their homes with a parent or caretaker present throughout the data collection session. Prior to contacting the families who participated in the study, I sought and gained permission to carry out the study from the Coast Salish band council. Collection procedure was as follows: First, I presented the parents with my study proposal and discussed with them what the study entailed and what I was requesting of them and their children. I gave them consent forms to read over and encouraged them to ask questions about the study and their involvement. They then signed the consent forms. 51 Second, I carried out a brief interview with the parents based on a questionnaire that I had developed. The questions were designed to give an indication of the degree of cultural traditionality and language influences the children experienced at home. These influences were described briefly above in the Subjects section. The parents were encouraged to add any other information they thought was relevant to the concept of cultural influences. Third, I attempted to make the children feel comfortable with me by chatting and playing with them a little before introducing the practice story. This practice story was based on another picture book, A boy, a dog, a frog, and a friend (Mayer 1969). Together, each child and I looked through the picture book. Then, with encouragement and modelling by me, the children made up a story looking at the pictures of this book. Fourth, I introduced Frog, where are you? (Mayer 1969). The children were given the book and told to look through it with the intent of narrating the story out loud. When ready, they went through the book again telling the story to me (and parent) who acted as an attentive listener. The children were given an opportunity to tell the story again with the book. Then a final retelling of the story was requested without the picture book as a guide. Fifth, I asked each child if s/he had ever been hurt. If the child did not offer a full story of the experience without prompting, I prompted with further questions such as "How did it happen?" or "What happened next?" or I merely said, "Tell me about it." 52 All the Frog, where are you? narratives (frog narratives) and the narratives about an injury (personal narratives) were audiorecorded on high fidelity tapes with a Marantz PMD 220 professional cassette recorder, and an external A K G D-300 microphone for later analysis. All of the families openly welcomed me into their homes. The children, without exception, appeared comfortable with me and with the task requirement. Only the youngest subject, Annie, had difficulty completing the story telling exercise without distraction. Analysis Transcriptions were made of the audiorecordings in the following manner. Each narrative was first listened to in its entirety. The narrative was listened to again and transcribed verbatim. The audiorecordings were listened to again to check the transcribed narratives for errors and to add pauses and intonation patterns. On the written transcripts each line of type represented a clause; each clause was numbered. The narratives were divided into clausal units because the clause is a linguistic unit that is easily identifiable and a convenient unit for reference during the analyses. I followed Berman & Slobin et al.'s (1986) basic definition of a clause in their transcriptions. A clause is a "unit that contains a unified predicate ... a predicate that expresses a single situation (activity, event, state)" (Berman & Slobin et al. 1986: 37). Most clauses contain only one verbal component, but may contain infinitives or participles which are complements of modal and aspectual verbs (e.g. started calling). Complements that were subordinate to verbs of saying or thinking were treated as 53 separate clauses from the subordinating verb as follows: 31. and he said 32. "Phew! Something stinks." (Donny, Appendix D: 1) "Verbless clauses that are critical to the storyline should be coded on a separate line" (Berman & Slobin et al. 1986: 40). For example, clauses 33 and 34 were placed on a separate lines in Brian's frog narrative: 33. {urn} and then he saw the two little frogs 34. and then {with} with eighteen babies. (Brian, Appendix D: 1) As a reliability check, a second coder listened to the tapes and noted discrepancies with transcription of lexical items, false starts and reformulations for all personal narratives and frog stories told without the book. Both coders relistened to the tape and resolved the discrepancies. The coders did not differ on division of the story text into clauses or judgment of clause-terminal pitch direction and pauses. The analyses were based on Lahey's (1988) narrative assessment procedure with reference to Peterson & McCabe's (1983) descriptions of overall narrative structures and of the internal narrative components. An analysis worksheet was developed from Lahey's narrative assessment worksheet with additions adapted from Peterson & McCabe's description to serve as a guide to the present analyses. I chose the worksheet format because it is similar to the format suggested by Lahey (1988) for determining narrative interventions goals in a language assessment situation. I thought it would be valuable to experience this procedure as a potential one for use in a clinical or educational setting. This worksheet is included in Appendix B. By answering the questions on the narrative analysis worksheet, using criteria 54 defined be Lahey (1988), Peterson & McCabe (1983), and Stein & Glenn (1982), I determined the internal components of each narrative and assigned it to a category of overall structure. The following descriptors were drawn from Lahey (1988), Peterson & McCabe (1983) and Stein & Glenn (1982) to serve as criteria for making decisions regarding the analyses. High Point Analysis: Criteria for Determining Narrative Components The numbering of the criteria in this and the following sections on high point and episodic analyses corresponds to the numbering of the questions on the worksheet in Appendix B. A. A beginning signals that a narrative is about to begin. 1. Stylized beginnings are either typical story book openers, such as "Once upon a time" (Brian, Appendix D: 1), or attention getters, such as "Look at" (Donny, Appendix C) and "You know what." Clauses such as these indicate that the speaker has further information to relate, usually a story or an experience. 2. An abstract is a summary of the narrative that is to follow, such as "I banged my knee out on one of those bars out there" (Susan, Appendix C). The narrative itself goes on to explain how the event(s) in the abstract happened and to provide details and consequences of that event. B. The orientation contains information about participants, location, time, general conditions ( e.g. weather, lighting, noise, etc.), ongoing events (e.g. "I was trying to 55 get my cousin's shoe a-way up there" Annie, Appendix C), and/or imminent events (e.g. "I hadda get away somehow" Donny, Appendix C 1 ) . In the present analysis, a narrative was considered to have full orientation when the events that occurred in the narrative made sense given the background information available to the listener. In a well developed narrative, the orienting information is usually clustered near the beginning so that the significance of the ensuing events is clear. C. Complicating action is a chronologically ordered series of events that lead up to and include the crisis of the narrative. Clauses that contain complicating action are usually presented in the simple past tense, as in the following sequence: "I forgot which was my back brake and I pulled my front brake and I flipped off my bike" (Brian, Appendix C). Labov (1972) refers to these clauses as restricted clauses; that is they "recapitulate a single event which occurred at some discrete or restricted point in time" (Peterson & McCabe 1983: 31). D. Evaluation is the means by which the narrator conveys the point of a narrative; it communicates why the narrative is being told or what to think about a particular person, place or thing. In his frog narrative, Donny evaluated the boy's boot and in some ways, the boy's action regarding his boot in the following clause, " so the boy looked up the stink boot" (Donny, Appendix D: 1). Labov (1972) notes that" to 1 This clause is an example of clauses that serve more than one function according to the high point analysis. Donny's statement, "I hadda get away somehow," oriented the listener to the imminent events in which his high point event took place. It also evaluated the situation through the use of a compulsion word hadda which emphasized the urgency he felt at the time. 56 identify the evaluative portion of a narrative, it is necessary to know why [the] narrative...is felt to be tellable" (Labov 1972: 370). Some narratives relate inherently unusual or dangerous events. In other narratives, there is a social pressure to prove that the events being related were unusual or dangerous. Labov describes a number of evaluative devices that provide proof that an event was unusual, weird, hilarious or terrifying. Peterson & McCabe (1983) isolated twenty-one techniques for conveying evaluative comment. Of these techniques, the narratives in the present analysis contained eight different types. Prosodic stress, repetition of words or phrases (e.g. "got a scrape here and here and up here and over here and on here" Annie, Appendix C), and gratuitous terms or lexical quantifiers such as very, just, and really (e.g. "I banged it real hard", Susan, Appendix C) are comparable to Labov's evaluation type called intensifier. Compulsion words, as in "I had to rush up to the hospital" (Adam, Appendix C), and negatives, which serve to compare potential but unrealized events to real ones, fit into Labov's evaluative type, comparator. Causal explanations, such as "Cause we were playing tag" (Donny, Appendix C) were what Labov terms explicatives. Tangential information is orienting information provided in the middle of complicating action that contains further background information necessary for the appropriate interpretation of the high point event. Words per se include particular lexical choices that convey, in and of themselves, an evaluation of the situation. "I wiped out on my bike" (Brian, Appendix C) portrayed a situation more graphic and more severe than merely falling of a bike. Most of the techniques described above either directly evaluate the high point or suspend the narrative action at such a point as to call attention to the high point of the narrative. The use of the above techniques was counted as evaluative in the Coast Salish children's narratives if it focused attention on or somehow elaborated on the high point event. E. The resolution is the portion of the chronologically ordered events that follows the high point event. The specific events which constitute the resolution resolve the crisis in some way and convey information about how the experience ended. For example, the resolution in Donny's personal narrative, "They [at the hospital] took the rock out and hadda give me something to put on it," (Donny, Appendix C) resolved the crisis of having fallen on the gravel and seriously scraped his knee. The resolution, like the complicating events, is comprised of restricted clauses. F. The ending was one way that the narrator could let his listeners know that he had finished his tale. In some cases it was succinct, such as "finished" (Donny, Appendix D: 1); in others, it tied the narrative together or provided long range consequences to the narrative, perhaps even bringing the listeners back to the present as in Donny's personal narrative "and hadda give me something to put on it. It's still in the washroom. I'll go and get it?" (Donny, Appendix C). High Point Analysis: Criteria for Determining Overall Structure The terms used to refer to the different narrative structures according to high point analysis were developed by Peterson & McCabe (1983). Although these terms are evaluative in nature, I chose to use them to reduce the complexity of interstudy comparison. The labels of overall structures, here and in the episodic analysis, are 58 presented in order of lowest to highest development. In other words, the 'basic' patterns are more highly developed than the 'primitive' patterns. In the former group, the 'classic' is more highly developed than the 'ending-at-the-high-point' narrative; in the latter group, the 'leap-frogging' narrative shows the greatest development and the 'disoriented' shows the least. A. Primitive narratives have a structure that is not built around a recognizable high point. 1. In a disoriented narrative, the narrator is either confused about the events s/he is relating or misuses language such that contradictions arise and the narrative cannot be understood. The disoriented narrative may include abstract, orientation, action that does not build to a high point, and evaluation; however, the descriptions are too vague or confused for the listener to be able to understand the connections between the different components and thereby understand the point of the narrative. 2. The impoverished narrative is one in which there are too few clauses to recognize an analyzable pattern or in which there are only two events which are reiterated and evaluated several times. This narrative is very limited in that a high point is not recognizable and resolution is omitted. The orientation may be adequate and an evaluation of the events may be included, but the action does not build to and dwell on a high point. 3. A narrative that contains more than two events, presented in order of occurrence, with no structuring of these events around the high point is considered a chronological narrative. There may be abstract, orientation, action, and evaluation in 59 these narratives, but this is merely a description of successive events. 4. A leap-frogging narrative contains a sequence of events in which various major events are omitted. The leap-frogging narrative is more than a simple description of chronologically ordered events; it is a description of events within an integrated experience. However, the narrator omits important information such that entire events must be inferred by the listener. In contrast to the impoverished narrative it includes a recognizable high point, as well as possible resolution. B. The basic pattern, according to high point analysis, contains a series of complicating actions which build up to a crisis that is emphasized evaluatively. The events of the narrative are structured around the high point and emphasize its significance. 1. An ending-at-the-high-point narrative is one in which the actions build to the high point with evaluative comments which dwell on the crisis, but the narrative does not contain a resolution to the crisis. This narrative must contain complicating action (including a high point) and evaluation, and may also include abstract and orientation. However, without a resolution the narrative seems to end too soon; it does not answer the question, "What finally happened?" 2. The classic narrative is one in which the complicating action builds to the high point, the evaluative comments dwell on this high point, and the high point is resolved. If either the evaluation of the high point or the resolution is missing the narrative is not considered classic. So the classic narrative must contain complicating action (including high point), evaluation and resolution; it may also contain abstract, orientation, and ending, but these elements do not have to be present. Episodic Analysis: Criteria for Determining Narrative Components A. The setting contains an introduction of the protagonist plus some description about the physical, social or temporal environment in which the narrative events occur. If the narrative contained enough information at the beginning of the story for the following events to logically occur then the narrative was considered to have a setting. For example, the orientation in Susan's frog narrative was adequate to set the scene for the events that followed: 1. a little boy caught a frog 2. he put him in a jar 3. it was night time 4. and the little boy was tired 5. he went to sleep with the little dog. (Susan, Appendix D: 1) On the other hand, the orientation in Adam's frog narrative was not adequate: 1. the kid was awake in the dark time. (Adam, Appendix D: 1) B. The initiating event is the description of some sort of change in the protagonist's environment. This change must be sufficient to evoke a desire or a need in the protagonist to achieve some sort of goal; for example, Susan's frog story contained a clear initiating event -- "and then he woke up to check on the frog and the frog was gone" (Susan, Appendix D: 1). If this change was either explicitly or inferrably present, the narrative was considered to have an initiating event. 61 C. The internal response is the protagonist's mental and/or emotional response to the initiating event. It is very important to the structure of the narrative because it has been "proposed that story knowledge is basically organized around the goal of the protagonist" (Stein & Glenn 1982: 257). The statement of a goal is one component of the internal response, other components may be emotional reactions and thoughts or plans about how to reach the goal. If a goal and/or plans were explicitly or implicitly indicated in the narrative, as in Brian's frog narrative, "Where are you froggie? I want you to come back" (Brian, Appendix D: 1), it was considered to have an internal response. ( D. Attempts are the overt actions that the protagonist carries out in a direct bid to achieve his goal. It is the external response or external representation of the internal response to the change in his environment. In many children's narratives either the internal response or the attempt category is omitted; the category that is included carries the responsibility of providing the information about goals and how they are to be achieved. In Susan's frog narrative there was not internal response; however the boy's first attempt indicated what his goal was: 9. so he got up 10. he got dressed 11. and then he started looking all over for the frog. (Susan, Appendix D: 1) E. As a result of the protagonist's attempts there is a consequence which indicates whether or not the goal was attained; in other words it indicates the success or failure of the attempt. The little boy was successful in Susan's frog narrative --"then the little 62 boy found a frog, too, and they lived happily ever after" (Susan, Appendix D: 1). The consequence is one point in a multiple causal chain at which a new episode can be embedded. The consequence acts as the initiating event for the new episode by setting up the necessary preconditions for that episode or, more typically, by acting as its direct cause. F. The reaction category can contain information such as the characters' emotional or cognitive responses to the goal attainment or events that occur as a result of goal attainment. Sometimes the reaction is in the form of a moral or long ranging consequences of the narrative's resolution. Episodic Analysis: Criteria for Determining Overall Structure A. An additive chain is a set of narrated events that have no apparent order. There are neither temporal nor causal relationships connecting these events, which can, therefore, be reordered without disrupting the meaning of the narrative. The additive chain is one in which the character and his or her surroundings are described. This description can contain internal and external states, natural occurrences and habitual actions of the characters. B. A temporal chain is a sequence of events which are presented in chronological order. Although one event may necessarily precede another in time, it does not 63 cause the subsequent action to occur. 2 Narratives that relate a series of actions temporally ordered, with no indication of causal connection between events, are considered temporal chains. C. If a problem (i.e. initiating event) was present in the narrative and subsequently became the focus of narrative action, then the narrative was considered a causal  chain. 1. Reactive chains contain changes in the narrative environment that generally cause other changes to occur; however, there is no evidence of goals. Reactive chains generally included settings, initiating events and reactions, but the changes that occur in the course of the narrative have nothing to do with the goals or attempts of a protagonist; rather, the changes are automatic. 2. Abbreviated chains include at least a motive for action (an initiating event or an internal response) and a particular consequence that either does or does not attain the protagonist's goal. The goal may not be explicitly stated and the aims of the protagonist are, at most, inferable. 3. A goal-based chain is one in which a definite goal, on the part of the protagonist, can be surmised either from the internal response or from the attempts to reach a goal. A goal-based chain includes setting, initiating event, internal response and/or attempt, and consequence. 2 In contrast to this definition of chronologically ordered events, Trabasso et al. (1989) considered this type of temporal sequence (i.e. one event is the necessary precursor of another) as causally connected. They found that their "criterion of necessity, in the circumstances of the story, distinguished causal from noncausal relations" (Trabasso et al. 1989: 1). 64 4. A goal-based chain with an obstacle is the same as the goal-based chain described above except for the addition of an obstacle (some physical or emotional interference) which intervenes between the attempt to attain a goal and actual attainment. An obstacle often leads to a change in attempt strategy which means the inclusion of another episode in the narrative (see D. below). D. A multiple causal chain is one which contains more than one episode. An episode, according to Stein & Glenn (1982), consists of the initiating event, internal response, attempt, consequence and reaction. Only three of these categories are necessary to minimally represent the events of an episode; these are the initiating event, internal response or attempt, and consequence. The episodes can be combined in an additive, a temporal or a causal fashion. A narrative can be made up of more than one of the above structures. If it combines any number of structures A through C, it could be considered a multiple structure story; in the present study, I assigned multiple structure narratives to the most complex level clearly attained in the narrative. Analysis Procedure Both the personal and the frog narratives were analyzed according to high point and episodic analyses. When the analyses were completed, the results were summarized in tabular form. During the analysis, I felt that (with its emphasis on 65 evaluative information) the high point analysis was most appropriate to personal narratives, while episodic analysis (with its focus on goal-based action) was most appropriate to fictional narratives. For this reason, the discussion of the results of the high point analysis centred around the personal narratives, while discussion of the results of the episodic analysis centred around the frog narratives. Poetic Structure Analysis The narratives of the present study were also analyzed according to the poetic structures described by Scollon & Scollon (1981). Because each narrative was considered to have only one scene - only one major location, season, activity and/or group of important participants - the analysis focused on the smaller units: stanza, verse and line. Gee (1988), in his analysis of the personal narratives of two American girls (one white and one black), judged that the stanza was the most important unit for structuring the narrative. A stanza contains narrative information from a particular perspective. A new point of view, a change in anaphoric reference, new action, a major shift in the flow of the narrative, non-plot advancing commentary or orientation, or a departure from expectations signals a change in stanza ( Gee 1988; Scollon & Scollon 1981). The juncture between stanzas is marked by grammatic closure and falling or final intonation at the close of the preceding stanza, a brief pause, and a lexical marker (e.g. and, and then, but, or so in English) at the beginning of the next stanza (Scollon & Scollon 1981). 66 Verses are framed in a manner similar to that of the stanzas -- with grammatic closure, falling intonation, and a pause, but without the lexical marker. The verse signals grounding, in that the initial clauses of the verse provides background information against which to interpret the new information presented in the last clause or two of the verse. The line, according to Scollon & Scollon (1981), is all the information presented between pauses. Its function is to pace the narrative. In the narratives of the present study, it was very difficult to determine the lines by relying solely on this information; therefore, reference was made to Gee's (1988) interpretation of the line. According to Gee, the line is an idea unit; it contains a single piece of new information, most often in the form of a single clause. The idea unit carries a unitary intonation contour and is separated from other idea units by a slight pause. The process of simultaneous planning and production of speech are reflected in the combination of idea units and false starts, but Gee suggests that the simple clause might be "the basic linguistic unit underlying this process" (Gee 1988: 388). Gee therefore organized the narratives of his study into an "ideal structure" in which most lines were simple clauses. I used the intonation patterns at the end of each clause and grammatic closure, as well as possible lexical markers, to determine how to divide each narrative into verse and stanza units. The semantic content of each unit was then scrutinized to see if it matched the units of grounding and perspective. 67 Criteria for Determining Poetic Components: Line, Verse, and Stanza A. Line. In the present study, I used Gee's (1988) concept of idea unit to guide my division of the narratives into lines. The idea unit, according to Gee, was a short spurt of speech containing a single piece of information. It had a unitary intonation contour and was often, though not always, bounded by a pause. I did not attempt to remove "false starts" (including excessive use of and urn, and, and and then), pauses, or unusual intonation from the Coast Salish narratives. Although these seeming hesitations appeared to reflect narrator insecurities and speech errors, they may have, in fact, been markers of hierarchical structure (Cronin 1982; Scollon & Scollon 1981, 1982). B. Verse. The verse included a group of lines or clauses that occurred following and up to (and including) a line that ended with both falling or final intonation and grammatic closure; in other words, this would be like the end of a sentence in standard English. The listener was not expecting more information in that unit because the idea had been completed grammatically and the narrator did not signal, via nonfalling intonation, that there was more to follow. In Susan's frog narrative, the initial four clauses made up two verses; falling intonation is indicated by a back slash (\) following the last syllable of the line and grammatic closure is indicated by a period (.); verses are separated by two carriage returns: 1. a little boy 2. caught a frog V 68 3. he put him in a jar \. 4. it was night time \ 5. and the little boy was tired \. (Susan, Appendix E) Often in the narratives of young children, lines start with the conjunction and. This makes it less clear how to assign grammatic closure, especially when and is sometimes used as a substitute for correlatives and causatives, such as while and so. Although final intonation is an indicator of grammatic closure in standard English, it was not appropriate to assume this relation in the present analysis. If the ands of the present sample were not apparently functioning as correlatives or causatives and were removable without disrupting the meaning or the grammatic structure of the lines, grammatic closure was attributed to the preceding line. In the following example from Adam's frog narrative, the ands in parentheses were considered removable. Where and was a substitute for another conjunction, an appropriate conjunction was included in brackets after the and: 14. (and) he yelled in the hole 15. and [so] the mouse came out \. V. DOG B R E A K S BEEHIVE 16. andth-17. (and) he the dog started to bark at the bee 18. bee nest \. 19. (and) the urn 20. he he went over to the tree 21. and shook the tree. 22. and [until] it fell down 23. and broke \. (Adam, Appendix E) Once the verses were determined according to intonation and grammatic closure, I 69 focused on the content of these established units and the change (or lack of change) in content between these units. At this point in the analysis, each unit was required to provide a new piece of information (foreground) that directly contributed to the main points of the narrative in order to still be considered a verse. This new piece of information may or may not have been embedded in background or orienting information. According to Scollon & Scollon (1981), the clause is either foregrounded or backgrounded in its entirety. This is similar to Labov's (1972) distinction between narrative or restricted (foregrounded) clauses and free (backgrounded) clauses. In Athabaskan, the last clause of the verse is formally marked as foregrounded; therefore, the verses in the present analysis were viewed from this perspective. Sometimes it appeared to me, content-wise, that some verses, established according to intonation and grammatic closure, contained more than one piece of foregrounded information. However, dividing up the established verses on the basis of my impression felt arbitrary and seemed to be an infliction of mainstream standards on a piece of discourse that may not conform to mainstream (or adult) expectations at all. Therefore, although I decided it was acceptable to merge two of the established verses into one on the basis of content, I did not think it acceptable to divide a single unit into two on the basis of content. C. Stanza. Stanzas are groups of one or more verses. The structural indicators of stanza boundaries (i.e. falling intonation and grammatic closure to close a stanza, and a lexical marker to open a stanza) were the focus of the first attempt to divide the narratives of the present study into stanzas. I checked each verse boundary for 70 lexical markers; where these occurred, I tentatively assigned a stanza boundary. In some of the Coast Salish narratives, obvious lexical markers were not present and the assignment was difficult. However, in Susan's frog narrative, there were appropriately positioned lexical markers such as so and and then. In the following clauses taken from Susan's narrative, the verses are separated by two carriage returns and the stanzas are separated by three carriage returns and were given numbered headings: II. F R O G HAS D ISAPPEARED 8. and then he woke up to check on the frog 9. and [but] the frog was gone \. III. BOY S T A R T S S E A R C H 10. so he got up. 11. he got dressed. 12. (and) then he started looking all over for the frog \. 13. (and) the frog wasn't anywhere \. IV. EXIT H O U S E T H R O U G H WINDOW 14. so he went to the window. 