Personal preferences

When is it proper, or possible, to speak of the emergence of a child's aesthetic sense? Do young children perceive beauty, in a meaningful way? Do they really prefer this to that, on a level that differs from mere whim, or instinct, or random choice?

Cleo, well into her third year, sometimes spends discernible effort in arranging items in rather neat ways. A spoon will be placed virtually parallel to a yogurt container; her monkey George nudged and jostled until he sits upright. But only sometimes: it's easy to find examples, as well, in which she seems clearly content with chaos, with disorder, with canted angles.

Do her choices in clothing reveal much? Again, not really. We often hold up a couple of possible outfits, allowing her a degree of input. And she seems, at first blush, to be decisive: Cleo wear flower pajamas, or wear red heart shirt. But more often than not such courses of action seem driven more by rote routine rather than taste; today's outfit is chosen because she wore it two days ago, and so on.

This morning, though, a hint of something more personal, more meaningful. In the car, before heading to campus, Cleo asked me to turn on the radio, for some music. I did, and we heard a d.j. on the classical station giving the news, in a restrained voice. Cleo let a few moments pass, and then said Better music. Um, okay, and I showed her how to operate the tuning buttons. We soon hit upon a bouncy, lively pop song. She listened, and then, again, lowered the boom: too loud. Want quiet music. And so again up the range of frequencies, until we found the classical station once more, now playing a meditative piano piece. Is this okay, Cleo? Yes, she assented. And we rode to school, accompanied by music that was both quiet and better.