15. (and) he opened the window up. (Susan, Appendix E) Then, as with the verses, the content of the established stanzas was reviewed. An individual stanza had to contain information from a particular perspective. At the stanza boundaries I checked for a change in point of view, anaphoric reference, or action. If such a change occurred, if there was a shift from plot advancing clauses to orienting or commentary clauses at the boundary, or if there was a departure from expected events, then the boundaries were confirmed. If the boundary seemed to split up clauses that revolved around a single action, point of view, and/or contained 71 the same referent, then the boundary was removed. Again, I tried to avoid splitting the originally established stanza into smaller units, according to my interpretation of the content, due to the danger of inflicting my mainstream expectations on the narrative; however, I did decide it would be acceptable to remove a few boundaries to create larger units according to my content analysis. 72 C H A P T E R T H R E E HIGH POINT ANALYSIS High point analysis "captures narrators' divergence from the time-line of their real experience to tell their listener what it all meant to them" (Peterson & McCabe 1983: 61). Because the high point analysis emphasizes the narrators' emotional response to their experience, it was considered most applicable to personal narratives. In these narratives, personal meaning is more important than it is in retelling fictional narratives. Therefore, the focus of this discussion will be the Coast Salish children's personal narratives, with a brief review of their frog narratives told without the picture book. The children's personal narratives appear in full in Appendix C, while their frog narratives appear in Appendix D. Clause numbers in the following discussion correspond to the numbering in the appendices. I begin this chapter with a description of the Coast Salish children's personal narratives and a comment on the overall structure to which they were assigned. I then turn to a discussion of the narrative components. Under five separate headings (abstract, orientation, complicating action, resolution and evaluation), I present the results of the present study, compare them with results of relevant research and summarize conclusions about the Coast Salish children's narrative development in relation to this research. Following the discussion of the personal narratives, I briefly 73 describe the overall patterns of the frog narratives and make some general comments about the narrative components included in these narratives. Before I present the results of the high point analysis, I would like to discuss the difficulties encountered both in the transcription and the analysis of the Coast Salish data. As a reliability check on my transcriptions, a second coder listened to the audiorecordings of the children's narratives. For the transcriptions of Brian's, Susan's and Donny's personal narratives, agreement was 100%, whereas, for the transcription of Adam's and Annie's personal narratives, agreement was reached for 98% and 89% of the numbered clauses, respectively. Disagreements concerned clause-interrupting reformulations and a few lexical items. There was 100% agreement on clause divisions. After discussion, we reached full agreement on the transcription of Adam's narrative, but there was still 11% uncertainty about Annie's narrative. The second coder also analyzed two of the narratives according to the high point analysis. She was not in full agreement with my overall structure assignment of Susan's personal narrative, but was willing to accept my arguments for that assignment. Inter-coder disagreement is not unusual in an analysis such as this. In Peterson & McCabe (1983), the authors disagreed on 13% of the overall pattern assignments. Personal Narratives Elicitation of personal narratives is a complex task. A narrator's performance is 74 influenced by many contextual features. It is often difficult to provide prompts that indicate interviewer interest without providing the narrator with the interviewer's expectations about narrative structure. For the most part, I provided nonspecific prompts such as oh or mhm. However, there were a few occasions on which my response prompted the narrator to tell more than s/he otherwise would have done. This response tells the narrator that the story told so far is not complete. Description of Overall Structure Table 4 shows the overall structure of each narrative and the narrative components according to the high point analysis, as well as the total number of clauses. The criteria for determining the presence of the narrative components can be found on pages 55 through 58 and the criteria for assigning the narratives to an overall structure on pages 58 through 61. As can be seen from Table 4, two of the Coast Salish children (Donny and Adam) produced classic narratives, while one other (Susan) produced a narrative that had most of the components of a classic narrative, but was weak in some areas and therefore was assigned to the leap-frogging level. Donny's personal narrative was considered a classic type because Donny described complicating actions leading up to a point where the complication reached a crisis. Before providing a resolution to that crisis, he evaluated it fully. In addition, he provided an abstract and sufficient orientation (in the form of ongoing events and evaluation of those events) to the situation in which the high point occurred. In short, Donny included all the necessary 75 TABLE 4 High Point Structure of Personal Narratives Subjects Brian Susan Donny Adam Annie Overall Structure Disoriented Impoverished Chronological Leap-frogging Ending-at-the-high-point Classic X X X X X Components Beginning Stylistic Abstract X X X (X)* (X) Orientation Limited Full X X X X X Complicating Action Build-up Crisis (High Point) X X (X) (X) X X (X) Evaluation Implied Stated X X X X X X (X) Resolution X (X) X X Ending Stylistic Consequences (X) (X) X Total Number of Clauses 8 18 22 20 12 * Parentheses indicate that elements of this feature are present, but it was not fully realized. 76 components of a classic narrative. His abstract provided both a quick summary of the high point and how it happened with orienting information of where and how the crisis occurred (e.g. "and at Musqueam, I fell on gravel running too fast" Donny, Appendix C, clauses 1 - 2). Much of the rest of the narrative is evaluative information and Donny used a great variety of devices to relate why the event happened and how serious it was. For example, he used a variety of intensifies such as gestures, prosodic stress, and lexical quantifiers depicted by or associated with the italicized words in the following clauses: 3. it was about this big, mom... 6. so I hadda get away some how... 17. and it was bleeding too much. In explaining why he should need to run too fast, Donny included comparators in the form of a modal and a negative modal as follows: 6. so I hadda get away some how 7. I don't wanna get tagged 8. and be it [Is that what he'd do to you?] 9. cause we were playing tag. Another modal showed up in clause 19 to indicate how severe the injury was: "[they] hadda give me something to put on it" (clause 20). Donny also used a correlative in the abstract (clause 2) and an explicative in clause 8. Labov (1972) considered these departures from straightforward sentence structure -- intensifier, comparator, correlative, and explicative -- to be important indicators of narrative development. Although Labov's preadolescents ( 9 - 1 3 years old) used intensifiers and comparators quite frequently, correlatives and explicatives were relatively rare until the adolescent 77 years. This would suggest that Donny used evaluative techniques skillfully and was highly developed for his age. His resolution and coda not only provided information about what occurred as a result of the high point, but also brought the listener back to the present ("[they] hadda to give me something to put on it. It's still in the washroom. [Oh, really?] I'll go and get it," clauses 20 - 22). Adam didn't really provide an abstract for his narrative except elliptically, as an answer to my question, "Did you hurt yourself any other time?" Adam responded, "On my lip." (Adam, Appendix C, clause 1). Orienting actions, rather than complicating events, were provided as a build-up to the high point of the narrative. Clauses 2, 5, and 6 are fully orienting, while clauses 3 and 4 provide some orientation in describing the complicating action: 2. I was over at {urn} that old house 3. and I fell off the {urn} 4. we're 'avin' a race up the stairs 5. and I was standing down real close to the edge of the little balcony 6. and there was glass down below. Following this orienting build-up, Adam provided a quick succession of high point action and resolution in three short clauses ("and I fell down and I hit my lip and I got stitches on my lip," clauses 7 - 9). Although most of Adam's evaluative clauses (italicized in the clauses below) followed this description of high point and resolution and therefore did not suspend the action, they were like a footnote explaining the need for stitches and comparing the injury to one he had described previously: 11. and it all bleeding 12. and I had to rush up to the hospital 13. and get stitches [Did that one hurt lots and lots too?] 14. nahuh 15. just sometime 78 16. just twice a day 17. and it got better 18. even I had to take pills for the thing for my elbow 19. and it got gone gone real quick 20. and that one wasn't gone yet. Adam used intensifiers, such as prosodic stress and lexical quantifiers (ajl, just, even, real), and comparators (modals in clauses 12 and 18, and negative in clause 20) to evaluate the high point. Adam chose the word rush to describe how he went to the hospital and repeated the fact that he had to get stitches, presumably to indicate the severity of his injury. On several occasions, Adam inverted the order of narrative clauses compared to the presumed order of events in the real experience. I attributed this to the online planning and speaking, during which Adam probably recognized his listener's need for further orientation or explanation. For example, after having stated the high point event, he may then have recognized the need to account for the stitches by describing his injury ("and it all bleeding," clause 11). Despite the inversions in the telling, the order of the real events was easily retrievable from Adam's narrative., Adam, like Donny, demonstrated great skill in his use of evaluation to make his point. Brian produced a personal narrative that was assigned to the ending-at-the-high-point pattern. Although he did provide a sense of resolution in his initial abstract (e.g. "{I I} I wiped out on my bike and {I} I got {a} a lot of cuts on my knee and then they all went away' Brian, Appendix C, clauses 1 - 3), this resolution was not reiterated in the narrative proper. Moreover, the resolution included in the abstract was not causally connected to the high point; indeed it seemed to belittle the injury. On the other hand, Brian's complicating actions led clearly to the high point and the listener could empathize with Brian regarding the crisis of his narrative: 5. I was riding down the hill 6. and {I I didn't know which} I forgot which was my back brake 7. and {1} I pulled my front brake 8. and I {fl-} flipped off my bike. Brian was more limited than Donny in his use of evaluative devices; however, the listener knew the high point was significant due to its mention in the abstract and reiteration in the narrative proper. Brian chose to use graphic words (wiped out and flipped off) to describe his experience, which justified its reportability. He also used an intensifier in the abstract to describe the result of flipping off his bike (i.e. "I got a lot o/cuts," clause 2). Furthermore, Brian effectively embedded evaluation into the action building up to the crisis. By mentioning that he had forgotten which brake was which, Brian suspended the action for a moment and set the stage for the events that followed. He very concisely related an event that, though the results appeared to be trivialized, meant a great deal to him. Susan's narrative was judged to fit the leap-frogging pattern. She provided a brief abstract of the high point of her narrative ~ "I banged my knee out on one of those bars out there" (Susan, Appendix C, clause 1) -- and followed it with an orientation to the ongoing activity. Susan did not describe the build up to the high point (banging her knee), and though the ensuing action was provided, important events were missing: 2. I was gonna go get a soccer ball 3. and I banged it real hard. 4. and then I just {urn} ran up the hill 5. and I threw the ball onto the hill 80 6. and then I went to come to show my mom 7. and my dad thought 8. it was just a little blackberry scratch. Though Susan described an integrated experience, the omitted events would have helped the listener reconstruct how the accident occurred and how she ended up with stitches. The italicized words in the clauses above help to illustrate how Susan evaluated the events of her narrative. She, like Brian, was less expressive and elaborate than Donny; at the same time, she managed to include a sophisticated device. She attributed an evaluative comment to a third person in clauses 7 and 8, which, according to Labov (1972), is a highly developed skill. In her narrative, however, Susan was not expressing how the experience affected her, but providing one person's assessment of the situation against which to contrast the real situation; in this way, clauses 7 and 8 acted as a comparator. The other evaluative devices used were a repetition of the high point action (e.g. "I banged my knee ... I banged it real hard," clauses 1 and 3), the lexical intensifies italicized in clauses 3 and 4 above, and a comparator in the form of a negative: 15. I had stitches. [How many?] 16. three. 17. no, it was four wasn't it? 18. yeah, I had four. First Susan suggested that she had had three stitches in her knee and then realized she was mistaken. This use of the negative, plus her repetition of the actual number of stitches, effectively emphasized the severity of the injury. The above four clauses were all that Susan provided as a resolution to her crisis and were added as an afterthought. Peterson & McCabe (1983) found that between the ages of 6 and 8, 81 children often do include resolution as an afterthought, presumably because they realize at the end of their narrative that a resolution is possible. However, in Susan's case, the resolution was offered in response to my question, "How come there are all these marks here?" Although Susan showed me the scar on her knee without prompting, she may not have gone on to talk about the stitches. It appeared that Susan's narrative contained many of the necessary components to meet the criteria of classic narrative (complication, evaluation, resolution). However, the events leading up to the high point and the events leading from her dad's comment to her showing me the scar ("see," clause 14) were not described. Susan's narrative was more than a description of successive events, but she omitted important information. She seemed to leap from one event (over others in the real experience) to another event. Annie's personal narrative was assigned to the disoriented pattern. It was, however, a difficult narrative to analyze and I reached this assignment by process of elimination. Although Annie did not contradict herself, the narrative was too vague to follow; I did not know how she had hurt herself or with what implement (e.g. "with, with one of those things. There there each cut part cut" Annie, Appendix C, clauses 8 - 9). At the same time, Annie included a minimal abstract and orienting information about the ongoing activity, which was interpretable as complicating action as well ("when I was trying to get my cousin's shoe a-way up there," clause 11). The high point, as limited as it was, was emphasized through repeated mention: 1. I got hurt on this side ... 3. Got a scrape here ... 10. That's how it got scraped. 82 Annie evaluated the events of her narrative using repetition and gestures to emphasize the immensity of her injury (e.g. "got a scrape here and here and up here and over here and on here," clauses 2 -7), and a lexical intensifier a-way up to emphasize, presumably, the danger of the activity which preceded the injury. Complicating action was scant and Annie's narrative appeared to end at the high point of her experience, with clause 10. More or less as an afterthought, she provided the orienting action of her narrative in clauses 11 and 12 (after the high point). This addendum indicated her awareness of her listener's need to know what was happening at the time of her injury to fully appreciate her experience. In this orientation, Annie included information about a co-participant and specified both the participant's name and his relationship to her. Annie included enough of the high point components for me to consider assigning her narrative to the impoverished pattern. However, as (due to her vague descriptions) no clear picture of the events could be made from Annie's narrative, it was assigned to the disoriented pattern. "Disoriented" and "impoverished" are unfortunate labels to describe the structure of a narrative because they imply negative judgement. Annie's narrative was replete with emerging high point components to the point that, despite missing events and vague language, it was suggestive of the ending-at-the-high-point structure. Summary of Overall Level In general, narratives increase in length with an increase in narrative development. However, the overall structure of a narrative is a more important 83 indicator of development. Donny, Adam and Susan produced narratives of similar length: twenty-two, twenty and eighteen clauses each. Annie's narrative was twelve clauses long while Brian's was only eight clauses long. Structurally, Donny's, Adam's and Brian's personal narratives were built around a high point (classic and ending-at-the-high-point types), which is indicative of a high level of development. Although Susan's narrative was assigned to the leap-frogging pattern, she did include at least a limited indication of the basic components of a fully developed narrative (high point, evaluation, resolution). Annie's narrative was assigned to the disoriented pattern, but showed evidence of emerging narrative skill. Peterson & McCabe (1983) found that the classic pattern was the predominant pattern for children 6 and older, with a large number of children 6 years old still producing ending-at-the-high-point narratives. With increasing years, the classic pattern becomes more common and the ending-at-the-high-point pattern less common. Peterson & McCabe found that leap-frogging narratives were more frequent among 4-year-old children than among older children. In addition, all the primitive patterns (chronological, leap-frogging, impoverished, and disoriented) decrease sharply after 4 1/2 years of age. Only a small percentage (8%) of 4-year-olds' narratives in Peterson & McCabe's study were assigned to the disoriented pattern. Moreover, Peterson & McCabe found that the most frequent narrative pattern to show up among the narratives of 5-year-old children were chronological and ending-at-the-high-point. Donny and Adam, at 6;5, produced narratives that matched the basic patterns typical of their age group (i.e. classic pattern). A smaller percentage of children 84 Brian's age (8;6) were producing ending-at-the-high-point, but this pattern was not unusual. On the other hand, Susan (7;5) and Annie (5;0) told personal narratives that matched structural patterns typical of children younger than themselves. Narrative Components Many researchers have looked at the inclusion of internal narrative components as an indicator of development. I turn, now, to a discussion of these components: abstract, orientation, complicating action, resolution, and evaluation.1 Abstracts. Brian, Susan, and Donny included full abstracts (following Peterson & McCabe's definition) at the beginning of their narratives, while Adam and Annie provided partial abstracts. Peterson & McCabe (1983) note that fewer that 5% of the narratives of 4-year-olds contain abstracts, while over 20% of narratives by 8- and 9-year-olds do. Umiker-Sebeok (1979) found that the proportion of narratives that contained abstracts increased from 11% to 13% to 33% across the age range of 3 to 4 to 5 years old. The difference between Umiker-Sebeok and Peterson & McCabe's results could be related to a difference in definition of "abstract." Whereas Umiker-Sebeok accepted "You know what I was doing?" as an abstract, Peterson & McCabe called this an attention getter. Abstracts, in their study, required more information summarizing the whole narrative. Heath (1983) found that the black working-class children in her study tended to include abstracts, while the white working-class children did not. Kernan (1984) noted an increase in the use of abstracts among 1 The criteria for determining the presence of narrative components can be found in chapter two on the following pages: 55 (abstract and orientation); 56 (complicating action and evaluation); and 58 (resolution). 85 TABLE 5 Number of Clauses including Different Types of Orientation Information Subjects Brian Susan Donny Adam Annie Participant 2 1 1 Location 1 3 1 4 Time 2 2 Ongoing/Imminent Event 1 1 3 2 Feature 1 Motivation 1 black children between the ages of 7/8 and 10/11 years. Both Heath and Kernan used definitions of abstract similar to Peterson & McCabe; all three definitions were based on Labov (1972). Although abstracts are more frequently included as children get older, it is not uncommon, even at the highest levels of development for narrators to omit abstracts. The presence of abstracts in the personal narratives of the older three Coast Salish children and the absence of abstracts in the narratives of the younger two fit the pattern portrayed by previous studies of children's narratives. Orientation. All of the Coast Salish children provided some orientation to their narratives. The different types of orienting information each child used is presented in Table 5. The number of clauses in which each type of information occurred in the children's narratives is indicated in the table. Donny used six different types of orienting information, Adam and Susan used four different types, Annie used three different types, and Brian used two. All of these children provided information about location and ongoing or imminent events, while only Donny included motivational information. Susan, Donny and Annie named other participants in their experience and described the relationship of these people to themselves. Adam merely indicated that other people were involved, but did not explain who they were. Adam and Annie included information about some feature or object in the environment. Donny gave some indication of when the experience took place; Susan did as well, but only after a direct question from the interviewer. Most previous studies found that inclusion of orienting information and the variety of orienting information increased with age (Kernan 1977 ; Peterson 8c McCabe 1983; Umiker-Sebeok 1979) . Umiker-Sebeok (1979) found an increase in the use of orientations from 16% to 1 0 0 % with increasing age from 3 to 5 years. Kernan (1979) found that, while the younger children in his study supplied names, places and dates, they did not supply information elaborating the characters' personalities, motivations or circumstances. Not only did the older children devote more of their narratives to background information, but this information was more often designed to help the audience interpret the events of the narrative. Between the groups of children 7 and 8 years old and those 10 and 11 years old, Kernan (1977) saw an increase in the inclusion of orientation sections from 1 1 % to 2 7 % with an accompanying change in focus from time, place and character to mood and motivation. In Peterson & McCabe's (1983) study, 4-year-olds used, on average, five-and-a-half different types of orienting information; 9-year-olds used more that seven. Between the ages of 6 and 7, Peterson & McCabe found a particularly large increase in the diversity of orienting information. They note that conditions under which the narrative action takes place, ongoing events, and the personalities and relationships of other people involved are more fully developed by older children. Annie included fewer clauses devoted to orientation and fewer types of orienting information in her narrative than did Susan, Donny and Adam; however, there were not enough children in the study to claim a developmental progression among the Coast Salish children, let alone to claim that this progression matched the one reported in the literature. Furthermore, Brian, the oldest member of the group, used the fewest types of orientation. Generally speaking, the Coast Salish children used fewer orientation types than did their age-matched counterparts reported by Peterson & McCabe. However, the findings of the present study are based on a single narrative for each subject, whereas, Peterson & McCabe's findings are based on the three longest narratives told by each subject. Therefore, the evidence of orientation types in the present study may not be representative of the Coast Salish children's full ability to provide orienting information. Moreover, these children showed an ability to use the following highly developed orienting techniques: ongoing/imminent events (all five); character elaboration (Susan, Donny and Annie); features/objects (Adam and Annie); and motivational state (Donny). Complicating Action. Only one of the Coast Salish children, Brian, included a clear sequence of complicating action as a build-up to the high point, while the others gave, at least minimally, an indication of the crisis itself. Many studies indicate an increasing inclusion of complicating action with increasing age (Haslett 1984; Kernan 1984; Peterson & McCabe 1983; Umiker-Sebeok 1979). However, the overall proportion of a narrative devoted to complicating action and crisis is balanced against the percentage devoted to orientation and evaluation. This balance shifts with age as the children become more adept at getting their point across through one section or another. Kernan (1977), for instance, found that the younger children in his study (7-and 8-year-olds) used the description of complicating events to imply their attitude toward these events. The older children in his study (10- and 11-year-olds and 13-and 14-year-olds) devoted a larger portion of their narratives to orientation and evaluation sections to convey this attitude. Whereas the absolute number of complicating actions related may be similar across age ranges, the proportion of the narrative devoted to complicating actions tends to decrease with increasing age. The relative lack of complicating action in the narratives of the present study is not necessarily a sign of poor development; rather, it indicates that the build-up was probably provided in some other way, through orientation in the case of Adam's narrative, or through orientation and evaluation in the case of Donny's narrative. Resolution. Brian, Donny and Adam resolved their narratives by telling at least briefly what happened as a result of their injuries. Susan did as well, but only in response to the interviewer's query and very much as an addendum to the original narrative. However, she did show me her scar without prompting, which functioned as a limited nonverbal resolution to her narrative. Annie, on the other hand, attempted to explain how she got scraped, but did not go on to describe what happened as a result of her scrape. By 6 or 7 years of age, most children provide a resolution to their crisis. Haslett (1984) found that 7-year-olds provided a complete rationale for telling their narratives (through orientation, complication, evaluation and resolution), which was not provided by younger children. The predominant structure of children 6 or older in Peterson & McCabe's (1983) study was the classic type, which entails a resolution of some sort. Umiker-Sebeok (1979) found that 41% of the narratives told by 5-year-olds included resolutions, compared to only 11% of the narratives by 3-year-olds. In a general sense, the findings of the present study fit the picture presented by prior research with regard to resolutions. While Susan's resolution was presented in a limited nonverbal form, Brian's was presented only in the abstract. In both cases, the resolutions were not fully developed; this meant that the audience was required to infer the details of the resolution. These underdeveloped resolutions, though not common, were not unusual among children 7 and 8 years old. The total lack of resolution in Annie's narrative was common to her age group. Evaluation. The focus of the high point analysis is by definition the high point. This analysis focuses on how well narrators develop and embellish the high point of their narrative through evaluation. Although the children in the present study did not necessarily cluster their evaluations around the high point of the narrative, they did provide evaluation of some portion of the narrative, which, at least indirectly, elaborated on the high point itself. The variety of evaluative devices and the number of clauses in which each device occurred in the Coast Salish children's narratives are presented in Table 6. In addition, the proportion of each narrative's total clauses containing evaluative information is displayed in Table 7. From these two tables, one can see that, although a large proportion of the clauses in Annie's narrative contained evaluative information, she used mainly intensifiers. Susan, Donny and Adam each used seven 90 TABLE 6 Different Types of Evaluation Subjects . Brian Susan Donny Adam Annie Intensifiers Stress 2 7 6 3 3 Repetition 1 1 2 2 Lexical Quantifier 1 5 4 7 1 Words Per Se 2 1 Comoarators Compulsion Words 2 1 Negatives 1 1 1 Attributing to Third Party 1 Others Explanation 1 4 Tangential Information 1 4 2 2 Resolution 5 2 7 TABLE 7 Number and Proportion of Clauses Containing Evaluation Subject Brian Susan Donny Adam Annie Total Number of Clauses 8 18 22 20 12 Proportion of Clauses .50 .44 .45 .60 .67 different types and Brian used five different types of evaluation. All of the narratives had a high proportion of clauses containing evaluative information. Peterson & McCabe (1983) identified twenty-one different types of evaluation. Though they did not find a significant overall increase in the use of evaluation across their sample (ages 4 through 9), they did find an increase in the diversity of evaluation types available to the older children. Of the twenty-one evaluation types, eight were used by the Coast Salish children. This subgroup of evaluation types showed some change in usage between the age groups of 4/5 and 6/7 in Peterson & McCabe's study. Two other evaluation types, attributing to third party and resolution, were also used by the Coast Salish children and will be included in the discussion. The pattern of growth in use of the evaluation types in the present study appeared to match the increase in diversity evident in Peterson & McCabe's study. As there are a large number of different evaluation types, I will discuss them in the groups laid out in Table 6: intensifiers, comparators, and others. Stress, repetition, lexical quantifiers, and words per se are referred to as intensifiers in the present study. All of the Coast Salish children used prosodic stress at least once in their personal narratives, while repetition was used at least once by all the children except Donny. All of the children in the present study used lexical quantifiers. Adam used the most lexical quantifiers (seven), while Brian and Annie used only one each. As with any intersubject comparison of narrative components, the number of incidences of an evaluation type must be considered in light of the overall length of the narrative. Brian's and Annie's narratives were short (eight and twelve clauses long, respectively), while the other three narratives were between 92 eighteen and twenty-two clauses long. One would not expect as many lexical quantifiers in a short narrative as in a long narrative. Brian and Adam used words per se to evaluate the high point. They chose graphic vocabulary to reflect some intensification of the situation they described (e.g. Adam did not merely go to the hospital, he rushed to the hospital). Prosodic stress was used twice as often in the narratives of the 6- and 7-year-olds as in those of the 4- and 5-year olds in Peterson & McCabe's (1983) data, while repetition decreased between the two age groups. Use of lexical quantifiers increased with age. These evaluation types (stress, repetition, and quantifier) were referred to as intensifiers by Labov (1972). These three types of intensifier became predominant in the narratives of 6-year-olds in Haslett's (1984) study. Umiker-Sebeok (1979) indicated that 38% of the 5-year-olds' narratives contained evaluative comment, of which these intensifiers were the most common. In Peterson & McCabe's study, the use of words per se almost doubled in frequency from the 4-and 5-year-olds to the 6- and 7-year-olds. Choosing a word for its ability to concisely capture the excitement or emotion attached to an event is a well developed skill. This is a technique that implies an attitude towards an event, rather than explicitly states that attitude. Kernan (1977) found that an increasing proportion of the evaluative clauses contained implicitly conveyed evaluation in the narratives of the older children in his study. Although the data sample in the present study is too small to constitute evidence of a developmental pattern, prosodic stress did appear to be used less by Annie than by the older Coast Salish children, except Brian; furthermore, Annie 93 seemed to rely more on repetition to convey emphasis than did the other children. The older children, except perhaps Brian, seemed to have a greater variety of lexical quantifiers available to them. Only two of the older children used words per se. This pattern of change from Annie, aged 5 years, to the others, aged 6;5 and older, resembled the pattern described in reports of previous studies. Moreover, the children in the present study provided much of their evaluation of the high point implicitly (e.g. word stress, words per se, etc.), similar to the children in previous studies. Comparators include compulsion words (e.g. have to, need to), negatives, and one instance of attributing an evaluative comment to a third party. Susan, Donny and Adam used comparators to help describe their experience. The first two types of comparators -- compulsion words and/or negatives - were found in all three narratives. Compulsion words and negatives have the effect of comparing potential events to actual ones. In addition, Susan used another evaluative device to compare a potential to a real event; she included another person's assessment of her injury. This assessment, which she attributed to her dad, turned out to be inaccurate and, thus, her inclusion of it functioned as an effective comparator. Peterson & McCabe (1983) found that compulsion words were used less by children aged 6 and 7 than by those aged 4 and 5. There was also a decrease in the 6- and 7-year-olds' use of negative statements. Evaluation through comparison was used by all age groups (3 to 5) in Umiker-Sebeok's study. It was the primary form of evaluation in the narratives of the 3-years-olds. By 5, the children in her study used intensifiers more frequently than comparators, though the latter were still very 94 common. These two studies suggest that comparators become less frequently used in the narratives of older children, whereas Labov (1972) states that adults call upon the comparator as an evaluative device more frequently than do preadolescents. The difference between these studies may be related to differences in definition or it may be related to differences in the cultural influences on the subjects. Attributing evaluative comments to a third party is like the use of direct dialogue observed among the narratives of children 6 and 7 years old in Haslett's (1984) study, in that it requires a certain degree of empathy for another person's point of view. As Labov (1972) notes, the ability to attribute ideas to another person represents a high level of evaluative skill. The Coast Salish children's apparent increase in the use of comparators with age did not fit the pattern presented in Peterson & McCabe (1983) and Sebeok-Umiker (1979). The contrast could be a reflection of the limited sample size of the present study, or it could be an indication of a cultural difference. I judged that it was not indicative of language delays on the part of the three children in the present study who used comparators. They used these devices very effectively to get the point of the narrative across. This suggests the influence of cultural values. Other types of evaluation occurred in all but Annie's narrative. Donny evaluated the events leading up to the high point through explanation and correlation to justify or explain these and the high point events. Both Brian and Adam ( and Annie to a limited extent) added tangential or orienting information just at the high point. This information served to provide background information, which influenced the listener's interpretation of the related events and, in Brian's case, to suspend the 95 action, which emphasized the high point. In the personal narratives of Susan, Donny and Adam, the resolutions provided further evaluation of the high point by indicating the severity of their injuries (e.g. the cut in Susan's knee left a permanent scar). All age groups in Peterson & McCabe's study evaluated events through explanation. In Labov's (1972) work, on the other hand, the use of explicatives increased significantly from preadolescence to adulthood. In Haslett's (1984) study, the suspension of action through inclusion of tangential information at the high point began to show up clearly in the narratives of children aged 6 and older. In Peterson & McCabe's study, tangential information increased in evidence from 4 to 7 years. Both Haslett (1984) and Peterson & McCabe (1983) found that the resolution could also act as an evaluative device. For example, in Haslett's study, 6-year-olds often included surprise endings. These endings could act as comparators because there was a juxtaposition of the given ending and the ending expected by the listener. Though the resolutions provided in the Coast Salish children's narrative were not surprise endings, they did provide important evaluative information. The older Coast Salish children's ability to call on evaluative devices other than intensifiers and comparators was evidence of a skill level at or above the expectations for their age levels as portrayed in the relevant research literature. Summary of Personal Narratives Brian's narrative - with two types of orientation, a clear build-up of complicating action, and five types of evaluation - fit the ending-at-the-high-point pattern. Brian included less diversity in his use narrative components than the 96 children in previous studies. However, a single narrative is not likely to be representative of a child's full ability, especially one as concise as Brian's personal narrative. Regardless, Brian's narrative was not an unusual example of narratives by 8-year-olds reported in the narrative development literature. Susan's narrative fit the leap-frogging pattern, which was typical of children younger than herself. Susan's personal narrative was less developed than expected, particularly in the area of complicating action and resolution. There is some possibility that this reflects a cultural influence of the white community that she, more than the other children, has experienced. The influence of the two years of preschool and two of primary school may have inculcated a white attitude towards narratives that values decontextualization and does not encourage aggrandizement of an experience (Heath 1983; Labov 1972). On the other hand, Susan did use four kinds of orientation and six types of evaluation, several of which were indicative of a high degree of narrative skill. Moreover, the second coder assigned Susan's narrative to the ending-at the-high-point pattern, which is common among children Susan's age. Donny and Adam produced classic narratives and each child used a number of orientation and evaluation devices. Donny used five types of orientation while Adam used four; they both used six types of evaluation. Their narratives were typical of children 6 years old and older. Annie, whose narrative fit the disoriented pattern, was the least like children her age in previous studies. She used three types of orientation, two of which were indicative of a higher level of development than her narrative's overall structure would suggest. She used four kinds of evaluation, which is less than the average number of evaluation types available to the 5-year-olds 97 reported in other studies. However, I would like to reiterate that it is inappropriate to judge a child's skill on the basis of one narrative. Furthermore, the difference between the high point structure of Annie's narrative and that of children's narratives reported in prior research may be a reflection, not of a difference in narrative skill, but of a difference in narrative style. At the time her narrative was collected, Annie had not yet started school and was minimally exposed to the mainstream culture of the urban community near her home. Therefore, she had not been influenced by mainstream expectations to the same degree the other Coast Salish children had. Except, perhaps, for the narrative by Annie, the Coast Salish children produced narratives comparable to those discussed in studies of narrative development by both White and Black North American children. Frog Narratives High point analysis was carried out on all the frog narratives in the "without book" condition; however, I found it difficult, at times, to assign these narratives to a particular pattern, primarily because they were lacking in evaluative comment. High point analysis was developed to handle the personal experience narratives of the narrator (Labov 1972) and, although it has been applied to fictional narratives of children (Haslett 1984), I considered it most appropriate to personal narratives. This section, therefore, will be brief. Table 8 shows the overall structure of each frog narrative and the high point components that made up each narrative, as well as the total number of clauses in each narrative. Susan's frog narrative was assigned to the classic pattern. She did TABLE 8 High Point Structure of Frog Narratives Subjects Brian Susan Donny Adam Annie Overall Structure Disoriented Impoverished Chronological Leap-frogging Ending-at-the-high-point Classic X X X X X Components Beginning Stylistic Abstract X Orientation Limited Full X X X Complicating Action Build-up Crisis X X X X X X (X)* Evaluation Implied Stated X (X) (X) Resolution X X X (X) Ending Stylistic Consequences X X X Total Number of Clauses 40 61 63 32 15 * Parentheses indicate that elements of this feature were present, but it was not fully realized. 99 not start this narrative with an abstract of the narrative, but she did include sufficient orientation to provide a context in which to interpret the crisis. The crisis for all of the frog narratives was seen as the moment when the boy discovered the frog had escaped. Though most of the narrative followed this moment, the events that were described as occurring after the crisis either did or did not contribute to the evaluation of the high point and, ultimately, of the resolution. In other words, these ensuing events (depending on how the child described them) either helped the listener understand the significance of the missing pet or contributed nothing to that theme. In the case of Susan's narrative, these events were seen as contributing to the evaluation of the high point. After an unsuccessful attempt to find the frog, each reassertion of the search emphasized the frog's importance from the boy's point of view. The following clauses from Susan's narrative illustrate how the events following the frog's escape are tied to it and contribute to the listener's understanding of the boy's feelings towards the frog. 11. and then he started looking all over for the frog 12. and the frog wasn't anywhere ... 26. the little boy was looking down a hole for the frog 27. but the frog wasn't there ... 35. and then he looked in the hole 36. and he didn't see the frog ... 44. and then he started looking 45. and calling for the frog. (Susan, Appendix D: 1) Susan clearly presented the boy's determination to find the frog. With each unsuccessful result came another attempt until the result was successful. This successful result was clear in Susan's narrative: "then the little boy found a frog, too, 100 and they lived happily ever after" (clauses 60 - 61). Other evaluative comments included in Susan's narrative were intensifiers, primarily in the form of prosodic stress and phonetic elongation. These were common in the narratives of the 6- and 7-year-olds in Peterson & McCabe's (1983) study. Brian's narrative was considered to fit the leap-frogging pattern because, although it was initially structured around a high point, the relationship between the high point and the ensuing events became unclear. Brian started off with the stylistic beginning "Once upon a time," and followed with a brief, but sufficient orientation to explain - at least partially - how the crisis affected the boy. To confirm this partial explanation and eloquently present evaluative information, Brian included dialogue: 6. and then the kid {g-} goes 7. "Where are you froggie? 8. I want you to come back!" 10. and then the kid looks out the window 11. and goes 12. "Frog, frog, where are you?" (Brian, Appendix D: 1) This use of dialogue is comparable to that of the children 6 and 7 years of age in Haslett's (1984) study, who included dialogue in their fictional narratives to express important points in their stories and to tie together the plot of their stories. This dialogue was the only evaluation of the crisis in Brian's narrative. After the little boy's expressed desire to have his frog back, he apparently went on a number of adventures, skipping from one to the next, without any connection to the high point at all. There is no real resolution to Brian's narrative; it ended more or less as it began -- with the boy's need to find a frog. 101 Donny produced a frog narrative that was chronological in structure. He included an adequate orientation to allow the crisis of the frog escaping to occur, but the events that followed this crisis were not clearly related to it. Donny did use a variety of evaluation devices, such as words per se, repetition, and dialogue; these were not in service of the main high point of the story, however. In several cases, they did evaluate (through suspended action and word choice) a minor high point within the story. The following clauses are an example of this: 30. while the boy was looking in the hole 31. and he said 32. "Phew! Something stinks." 33. and {um} here a mouse popped out. (Donny, Appendix D: 1) The dialogue both suspended the action and provided an attributive remark about something as yet unknown. This created an expectation for an important or interesting event to follow, which was, in this case, the appearance of the mouse. Although Donny's narrative included a resolution to the initial crisis (i.e. "and there they were, happily and ever after. So they took Willy away and the whole family came," clauses 59 -62), it did not include evaluation of the initial crisis. Clauses 61 and 62 were added as an afterthought. Donny had tied up the story with "happily and ever after," when he realized he had forgotten the important information about the boy taking the frogs home with him. This likened Donny to the children between ages 6 and 8 who added a resolution as an afterthought because they realized they could (Peterson & McCabe 1983). However, unlike in Susan's narrative, the action that followed the crisis in Donny's narrative was not tied to the crisis sufficiently to warrant the description of evaluative action. The boy appeared to be out experiencing a 102 series of adventures unrelated to the loss of the frog when, serendipitously, he happened to find the frog. Adam and Annie produced frog narratives which were classified as disoriented structures, primarily because both children used language in a way that was either confusing or contradictory. From the narrated sequence, it was not easy for the listener to follow the sequence of "real" events being described. Adam's narrative contained more of a sense of orientation, complication and resolution than did Annie's narrative; however, his use of pronominal reference was ambiguous and left the listener wondering who had done what. For example, the first few clauses involve both contradictory and confusing statements: 1. the kid was awake in the dark time 2. and the frog got out of the bowl thing 3. and he was awake 4. and he looked down into the bowl thing 5. and he was gone. (Adam, Appendix D: 1) It was virtually impossible, but for my familiarity with the picture book on which this narrative was based, to puzzle out to which character each he referred. In addition, important information was missing (e.g. that the boy had fallen asleep, at which point the frog could make his escape). This omission contributed to the difficulty I had following this narrative. Labov (1972) describes the narratives of vicarious experience (e.g. a T.V. program or a story from a book), told by the preadolescents in his study, as beginning in the middle of the action, containing ambiguous pronominal reference, and lacking evaluation. Their personal experience narratives, on the other hand, were highly evaluated and easier to follow. This is true, also, of the narratives told by Adam; his personal narrative is easier to follow and replete with evaluation, while his 103 frog narrative is confusing due to poor use of reference and inadequate evaluation of the crisis. Annie did not provide any usable orientation, nor were the events that she did describe completely elaborated. Again pronominal reference was ambiguous and none of the clauses contained enough background information against which to interpret the given information. For example the listener was told about a deer: 6. the deer [mmm?] 7. the deer [the deer] {sigh} 8. the deer [mhm] {What's other part?} 9. they fell in the water [uhuh] 10. they fell in the water. (Annie, Appendix D; 1) The repetition suggested that the deer was important but there was no further elucidation of how it was important. Presumably the fact that they fell in the water was somehow related to the deer (which it is in the picture book), but Annie did not explain who they were nor how the two propositions were related. Although familiarity with the picture book allowed me to see that Annie had actually captured the most important events of the story (i.e. the frog's escape and the fall from the deer into the pond where the frog lived) in her brief narrative, none of this information would have been available to a naive listener (one unfamiliar with the picture book) and the sequence of events would have appeared unrelated and confusing. Therefore, Annie's narrative fit the disoriented pattern. When evaluative comment occurred in the frog narratives of the Coast Salish children, it was primarily in the form of prosodic stress, repetition, lexical quantifiers, negatives, and -- in Susan's case -- action. The high point of these fictional narratives was less highly evaluated than the high point of the personal narratives. In 104 addition, the children drew on fewer of the evaluative devices available to them. This is similar to the findings Labov (1972) reports in comparing vicarious versus personal experience narratives among black preadolescents. A personal experience is filled with personal meaning, which children try to communicate to their listeners. On the other hand, the ability to empathize with the protagonist of a T.V. show or a book, and to attribute feelings and thoughts to that protagonist, requires a higher development than most primary aged children would have attained. One would expect, then, that a narrative about someone else's experience would not be so heavily evaluated as the narrative about one's own experience; this appeared to be the case in the present study. It may also be the case that some cultural groups find it more appropriate than others to attribute thoughts and feelings to another person. Summary of the Chapter This chapter reports results of the high point analysis of the children's personal narratives and frog narratives retold without the picture book. The overall structures of the children's narratives ranged from disoriented to classic (three disoriented, one chronological, two leap-frogging, one ending-at-the-high-point, and three classic types). The personal narratives for all the children, except Susan, tended to be of a higher structural level than the frog narratives; in Susan's case, the reverse was true. Susan produced a leap-frogging personal narrative and a classic frog narrative. Her more highly developed fictional narrative may further support my contention that Susan's style of storytelling was steeped in a literate tradition. In the case of Adam, 105 whose personal narrative was a classic type and frog narrative was a disoriented type, the internarrative difference was extreme. Four of the Coast Salish children included at least minimal indication of the necessary components of a classic narrative (complication, evaluation, and resolution) in their personal narratives, while only two of the children included all of these components in their frog narratives. Generally, the children used a wide variety of orientation types (participant, location, time, ongoing/imminent events, features/objects, and motivation) and a wide variety of evaluation types (stress, repetition, lexical quantifier, words per se, compulsion words, negatives, attributing to third party, explanation, tangential information, and resolution). The structure and components of the Coast Salish children's narratives fit, for the most part, the pattern of structure and components reported in existing studies of narrative development. Differences were evident in the children's use of complicating action and comparators. In addition, there was a large structural difference between Annie's narratives and those told by 5-year-olds reported in previous studies. She did not meet mainstream expectations and yet, she exhibited skill in her use of some of the narrative components in her personal narrative and captured the most important events of the frog narrative. Although the sample of the present study is not sufficient to claim that the differences in structure and narrative components are significant, they are worthy of note because the point of this study is to develop an awareness of the possible cultural differences between the narrative structure of the Coast Salish children and that of the mainstream society. I expected the high point analysis to reveal the following cultural differences: 106 events presented in the order (1) complicating action, then (2) orientation and evaluation as explanation. And I expected relationships between events to be expressed implicitly rather than explicitly. In their personal narratives, all of the children reversed the order of, at least, some of the narrative components from the order predicted by the mainstream literature. The Coast Salish children presented the events in order of action, then explanation, similar to the order observed in the narratives of traditional adult Native Indian storytellers. For instance, Brian presented the complication and resolution first and then went on to give orienting and evaluative information upon my query for explanation of the first two components. Donny presented the complicating action first and then provided orientation and evaluation of this action; then, he described the action taken to solve the complication, followed by an explanation of this action in the form of evaluation and resolution. Only Donny explicitly marked the relationships between events; in this way he performed similarly to the mainstream children. The other Coast Salish children did not express the relationships overtly; rather, they left these to the inferencing ability of their audience. In many instances, the children waited for an indication from me (i.e. question) to provide explanatory information. In those instances, the question marked the relationship between events. Again, this is consistent with adult Native Indian narrative style. Generally, only Annie's narrative met my expectation that the Coast Salish narratives would be structurally different from the narratives described in the mainstream narrative literature. In all of the children' narratives, however, the order of events and implicit relationships between them were consistent with my predictions. 107 In addition, the apparent expectation that I would be an active participant in the narrative experience characterized the Coast Salish children as different from mainstream children oriented to a literate style of storytelling. 108 C H A P T E R FOUR EPISODIC ANALYSIS The episodic analysis is based on Stein & Glenn's (1979) story grammar. The underlying assumption of this grammar is that people have a schematic knowledge that guides their generation and interpretation of, and memory for story information. This schematic knowledge develops with exposure to and experience with stories. As the primary exposure is in the form of listening to or reading stories, this analysis was judged to be most applicable to the frog narratives of the present study. The discussion will, therefore, focus on the frog narratives told by the Coast Salish children, with a brief review of their personal narratives. The frog narratives appear in full in Appendix D (D: 1 contains the "without book" renditions; D: 2 contains the "with book" renditions). Clause numbers in the following discussion correspond to the numbering in the appendix. I begin this chapter with a description of the Coast Salish children's frog narratives and a comment on the overall structure to which they were assigned. I then turn to a discussion of the narrative components. Under five separate headings (setting, initiating event, internal response, attempt, and consequence), I present the results of the present study, the results of the relevant research literature, and conclusions about the Coast Salish children's narrative development in relation to 109 existing narrative research. Following the discussion of the frog narratives, I briefly describe the overall structures of the personal narratives according to the episodic analysis and make some general comments about the narrative components in the narratives. Before I present the results of the episodic analysis, I would like to comment on the difficulties encountered in the analysis of the Coast Salish data. There are varying degrees of strictness with which one can analyze a narrative. For instance, a researcher can require that an explicit mention of a causal connection between events must be present before attributing a narrator with the skill of conveying that connection (Berman 1988); on the other hand, a researcher can infer that, because two events have been placed together in a particular order, they are causally connected (Trabasso et al. 1989). At times I had difficulties separating the effects of my familiarity with the picture book (and consequently, ability to make inferences) from the children's ability to convey the events of the story. I had difficulty assigning Donny's narrative to a particular overall structure. I dealt with this difficulty by assigning his narrative to several levels; I describe my reasons for these assignments in the discussion below. Frog Narratives There are a variety of ways in which a researcher can attempt to elicit a fictional narrative from children; several different techniques that have been used in the past include simply asking the children to tell a story, providing them with a story starter (e.g. "Once there was a girl named Alice who lived in a house near the 110 ocean," Stein & Glenn 1982: 270) and asking them to continue the story, telling the children a story and asking them to retell it, or providing them with a wordless picture book and asking them to tell a story based on the book (Berman 1988; Mandler et al. 1980; Stein 1986; Stein & Glenn 1982). Although there tend to be some differences in performance across these elicitation techniques, the same level of story grammar development is at the root of the children's ability to tell or retell a story. Therefore, the overall pattern of narrative structure is generally comparable across the different elicitation techniques. For instance, Berman (1988) used the same picture book {Frog, where are you? by Mayer 1969) as was used in the present study to elicit stories from her subjects. Though her subjects were Hebrew children, Berman's results were reportedly comparable to the results of North American studies such as Stein & Glenn (1979), whose elicitation approach was different. Description of Overall Structure Table 9 shows the overall structure of each story and the story grammar components that make up each narrative, as well as the total number of clauses in each narrative. The criteria for determining the presence of story grammar components can be found in chapter two on pages 61 through 63 and the criteria for assigning the narratives to an overall structure on pages 63 through 65. Results for narrative generation in both "with book" (lower case letters) and "without book" (upper case letters) conditions are included in the table. The following discussion will be based on the narratives generated without the picture book because this condition forces the children to impose their own structure to organize the retelling of events. 111 Reference will be made, on occasion, to the narratives generated with the picture book to illustrate inter-condition differences. As can be seen from Table 9, one of the Coast Salish children, Susan, generated a goal-based narrative, which contained one obstacle near the beginning of the narrative. This obstacle (clauses 16 -19), which constituted a complete goal-based episode, was embedded in the consequence (clause 16) of the boy's second attempt (clauses 13 -15) to find his frog: 13. so he went to the window 14. and he opened the window up 15. then he started calling for the frog 16. the dog fell out of the window 17. so the boy jumped out 18. and went 19. and got him. (Susan, Appendix D: 1) Although Susan's frog narrative (without book) contained only one embedded episode, it was assigned to the multiple causal chain level with a causal connection between the episodes (i.e. the dog's falling out of the window caused the boy to jump out and get him). This causal connection was explicitly indicated through the use of so in clause 17. Despite the fact that it took the boy several attempts to find the frog, Susan did not include any more obstacles in her frog narrative. The unsuccessful result of each attempt was not related to an obstacle that the boy had to overcome. For example, the fact that a "little animal came out and jumped and bit the little boy's nose" (clauses 28 - 30) did not interfere with his continuing his search for the frog. It did not change the boy's immediate goal and was therefore not considered an obstacle in the present analysis. It is interesting to note at this juncture that Susan's frog 112 TABLE 9 Story Grammar Structure of Frog Narratives Subjects Brian Susan Donny Adam Annie Overall Structure Additive Chain Listing Concatenated actions Theme Description Temporal Chain x x X x X Causal Chain Abbreviated X Automatic Goal - obstacle Goal + obstacle X X x X I Multiple Causal Chain Additive or Temporal Causal X I Components of Storv Grammar Setting x 1 x X x X Initiating event x X x X x X I (X) Internal response: Plans & goals X x 1 I Attempts 1 x X I X Consequence x X x X X (X) Total Clauses (with book) 40 Total Clauses 40 (without book) 52 61 60 63 52 32 43 15 Legend: x = present in "with book" condition X = present in "without book" condition i = inferable in "with book" condition I = inferable in "without book" condition 113 narrative in the "with book" condition was not a multiple causal chain. Although she mentioned that the dog had fallen out of the window, she did not indicate that the boy's goal had changed from searching for the frog to getting the dog when he jumped out of the window. This would suggest that Susan had somehow consolidated the events of the picture book in her mind and recognized the causal connections between events when she retold the story without the book. The general structure of Susan's frog narrative without the book was straightforward. She explicitly mentioned all of the necessary components of goal-based action (i.e. initiating event, goal, attempts, and consequence), as well as sufficient setting information to accept the plausibility of the initiating event: 1. a little boy caught a frog 2. he put him in a jar 3. it was night time 4. and the little boy was tired 5. he went to sleep with the little dog 6. and then he woke up 7. to check on the frog 8. and the frog was gone. She made it explicitly clear that the little boy's (protagonist) goal was to find the frog (e.g. "and then he started looking all over for the frog," clause 11). Then, each attempt to reach this goal was followed by an immediate consequence; each unsuccessful attempt was followed by a new attempt. For example, the following extract from Susan's narrative describes the boy's fourth attempt to find the frog and its unhappy consequence: 33. and the boy went to a tree 34. and started climbing it 35. and then he looked in the hole 36. and he didn't see frog 114 37. but he seen a owl 38. the owl pushed him out 39. and then it flew over the little boy's head 40. and pushed him down. Susan's narrative was the most decontextualized of the Frog narratives. She told the story in an objective manner, included all the components of a complete episode in an explicit manner and ended her story with the formulaic "and they lived happily ever after" (clause 61). The influence of two years of preschool and two of primary school in a mainstream North American environment may account in some way for Susan's literate style of story telling. Donny was not as explicit as Susan was in his description of the relationship between events in his frog narrative; in particular, he did not make explicit reference to goal information; it had to be inferred from the initiating event and related events that followed: 11. the frog wasn't in the jar 12. so the boy looked up the stink boot 13. and while the dog got his head stuck in the jar 14. so they both looked out the window 15. they both looked out the window 16. and they started calling. Moreover, he did not explicitly tie the boy's activities to this goal (i.e. he did not indicate what the boy and the dog were looking or calling for); in a strict analysis of the narrative, these activities could not be viewed as attempts to reach the goal. In this initial analysis, in which only overtly marked components and relationships were counted, I assigned Donny's narrative to the abbreviated causal chain structure. However, as can be seen in Table 9, I also assigned it to two other structures: goal-115 based chain with obstacle and causally connected multiple chain. On the initial analysis, I did not recognize a connection between the inferable goal and the boy's activities, but on the second, less strict analysis, I did. Donny created a causal connection between the frog's disappearance and clauses 12 through 16 by using the conjunction so (clauses 12 and 14). In addition, the setting and the initiating event set up an expectation that the boy would want to find his pet frog. Although Donny did not explicitly refer to the search motif in his narrative, he did provide a sense of the ongoing search through parallel structure as follows: 16. and they started calling ... 25. and then they started calling ... 27. and then they stared calling again ... 42. and started to call. According to Berman (1988), if a narrative lacked explicit reference to the frog as the object of the search, it did not qualify as a plot-centred story. However, Donny's use of parallel structure suggests that, in his own way, he was attempting to sustain a unified plotline. Though Donny seemed to rely more on the shared context and inferencing ability of his listener, I was convinced that these three factors (Donny's use of causal conjunction so, the information provided in the setting and initiating event, and his use of parallel structure) placed his narrative in the goal-based category. Similar to Susan, Donny included an obstacle which constituted a complete episode. This episode (clauses 1 6 - 2 1 ) covered the same event as Susan's 116 embedded event, but it was not as clearly goal-based as hers. Donny's inclusion of this embedded causal chain put his narrative at the level of multiple causal chain. More than any of the other children in this study, Donny noticed and attempted to capture the misadventures, the visual ambiguity and the humour of the picture book (e.g. "and he didn't know that these, the deer's horns were bushes; he thought they were bushes," clauses 43 - 44). He also added his own sense of atmosphere, and abstracted possible sensations, moods and feelings from the pictures. Donny's "with book" rendition of the frog narrative did not capture the visual ambiguity, nor was it instilled with a sense of atmosphere. The event in which the dog and the boy leave the house through the window was not structured as an embedded episode; therefore, it did not act as an obstacle to the search. Donny did not use so to tie the initiating event to the ensuing events and the search then was not unified through the use of parallel structure. Without these elements, which were included in the "without book" rendition, the* narrative was assigned to the abbreviated causal chain level. Donny, like Susan, created a "better" story without the book than with the book. This was also true of Brian and Adam. This is not surprising since, without the book, the child is thrown back on his understanding of "story" to retell the action; with the book, the structure of the retelling is constrained by the information presented pictorially on each page. A number of children participating in picture-supported story retelling have treated this as picture description task (Martin 1983). Brian generated a narrative that fit into the abbreviated causal chain category. Brian's story started clearly as a goal-based chain with all the necessary components (initiating event, internal response and one explicitly described attempt); however, he 117 digressed in mid-story and seemed to lose touch with the goal, to which he had originally referred. The adventures that follow the initial mention of the goal appeared disassociated with the search for the frog; this is exemplified in the following clauses: 15. and then {the frog, I mean} the kid sees bees 16. and then he goes 17. and looks for honey 18. and finds honey 19. then the kid goes, 20. "Oh, what's that hole?" It is reasonable that the boy should be distracted by the beehive, but Brian did not at this or any other point in the narrative explain the significance of the hole. He did not provide enough information to tie the ensuing events to the original goal. Moreover, the ending of the story did not appear to resolve the original problem, but rather it indicated a continuing search ("gonna get another one; the end," clauses 39 - 40). The fact that the boy found some frogs at the end of the story seemed little related to the expressed goal in the boy's dialogue near the beginning of the story, "Where are you, froggie? I want you to come back" (clauses 7 - 8). It also appeared to have little to do with the immediately preceding events in the story; in fact, the frog search had apparently ended with the distraction of the beehive. Brian's "with book" rendition of the frog story was assigned to the temporal chain structure. Although this narrative contained an initiating event of sorts, this event was not presented in a manner clear enough for a naive listener to understand as the event that provoked the kid to carry out the ensuing actions: 6. and the kid woke up 7. and the dog woke up 8. and they looked at their frog 9. and {they} then they put on their clothes 118 10. and then the dog put on the jar 11. and then the kid goes, 12. "Where are you little froggie?" 13. and the dog jumps out 14. and the kid gets the dog. (Brian, Appendix D: 2) Without a causal connection between the frog's disappearance and the ensuing events, Brian's "with book" rendition sounds like a series of chronologically ordered activities. Although Brian used "Once upon a time" and "The end" to frame his story, the structure of his frog narratives was not tight. I sensed an aimlessness to the adventures related; I was ready to ask, "So what?" at the end of the story. Interestingly, this is how Jacobs (1959) suggested a white person might feel when confronting a native legend. Two narratives, those of Adam and Annie, were classified as temporal chains because neither narrative contained explicit causal connections between story components; neither included goal-directed action. In other aspects, these two narratives were not equivalent to each other in structure and they did not include the same number of story grammar components (see Table 9). Adam included far more details in his frog narrative and did a better job, by mainstream standards, at capturing the elements of a well-formed story than did Annie. Though his narrative was assigned to the level of temporal chain, Adam captured elements of causal relationships between some of the propositions of the narrative. The listener could infer that the complicating event was the disappearance of the frog through the emphatic stress placed on this event (i.e. "and he [boy] looked 119 down into the bowl thing and he [frog] was gone"). Adam used parallel structure as follows: 7. he was calling out loud ... 20. he was yelling out loud. (Adam, Appendix D: 1) The listener could possibly also infer that the events described in conjunction with these two clauses were attempts to find the frog. There was, however, no overt indication that this was the case. It was clear at the end of Adam's narrative that the boy found some frogs and that he was given one, but it was not clear how this ending related to the events that preceded it. Peterson & McCabe (1983) note that children misrepresent causal relationships as temporal sequences. These authors ask the question, "When the child talks about being out in a boat and running out of gas, is the subsequent action of someone rowing back to shore merely an accurate reporting of what occurred, or a recognition of the planful nature of that action?" (1983: 95). The same question could be asked of Adam's narrative. His narrative was difficult to follow due to his inappropriate use of personal pronouns. Without familiarity with the picture book on which this narrative was based, it would have been virtually impossible to follow the purposeful action of his story. Take, for example, the first few clauses of the story: 1. the kid was awake in the dark time 2. and the frog got out of the bowl thing 3. and he was awake 4. and he looked into the bowl thing 5. and he was gone. It may have been possible for a naive listener to decipher which lie referred to which character, but not without effort and some initial confusion. Adam's narrative had 120 elements of the abbreviated causal chain, but without the contextual support of the book, Adam's narrative appeared to be a temporal listing. Adam's frog narrative in the "with book" condition was also assigned to the temporal chain level. Despite the fact that the "with book" rendition is much longer than the "without book" rendition (52 in contrast with 32 clauses), both renditions were assigned to the same level. Moreover, the structural quality of the two renditions was not equivalent. The "with book" rendition was more of a picture by picture description of the book than a story structured around particular events. Without the book, Adam managed to consolidate aspects of events that were disparate in the "with book" rendition. For instance, the dog's interest in the beehive was incoherent in the "with book" rendition: 12. all the bumble bees came out from the {bee} bumble bee nest.. . 18. all the bees went into their nest ... 21. and the doggie come up the li-22. he shook the tree 23. and the thing fell down 24. and broke. (Adam, Appendix D: 2) By the time Adam devoted several clauses to the events involving the beehive (clauses 21 - 24), a naive listener would not have known that these clauses were related to the beehive. On the other hand, the sequence about the beehive in the "without book" rendition was more clearly described: 11. {and th-} and {he} the dog started to bark at the {bee} bee nest 12. and {the urn he} he went over to the tree 13. and shook the tree 14. and it fell down 15. and broke. (Appendix D: 1) As with the other narratives discussed so far, Adam's "without book" rendition of the 121 frog story was more structured and more consolidated version than his "with book" one. Annie's narrative initially appeared to be a vague, short additive chain. The full narrative, excluding of interactions Annie had with the investigator, was as follows, 1. the frog was in there 2. and it got out 3. and he got out 4. he fell 5. off the rock 6. the deer 7. the deer 8. the deer 9. they fell in the water 10. they fell in the water 11. they got a frog 12. they went to go frog 13. they got a frog 14. they took it with them 15. they took it with them. Written like this, her narrative appeared almost poetic; however, the repetitions were primarily the result of a practice run with each proposition, which was restated with confidence when it met with positive approval from the investigator. Annie's narrative was by far the shortest (15 clauses) of the five children, she interacted the most with her listener, and she digressed from the story into her personal life. In her limited ability to stay on the task of the storytelling, Annie performed much like the 3- and 4-year-olds in Berman's (1988) study. These children were unable to sustain the story line and broke away from the storytelling task before completion. Similarly, without encouragement from the investigator, Annie may not have completed the narrative. It is interesting to note that, although Annie's narrative 122 did not have a plotline holding it together, Annie did choose to include the initiating event (clauses 1-3) and the most important misadventure (clauses 4-10), which led to the consequence (clauses 11-15). Though the causal structure would not have been apparent to the naive listener, the components mentioned above were evident to me; moreover, they were clearly presented in a temporal order. Annie's narrative was, therefore, assigned to the level of temporal chain. Annie's frog narrative generated with the book was much longer than her narrative generated without the book (43 in contrast to 15 clauses). Despite the difference in length, the former rendition showed no greater structural organization than the latter; both were assigned to the temporal chain level. In fact, as with Adam, Annie seemed to be giving a picture by picture description in her "with book" rendition, whereas she consolidated the pictured story and emphasized the important events by including no others in her "without book" rendition. Summary of Overall Structure The narratives told in the "without book" condition were a more accurate representation of the Coast Salish children's knowledge of narrative structure because they were not constrained by the information pictured in the book to the same degree they were in the "with book" condition. Therefore, the summary focuses on the results of the "without book" renditions. Susan produced a multiple causal chain with one causally embedded episode. Depending on what degree of explicitness I used to guide my analysis, Donny's narrative was either a multiple causal chain, similar to Susan's, with inferable goal and attempts; or it was an abbreviated causal chain, with 123 only initiating event and consequence overtly marked. The series of unsuccessful attempts to find the frog described by Susan and Donny in their narratives did not qualify as obstacles according to Lahey's (1988) and Stein's (1986) criteria and, therefore, according to the criteria of the present analysis. However, the description of repeated "plan application ... due to initial failure" (Peterson & McCabe 1983: 78) was indicative of a higher level of development than description of only a single attempt to reach the goal. Brian produced an abbreviated causal chain while Adam and Annie generated temporal chains. In all cases, the "without book" renditions of the frog story had at least slightly more structural organization to them than did the "with book" renditions. Developmental change in the overall structure of narratives progresses from the various subcategories of nongoal-based episodes (additive, temporal, and abbreviated causal chains) to goal-based episodes. Lahey (1988) notes that preschool children tell stories that are primarily additive and temporal chains. Stein (1986) found that 49% of children in kindergarten and 28% of children in grade three told stories that were nongoal-based in nature, while Peterson & McCabe (1983) noticed that there is a sharp decrease in the number of nongoal-based episodes told by children between 4 and 5 years of age. Berman noted that "children up to around age 5 have thus been shown lacking in the ability to produce sustained, hierarchically organized narratives" (1988: 488). She observed a sharp increase in children's ability to make explicit reference to plotline elements (problem, goal, and consequence) of a story at 5 years and then again at 7 years of age. In a study by Stein (1986) goal-based episodes made up approximately half of the narratives of children in 124 kindergarten and increased in occurrence to approximately three-quarters of the narratives of grade three students. According to Lahey (1988), 7- and 8-year-olds are capable of producing all story structure levels, but the predominant structure at this age is the goal-based causal chain (Peterson & McCabe 1983). According to episodic analysis, Susan and Donny generated narratives that were assigned to the goal-based chain level. Susan was more explicit than Donny in making reference to the goal-based action. She performed in a literate style of storytelling, much the same way as the American women in Tannen's (1982) study.1 Donny, on the other hand, was much more interactive in his storytelling style, relying to a large extent on the knowledge and context he and his audience shared. Both stories were assigned to a structural level in keeping with the expectations for performance by 6- and 7-year-olds according North American middle-class standards. Brian's narrative, although not goal-based in its entirety, contained most of the important components of goal-based chains. His narrative could be likened to the 25% of narratives by children in grade three in Stein's (1986) study that were not goal-based in structure. In his narrative, Brian exhibited developing skill in relating goal-based action, but did not maintain the structure throughout the narrative. Annie (5 years old) and Adam (6) represented the borderline between preschool- and school-aged children. Annie's frog narrative was limited to temporal connections, while Adam was beginning to incorporate causal elements into his temporal chain; 1 Tannen (1982) noted that Greek and American women telling stories based on a film differed in their storytelling style. The American women narrated the events of the story in decontextualized and literate manner, while the Greek women interacted more with their audience and drew on shared knowledge to convey their impression of the events in the film. 125 these causal elements were not yet explicit enough for his listeners to follow the plot of his story, however. Despite differences between the narratives of Adam and Annie, both were considered temporal chains, which is not atypical of the narratives told by the 5- and 6-year-old children reported in narrative development studies. It is interesting to note that Kay-Raining Bird & Vetter (1988) indicated that the Chippewa-Cree have particular rules about who can tell a story, and where and when it can be performed. They claimed that the younger Chippewa-Cree children were sensitive to these rules but were not as familiar with them as the older children. Kay-Raining Bird & Vetter, therefore, suggested that the lower episodic structural scores of the younger children in their study was caused by an ambivalence about the story telling task. These children told stories, but were uncertain as to whether they were breaking the rules. I am not aware of such rules among the Coast Salish, but this could be a factor in the lower structures attained by Adam and Annie. In terms of overall structure, the five children in the present study did not deviate significantly from the findings reported in the narrative development literature. Story Grammar Components As with the high point analysis, the inclusion or omission of particular narrative components is indicative of narrative development. This gauge of development was evident in the Coast Salish children's narratives. While Susan's and Donny's narratives were assigned to the same structural level, Susan showed greater development in her overt marking of story grammar components. A similar internal difference was evident between the narratives of Adam and Annie. This section will 126 discuss the findings regarding story grammar components in the narratives of the Coast Salish children in the following order: setting, initiating event, internal response, attempts, and consequence. 2 Setting. Three of the Coast Salish children included some setting information, introducing the boy and the frog and, in two cases, the dog. All three mentioned the fact that the boy went to sleep, thus setting the scene for the frog's escape. As the setting does not generally contribute directly to plot advancement, it was not the focus of most studies. In a few cases, the setting component was, in fact, provided as a story starter by the researchers themselves (Kay-Raining Bird & Vetter 1988; Stein 1986; Stein & Glenn 1982). Peterson & McCabe (1983) found that there was setting information in virtually all of the narratives by the children in their study (ages 3 to 9 years old). Although not essential to the comprehension of the story, the setting information included by Susan, Donny and Brian provided a fuller sense of the motivation and goals driving the boy throughout the story. The lack of setting component in the narratives of Adam and Annie distinguished them from the mainstream children reported in the literature. Initiating Event. In the present study, even Annie included some rudimentary expression (though perhaps unrecognizable to the naive listener) of the initiating event (e.g. "and it [frog] got out," Annie, Appendix D: 1, clause 2). Donny, Brian and 2 The criteria for determining the presence of story grammar components are included in chapter two on the following pages: 61 (setting and initiating event); and 62 (internal response, attempt and consequence). 127 Adam mentioned both that the frog escaped and that the boy discovered the frog's disappearance, while Susan included only the boy's discovery, leaving the escape to be inferred. In their study, Stein & Glenn (1982) found that three quarters of the children in kindergarten and grade three included an initiating event. Peterson & McCabe (1983) state that, while it was less central to the narrative than the setting and consequence, the initiating event was more often included than were the goal and attempt components. Initiating events become common in the stories of children in the late preschool and early school years. Berman (1988) noticed a sharp increase in the inclusion of all plotline information, but particularly initiating event information, at age 5. Three of the Coast Salish children included the initiating event and two did not; this did not appear to be atypical of children in similar age groups in previous studies. Internal Response (Goals). Susan, Donny and Brian made reference to goals in their narratives. Whereas the boy's goals had to be inferred from the initiating event and attempt categories in Susan's and Donny's narratives, Brian indicated the boy's goal explicitly and eloquently in the form of the boy's dialogue (e.g. "Where are you, froggie? I want you to come back," Appendix D: 1 clauses 7 - 8). Neither Adam nor Annie included any reference to the boy's goal. Stein & Glenn (1982) found that the internal response was often omitted in children's stories because goals could be inferred from almost any event in the story. They noted that approximately one half of the stories by children in kindergarten and three quarters of the stories by children in grade three contained the internal response component. Similarly, Berman (1988) 128 found that half of the 5-year-olds in her study, most of the 7-year-olds and all of the 9-year-olds included explicit reference to the goal of finding the frog. As children grow older they tend to include the goal component more frequently. This may be in the form of an internal response or in the form of the attempts the protagonist made to reach the goal. Internal response categories are later developing than attempt categories and the former generally co-occur with the mention of attempts in a narrative (Lahey 1988; Peterson & McCabe 1983). The goal in Donny's narrative was inferable, while the goals in Susan's and Brian's narratives were explicitly referred to in the attempt component and in the goal component, respectively. This pattern of developing skill in expressing the goal component was similar to the pattern portrayed in the narrative development literature. Attempt. The attempt category is closely tied to the goal category and often provides the information from which the goal can be inferred. Susan, Donny and Brian included attempts that were directly related to the problem presented in the initiating event and, therefore, represented goal-based action. Susan and Donny described the boy's repeated attempts to reach his goal (i.e. to find the frog), while Brian made only one reference to any such attempts: 10. and the kid looks out the window 11. and goes 12. "Frog, frog, where are you?" Adam and Annie did not describe any attempts, at least not any that were clear enough for a naive listener to follow. Stein & Glenn (1982) observed that 80% of children in kindergarten included 129 some expression of the attempt category, either as a description of the protagonist's plans or of the attempts themselves. Younger children (preschoolers) are more likely to omit the attempt component, while older children (early school age) almost always include it (Berman 1988; Lahey 1988; Peterson & McCabe 1983). Kay-Raining Bird & Vetter (1988) looked at the attempt category from the point of view of the kind of the attempt Chippewa-Cree children included in their narratives. They found that children between the ages of 5 and 7 included such events as escape, attack or intervention of a third party in the attempt sections of their narratives. Older children tended to include an attempt that was specific to the situation, or involved trickery or negotiation. Susan, Brian, and Donny included attempts that were specific to the situation of the frog's disappearance. These attempts were to look for and call for the frog. Although this kind of attempt appeared in the narratives of older children in Kay-Raining Bird and Vetter's study, I did not automatically assume that Susan, Brian and Donny were highly developed in their use of the attempt category because the attempts were originally scaffolded by the picture book. These children may not have included this kind of attempt if it had not been depicted in the book. Brian did not maintain a sense of the search motif throughout his narrative. In this way, he differed from the children in mainstream North American studies. In a similar vein, Adam and Annie did not, as Lahey (1988) notes about many young children, mention any goals or attempts. Annie was still young enough at the time of story collection to fit the mainstream pattern despite the omitted attempt category. Adam (6-5), on the other hand, was reaching an age at which it was atypical of the children reported in the literature to omit the attempt category entirely. It appears that 130 Susan, Donny and Annie met the expectations based on mainstream narrative development literature, while Brian and Adam did not. Consequence. All of the Coast Salish children included a consequence component in their narratives. The consequence in Brian's narrative seemed to have little to do with the body of his narrative; however, I could interpret a weak relationship between the beginning and the end of the story based on the initiating event and goal statement he described. Although Annie's consequence was not clearly related to the any initiating event or attempts, it was concise and came across as the result of the series of narrative events ("they got a frog; they took it with them," clauses 1 3 - 1 4 ) . Adam's consequence, as well, had a sense of finality ("and all the frogs came out and they gave one to {the fa-} the kid {and they wa-} and they said bye," clauses 29 - 32). Susan's and Donny's consequences contained a sense of goal accomplishment that was lacking in the other three narratives. Peterson & McCabe (1983) and Stein & Glenn (1982) found that virtually all the narratives in their samples included consequence categories. In the narratives of younger children, these were usually tied to the initiating event, and goals and/or attempts were lacking in the narratives. In the narratives of older children, the consequences were related to the initiating event, and also to the goals and/or attempts, which were included more frequently. The consequence in the older children's narratives was usually a direct result of an attempt to reach a goal. All of the narratives in the present study had at least a vague sense of consequence; however, there is a difference in the degree to which this consequence 131 was tied to the events of the narrative. Annie's consequence was the least connected in that it appeared to be merely another, albeit final, event in a series of chronologically ordered events. Susan's consequence was the most closely tied to the rest of the narrative, in that it was the explicit culmination of a series of attempts to reach a goal. Brian's consequence, which fell somewhere between the two in terms of connectedness, was not tied to the rest of the narrative to the degree expected of a child 8 years old. Otherwise, the Coast Salish children produced the consequence component to an extent that met expectations for performance portrayed in the mainstream narrative development literature. Story Retelling as a Recall Task. In The "without book" condition, the children retold their Frog narratives from memory. It is, therefore, reasonable to discuss the differences between the story grammar components included in the "with book" and "without book" conditions with reference to the recall study conducted by Mandler et al. (1980). In the present study, the narratives generated without the picture book by Susan, Brian, Donny and Adam contained all of the story grammar components originally included in their narratives generated with the picture book. The latter three children also managed to consolidate the plotline to some degree and include more story grammar components in the "without book" condition (see Table 9). Annie, on the other hand, included some indication of attempt to find the frog in her original frog narrative which was omitted in her narrative without the book: 16. next time they called the frog 17. "Frog!" 18. not in there 132 19. and not in there 20. or in the honey 21. or in the other thing 22. he looked in the tree 23. frog didn't know how to get up there 24. come down from way up there. (Appendix D: 2) Similar to the results of Mandler et al.'s (1980) study, the children in the present study tended to include the initiating event (i.e. that the frog was gone) and some sense of outcome (i.e. that the boy finds some frogs). Only three of the children included some useful setting information; these same three also included at least inferable information about the goals and/or attempts of the protagonist. Mandler et al. (1980) found that the American children in grade one were most likely to recall setting, beginning (initiating event), and outcome (consequence) components in their stories. Several of these children also recalled attempt components and a few of them recalled reaction (internal response) components. For American children in grade four, the order of most to least recalled components was the same as for the grade one children. The developmental difference was that the older children tended to remember more of the components overall. All of the children in the present study included the initiating event and the consequence in their "without book" renditions of the frog story, although not all of them clearly marked these sections as serving the function of initiating event and consequence. Only three of the children included setting and attempt components, while only one included explicit expression of the goal component. Except for the setting component, these five components were included in the same order of preference as they were recalled in Mandler et al.'s (1980) study. As was the case 133 with the comparison of the Coast Salish children's narratives to the story generation studies, their narratives matched the general pattern described in Mandler et al.'s story recall study. Summary of Frog Narratives Brian's narrative fit the abbreviated causal chain structure. It contained clear setting information, an initiating event, and only one attempt, but it did not contain a clearly related consequence. Brian differed from the pattern portrayed by the relevant literature in two ways. He did not maintain the goal-based action and he did not clearly tie the consequence to the body of his narrative. On the other hand, he was the only child in the present study to express the goal component overtly as the boy's vocally expressed emotional response to the frog's disappearance. Susan and Donny produced narratives that fit the multiple causal chain with an embedded episode, a structure typical of children aged 7 and older. While Susan included explicit reference to setting, initiating event, attempt and consequence, and her goal information was easily inferable, Donny's goal and attempt components had to be inferred from other events in the narrative and from his use of parallel structure. Both Adam and Annie produced temporal chains which were not atypical of children between the ages of 5 and 7. Adam's omission of the attempt category in his story was a little unusual, but not to the point it could have reflected a developmental delay according to mainstream North American expectations. Moreover, except for a poor use of pronominal reference, Adam may have produced an abbreviated causal chain as both initiating event and consequence components 134 were indicated. Annie, on the other hand, did not provide enough details for a naive listener to realize that she had included the most important events of the story, including initiating event and consequence. Except for the lack of strong goal-based connection between the events of Brian's narrative, the frog narratives of the Coast Salish children are comparable to those discussed in the research pertaining to narrative development by North American mainstream children. Personal Narratives Full episodic analysis was carried out on all of the personal narratives; however, after having carried out the analysis, I felt that, although episodi canalysis can be applied to personal narratives, high point analysis is more appropriate because of its focus on evaluative information. For this reason, this section will be brief. Table 10 shows the overall structure of each personal narrative and the story grammar components that make up each narrative, as well as the total number of clauses in each one. Brian produced a multiple causal chain consisting of one reactive causal chain with an embedded goal-based episode. The goal-based episode acts as the initiating event for the reactive chain. At the same time they constitute an entire goal-based episode in and of themselves as can be seen in the following clauses: 135 TABLE 10 Story Grammar Structure of Personal Narratives Subjects Brian Susan Donny Adam Annie Overall Structure Additive Chain Listing Concatenated actions Theme Description X X X Temporal Chain Causal Chain Abbreviated Reactive Goal - obstacle Goal + obstacle X X X X X Multiple Causal Chain Additive or Temporal Causal X Components of Story Grammar Setting X X X Initiating event X X X X Internal response: Plans & goals I I I Attempts I X Consequence X X I X Total Clauses 8 18 22 20 12 Legend: X = present in narrative I = inferable in narrative 5. I was riding down the hill 6. and {I didn't know which} I forgot which was my back brake 7. and I pulled my front brake 8. and I flipped off my bike. (Brian, Appendix C) Clause 5 provided setting information, clause 6 was the initiating event from which the goal (stopping the bike) could be inferred, clause 7 provided the attempt and clause 8 the result of that attempt. The order of presentation was not chronological, in that the reactive episode was presented succinctly at the beginning of the narrative (the abstract according to high point analysis) and the goal-based episode was added afterwards to elaborate on the events that led up to the narrator's injury. Donny told the story of his injury in the form of a goal-based narrative. Again the events were not chronologically presented, but the listener got a clear picture of how the injury happened and what was done to resolve the problem, as follows (my interaction with Donny is not included here): 1. and at Musqueam I fell on gravel 2. running too fast 3. it was about this big, Mom 4. {my Chris} my cousin Chris was chasing me 5. so I hadda get away some how 6. I don't wanna get tagged 7. and be it 8. cause we were playing tag 9. but that's when he was six 10. and I was five 11. 'cept now I am six 12. I went... my ... when some person dro ... his name is Wally 13. and he drove me to the hospital 14. cause it was this big 15. and it was going white 16. and it was bleeding too much 17. it was a piece ... little rock 18. they took the rock out 19. and hadda give me something to put on it 20. it's still in the washroom. 137 Setting information (clauses 4 - 1 1 ) was provided after Donny described the initiating event (clauses 1 - 3) to explain why this complication arose. The goal, to stop the bleeding, could be surmised from the description of the injury (clauses 14 -17). The description of the injury was provided after Donny mentioned the attempt (clauses 12 - 13) to explain why the attempt was necessary. The consequence (clauses 18 -20) provided a result to the attempt and brought the listener back to the present. Both this narrative and the one by Brian showed evidence of the essential story grammar components of a well-formed story. The lack of chronological presentation of the events was probably the result of speaking and planning at the same time. Their interaction with me gave Donny and Brian feedback as to what elements I needed, to understand the significance of their narratives. The narrative generated by Adam started off with good setting information, followed by a brief initiating event "and I fell down and I hit my lip" (Appendix C, clauses 7 - 8) and what initially appeared to be an automatic result of the initiating event "and I got stitches on my lip" (clause 9) This narrative was clearly a reactive chain to this point. To explain the need for stitches, however, Adam added motivating information that led to an attempt to deal with the injury (e.g. "and it all bleeding and I had to rush up to the hospital and get stitches," clauses 1 1 - 1 3 ) . In addition, Adam added information concerning the long term consequences of the injury. With this addendum, Adam's personal narrative was assigned to the a goal-based chain level. Susan's personal narrative was assigned to the level of abbreviated causal chain. She provided setting information, a initiating event, an attempt to deal with that 138 initiating event and a consequence. However, the attempt described could not have led directly to the consequence she described. There must have been other attempts as well as a specific goal involved in the real event that were not included in Susan's relation of this event. Because of my world experience, I could surmise that the injury must have been severe enough to go to a hospital. However, Susan did not include enough in the way of goals, plans, and attempts in her narrative to confirm the my assumptions. Annie's personal narrative is the least structured of the narratives generated in the present study. Her narrative started off with a listing of where her injuries were located on her body (clauses 1 - 7 below), followed by a description of the implement that caused the injury (clauses 8 - 9) and a set of actions that presumably described how the injury occurred (clauses 1 0 - 1 1 ) . This narrative was very difficult to follow; it was not clear what the object was that injured her nor how it caused the injury: 1. I got hurt on this side [On what side?] 2. on the left side [mhm; and what happened?] 3. got a scrape here 4. and here [mhm] 5. and up here 6. and over here 7. and on here [mhm] [And how did you do that?] 8. with, with one of those things 9. there there each cut part cut [mhm] 10. that's how it got scraped [Oh dear] 11. when I was trying to get my cousin's shoe a-way up there 12. name is Shawn." Annie's personal narrative was therefore assigned to the level of additive chain. The children in the present study produced personal narratives that were assigned to different levels of narrative structure than were their Frog narratives. In 139 the cases of Brian and Adam, the narrative structure was more complex in the personal narrative than in the Frog narrative while in the cases of Susan, Donny and Annie, the narrative structure was less complex. This indicates that it is important, as Lahey (1988) points out, to collect many different narrative samples in different contexts and regarding different topics in order to carry out a fair assessment of a child's narrative ability. It is interesting to note that, in the personal narratives of the Coast Salish children, the attempts to solve the problem of the injury -- where they were mentioned -- were carried out by someone else (e.g. "his name is Wally and he drove me to the hospital," Donny, clauses 1 2 - 1 3 ) . Peterson & McCabe (1983) discuss this type of occurrence in their episodic analysis of personal narratives. They note that there are many experiences in people's (particularly children's) lives over which they have no control. These types of experiences could explain a frequent lack of goals, plans, and attempts in the personal narratives of children. According to Peterson & McCabe, children recognize that one event causes another event but do not see their own involvement in the sequence. They therefore often relate the experience as a reactive causal chain. Both Brian and Adam's personal narratives had, at least initially, an automaticity to the narrative's initiating event-consequence relationship (e.g. "... I got a lot of cuts on my knee and then they all went away," Brian, clauses 2 - 3; and "and I hit my lip and I got stitches on my lip," Adam, clauses 8 - 9). Susan's narrative, as well, could be seen as a reactive sequence in terms of progression from hitting her knee to having four stitches on her knee. She did not 140 mention how theses stitches got there; from the listener's perspective they appeared automatically, perhaps by magic. Peterson & McCabe (1983) mention that the reactive sequence is an important structure in the personal narratives of all age groups and that a decrease in the number of narratives classified as reactive episodes is a reflection of a greater use of multiple episodes rather than a true decrease in the use of reactive sequences. Brian's narrative, which was a multiple causal chain containing a reactive chain, was an example of this kind of development. In producing a complex episode, Brian exhibited a high level of narrative structure for his age group. Less than half (38%) of the 7- and 8-year-olds in Peterson & McCabe's study produced complex episodes. As with the Frog narratives, the results of the episodic analysis of personal narratives by the Coast Salish children, with the possible exception of Annie, are comparable to the results of studies of mainstream North American children. Summary of the Chapter This chapter reports the results of the episodic analysis of the children's frog narratives and personal narratives. The overall structures of the children's narratives ranged from additive to multiple causal chains (one additive chain, two temporal chains, two abbreviated chains, two goal-based chains without obstacle, and three goal-based chains with obstacle - i.e. three multiple causal chains - not including the "with book" renditions of the frog story). Brian's and Adam's personal narratives were assigned to a higher structural level than their frog narratives, whereas the reverse was true of Susan's, Donny's and Annie's narratives. Brian's personal narrative was 141 assigned to the multiple causal chain level and contained an abbreviated and a goal-based episode. Susan's and Donny's frog narratives were assigned to the multiple causal level and contained two goal-based chains each. Susan's structural level was explicitly marked, while Donny's had to be inferred from the stylistic devices he used: conjunction so tying initiating event to first few ensuing events, expectations created by setting and initiating event, and parallel structure tying inferred attempts together. The internarrative difference was not great except in the case of Adam, who produced a temporal chain in retelling the frog story and a goal-based causal chain in relating a personal experience. Three of the Coast Salish children included at least inferable indication of the components of a goal-based chain (initiating event, goal or attempt, and consequence) in their frog narratives, and three of the children included these components in their personal narratives. Initiating event and consequence components were the most frequently included in both frog and personal narratives. Setting and goal and/or attempt components were included in at least three of the frog and three of the personal narratives. The structure and components of the Coast Salish children's narratives fit, for the most part, the pattern of story grammar structure and components reported in the narrative development literature. Some differences were evident in the narratives of Donny, Brian, Adam and Annie. Donny and Adam used implicit devices to convey the importance of sections of their narratives. They both used emphatic stress and parallel structure to a great degree to emphasize the importance of the initiating events and to tie the boy's search together. Adam was less effective in his use of 142 these devices, in that he did not support them with enough verbal information to communicate the relationships between events. Brian did not meet mainstream expectations in his use of the attempt and consequence categories, and yet the boy's goal in the frog narrative was eloquently expressed. Annie's ability to stay on the storytelling task seemed limited for her age, and her ability to verbally convey the events of both the frog and the personal narratives seemed weak according to mainstream standards; however, of all the interesting and funny events depicted in the picture book, Annie chose the most important to include in her narrative. This struck me as indicative of a high level of understanding of the story itself, which may have surpassed her ability to relate these events clearly to a listener. At this juncture, it is appropriate to remind the reader that I did originally share the context of the picture book with the children; this most certainly influenced how explicitly they chose to retell the frog story. The general level of development of the Coast Salish children was not atypical of the children in their age groups reported previously; however, the differences reported here are worth keeping in mind because they may be related to cultural difference in storytelling style or in traditional story structure. I expected the episodic analysis to reveal cultural differences similar to the high point analysis, but from a different perspective and of a different narrative type: frog narrative. The order in which the events were presented and the explicitness with which they were tied together were the two areas in which I expected to find differences. All of the Coast Salish children presented the story grammar components in the canonical order predicted by the mainstream research, but only Susan explicitly 143 tied the components together throughout the narrative. Donny explicitly mentioned the relationship between the first few events of the narrative, but then seemed to rely on the inferencing ability of the audience to understand relationships occurring later in the narrative. The other three children seemed to rely entirely on the juxtaposition of events to convey relationships. Adam and Annie included initiating event and consequence (though not adequately related to each other or to other events in their narratives), but omitted the setting. This is an unusual occurrence among mainstream children of any age and, therefore, distinguished these two Coast Salish children from other children reported in the literature. Generally, the episodic analysis of the frog narratives revealed that the Coast Salish children were capable of producing narratives that matched the structure described in the mainstream literature. Moreover, the order in which the events were presented fit the canonical order and, therefore, my predicitions for the Coast Salish children were not confirmed. However, the relationships between events were not, for the most part, not explicitly marked, and the children used some interesting devices to tie the narrative together: emphatic stress and parallel structure. These devices were not targeted by the episodic analysis, which means their prevalence in the narratives of mainstream children was not discussed in the literature reviewed. Except for Brian's narrative, the narratives in the present study were not demonstrably different from the narratives in the developmental literature. Differences might become apparent at a different level of analysis, perhaps in the analysis of the children's style of creating cohesive ties. To a certain extent, cohesive ties are a focus of the poetic analysis. 144 C H A P T E R FIVE POETIC ANALYSIS North American Indian "narratives more closely parallel our own poetic traditions than those of our prose style" (Scollon & Scollon 1981: 106). In the present study, the frog narratives in the "without book" condition were analyzed according to the poetic perspective. If the Coast Salish children's narrative retelling is guided by the same structures that organize the stories told in the traditional style of Native Indian adults described in the literature, the poetic analysis will reveal this organization. The poetic analysis reveals narrative structure in terms of lines, verses and stanzas rather than in terms of sentences and paragraphs. According to Gee, the stanza is "an important domain of internal patterning" (1988: 289). The internal pattern and content of the stanza captures a single vignette of the narrative, while simultaneously tying it to the narrative as a whole. The stanza marks a change in perspective: a change in anaphoric referent, focused participant, time frame, major action, or location. It can also signal a shift from narrative action to commentary or a departure from expectations (Gee 1988; Scollon & Scollon 1981). More subtle changes, such as the change in aspect between, for example, "returning home and arriving there" (Scollon & Scollon 1981: 111), are sometimes marked by stanza 145 boundaries. As defined in chapter two (pp 70 - 72), the stanza boundaries were initially determined by the presence of falling intonation on the last line of the preceding stanza and lexical marker on the first line of the following stanza. Once the initial boundaries were established, I checked their appropriateness by referring to the content of the stanzas they divided. A problem I encountered in relying of my interpretation of the content of the stanzas to guide my analysis was "to find some source of verification of the analysis" (Scollon & Scollon 1981: 106). This is true of any form of analysis, but particularly true of an analysis that requires one to put one's own cultural biases behind and don the biases of another culture. Although it was my intention to carry out the poetic analysis in an objective fashion, some of my decisions were necessarily influenced by my own sense of "good" narrative organization. As Scollon & Scollon (1981) pointed out, many of the values of bush consciousness differ from those of modern consciousness and are viewed in a negative light. My sense of good organization may not correspond to the Coast Salish sense of good organization. Nevertheless I formatted all of the children's frog narratives told without the book to represent the poetic structure; these are included them in Appendix E. In the appendix, I gave each stanza a heading that attempts to capture the content of that stanza. The stanzas are numbered with roman numerals, which are printed in uppercase letters (as are the headings). Stanzas are divided by three carriage returns, while verses are divided by two carriage returns. Each line, according to the 146 poetic analysis, is represented by a line of print.1 In Appendix E, it is clear how most of the stanzas represent a change in focused character, event, location, time or narrative function, and I have given each stanza a heading the attempts to capture this change. Please refer to this appendix for illustration of the comments in the discussion. In this chapter, I will first describe the poetic structure of each child's frog narrative (without book) individually, and then compare the structures of the five narratives. At first, the structures of these narratives appeared to share few common elements. A closer analysis, however, disclosed internarrative similarities worthy of note. Poetic Structure of the Frog Narratives Susan's Narrative Between stanzas I and II of Susan's narrative, there was a shift from setting information to the first main event. A shift in time frame that matched the example given by Scollon & Scollon -- "a storyteller saying 'I went to bed' and 'I got up' places these in separate stanzas" (Scollon & Scollon 1981: 111) -- was also marked by this boundary. The short second stanza, F R O G HAS D ISAPPEARED, described the event that triggered the rest of the narrative. Placing this piece of information into a separate stanza stressed the importance of this event. 1 The criteria for determining line and verse divisions are included in chapter two on pages 68 and 68 through 70, respectively. 147 The first verse of stanza IV, EXIT H O U S E T H R O U G H WINDOW, echoed the pattern of the first verse of stanza III, BOY S T A R T S S E A R C H . They were each three lines long and opened with the lexical stanza marker so. The first two lines of the verse contain two closely related actions followed by a statement of the narrative's theme (searching for the frog). The verb form of the third line of each stanza is the same (i.e. started VERBing). Stanza IV, EXIT T H R O U G H WINDOW is longer than the stanza III, and is one that I was inclined to split into two stanzas but for want of boundary markers. Between lines 16 and 17 there is a shift in anaphoric reference, from the boy to the dog, and in focus, from concern for the frog to concern for the dog. The unit was left as one stanza because the marking was missing and because there appeared to be a theme within this stanza tied together by the repetition of the word window. Each of the next three stanzas consisted of a single clause; the verb phrase in each of these clauses was, as above, started VERBing. These stanzas occurred at a point in the picture book when there was a movement from the house to the forest. Between these stanzas, Susan paused for 46 seconds; this reflected Susan's attempt to reconstruct, in her mind, the next events in the story. It is interesting to note that this was the only point in her narration at which she hesitated to this extent. I would conjecture that, although Susan did not purposefully pause to indicate passage of distance and time, this break occurred at a natural point in the narrative structure in her memory. In stanza VIII, BOY AND DOG NEAR A T R E E , two internal shifts in focused participant were marked by verse boundaries. These changes would, according to 148 Scollon & Scollon (1981), typically occur only at stanza boundaries; however, in this stanza, they may have come together because they shared a common time frame. The simultaneity of the events in this stanza, which was not clearly indicated syntactically, may have been indicated by Susan's inclusion of the co-occurring events within the same stanza. Stanza IX was straightforward, in that there was a single focused participant, a single time frame and a series of actions that form part of a single vignette. Stanza X, on the other hand, was the result of merging two smaller stanzas, originally established according to lexical and intonation markers. The grammatical subject changed from dog to bees, but the focus of the stanza was the beehive throughout. By combining the two originally established stanzas and viewing them as a unit, a sense of causal connection between lines 35 - 36 and 37 - 38 was strengthened. The content of stanzas XI and XII set up a series of events, the pattern of which was repeated in stanzas XIV and XVI. In stanzas XI and XIV, the boy approached a new location (rock and tree, respectively). Stanzas XII and XVI described the events that occurred once he had reached the new location. The boundary signalled a change in time frame (it allowed the time necessary for the boy to finish his climb), and it signalled a change in aspect (from approaching the location to arriving there). In each of stanzas XII and XVI, there was a change from boy as actor to boy as recipient of action; however, the focused participant of the stanza remained constant. Stanza XV, CALL FOR F R O G (THEME), separated stanza XIV from stanza XVI. In so doing, it momentarily suspended the narrative action at the turning point 149 within the narrative, while simultaneously tying these events to the central theme of the narrative. In stanza XVI, the grammatical subject changed from boy to deer to dog, but each line contains a repetition of the word deer, which tied the lines tightly together. The boundary between stanza XVI and stanza XVII, BOY AND DOG S P L A S H INTO WATER, marked a shift in aspect from being pushed into the water to actually splashing into it. Sound imagery tied the content of stanza XVII together. The splash of the boy and dog hitting the water, the sound heard by the boy and the boy's whispered Sh! were all elements that brought the boy and dog closer to finding the frog. The last two stanzas revolve around the discovery of the frogs themselves, they are separated from each other by the distinction between finding the frogs and being able to take one home. Looking through the narrative as a whole in Appendix E, one observes the great variety in stanza length and shape. A few stanzas contained more than one verse. These verse divisions seemed appropriate in that they separated pieces of information that focused on distinct events or that were of equal importance. For example, the SETTING had four short verses. Each verse provided background information that had equal importance in setting up a situation in which the rest of the narrative would be likely to occur. In BOY STARTS S E A R C H , the second verse was a single line presenting the actual (as opposed to the hoped-for) result of the boy's first attempt to find the frog. On occasion, the patterning of lines within the verse functioned to draw attention away from the grammatical subject to the participant. In 150 lines 34 and 47, which are noun phrases, the attention is drawn away from the animal and back to the boy. Lines were primarily one clause in length; however, several of the verse-final lines were prepositional phrases and verb phrases, while a few were noun phrases. Stanza final lines 9, 13, and 30, which were complete clauses, each mentioned that the frog was missing. The positioning within the stanza was emphatic and the repetition tied the narrative together around this theme. Line 43 rementioned the fact the boy still had not located the frog, but the emphasis in this stanza was the encounter with the owl, and thus, mention of the frog was not located at the end of the stanza. From this stanza to the end of the narrative, the boy continued to look for the frog, but other experiences became more immediately important. As mentioned above, some stanzas contained patterns that repeated themselves elsewhere in the narrative, and lines containing thematic information were placed strategically within the stanzas. The shape, length and internal patterning of a stanza appeared to be a powerful tool for signalling importance of events and for shaping the meaning of the narrative. Brian's Narrative Brian's narrative was quite different from Susan's. He spoke more rapidly than any of the other children in the study and ended most of his lines with pitch rise and nonterminal fall. As a result, the original analysis divided his narrative into only five stanzas. There were several lexical markers at points where a stanza boundary would have been appropriate. As Scollon & Scollon (1984) found that the teenagers 151 in their study used rising intonation to marker unit boundaries 2, I carried out a second, alternative analysis of Brian's narrative, in which stanza boundaries were established despite a lack of final intonation. The narratives structures according to both analyses are included in Appendix E. In the first analysis, each of the five stanzas was punctuated by dialogue. It is interesting to note that according to this analysis, dialogue occurred only at a stanza or verse boundary. In the first stanza, F R O G E S C A P E S , lines 1 through 6 provided the background information which enabled the ensuing events to occur; lines 7 through 9 presented the frog's actual escape, and lines 10 through 12 presented the "kid's" response to his discovery that the frog had gone. The last two lines also contained the dialogue that punctuated this first stanza. Within this stanza there are two time frame changes that would normally be divided into separate stanzas. These are the shift between the ongoing time frame of the kid having a frog, the time at which the kid fell asleep and the frog escaped and a later time, at which the kid woke up and discovered his loss. However, in this analysis I have chosen to think of them as all being part of the same theme that the frog disappeared. The second stanza is straightforward, containing the single event of beginning the frog search at the window. This stanza was punctuated by a reiteration of the kid's question/supplication, "Frog, frog, where are you?" (lines 1 6 - 1 8 ) . The next section, KID FINDS HONEY AND HOLES, contained several changes that suggested 2 The use of rising intonation at the end of a section was interpreted as a request for audience response. Audience participation in the narrative event was very important in the Athabaskan community, as it was one means by which the narrator could lead the audience to the appropriate interpretation of his narrative without impinging on their autonomy (Scollon & Scollon 1981, 1984). 152 the existence of more than one stanza. Despite the apparent changes in perspective (from window to bees to holes) and shifts in action (from jumping to looking to talking), these changes were included in the one stanza because the focused participant (i.e. the kid himself) remained the same. Another unifying factor about this stanza is that it took the attention away from the missing frog and transferred it to the exploration of the forest. The dialogue that punctuated both verses of this stanza did not contribute plot-advancing information; thus, their presumed role as boundary marker gained some validity. In the third stanza the kid was the actor, while in the fourth, KID E N C O U N T E R S OWL AND DEER, the kid was the object of some action. Despite the inclusion of two different animals that did two different actions, the kid's repeated role as recipient of their actions could be the unifying element of this stanza. At the end of this stanza, the kid became actor again. His dialogue, at this point, anticipated an important event, as yet unknown to the listener. The lines that contained the dialogue were delivered a little more quickly than other lines in the narrative; perhaps this was indicative of its importance as a turning point in the narrative. The last stanza, KID FINDS F R O G S , described how the kid found not only his lost frog, but also eighteen baby frogs. This stanza contained extensive dialogue; this dialogue, in addition to signalling the end a stanza, seemed to signal the end of the narrative itself. This final stanza had three verses in it; the first, which provided the information about finding the frogs was punctuated by dialogue; the second and third were entirely dialogue. 153 In the alternate analysis of Brian's narrative, I took into consideration Scollon & Scollon's (1984) finding that Athabaskan teenagers used rising intonation to mark the end of a section. Using the combination of lexical markers and rising intonation as the stanza boundary, I split the first stanza of the original analysis into SETTING, F R O G E S C A P E S , AND KID C A L L S FOR F R O G . The two divisions occurred at points when there was a change in focused participant and in time frame. Similar to Susan's first two stanzas, the stanza boundaries marked the passage of time from when the boy went to sleep to when he woke up to discover the disappearance of the frog. Though Brian did not explicitly describe the boy's waking up, it was inferable and the stanza boundaries helped to distinguish the time frames in which each of these initial events occurred. Stanza IV of the alternate analysis was the same as stanza II of the original analysis. It captured elements of a single vignette, KID AND DOG START S E A R C H , while, at the same time, reiterating the kid's concern for the frog's whereabouts. The next stanza, in which the kid and dog jumped out of the window, was a transitional stanza; the focus changed from indoors (in the preceding stanza) to outdoors (in the following stanza) and from looking for the frog to looking for honey. Stanzas VI and VII were combined in stanza III in the original analysis. Although KID FINDS HONEY and KID FINDS HOLES both shifted the focus away from the frog search, they differed in content, action and internal patterning. In KID FINDS HONEY, each line contained one action directly related to finding honey; these lines were of about equal length and said at a fast, but equal pace. KID FINDS HOLES, on the other hand, contained two actions, seeing the hole and commenting on it. The line length varied 154 between one and six words, but was usually less than four. The sequence of events related in this stanza was not entirely clear and the importance of the holes unknown. Repetition of the word hole throughout the stanza indicated that these events were somehow significant; the stanza did, at least, mark a shift in focus from the directed search for honey and a passage of distance and time. Perhaps, at this point, the kid was nondirected and merely enjoying the forest for all its surprises. The next three stanzas were originally contained in stanza IV. This stanza was split into three to denote the shift in actor from owl to deer to kid and to signify the passage of time between the kid's encounter with the owl and with the deer. KID H E A R S SOMETHING IN POND was separated from KID E N C O U N T E R S DEER because it was considered a very important event, leading directly to the discovery of the frogs. The noise in the pond and the kid's response to it, created a sense of suspense. The focus shifted dramatically from the deer's taunting to the possibilities the noise represented: would the kid finally find the frog or merely encounter yet another interfering animal. Stanza XI answered this question clearly: the kid found not only two adult frogs, but eighteen baby frogs as well. Placement of the noun phrase eighteen  babies on a separate line in stanza final position caused this quantity and the possibilities it entailed to stand out. The expectation that the kid would take a baby frog home with him was broken in the following stanza, KID L E A V E S F R O G S . This departure from expected events was appropriately marked by a stanza boundary. Another change marked by this boundary was the change in direction of the kid's movement; throughout most of the narrative, the kid was moving toward the frogs 155 while at the end he started moving away from them, from discovery to new search. It is possible that I misinterpreted Brian's last line, "gonna get another one" (line 63). I assumed it meant the kid was going off in search of a single frog elsewhere, when, in fact, it might have meant that he did take one of the baby frogs. Overall Brian provided less detail that was explicitly search-focused than did Susan. In Brian's narrative, several stanza boundaries seemed necessary to indicate shifts in focus or time that were not indicated with words. The boundaries between SETTING and F R O G E S C A P E S , F R O G E S C A P E S and KID C A L L S FOR F R O G , and KID FINDS HONEY and KID FINDS H O L E S were examples of these implicit shifts. In both Susan's and Brian's narratives, the frog's escape was contained within a short and precisely focused stanza. Framed in this unit, the event stood out as one of great impact. Most of the lines in Brian's narrative were complete clauses, though some were verb phrases and some were noun phrases. In KID E N C O U N T E R S OWL, the verb phrase was scared was separated into two lines; the presentation of this information was slowed by interlinear pauses which emphasized the emotion of fear. The explanation for this fear was presented quickly in a single line so as not (I surmised) to detract from the emotion itself. In KID H E A R S SOMETHING IN POND, lines 47 and 48 contained an implicit change in grammatical subject; though the information is all part of a single event, the line break at this point might be Brian's way of signalling this change in subject. 156 Donny's Narrative In addition to the lexical markers, such as so, and then, and now then, identified by Scollon & Scollon (1981) in their description of traditional Athabaskan narratives, these authors found that teenagers in their recall study used and urn to mark boundaries between the sections of their stories (Scollon & Scollon 1984). Along with other lexical markers, Donny also used and urn to signal stanza boundaries in his narrative. Similar to the beginning of Susan's and Brian's narratives, Donny's narrative started with a SETTING stanza which was followed by the important initiating event, F R O G E S C A P E S . The first verse of stanza I introduced the characters and the second provided the context in which the frog could escape. The last line of each verse was a verb phrase which emphasized the action rather than the actor in this stanza. The first three lines of stanza III, BOY D I S C O V E R S D I S A P P E A R A N C E , reiterate and expand on the content of stanza II. Then, at the fourth line of the stanza (line 14), there was a shift in the focused participant from frog to boy, and in the time frame from when the boy was asleep to when he woke up to find the frog missing. I would have expected a stanza boundary at this point, but it did not exist. This omission may be related to imperfections inherent in a developing narrative ability, or inherent in online planning and production. On the other hand, lines 11 through 13 could be considered background information for the foregrounded discovery of the frog's disappearance; at the same time, these lines could be an effective manner of tying this stanza closely to the previous one. 157 Stanza IV, BOY AND DOG BEGIN S E A R C H , marked a shift from discovery to action as did stanza III in Susan's narrative and stanza IV in Brian's narrative. As in Brian's narrative, the action of Donny's narrative started indoors and the transition from inside to outside was marked by a stanza boundary. DOG FALLS OUT THE WINDOW and BOY G E T S DOG are the transitional stanzas in Donny's narrative. The end of the former, stanza V, contained the solution (i.e. "and then the glass broke," line 32) to the problem (i.e. "the dog got his head stuck in the jar," lines 22 -23) presented at the end of the stanza IV. The separation of line 32 into a separate verse in stanza V allowed for a passage of time between falling out of the window and actually hitting the ground; it also allowed the breaking glass to stand out as a surprise and a shock. I would have liked to split this stanza between lines 27 and 28, because there was a shift in focus, in active participant and in action between the boy's search efforts and the dog's accident the dog. There was a lexical marker at this point, but the intonation preceding it was nonfinal. BOY G E T S DOG did not end with final intonation; however, Donny broke into a side comment at this point that was unrelated to the narrative per se. I made the assumption that, even if Donny had intended to continue this stanza, he lost track of its theme and moved onto a new vignette. Moreover, I assumed that a narrator is most likely to break the train of his narration at a natural break in the narrative's structure, rather than in the middle of a topic. The next two stanzas, S E A R C H BEGINS OUTSIDE and THEY FIND A BEEHIVE, have similar patterns, which also echo the first four lines (24 through 27) of stanza V. These two stanzas seem to act as orientation providers with the narrative 158 theme highlighted at the end of each stanza ("and then they started calling," line 27 and 42). Similarly lines 24 through 26 presented orienting action with the same theme highlighted in line 27. The repetition of this pattern was another reason for my inclination to create a boundary between lines 27 and 28. The next stanza, DOG LOOKS IN BEEHIVE, BOY IN HOLE, contained two focused participants involved in two activities. The inclusion of these separate events within the same stanza tightened the sense of their simultaneity. The two lines at the end of the stanza were included in a separate verse. While closely tied to the last line of the first verse, these two lines stood apart as the boy's internal response to the situation. This internal response led the listener to expect an event as yet unknown. This event was concisely presented in its own short stanza, M O U S E A P P E A R S . The stanza marked a change in focused participant and a departure from expectations. The boundary between stanzas XI and XII initially appeared misplaced to me. BOY L O O K S IN T R E E and BOY S E A R C H E S ON R O C K described two more locations in which the boy looks for his frog. The conflict with the owl stood out in its emphatic position at the end of stanza XI. However, the first verse of stanza XII appeared to have closer ties to the previous stanza than to the one in which it was located. Similar to the first few lines of stanza III, this verse could be considered background information for the rest of the stanza and a close link to the preceding stanza. The shift that was apparent at the boundary between these two stanzas was a shift in anaphoric reference from they, the boy and dog, to he, the boy. The third verse of stanza XII contained an important switch from narrative action to internal response; as in stanza IX, the internal response was highlighted by 159 placement in a separate verse. Donny recognized an error in his description of this response so he repeated it with correction in the fourth verse. Prosodic emphasis also helped to draw attention to this internal response and set up a feeling of suspense, which would not be relieved until the end of the following stanza. Stanza XIII contained a shift in anaphoric reference and a shift in focused participant. Further indications of an approaching encounter with the deer were presented in the body of this stanza. Despite the common element between stanza XII and stanza XIV, the boundary marked a distinction in time frame and in importance. Stanza XIV, BOY AND DOG LAND IN C R E E K , contained important transitional information presaging the discovery of the frogs. The information presented in this stanza was similarly segmented off in the narratives of Susan and Brian; this stanza marked the turning point between unsuccessful and successful attempts to find the frog. In Donny's narrative, the last two stanzas described the discovery of the frog family and the boy's acquisition of the entire family of frogs. The lexical markers in Donny's narrative were more often placed on a line alone than they were in Susan's or Brian's narratives. This could mean that Donny had more false starts than the other two, or it could mean that he was more aware of the function of these words as stanza markers and placed them prominently at the head of the stanzas. As with the others' narratives, the lines in Donny's narrative varied in length. The stanzas and verses also varied in length and set up varying patterns of content and pacing. A few repeating patterns emerged as were commented on in the above discussion. 160 Adam's Narrative Adam used and in conjunction with final intonation to indicate stanza boundaries. His narrative contained fewer stanzas than those of Susan, Brian and Donny. Though most of the boundaries were straightforward, I questioned the inclusion of line 1 in F R O G E S C A P E S . Line 1 described an event that occurred in a time frame and involved focused participants distinct from the rest of the stanza. As the time distinction was not explicitly indicated, the stanza boundary would have been helpful in signalling the passage of time between when the kid was awake and when the frog escaped. Another time shift occurred between stanza I and stanza II. The focus of the narrative shifted from the frog escaping to the boy discovering the frog's disappearance at this boundary. Stanza III, KID L O O K S IN BEEHIVE, marked the change in action from discovery to active search. In each of the other narratives discussed so far, this change was marked in a similar manner. BOY L O O K S IN BEEHIVE and BOY L O O K S IN M O U S E HOLE described distinct vignettes in different locations. However, the pattern of events in KID L O O K S IN B E E HIVE was repeated in KID L O O K S IN M O U S E HOLE. In each stanza, the kid called for the frog near the home of a forest dweller; in response to this call, the inhabitant came out of its dwelling. Stanza V focused on the dog's interest in the beehive. The stanza was split into two verses, the first of which described the dog barking at the bee nest. In this first verse, the dog was not making a direct attempt to get the beehive, while in the second, he made a successful attempt to reach the beehive. The verse boundary marked a difference in physical distance and degree of the dog's impact on the bees. 161 The verse boundary could have been considered a stanza boundary according to superficial marking; however, as the content of the two segments followed the same anaphoric reference and the same theme, I chose to merge these units into a single stanza. Stanza VI described the boy's encounter with the owl and stanza VII described the boy's encounter with the deer. The first three lines (29 through 31) of the latter stanza, KID RIDES DEER (AND FALLS O V E R CLIFF), echoed the pattern set up in stanzas III and IV. In this stanza, however, there was a direct connection between the appearance of the animal and the events that followed which was not present in stanzas III and IV. The expectation set up when the pattern was created (i.e. unsuccessful attempt to find the frog) was broken at the point the stanza VI departed from this pattern. As Gee (1988) explained regarding the internal pattern set up in one of the narratives in his study, this departure from expectation led to a change in possible outcome. In Adam's narrative, the change was from unsuccessful to successful attempt to find the frogs (stanzas VIII and IX). Adam's use of reference was weak according to mainstream English standards, but the separation of his narrative into stanza units helped to differentiate some of the implicit shifts in anaphoric reference. The first pronoun he occurred in the second stanza and the immediately preceding proper noun was frog. However, this he was not in reference to the frog; rather it referred to the kid. The boundary, therefore, may have been an implicit signal to indicate that he in stanza II was distinct from frog in stanza I. Similarly, the last mentioned grammatical subject in stanza VI was not the referent for the subject pronoun in stanza VII. Again, the boundary may 162 have helped to indicate a change that was not explicitly labelled. Between stanzas II and III and stanzas VII and VIII, there was a pronominal shift between singular and plural third person without explicit indication as to who the referents were. However, the stanza boundaries aided in distinguishing the focused participants. Lines varied in length and composition. Some were complete clauses and some were noun, verb or preposition phrases. Limiting the line, particularly the last line in a verse or stanza, to short phrases had the effect of stressing the content of those phrases. For example, the verses in stanza V end in bee nest and and broke respectively. The focus of the stanza became, therefore, the object of the dog's attention and the resulting action of the dog's attack on the tree. In stanza VIII, it was not any family that the kid and dog discovered over the wood, but a "family frogs." In the last stanza, "bye" stood alone indicating the kid's departure and punctuating the entire narrative. As with the other three narratives, patterns within stanzas were set up and repeated in Adam's narrative and the narrative was paced and accented through the variety of lines within it. Annie's Narrative: Annie's narrative was by far the shortest of the Coast Salish children's narratives. She provided the fewest details and included the smallest number of events that occurred in the pictured story. However, as I have mentioned before in the other analysis sections, Annie included the events of the greatest significance to the narrative itself. These sections were the frog's escape (stanza I), the boy's fall off 163 the rock (II) and subsequent encounter with the deer (III), the boy's and dog's fall into the water (IV), and subsequent encounter with the frog (V), and their opportunity take it home (VI). In other words, Annie abstracted (as did some of the teenagers in Scollon & Scollon's 1981 study) the barest essentials from the frog picture book. Considering that this abstract indicated the events in the story that Annie remembered, it suggested that her memory was organized around a story structure emphasizing these important events. Most lines in Annie's narrative were repeated at least once and every line ended with falling intonation. She did not use the lexical markers described by Scollon & Scollon (1981, 1984), but appeared to mark the boundaries between sections with a the question, "What's the other part?" or, on one occasion, "I forgot what part it is." Despite the fact that I did not provide any information in response to her question, she continued to use it to break up her narrative. In addition, she often answered her own question very quickly after having asked it. Her use of the question seemed to indicate that she viewed each set of lines, prefaced by the question, as a unit. Scollon & Scollon (1984) discussed the idea that when narrator and audience share a culture and share an understanding about an experience very little need be said by the narrator. The narrator gives the key piece of information (e.g. an action) and the audience fills in the supporting details (e.g. evaluation and motivation). If the audience was unable to fill in the supporting details, then these were fleshed out by the narrator; otherwise, they were not necessary. To some degree, Annie provided the key information, but did not provide enough details and support for her audience 164 to follow the events. It might be possible to surmise that Annie was not able to read her audience as skilfully as the other children and therefore did not see the need to add explanatory details or "cook up" her abstract. Comparison of Frog Narratives The overall stanza structure was similar across four of the coast Salish frog narratives, those of Susan, Brian, Donny, and Adam. Annie omitted most of the body of the narrative; her rendition of the frog narrative consisted of only SETTING, BOY E N C O U N T E R S DEER, BOY AND DOG FALL IN WATER, BOY H E A R S NOISE, BOY FINDS F R O G S , and BOY T A K E S F R O G H O M E . 3 The details within the stanzas of the other four narratives varied, but the essence of the stanzas was similar. The full narratives of these children tended to contain the following vignettes: SETTING F R O G E S C A P E S BOY D ISCOVERS D I S A P P E A R A N C E BOY S E A R C H E S INSIDE BOY AND DOG EXIT T H R O U G H WINDOW BOY AND DOG A P P R O A C H T R E E DOG INTERESTED IN BEEHIVE BOY LOOKS IN HOLE ANIMAL A P P E A R S BOY L O O K S IN T R E E (FINDS OWL) BOY LOOKS ON R O C K (FINDS DEER) BOY AND DOG FALL IN WATER BOY H E A R S NOISE BOY FINDS F R O G S BOY T A K E S ONE HOME Of the above listed vignettes, a number appeared to be optional without disrupting the 3 These stanza headings do not correspond to the headings in Appendix E; rather, they represent my attempt to generalize the events such that the similarities across the children's narratives may be noted. 165 gist of the narrative. Either F R O G E S C A P E S or BOY D I S C O V E R S D I S A P P E A R A N C E was omitted in two of the narratives; as long as one of these vignettes was included, the information in the other was easily inferable. Brian did not include BOY AND DOG A P P R O A C H T R E E . This information was inferable through bridging; the beehive was probably hanging in a tree, so, in order to find the honey in the beehive, the boy had to approach the tree. Brian also left out the vignette of the little animal appearing from its hole. This was not plot-advancing information and added little to the narrative. Adam omitted the entire section on the indoor search. He also neglected to mention the noise that was heard in the water. This was an important piece of information to the degree that it added a sense of suspense and anticipation to the narrative. Aside from these few omissions, these four narratives contained the same set of vignettes in, more or less, the same order. Order differences occurred primarily with regard to the dog's encounter with the bees and the boy's encounter with the little animal. As these were co-occurring events, it was not surprising to find a variation in order of presentation. Scollon & Scollon (1984) found that eight Athabaskan teenagers produced texts of a story on recall that had a similar structure and similar order of events despite great variation in length and detail. The same was true of the Coast Salish children. Gee (1988) found that, though one of the narratives in his study appeared disjointed, it actually contained strong internal ties in the form of repeating patterns. Leona set up patterns in the stanzas of her story that repeated in such a way as to create interlocking relationships connecting events to each other and to the narrative as a whole. In the present study, Susan, Brian, Donny and Adam created repeating 166 patterns that helped tie their narratives together in a similar interlocking manner. All the coast Salish children used devices such as topic chaining, parallelism, repetition, sound play and word stress to tie the stanzas together, just as Leona did in Gee's study. Scollon & Scollon (1981) noted that many Athabaskan storytellers use several lexical stanza markers during the course of a single narrative. In the present study, Susan used and then, then, and so, Brian used and then and then, Donny used and  then, so, and so, now, and and urn. Adam used simply and, and Annie used what's  the other part and I forgot what part it is. The variety of lexical markers used by the Coast Salish children was similar to the variety of markers used by both traditional storytellers and teenagers in school as noted by Scollon & Scollon (1981, 1984). The stanza divisions marked by these lexical devices helped to signal referent changes in Susan's, Donny's and Adam's narratives. They also helped to emphasize the frog's escape in all five narratives by setting it apart from the preceding setting and the ensuing narrative action. I did not observe the same function of the lines in the Coast Salish narratives as Scollon & Scollon (1981) found in the Athabaskan narratives. In other words, the correspondence of short, slowly delivered lines with narrative action and of long, rapidly delivered lines with explanation was not apparent in the narratives of the present study. However, the lines did serve to pace the narratives to some degree and to emphasize an aspect of an event by placing it on a separate line. Gee (1988) found that most of the stanzas in the two narratives he analyzed consisted of four "ideal" lines each. Though I did not attempt to represent the lines of the frog 167 narratives as ideal units, I noted that, even structured with a complete clause per line, the stanzas of these narratives would not have consistently measured four (or any other number) lines in length. The pattern of four sections (stanzas) in the Athabaskan narratives was no more apparent in the coast Salish narratives than the pattern of four lines per stanza. Susan's narrative was nineteen stanzas in length, Donny's was sixteen, Brian's alternate narrative was twelve, Adam's was nine and Annie's was six. Despite reasonable separation of the setting and epilogue information from the body of the narrative, I cannot claim that the pattern of these . narratives was four or any multiple of four. Gee (1988) argued that poetic structure is basic to human narrative. This structure may be hidden behind the literate style of mainstream culture, but according to Gee, it does exist. If this is true, then a narrative by any person is potentially analyzable into line and stanza. Despite this possibility, the narratives of the Coast Salish children were, in many ways, not like the narratives by "any" person. A few of their stylistic devices struck me as unusual. There seemed to be an excessive use of nonterminal intonation at the end of sentences in the narratives of Susan, Brian and Donny. These three children and Adam often broke off the intonation contour of a clause, thereby splitting the clause into subclausal units. These splits had the apparent effect of emphasizing one or each of the subclausal units. Susan and Donny made repeated use of the verb form started VERBing; this had the effect of tying the narrative together through parallel structuring and repeated reference to the narrative's theme. Brian and Adam both punctuated their narratives with bye as 168 spoken by one of the characters in the story. These stylistic devices may be purely idiosyncratic; then, again, they may not. Summary of the Chapter This chapter reports the results of the poetic analysis of the children's frog narratives told without the picture book. The individual descriptions and internarrative comparisons revealed a narrative structure common across the narratives that appeared to confirm my expectations. I expected the poetic analysis to reveal the structure of the Coast Salish children's narratives to be organized into stanza-like units, each one portraying a vignette of the narrative. I predicted that the boundaries between these units would be indicated by grammatic closure, intonation and lexical markers. Another prediction was that the poetic analysis would reveal patterns of organization based on four sections. Generally my expectations were met: the narratives were divisible into stanzas and the boundary markers coincided with the kinds of changes in perspective described by Scollon & Scollon (1981, 1984).4 Moreover, four of the children tended to organize their narratives around the same set of stanza topics. I was also struck by the unusual intonation patterns and line units, as well as the parallel structure that was evident in the children's narratives. On the other hand, the pattern of four was not apparent. If, as Gee suggested, any human speech can be organized into a poetic structure, then it would be interesting to see if 4 Scollon & Scollon (1981,1984) used perspective to refer a variety of points of view presented in the stanzas of the stories they analyzed. These included anaphoric reference, major action, focused participant, time frame, and distinction between narrative action and narrative comment. 169 other cultures do it in the same way as these Coast Salish children did. I predict that many of the intercultural differences will show up in an analysis of the cohesive devices used to tie the poetic structure together. Many of the findings of the poetic and the high point and episodic analyses are worthy of further investigation. It is my opinion that a combination of the poetic analysis with an analysis of narrative cohesion is most likely to capture the differences highlighted in this investigation. 170 C H A P T E R SIX S U M M A R Y AND CONCLUSIONS Narratives serve many functions within a given cultural group. As well as reflecting and transmitting the social values of that group, narratives provide children with a cognitive framework that is an important factor in the learning process. Where differences occur in the narrative style of different cultures, one would expect to find differences in the cognitive schema for narrative structure; in contrast, differences would not be expected for event schema. Thus, it is really important to view narrative structure as a representation of a discourse genre rather than as a direct representation of a cognitive schema. If these cultures coexist in the same community, the minority culture may find that their own narrative style clashes with the style valued at school (and in the community). Because information and stories are framed in different way, minority children suffer at school. Native Indians constitute one such minority in North America. "Even in highly urbanized settings many aspects of native American cultures persist as indicators of world views different from the dominant one" (Cronin 1982: 12). In this investigation, I set out to analyze the narratives of Coast Salish children, who attend school in an urban community. I expected to find that their narrative style differed from that of mainstream children, particularly in the following ways. I 171 predicted that the children would order the events of their narratives differently from the mainstream (i.e. action first then explanation, rather than the reverse), that they would express the relationships between events implicitly rather than explicitly, that they would organize the content of the narratives into vignettes or stanzas, with stanza boundaries indicated by intonation and lexical markers, and that they would organize their narratives into four major sections. In addition, I expected an omission of setting and consequence components to the narratives, because stories told by traditional Native storytellers tend to start in the middle of the action and to end without resolution. To explore the accuracy of my predictions, I collected personal experience and fictional narratives from five Coast Salish children between the ages of 5;0 and 8;6. The personal experience narratives were elicited by asking the children to tell me about an experience in which they had hurt themselves. The fictional narratives were elicited by asking the children to tell me a story based on a wordless picture book, Frog, where are you? (Mayer 1969), both with and without the book. These narratives, which were audiorecorded, were transcribed verbatim for analysis according to three analysis procedures: high point, which looks at narratives in terms of abstract, orientation, complicating action, evaluation, and resolution; episodic, which looks at narratives in terms of setting, initiating event, internal response (goal), attempt, and consequence; and poetic, which views narratives from the perspective of stanza, verse and line. High point analysis focused on the personal narratives; episodic analysis focused on the frog story told without the book. 172 The results of these three analysis procedures can be summarized as follows. The high point analysis of the personal narratives validated the prediction that the order of events would be action first, then explanation, whereas the episodic analysis of the frog narratives did not. The expectation that interevent relationships would be expressed implicitly was born out in both high point and episodic analyses, except in the cases of Donny's personal narrative and Susan's frog narrative. The implicit relationships seemed to be expressed through juxtaposition of events, word stress, and parallel structure or through interaction with the audience. As with the storytellers encountered by Scollon & Scollon (1981), the Coast Salish children elaborated on the events in their personal narratives primarily when I gave them feedback that I needed further explanation. Although the frog narratives matched the mainstream structure quite closely according to episodic analysis, two of the Coast Salish children omitted setting information, which was atypical of mainstream children and was consistent with my prediction. The poetic analysis was the most revealing of potential intercultural differences. Although I did not have a mainstream data base to compare to, my predictions, based on the studies of Native narratives, were born out by the results. Falling intonation, grammatic closure and lexical markers co-occurred in the narratives at points at which shifts in perspective (reference, action, focused participant, time frame, comment, etc.) took place. Moreover, the stanza structure was similar across four of the five frog narratives; despite variations in length, each narrative contained the same series of vignettes in essentially the same order. In each of the narratives, stanza boundaries helped to signal referent changes that were not explicitly marked and/or to 173 emphasize an event. Stylistic devices that helped tie the narrative together also became apparent in this analysis. The children used topic chaining, parallel structure, repetition, word stress, and sound play to help convey the significance of their narratives. Repeating patterns across stanzas were evident and these seemed to tie disparate events together. This investigation has revealed that the Coast Salish children use a number of stylistic devices that could reflect cultural differences, although some of them may fit general developmental patterns. Support for the argument that these are cultural differences, rather then developmental delays, is evident in the order that the children presented events, which differed between the personal and frog narratives. The order of presentation in the frog narratives (explanation followed by action) indicates that the children are capable of recognizing and relating events in an order predicted by mainstream narrative research, while the order of presentation in the personal narratives (action followed by explanation) indicates that the children's natural tendency is to report events in an order that contrasts with the order predicted by mainstream narrative research. Stylistic differences (such as the order events are presented in a narrative) may be widespread among Native children, which implies two things: one, that educators (and speech-language pathologists) need to be aware of these differences when they assess the language skills of Native children, and two, that further investigation is needed to explore these differences on a larger scale. Native children are overrepresented in the group of students who evidence lower school achievement. They enter school in a disadvantaged position due to cultural and dialect differences. Based on the findings of the present study, I would 174 argue that these differences are not insignificant and should be taken into consideration early in the literacy instruction of Native children. Educators and speech-language pathologist need to be aware of their own cultural expectations and how these influence their perception of Native (among other minority) children's work. It is important that educators expand their expectations to include what is known about the culture and dialect of Native children, for instance, the finding of the present study that these children use a variety of devices to achieve cohesion and mark relationships without using the explicit markers valued by mainstream educators. Teachers cannot be expected to become multidialectal to encompass all the different styles of their students, but they can be expected to broaden their horizons enough to help Native children become bidialectal by providing them with nonthreatening experience with the language of the classroom and the structure of stories used in teaching before expecting them to learn to read and write in this style. The children's own style of storytelling should be welcomed in the classroom and appreciated by the teacher and the students. Children speaking a nonstandard dialect of English need to develop a belief in the importance of the expression of their own experiences and perceptions. To believe in their own form of expression they need others to believe in it and encourage it. A preliminary sense of the structure of narratives by Coast Salish children was provided by this investigation. Further delineation and substantiation of this structure should be provided through further research. On the basis of the findings of the present study, the appropriate shape of future research in this area would be as follows. The study should be large scale involving both Native and mainstream White 175 (control group) children to allow for direct comparison. The ability to compare how different children talk about the same events was important for the poetic analysis of the present study, and would be critical in a crosscultural comparison. Although, the wordless picture book allowed me to do this, it would be valuable to provide the children in the larger study with the opportunity to give their own renditions of mainstream and Native stories. Hence, I would choose to follow Cronin (1982) in carrying out a story recall study with both mainstream and Native stories as stimuli. If, on the other hand, I wished to capture the children's own tendencies for structuring their narratives (e.g. the order in which they present events), I would choose to carry out a story generation study. Similar to Kay-Raining Bird & Vetter (1988), I would provide the children with story starters from which the children would generate their own fictional narratives. One of the story starters would be based on a theme or character that was known to be important in the Native Indian children's community. As the poetic analysis provided the most interesting information about the Coast Salish children's narratives (i.e. stanza form and content), I would choose to use the poetic analysis for the larger study. The differences highlighted by the high point and episodic analyses were of interest, but could easily be incorporated into the poetic analysis; however, the reverse is not true. I would supplement the results of the poetic analysis with an indepth look at cohesion, because some of the most intriguing findings of the present study were related to how the Coast Salish children tied together the events of their narratives. Moreover, the differences between the traditional discourse style of Native adults reported in the literature is, to a large 176 extent, related to how speakers establish cohesion and convey relationships between elements of discourse (Cooley & Lujan 1982). This investigation set out to answer the question: Is the structure of the narratives of Coast Salish children different from the structure of narratives of mainstream children? Although the study was descriptive in nature, the sample was small and comparison was to results of previous literature, the answer is a guarded, yes. The structure is different enough to warrant further investigation. So, though the present findings provide only global guidance to educators and speech-language pathologists, they provide definite guidelines for future research and intimations of the information further investigation could reveal. 177 BIBLIOGRAPHY Applebee, A .N. (1978). The Child's Concept of Story: Ages Two to Seventeen. 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Rhetoric in aboriginal discourse: stories and the art of persuasion. Working Paper, University of Victoria. Cooley, R. & Lujan, P. (1982). A structural analysis of speeches by native american students. In F.Barkin, E. A. Brandt, & J . Ornstein-Galicia (Eds.), Bilingualism and  Language Contact: Spanish, English and Native American Languages. New York, NY: Teachers College Press. Cronin, M. (1982). Cree children's knowledge of story structure: some guidelines for the classroom. Canadian Journal of Native Education 9 (4), 12-14. Gee, J .P . (1989). Two styles of narrative construction and their linguistic and educational implications. Discourse Processes 12, 287-307. 178 Haslett, B. (1986). A developmental analysis of children's narratives. In D. Ellis & W. Donohue (Eds.), Discourse and Language Processes. Hillsdale, NJ : Lawrence Erlbaum Associates. Heath, S.B. (1983). Ways with Words: Language, Life, and Work in Communities and  Classrooms. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Hildyard, A. & Olson, D.R. (1978). Memory and inferences in the comprehension of oral and written discourse. Discourse Processes 1, 91-117. Jacobs, M. (1959). The Content and Style of an Oral Literature: Clackamas Chinook  Myths and Tales. New York, NY: Wenner-Gren Foundation of Anthropological Research, Inc. Jacobs, M. (1964). Pattern in Cultural Anthropology. Illinois: Dorsey Press. Johnson, N.S. & Mandler, J .M. (1980). A tale of two structures: underlying and surface forms in stories. Poetics 9. 51-86. Kay-Raining Bird & Vetter (1988). An analysis of the stories of Chippewa-Cree children. Unpublished paper presented at ASHA. Kernan K.T. (1977). Semantic and expressive elaboration in children's narratives. In S. Ervin-Tripp & C. Mitchell-Kernan (Eds.), Child Discourse. New York, NY: Academic Press, Inc. Kintsch, W. & van Dijk, T. (1978). Toward a model of text comprehension and production. Psychological Review 85, 363-394. Kintsch, W. & Greene, E. (1978). The role of culture-specific schemata in the comprehension and recall of stories. Discourse Processes 1, 1-13. Kroeber, K. (1981). An introduction to the art of traditional American Indian narration. In K. Kroeber (Ed.), Traditional American Indian Literatures: Texts and Interpretations. Lincoln: University of Nebraska Press. Labov, W. (1972). Language in the Inner City: Studies in the Black English  Vernacular. Pennsylvania, PA: University of Pennsylvania Press, Inc. Labov, W. & Waletzky, J . (1967). Narrative analysis. In J . Helm (Ed.), Essays on the  Verbal and Visual Arts. Seattle: University of Washington Press. Mandler, J .M. (1984). Stories, Scripts and Scenes: Aspects of Schema Theory. Hillsdale, NJ : L. Erlbaum Associates 179 Mandler, J .M. & Johnson, N.S. (1977). Remembrance of things parsed: story structure and recall. Cognitive Psychology 9, 111-151. Mandler, J .M. , Scribner, S., Cole, M. & DeForest, M. (1980). Cross-cultural invariance in story recall. Child Development 51, 19-26. Martin, J.R. (1983). The development of register. In J . Fine & R. Freedle (Eds.), Developmental Issues in Discourse. Norwood, N J : Ablex. Mayer, M. (1969). Frog, Where are You? New York, NY: Dial Books for Young Readers. Milosky, L M . (1987). Narratives in the classroom. Seminars in Speech and Language 8 (4), 329-343. Page, J.L. & Stewart, S.R. (1985). Story grammar skills in school-age children. Topics  in Language Disorders 5 (2), 16-30. Peterson, C. & McCabe, A. (1983). Developmental Psvcholinguistics: Three Ways of  Looking at a Child's Narrative. New York, NY: Plenum Press. Ripich, D.N. & Griffith, P .L (1988). Narrative abilities of children with learning disabilities and nondisabled children: story structure, cohesion, and propositions. Journal of Learning Disabilities 21, 165-173. Rumelhart, D.E. (1977). Understanding and summarizing brief stories. In D. LaBerge & J . Samuels (Eds.), Basic Processes in Reading: Perception and Comprehension. Hillsdale, N.J.: Lawrence Erlbaum Associates. Scollon, R. & Scollon, S.B.K. (1981). Narrative, Literacy and Face in Interethnic  Communication. Norwood, NJ : Ablex Publishing Corporation. Scollon, R. & Scollon, S.B.K. (1984). Cooking it up and boiling it down: abstracts in Athabaskan children's story retellings. In D. Tannen (Ed.), Coherence in Spoken and  Written Discourse. Norwood, NJ : Ablex Publishing Corporation. Slobin, D.I. & Bocaz, A. (1988). Learning to talk about movement through time and space: the development of narrative abilities in Spanish and English. Lenquas  Modernas 15 (Universidad de Chile), 5-24. Smith, F. (1985). Reading without Nonsense. New York, NY: Teachers College Press. Stein, N.L. (1986). The development of children's storytelling skill. In M. Franklin & S. Barten (Eds.), Child Language: A Book of Readings. NY: Oxford University Press. 180 Stein N.L & Glenn, C .G. (1979). An analysis of story comprehension in elementary school children. In R.O. Freedle (Ed.), New Directions in Discourse Processing. Norwood, N.J.: Ablex. Stein, N.L & Glenn, C .G. (1982). Children's concept of time: the development of a story schema. In W.J . Friedman (Ed.), The Developmental Psychology of Time. New York, NY: Academic Press, Inc. Stein, N.L. & Nezworski, M.T. (1978). The effect of organization and instructional set on story memory. Discourse Processes 1, 177-193. Stein, N.L. & Policastro, M. (1984). The concept of a story: a comparison between children's and teacher's viewpoints. In H. Mandl, N.L. Stein & T. Trabasso (Eds.), Learning and Comprehension of Text. Hillsdale, N.J.: Erlbaum. Stein, N.L. & Trabasso, T. (1982). What's in a story: an approach to comprehension and instruction. In R. Glaser (Ed.), Advances in Instructional Psychology (Vol. 2). Hillsdale, N.J.: Erlbaum. Tafoya, T. (1982). Coyote's eyes: Native cognitive styles. Journal of American Indian  Education 21 (2), 21-33. Tannen, D. (1982). The oral/literate continuum in discourse. In D. Tannen (Ed.), Spoken and Written Language: Exploring Oralitv and Literacy. Norwood, N J : Ablex Publishing Corporation. Toelken, B. & Scott, T. (1981). Poetic retranslation and the "pretty languages" of Yellowman. In K. Kroeber (Ed.), Traditional Literatures of the American Indian: Texts  and Interpretations. Lincoln: University of Nebraska Press. Toohey, K. (1986). Minority educational failure: Is dialect a factor? Curriculum Inquiry 16 (2), 127-145. Trabasso, T., van den Broek, P. & Suh, S.Y. (1989). Logical necessity and transitivity of causal relations in stories. Discourse Processes 12, 1-25. Wason-Ellam, L. (1988). Developing the oral language of Native speakers through storytelling. Canadian Journal of Native Education 15 (2), 1-21. Watson-Gegeo, K.A. & Boggs, S T . (1977). From verbal play to talk story: the role of routines in speech events among Hawaiian children. In S. Ervin-Tripp & C. Mitchell-Kernan (Eds.), Child Discourse. New York, NY: Academic Press, Inc. 181 Westby, C .E . (1984). Development of narrative language abilities. In G.P. Wallach & K.G. Butler (Eds.), Language Learning Disabilities in School-age Children. Baltimore MD: Williams & Wilkins. 182 APPENDIX A FROG, WHERE ARE YOU? (MAYER 1969): P ICTURE BY PICTURE DESCRIPTION 1. Boy, dog and frog are in bedroom; boy and dog are watching frog who is in a jar. 2. Boy and dog are asleep in bed; frog is stepping out of the jar. 3. Boy and dog are awake and look at the empty jar from the end of the bed. 4. Boy looks in one of his boots; dog sticks his head in the jar. 5. Boy and dog are at window; boy is calling and dog has head stuck in the jar. 6. Dog is falling from window ledge; boy is watching him fall. 7. Boy is down on ground below window holding dog; dog is licking boy's face and there is broken glass on the ground. 8. Boy is calling towards forest; dog is sniffing at a line of bees coming from a hive at the edge of the forest. 9. Boy is calling into hole on the ground; dog is barking at bee hive. 10. Boy is holding nose as if in pain; a little animal is a hole entrance; dog is leaning against bee hive tree. 11. Bee hive is on the ground and the bees are exiting en masse; boy is up a tree looking in a hole. 12. Boy is on his back on the ground; an owl is at the entrance to the hole in the tree; the bees are chasing dog, who has run past boy. 13. Boy is holding his hand above his head as if to fend off owl, who is flying above him; boy is at the bottom of a large rock. 14. Boy is calling from the top of the rock; he is leaning against some things behind the rock that look like branches. 183 15. Boy is on top of a deer's head between its antlers (the "things" of the previous picture turn out to be these antlers); dog is almost entirely behind the rock where the deer is. 16. Deer is running towards a cliff with boy on his head; dog is running beside deer watching boy. 17. Deer stops at edge of cliff; boy and dog are falling over cliff towards a body of water. 18. Boy and dog splash into the water. 19. Boy is sitting in the water with dog on his head; boy has hand to his ear as if listening to something. 20. Boy is leaning against a log and saying "Sh" to dog who is now in the water beside boy. 21. Boy and dog look over to the other side of the log. 22. Boy and dog are on top of the log; two adult frogs are on the other side. 23. Nine baby frogs have joined the adult frogs (who are looking like proud parents). 24. The frogs are on top of the log facing towards the water; boy and dog are walking through the water away from the log; boy, who has one of the baby frogs, is looking back towards the family of frogs and waving. 184 APPENDIX B NARRATIVE ANALYSIS W O R K S H E E T N A M E : C O N T E X T : HIGH POINT ANALYSIS P A R T I. HIGH POINT C O M P O N E N T S A. BEGINNING: 1. Did the narrator start with some attention getter or stylized beginning so that you knew that a narrative was to take place? 2. Did the narrator present an abstract of the narrative before giving details? B. ORIENTATION: 1. Did the initial orientation give you enough information to understand what had happened? 2. Did you understand who was involved and where and when the event took place? 3. Did you know enough about the people and places to feel that you understood the point of the narrative? C. COMPLICATING ACTION: 1. Did the narrator describe specific events that lead up to the high point? 2. Did the narrator include description or indication of a high point or crisis? D. EVALUATION: 1. Do you know how the narrator felt about the complicating event? 2. Did the narrator provide suspense during the narration by stopping the sequence of action at the high point and elaborating? 3. Did the narrator use a variety of techniques to evaluate the events? 185 E. RESOLUTION: 1. Did the events that follow the evaluative high point resolve the crisis? 2. Did the resolution cap off the experience? F. ENDING: 1. Did the narrator let you know that the narrative was over? 2. Did the narrator inform you of any long-range consequences of the events? P A R T II. O V E R A L L L E V E L A. Was the narrative built around a recognizable high point or crisis. If not, this narrative has a primitive pattern and the following subquestions should be answered. 1. Did the narrator appear confused about the events being related or misuse language such that the narrative was difficult to understand? If so, this is a disoriented narrative. 2. Did the narrative consist of so few sentences that they formed no recognizable pattern? If so, this is an impoverished narrative. 3. Did the narrative contain a description of successive events with only temporal connections described? If so, this is a chronological narrative. 4. Did the narrative leap from one event to another, leaving out major events and making it difficult for the listener to reconstruct the original experience? If so, this is a leap-frog narrative. B. Was the narrative structured around a high point or crisis? If so, the narrative has a basic pattern and the following subquestions should be answered. 1. Did the narrative build to and dwell evaluatively on the high point, but end without resolving the crisis? If so, this is an end-at-the-high-point narrative. 2. Were the events leading up to the high point or crisis recapitulated in a well ordered series? Did the narrator emphasize evaluatively the point where the complication reached a peak and then resolve it? If so, this narrative fits the classic  pattern. O V E R A L L LEVEL ASSIGNMENT: C O M M E N T S ON HIGH POINT ANALYSIS: 186 EPISODIC ANALYSIS PART I. EPISODIC (STORY GRAMMAR) C O M P O N E N T S A. SETTING: Was information presented that allowed the initiating event to occur and set expectations and conditions for what followed? B. INITIATING EVENT OR COMPLICATION: Was there some change in the environment that served as a complicating event or problem of some sort? C. INTERNAL R E S P O N S E : If a person was involved: 1. Were the changes of state and thoughts of the person described? 2. Were the goals of the person described or easily inferred? 3. Were the plans of the person described or easily inferred? D. A T T E M P T S : Were the attempts to resolve the problem specified or easily inferred? E. C O N S E Q U E N C E OR RESOLUTION: 1. Was the complication resolved in some way? 2. If there were goals, were you told if they were achieved? 3. Were you told how the experience ended? F. REACTIONS: 1. Were the protagonist's emotional or cognitive responses to the resolution described? 2. Were events that occur as a direct response to goal attainment described? 3. Was a moral or a long ranging consequence to the resolution described? P A R T II. O V E R A L L L E V E L A. Were the propositions in the text essentially independent so that they could be moved about within the text without changing the meaning? If so, this narrative is an additive chain. B. Were some of the propositions sequentially related (that is, rearrangement of them would change the order of events that occurred), yet there was no cause-or-effect relation among them? If so, this narrative is a temporal chain. C. Was a problem or some disequilibrium described to which other propositions were causally related (by enabling or causing other states or events)? If so, the questions below should be answered. If only one such unit, or episode, is included, this narrative is a causal chain and D need not be answered. 187 1. Was the causal chain automatic and not related to goals or plans of another? If so, this is a reactive chain. 2. Was this basically a statement of a problem and some aspect of consequence with much information omitted (e.g., plans, goals, and perhaps even resolution)? If so, this is an abbreviated chain. 3. Was the causal chain free of an obstacle between complication and resolution? If so, this is a goal-based chain without obstacle. 4. Did an obstacle intervene in the process of trying to reach the goal? If so, this is a goal-based chain with obstable. D. Was there more than one causal chain or episode? If so, the narrative is a multiple  causal chain and the subquestions below should be answered. 1. Were the two episodes related in an additive or temporal fashion and not causally linked? 2. Did any of the episodes provide the cause, effect, or motivation for another episode? O V E R A L L LEVEL ASSIGNMENT: C O M M E N T S ON EPISODIC ANALYSIS: * The narrative analysis worksheet was developed from Lahey's (1988) narrative assessment procedure with adaptations based on Peterson & McCabe's (1983) descriptions of overall narrative structures and of the internal narrative components. 188 A P P E N D I X C T R A N S C R I P T I O N S O F P E R S O N A L N A R R A T I V E S B R I A N P e r s o n a l N a r r a t i v e [ H a v e y o u e v e r hurt y o u r s e l f ? ] Y e a h . [What h a p p e n e d ? ] 1. {I I} I w i p e d out on my bi k e 2. {and} a n d {I} I got {a} a lot of c u t s o n my k n e e 3. a n d t h e n t h e y a l l went a w a y [Oh] 4. a n d I got it o n my e l b o w t o o [How d i d y o u hurt y o u r s e l f o n y o u r bike?] 5. I w a s riding d o wn t h e hill 6. a n d {I I didn't know which} I forgot w h i c h w a s my b a c k b r a k e 7. a n d {I} I p u l l e d my front b r a k e 8. a n d I {fl} f l i p p e d off my bike [Oh g o s h . I bet that hurt.] Y e a h . [You didn't h a v e to go to the h o s p i t a l for that though, d i d y o u ? ] Nope. [Did y o u hurt y o u r s e l f a n y o t h e r time?] Nope. [No. L u c k y kid.] But I do got a lot of cuts. S U S A N P e r s o n a l N a r r a t i v e [ Have y o u e v e r really hurt y o u r s e l f ? ] (Nod) [What h a p p e n e d ? ] 1. I b a n g e d my k n e e out on o n e of t h o s e b a r s out there [How did you do that? Tell me about it.] 2. I was gonna go get a soccer ball [mmhmm] 3. and I banged it real hard 4. and then I just {urn} ran up the hill 5. and I threw the ball onto the hill 6. and then I went to come to show my mom 7. and my dad thought 8. it was just a little blackberry scratch [Oh no. But it wasn't. So when did you bang it; when did you hurt you arm? You knee?] {yeah} [Sorry] 9. I don't know 10. when was it? (to mom) [Mom: Three weeks ago.] 11. three weeks ago 12. yeah, it was 3 weeks ago [So you did it when you hit the ball.] 13. no, I hit the bar [Oh, the bar.] 14. see [Good Heavens! How come there are all these marks here?] 15. I had stitches [How many?] 16. three [Three stitches, wow so it...] 17. no, it was four wasn't it? 18. yeah, I had four [It was slightly more than a blackberry scratch, wasn't it?] DONNY Personal Narrative [Have you ever hurt yourself?] Lots of times. Look at. . . [Can you think about one time?] Look at my legs. [Good Heavens. What happened?] Been falling off my bike and crashing and (pokies) and stuff like that. [How did that happen?] 190 Easy. Just put my brakes on too fast and flip over my bike. [Good Heavens!] 1. and at Musqueam, I fell on gravel 2. running too fast 3. it was about this big, mom [Why were you running too fast?] 4. I don't know 5. my Chris, my cousin Chris was chasing me 6. so I hadda get away some how 7. I don't wanna get tagged 8. and be it [Is that what he'd do to you?] 9. cause we were playing tag 10. but, that's when he was six 11. and I was five [Oh, so he's a bit older than you are.] 12. 'cept now I am six 13. {I went, my} When some person dro... his name is Wally 14. and he drove me to the hospital [Oh. Why?] 15. cause it was this big 16. and it was going white 17. and it was bleeding too much [Mom: There was something stuck in it. What was it?] 18. it was a piece ... little rock [Oh. And what happened at the hospital? 19. they took the rock out 20. and hadda give me something to put on it 21. it's still in the washroom [Oh really.] 22. I'll go and get it? A D A M Personal Narrative [Have you ever hurt yourself?] Yep. [What happened?] {I was I was} Me and my mom was having a race at Coltis and I fell on the rocks and I got a big scab on my elbow and here. [Why were you racing?] Cause I said, if {you wa} you wanna race and she said, yeah. And she beat me and I fell down. And I cried cause it hurt. [Did you hurt yourself any other time? No. Not that you can remember.] 1. on my lip [What happened to your lip?] 2. I was over at {urn} that old house 3. and I fell off the {urn} ... 4. we're 'avin' a race up the stairs 5. and I was standing down real close to the edge of the little balcony 6. and there was glass down below 7. and I fell down 8. and I hit my lip 9. and I got stitches on my lip [Good Heavens. You landed on the glass. How many stitches? Two.] 10. one. [Mom knows best, eh?] 11. and it all bleeding 12. and I had to rush up to the hospital 13. and get stitches [Did that one hurt lots and lots too?] 14. nahuh 15. just sometime 16. just twice a day [Just twice a day.] 17. and it got better 18. even I had to take pills for the thing for my elbow 19. and it got gone gone real quick 20. and that one wasn't gone yet [Were the pills for the pain?] Yeah. And I had two medicines. One to rub it all over my thing and one for after my mom throwed it in. And it "went down fast and I drunk my water after that. ANNIE Personal Narrative [Did you ever hurt yourself? What happened?] 1. I got hurt on this side [On what side?] 2. on the left side [mhm] [And what happened?] 3. got a scrape here 4. and here [mhm] 5. and up here 6. and over here 7. and on here [mhm] [And how did you do that?] 8. with, with one of those things 9. there there each cut part cut [mhm] 10. that's how it got scraped [Oh dear] 11. when I was trying to get my cousin's shoe a-way up there 12. name is Shawn [Name is Shawn?] Yeah? [You were there with Shawn?] Yeah. [Oh, I see. Were you hurt any other time? Did you hurt yourself really badly any other time?] Nope. [What happened to Desiree?] She got a headache. [How did that happen] When she was riding her bike. When she fell down. {Let's hear let's hear ourselves talk again.} [Was there anything else that happened with Desiree?] She went to the hospital. 193 APPENDIX D TRASCRIPTIONS F R O G NARRATIVES 1. "Without book" Condition BRIAN Frog Story without Book 1. once upon a time 2. there was a little kid 3. and he had a frog 4. then {th-} the little kid went to sleep 5. {and then} and then {the} the frog escaped 6. and then the kid {g-} goes 7. "Where are you froggie? 8. I want you to come back" 9. and then the dog {puts} looks in the {door} drawer 10. and then the kid looks out the window 11. and goes 12. "Frog, frog, where are you?" 13. {urn} and then {the ki} the dog jumps out the window 14. and then the kid jumps out the window 15. and then {the frog, I mean} the kid sees bees 16. and then he goes 17. and looks for honey 18. and he finds honey 19. then the kid goes 20. "Oh, what's that hole?" 21. the kid looks at another tree 22. and it's a hole 23. and then {then} another hole 24. and he goes 25. "oh, another hole" 26. and then the kid was scared 27. cause the owl was scaring him 28. and then {the} the deer pulled down his pants 29. and then the deer threw him off 30. and landed in the {pond} pond 31. and he goes 32. "Sh! I hear something" 33. {urn} and then he saw the two little frogs 34. and then {with} with eighteen babies 35. and {then there} then the kid goes 36. "Bye" 37. "Bye" 38. "See you froggie 39. gonna get another one" 40. the end S U S A N Frog Story without book 1. a little boy caught a frog 2. he put him in a jar 3. it was night time 4. and the little boy was tired 5. he went to sleep with the little dog 6. and then he woke up 7. to check on the frog 8. and the frog was gone 9. so he got up 10. he got dressed 11. and then he started looking all over for the frog 12. and the frog wasn't anywhere 13. so he went to the window 14. and he opened the window up 15. then he started calling for the frog 16. the dog fell out of the window 17. so the boy jumped out 18. and went 19. and got him 20. {and then they} and then they started walking 21. and then they started calling for the frog {and} 22. and then they started walking down the path farther 23. then they came to a tree 24. {where the} and there was a beehive there 25. and the dog was barking 26. the little boy was looking down a hole for the frog 27. but the frog wasn't there 195 28. then this animal came out 29. and jumped 30. and bit the little boy's nose 31. {then} and then the little dog pushed the beehive down from the tree 32. and then a whole bunch of bees came out of the beehive 33. and then the little boy went to a tree 34. and started climbing it 35. and then he looked in the hole 36. and he didn't see frog 37. but he seen a owl 38. the owl pushed him out 39. and then it flew over the little boy's head 40. and he pushed him down 41. and the dog started running 42. and the bees were chasing him 43. then the little boy climbed a rock 44. and then he started looking 45. and calling for the frog 46. and then he fell onto a deer's head 47. and then the deer started running 48. and the dog followed the deer 49. the deer pushed the little boy and the dog into the water 50. and then, Splash! 51. then the little boy heard a noise 52. he went 53. he got onto shore 54. 'n then he said 55. "Sh!" 56. and then the little boy looked {he} 57. and the dog looked over a log 58. and there was the frog family 59. and they had babies too 60. then the little boy found a frog, too 61. and they lived happily ever after DONNY Frog Story without book 1. the frog was in the jar 2. while the boy and the dog were watching him 3. and the boy and the dog fell asleep 4. {and urn} and the frog took a step out 5. {and then} and then {urn} the frog took a step out 6. and started hopping away 7. {the boy and the frog urn} the boy and the dog looked in the jar 8. and the jar wasn't there 9. {I mean} the frog wasn't in the jar [mmm] 10. so the boy looked up the stink boot 11. and while the dog got his head stuck in the jar 12. so {the} they both looked out the window 13. they both looked out the window 14. and then they started calling 15. and then the dog fell out 16. the dog fell out of the window 17. and then the glass broke 18. so the boy got on the big fat boots as fast as he can 19. and then his feet {start} starting to sweat 20. and {urn} he caught the dog 21. and dog started {gl} licking him {Can I take this off? 'kay.} 22. now they went {m} by a big fat tree 23. and then they started calling 24. {and then urn} and then they saw a beehive 25. and then they started calling again 26. and then they went over 27. and {urn} the dog tried to get the beehive {to see if the dog} 28. to see if the frog was in there 29. and the frog wasn't in there 30. while the boy was looking in the hole 31. and he said 32. "Phew! Something stinks" 33. and {urn} here a mouse popped out 34. and so they went over to a big rock 35. no, they went over to a big tree 36. while the bees were chasing the dog 37. and the owl booted the boy out 38. and {urn} the boy fell out 39. and stuck up his feet 40. and then the boy went over to a rock 41. {and started} and started to call 42. and {went up} climbed up the rock 43. and he didn't know that these, the deer's horns were bushes 44. he thought they were bushes 45. so, the dog sniffing around the {urn} {they were sniffing} 46. he was {sti} sniffing around the rock 47. cause he smelled something 48. and then the dog started running away from the deer 49. and the deer had the boy [mmm] 50. so the deer stopped 51. and the boy and the dog fell down into the creek 52. and then the boy sat up 53. and said 54. "Sh! " 55. 'n the dog went 56. "Gulp, gulp, gulp, gulp" 57. {and um} they looked 58. both looked around the log 59. and there they were 60. happily and ever after 61. so they took Willy away 62. and the whole family came 63. finished A D A M Frog Story without Book 1. the kid was awake in the dark time 2. and the frog got out of the bowl thing 3. and he was awake 4. and he looked into the bowl thing 5. and he was gone 6. and they went over to look 7. and he was calling out loud 8. and the bees came out 9. {and and the} and he yelled in the hole 10. and the mouse came out 11. {and th-} and {he} the dog started to bark at the {bee} bee nest 12. and {the um he} he went over to the tree 13. and shook the tree 14. and it fell down 15. and broke 16. {and} and the kid climbed up the tree 17. and sat on the branch 18. and the owl came out 19. and came out of the grass 20. he was yelling out loud 21. {and} and the deer came 22. and he got on that 23. and {he we-} they started to come to a cliff 24. and he stopped 25. and the dog fell off 26. and the kid fell off 27. and they {we-} came over to a wood 28. and {ss} they saw a family, family frogs 29. and {n} all frogs came out 30. and they gave one to {the fa} the kid 31. {and they wa-} and they said 32. "bye" ANNIE Frog Story without Book 1. the frog was in there 2. and it got out [Don't speak so close it makes it... okay? and he got out] 3. and he got out {what's the other part? what's other part?} [you know it better than I do] {I don't} 4. he fell [where did he fall?] 5. off the rock {I forgot what part it is} 6. the deer [mmm?] 7. the deer [the deer] {sigh} 8. the deer [mhm] {what's other part?} 9. they fell in the water [uhuh] 10. they fell in the water {hey what happened to that} [that's to pick up your voice] {got a sore up here} [oh] {what's the other part} 11. they got a frog 12. they went to go frog {what's the other part} [they got a frog] 13. they got a frog [yep you said that. Is there anything else that happened?] 14. they took it with them [good] 15. they took it with them [mhm] 199 2. "With book" Condition BRIAN Frog Story with Book 1. once upon a time 2. there was a little kid 3. who caught a frog 4. and he put him in his bedroom 5. and then he went to sleep 5. and the frog got out of the jar 6. and the kid woke up 7. and the dog woke up 8. and they looked at their frog 9. and {they} then they put on their clothes 10. and then the dog put on the jar 11. and then the kid goes 12. "Where are you little froggy?" 13. and the dog jumps out 14. and the kid gets the dog 15. and then the kid yells again 16. and then bees come after them 17. and then the dog tries to get the honey 18. and the kid found {s-} a hole 19. and something came out 20. and then the dog got the bees nest down 21. and the bees started chasing 22. and the kid found another hole 23. and the kid fell down 24. and the bees chased the dog {and then the, what is that called?} [that's an owl] 25. and then a owl started chasing the kid 26. and the kid climbed up on a rock 27. and {f-} found a deer 28. and then the deer got up 29. and said 30. "ow" 31. then he flinged them off, him and the dog 32. and then they landed in a pond 33. and then the dog gets on the kid's head 34. and then the kid goes 35. "sh! I hear something" 36. then they look 37. and there's the frog with five little babies 38. and then they go 39. "bye" 40. "bye" S U S A N Frog Story with Book 1. it was nightime 2. and the little boy had a frog in a jar 3. and {b-} the little boy was tired 4. and he was happy too 5. so he went to sleep with his dog 6. and the frog hopped out of the jar 7. the little boy and the dog woke up to check on the frog 8. the frog was gone 9. the little boy got dressed 10. he looked everywhere 11. then he went to his window 12. and opened it up 13. and he started calling for the frog 14. the dog fell out of the window 15. the little boy jumped out too 16. the little boy and the dog went out to find the frog 17. the little boy started calling 18. then they went walking farther down into the woods 19. the boy called 20. and called 21. he called into a hole 22. but there was no answer 23. the dog saw a beehive 24. bees were going out and in 25. dog started barking 26. this little animal came out of the hole 27. and bit the little boy's nose 28. {the dog dropped} the beehive dropped the beehive's nest 29. and all the bees flew out 30. then the little boy climbed a tree 31. and he looked in a hole 32. and a owl came out 33. and pushed the little boy down 34. and the dog {star} ran past him 35. and a whole bunch of bees chased him 36. the owl {flew as the little boy} flew over his {he-}, the little boy's head 37. as the little boy was climbing a rock 38. the boy started calling for the frog 39. and then he fell onto a deer's head 40. the deer started running 41. and the dog ran with the deer too 42. the deer dropped the little boy and the dog into the water 43. Splash! 44. {the little} the little boy heard a sound 45. he said 46. "sh!" to the dog 47. they climbed over onto the log 48. and there was the two frogs 49. they had babies 50. and the little boy found a frog too 51. and they were all happy 52. that's the end DONNY Frog Story with Book 1. the frog was in the jar 2. and the boy and the dog watched him 3. soon the dog and the boy were asleep 4. and the frog {took a} took a step out 5. and hopped away 6. and {urn} the dog and the boy woke up 7. and saw that there was no frog in the jar 8. the dog looked in 9. sniffed in the jar 10. and got his head stuck in there 11. and the boy looked up 12. and the boy looked up the boot 13. {and urn} and they looked out the window 14. {and the puff} and the dog got scared 15. and jumped 16. and the glass broke 17. and the boy put on the big fat boots 18. and hopped out {giggle} onto the glass 19. {and urn and /ka/} and jump 20. and caught the dog 21. and the dog licked him 22. so they went out 23. and found some bees coming out or into their hive 24. and then the dog tried to go up into the hive 25. while the boy looked in the hole 26. and the boy smelled something stink {and urn, and what it this?} [doesn't matter] 27. the mouse {giggle} failed out of there 28. and the dog climbed up the tree 29. and the dog, and the dog 30. somehow the hive fell 31. and all the bees came out 32. and the dog was still on the tree 33. and the boy was going {into} into a tree {and um} 34. well the bees chased after him 35. and the owl scared the boy {and then they all} 36. and then they both went up to a rock 37. and the {um} dog was {um} running round the rock 38. to sniff around 39. and the boy was calling the {um} frog 40. and the boy climbed up it 41. and started calling again 42. and then a deer popped out 43. and then ran after the dog 44. and the dog ran 45. and the boy was on him 46. and the deer stopped 47. and they both went flying down 48. and fell {in a} in a pond 49. {and they} and the boy sat up 50. and the dog was on his head [chuckle] 51. and {um} he said 52. "Sh! " 53. and the dog went 54. "pwitsh, wisht" 55. and they both looked around 56. and they found him with his girlfriend [oh wow] 57. and {they} they both grabbed Willy {or whatever his name is, Willy} 58. and then the baby hopped up 59. and then all their family came 60. done A D A M Frog Story with Book 1. the kid was sleeping 2. and he woke up 3. when the dog was climbing on him 4. and he put on his boots 5. and the dog was in the glass 6. and he jump off 7. it broke 8. and he climbed out his window 9. and the dog jump 10. and the dog broke the glass 11. and the kid jump out too 12. all the bumble bees came out from the {bee} bumble bee nest 13. and the kid went over to the hole 14. and he yelled 15. and he looked in the hole 16. and he said 17. "Is anyone in there?" 18. all the bees went into their nest 19. {and the little kli-} and the little kid climbed up {his} the tree 20. and looked in there 21. and the doggie come up the Ii ... 22. he shook the tree 23. and the thing fell down 24. and broke 25. and the mouse came out 26. and {the} he jumped down 27. and fell on his back 28. and the dog started to take off 29. {and he was} and the owl came out 30. and the little kid and the owl came out 31. and the kid climbed up the rock 32. and says 33. "Anyone ..." [mhm] 34. and the dog was down below the rock 35. {and the deer} and the kid was on the deer 36. and the dog was running too fast 37. they went off {th-} the cliff 38. and {they} the dog fell off 39. and the kid fell off into the water 40. Psheeeeee! [mhm] 41. right on the butt 42. and they climbed over the wood 43. and said 44. "Sh, sh!" 45. and they were over the wood 46. and there was two frogs down below 47. there was a whole bunch of them 48. and they're all on the wood 49. when they're walking on and on 50. and they say 51. "Bye-bye" 52. end ANNIE Frog Story with Book 1. the frog {went} was trying to get out [good] 2. and the next time the frog was trying to get out 3. and it got out 4. and it's gone 5. where did it go? 6. into the forest [Oh. Good. 'Kay] {giggle} [What's there?] 7. he got the jar stuck on his head [hm] 8. and the other one got stuck on his head again {why the music not on yet} [... keep reading, tell me the story. It's good] 9. it wasn't in the hat 10. or the boot 11. or the jar {giggle} 12. seem like he's gonna be dead [Oh.] 13. he crashed 14. look it cracked 15. and the next time {what's in the other room?} [We can go look when we're finished reading the book, okay?] {yeah} 16. {urn} the next time he fell down {we're almost finished} [mhm] 17. next time they called the frog 18. "Frog!" 19. not in there 20. and not in there 21. or in the honey 22. or in the other thing 23. he looked in the tree [mhm] 24. frog didn't know how to get up there [Don't think so] 25. come down from way up there [mmm] {What happened to it anyways?} [I don't know] 26. all the bees chasing the dog [ah ooo] 27. next time he went on a big rock [mhm] 28. {and the} and did he fell off? 205 29. or is he going up? [I don't know. What do you think?] 30. he fell [Oh. And then] 31. he was on the rock [mhm] 32. last time {he was} he was {what's that?} [Is it a deer?] {no} [I don't know. You tell me] 33. {urn} a deer [oh] {we saw when we were living down there [mhm] and went to my my gramma's} [Oh did you? So what happens now?] 34. He fall downs 35. think like he's dead 36. and he failed in the water 37. start running down down the stream [oh dear] 38. last time they were out 39. they were right there 40. and the dog was swimming [mhm. What did they do now?] 41. they trying to say 42. "Sh ! Be quiet." 43. and all the frogs said 44. goodbye 206 APPENDIX E POETIC S T R U C T U R E BRIAN Frog Story without Book I. F R O G E S C A P E S 1 1. once upon a time 2. there was a 3. little kid 4. and he [who] had a frog. 5. then 6. th- the little kid went to sleep 7. and then 8. and then [at which time] {the} 9. the frog escaped. 10. and then the kid g- goes, 11. "Where are you froggie? 12. I want you to come back." \. II. KID AND DOG START S E A R C H 13. (and) then the dog {puts} looks in the door drawer 14. and then [while] the kid looks out the window 15. and goes 16. "Frog 17. frog 18. where are you?" \. 1 The format used to represent the poetic structure of the frog narratives is as follows. Each stanza is given a heading printed in upper case letters and numbered with roman numerals (also upper case). Stanzas are divided by three carriage returns while verses are divided by two carriage returns. Each line, according to the poetic analysis, is represented by a line of print. Falling intonation at the end of a line is demarcated by a back slash. For information regarding how the lines, verses and stanzas were established refer to pages 69 through 73 in chapter two. 207 III. KID FINDS HONEY AND HOLES 19. um 20. (and) then {the ki} the dog jumps out the window. 21. (and) then the 22. kid jumps out the window. 23. (and) then {the frog, I mean} the kid 24. sees bees. 25. (and) then he goes 26. and looks for honey 27. and he finds honey. 28. then 29. the kid goes, 30. "Oh 31. what's that hole?" \. 32. the kid looks at another tree. 33. (and) it's a hole. 34. (and) then 35. then another 36. hole. 37. (and) he goes 38. "oh 39. another hole." \. IV. KID E N C O U N T E R S OWL AND D E E R 40. (and) then the kid 41. was 42. scared 43. cause the owl was scaring him. 44. (and) then {the} 45. the deer pulled down his pants. 46. (and) then 47. the deer threw him off 48. and landed in the pond pond. 49. (and) he goes, 50. "Sh! 51. I hear something" \. V. KID FINDS F R O G S 52. {um} (and) then he saw the two little frogs 53. (and) then 54. {with} 55. with 56. eighteen babies. 57. (and)then 58. there 59. then the kid goes 60. "Bye" \. 61. "Bye" \. 62. "see you froggie. 63. gonna get another one." 64. The end \. Alternate Analysis I. SETTING 1. once upon a time 2. there was a 3. little kid 4. and he [who] had a frog. 5. then 6. th- the little kid went to sleep II. F R O G E S C A P E S 7. and then 8. and then [at which time] {the} 9. the frog escaped. 111. KID C A L L S FOR F R O G 10. and then the kid g- goes, 11. "Where are you froggie? 12. I want you to come back." V IV. KID AND DOG START S E A R C H 13. (and) .then the dog {puts} looks in the door drawer 14. and then [while] the kid looks out the window 15. and goes 16. "Frog 17. frog 18. where are you?" \. V. DOG AND KID J U M P OUT WINDOW 19. um 20. (and) then {the ki} the dog jumps out the window. 21. (and) then the 22. kid jumps out the window. VI. KID FINDS HONEY 23. (and) then {the frog, I mean} the kid 24. sees bees. 25. (and) then he goes 26. and looks for honey 27. and he finds honey. VII. KID FINDS HOLES 28. then 29. the kid goes, 30. "Oh 31. what's that hole?" \. 32. the kid looks at another tree. 33. (and) it's a hole. 34. (and) then 35. then another 36. hole. 37. (and) he goes 38. "oh 39. another hole." V VIII. KID E N C O U N T E R S OWL 40. (and) then the kid 41. was 42. scared 43. cause the owl was scaring him. IX. KID E N C O U N T E R S DEER 44. (and) then {the} 45. the deer pulled down his pants. X. KID H E A R S SOMETHING IN POND 46. (and) then 47. the deer threw him off 48. and landed in the pond pond. 49. (and) he goes, 50. "Sh ! 51. I hear something" \. XI. KID FINDS F R O G S 52. {um} (and) then he saw the two little frogs 53. (and) then 54. {with} 55. with 56. eighteen babies. XII. KID L E A V E S F R O G S 57. (and) then 58. there 59. then the kid goes 60. "Bye" \. 61. "Bye" \. 62. "see you froggie. 63. gonna get another one." 64. The end \. S U S A N Frog Story without book I. SETTING 1. a little boy 2. caught a frog V 3. he put him in a jar \. 4. it was night time \ 5. and the little boy was tired \. 6. he went to sleep 7. with the little dog \. II. F R O G HAS D I S A P P E A R E D 8. and then he woke up to check on the frog 9. and [but] the frog was gone \. III. BOY S T A R T S S E A R C H 10. so he got up. 11. he got dressed. 12. (and) then he started looking all over for the frog \. 13. (and) the frog wasn't anywhere \. IV. EXIT H O U S E T H R O U G H WINDOW 14. so he went to the window. 15. (and) he opened the window up. 16. then he started calling for the frog \. 17. the dog fell out of the window. 18. so the boy jumped out 19. and went 20. and got him \. V. BOY AND DOG WALK AWAY F R O M H O U S E 21. {and then they} (and) then they started walking \. VI. BOY AND DOG C A L L FOR F R O G (THEME) 22. (and) then they started calling for the frog \. VII. BOY AND DOG WALK FARTHER 23. and 24. (and) then they started walking 25. down the path farther \. VIII. BOY AND DOG NEAR A T R E E 26. then they came to a tree \ 27. {where the} and there was a beehive there \. 28. (and) the dog was barking \. 212 29. the little boy was looking down a hole for the frog \ 30. but the frog wasn't there \. IX. ANIMAL BITES BOY 31. then this animal came out 32. and jumped 33. and bit 34. the little boy's nose \. X. B E E S A R E A N G R Y 35. {then} (and) then the little dog 36. pushed the beehive down from the tree \. 37. (and) then a whole bunch of bees came out 38. of the beehive \. XI. BOY CLIMBS T R E E 39. (and) then the little boy 40. went to a tree \ 41. and started climbing it \. XII. E N C O U N T E R WITH OWL 42. (and) then he looked in the hole. 43. (and) he didn't see frog 44. but he seen a owl \. 45. the owl pushed him out. 46. (and) then it flew over 47. the little boy's head \. 48. (and) he pushed him down \. XIII. B E E S C H A S E DOG 49. (and) then the dog started running 50. and [because] the bees were chasing him \. XIV. BOY CLIMBS R O C K 51. then the little boy climbed a rock \. XV. C A L L FOR F R O G (THEME) 52. (and) then he started looking 53. and calling for the frog \. XVI. E N C O U N T E R WITH DEER 54. (and) then he fell onto a deer's head \. 55. (and) then the deer started running 56. and [so] the dog followed the deer \. 57. the deer pushed the little boy and the dog 58. into the water \. XVII. BOY AND DOG S P L A S H INTO WATER 59. (and) then, Splash! \. XVIII. BOY H E A R S NOISE 60. then the little boy heard a noise \. 61. he went. 62. he got onto shore 63. 'n then 64. he said, "Sh!" \. XIX. BOY FINDS F R O G S 65. (and) then the little boy looked {he} 66. and the dog looked 67. over a log \. 68. (and) there was the frog family \. 69. (and) they had babies too \. XX. BOY G E T S TO HAVE A F R O G 70. then the little boy found a frog, too \. 71. (and) they lived happily ever after V I. SETTING 1. the frog 2. was in the jar 3. while the boy 4. and the dog 5. were watching him \. 6. (and) the boy 7. and the dog 8. fell asleep \. DONNY Frog Story without book II. F R O G E S C A P E S 9. and um 10. (and) the frog took a step out \. III. BOY DISCOVERS D I S A P P E A R A N C E 11. {and then} (and) then 12. {um} the frog took a step out 13. and started hopping away. 14. {the boy and the frog um} the boy 15. and the dog 16. looked 17. in the jar 18. {and the jar wasn't there} \ 19. {I mean} the frog wasn't in the jar\. [mmm] IV. BOY AND DOG BEGIN S E A R C H 20. so 21. the boy looked up the stink boot 22. and well [while] the dog got his head stuck in the 23. jar \. V. DOG FALLS OUT THE WINDOW 24. so the they 25. both looked out the window. 26. they both looked out the window. 27. (and) then they started calling. 28. (and) then the 29. dog fell out. 30. the dog fell out 31. of the window \. 32. (and) then the glass broke \. VI. BOY G E T S DOG 33. so 34. the boy got on the big fat boots as fast as he can 35. (and) then his feet start starting to sweat. 36. (and) um 37. he caught the dog 38. and [so] dog started {gl} licking him. {Can I take this off? 'kay.} VII. S E A R C H BEGINS OUTSIDE 39. now 40. they went {m} 41. by a big fat tree. 42. (and) then they started calling \. VIII. DOG L O O K S IN BEEHIVE 43. {and then 44. um} (and) then they saw a beehive. 45. (and) then they started calling again \. IX. DOG LOOKS IN BEEHIVE, BOY IN HOLE 46. (and) then they went over 47. and um 48. the dog 49. tried to get the beehive 50. {to see if the dog was} 51. to see if the frog was in there 52. and [but] the frog wasn't in there. 53. while the boy was looking in the hole \. 54. (and) he said, "Phew! 55. Something stinks" \. 216 X. M O U S E A P P E A R S 56. (and) um 57. here 58. a mouse 59. popped out \. XI. BOY L O O K S IN T R E E 60. (and) so they went over 61. to a big rock. 62. no 63. they went over to a big tree. 64. while the bees were chasing the dog. 65. and the owl booted the boy out \. XII. BOY S E A R C H E S ON R O C K 66. (and) um the boy fell out 67. and stuck up his feet. 68. (and) then 69. the boy went over to a rock 70. {and started} 71. and starting to call \ 72. and {went up} climbed up the rock \. 73. (and) he didn't know 74. that these 75. the deer's horns were bushes \. 76. he thought they were bushes \. XIII. DOG FINDS D E E R 77. so 78. the dog 79. sniffing around the um 80. they were sniffing 81. he was {sti} sniffing around the rock 82. cause he smelled something. 83. (and) then the dog started running away from the deer. 84. (and) the deer had the boy. [hmm] XIV. BOY AND DOG LAND IN C R E E K 85. so the deer stopped. 86. (and) the boy 87. and the dog fell 88. down into the creek. 89. (and) then 90. the boy sat up 91. and said " S h ! " \ . 92. 'n the dog went "Gulp, gulp, gulp, gulp" \. XV. BOY AND DOG FIND F R O G S 93. {and um} 94. they looked 95. both looked around 96. the log. 97. (and) there they were 98. happily and ever after \. XVI. THEY TAKE F R O G S HOME 99. so they took Willy away 100. and the whole family came \. 101. finished. A D A M Frog Story without Book I. F R O G E S C A P E S 1. the kid was awake in the dark time. 2. (and) the frog got out 3. of the bowl thing \. II. KID D I S C O V E R S D I S A P P E A R A N C E 4. (and) 5. he was awake 6. and [so] he looked into the bowl thing 7. and [but] he was gone V III. KID LOOKS IN B E E HIVE 8. (and) they went over to look. 9. (and) 10. he was calling out loud. 11. (and) the bees came out \. IV. KID L O O K S IN M O U S E HOLE 12. and 13. and the 14 (and) he yelled in the hole 15. and [so] the mouse came out \. V. DOG B R E A K S B E E HIVE 16. and th-17. (and) he the dog started to bark at the bee 18. bee nest \. 19. (and) {the um} 20. he he went over to the tree 21. and shook the tree. 22. (and) it fell down 23. and broke \. VI. KID L O O K S IN OWL T R E E 24. and 25. (and) the kid climbed up the tree 26. and sat on the branch. 27. (and) the owl came out 28. and came out of the grass \. VII. KID RIDES DEER (AND FALLS OVER CLIFF) 29. he was yelling out loud. 30. and 31. (and) the deer came 32. and [so] he got on that. 33. {and he we-} they started to come to a cliff. 34. (and) he stopped 35. and the dog fell off 36. and the kid fell off \. VIII. KID FINDS F R O G S 37. (and) they {we-} came over to a wood 38. and [where] {ss} they saw a family 39. family frogs \. IX. KID G E T S TO HAVE A F R O G 40. (and) {n} all frogs came out \. 41. (and)they gave one 42. to {the fa} the kid 43. {and they wa} 44. and they said 45. "bye" \. [great] ANNIE Frog Story without Book I. F R O G E S C A P E S 1. the frog was in there \. 2. and it got out \. [Don't speak so close it makes it... okay? and he got out] 3. and he got out \. II. BOY FALLS {what's the other part? what's other part?} [you know it better than I do] {I don't} 4. he fell\ [where did he fall?] 5. off the rock \. III. A DEER (IS IMPORTANT) {I forgot what part it is} 6. the deer\ [mmm?] 7. the deer\ [the deer] {sigh} 8. the deer\ [mhm] IV. BOY (AND DOG) FALLS IN WATER {what's other part?} 9. they fell in the water \. [uhuh] 10. they fell in the water \. {hey, what happened to that [that's picking up your voice]} {got a sore up here} V. BOY G E T S F R O G {what's the other part} 11. they 12. got a frog \. 13. they went to go frog \. 220 VI. BOY T A K E S F R O G HOME {what's the other part [they got a frog]} 14. they got a frog \. [yep you said that. Is there anything else that happened?] 15. they took it with them \. [good] 16. they took it with them \. [mhm] 

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