There’s a popular animation of a portion of a TED talk on changing educational paradigms. It makes some good points. Other treatises on education about improved technology can similarly make some good points. However. Kids still have to be able to spell, to write, to do arithmetic and higher math, and have basic knowledge about their world. In some ways, the proliferation of technology makes it MORE important to master the traditional subjects, so that we're not manipulated by the technology.
It’s not possible, of course, to do an exhaustive study of any one subject. The fact that it’s not possible, though, doesn’t mean we should cease to attempt any study of the subjects at all.
Sometimes we need to find new ways to teach a subject. Because of a child’s gifts, strengths, weaknesses, quirks, or a combination of some or all of the previous, the so-called traditional way (what was or has been used in the last fifty to one hundred fifty years) may not work for that child. When that happens, we look for alternatives. One of my children thrives with a workbook approach to spelling. The other one needs a more multisensory, rules-based curriculum with a lot of review. The latter curriculum does not “look” like what many expect of a spelling curriculum. She’s still learning to spell (albeit, at times, somewhat slowly and painfully, but that’s not related to the curriclum).
Sometimes we have to add a new subject to the curriculum. Computer programming was rarely taught to any but an interested minority even fifteen years ago. Today, I would allege that some basic understanding of programming principles is essential. Most people would do well to know basic HTML. One hundred years ago, humanity’s knowledge in most scientific fields was a mere fraction of what has been catalogued today. The Neo-Darwinian Synthesis alone changed biology significantly, and that’s just one small fraction of what’s been learned in just one main area of science.
Sometimes we have to change when a subject is taught. Nearly forty years ago, my mother learned typing in high school. Teaching it sooner was not considered necessary. I learned to type twenty years ago, in junior high. Times were changing, and it was considered necessary at a younger age. Today, I’m requiring my daughter to master typing before finishing fifth grade. The technology has changed, and I want her to be the master of it, not at its mercy.
What doesn’t need to change are the skills. A well-educated citizen still needs to be able to communicate clearly and competently, both in speech and in print. A well-educated citizen needs to be able to comprehend what she or he reads or hears, whether it’s from a podcast, on the radio, on paper, or scrolling by on computer screen. A well-educated citizen needs to understand mathematics. A well-educated citizen needs to be protected against manipulation by the forces that would manipulate him or her: the media, large corporations, politicians, and advertisements are only a few.
Doing something differently, or a new way, for the sake of doing it differently or in a new way does not result in academic excellence. It will not result in children who are magically better prepared for the future world of work. Doing something because it is different or new is as foolish as doing something solely because it is the way it has “always been done.” Of course we should evaluate and re-evaluate our curricula, our approaches, our goals, and our overall course of study for our children; evaluation is a necessary part of teaching. Deciding to approach a a subject differently for no other reason than it is “outside the box,” however, is no better than deciding to teach only history that happened before World War I, because that’s how it was done in the 1920s. Both approaches are foolishly short-sighted, and remind us, again and again, that we must begin with the end in mind.
Showing posts with label homeschool: goals. Show all posts
Showing posts with label homeschool: goals. Show all posts
28.12.10
Goals and The Dread Flu
In addition to Christmas, we were invaded last week by a vicious flu. A vicious, vicious flu that slowly made the rounds through us all; myself, EG, and the Spousal Unit were first and hardest hit, but FB had a milder case that left him in bed all of Thursday and part of Christmas Eve, and PC had a middlin’ case that really only served to make her both more energetic than the rest of us combined and whiny. This, by the way, is not recommended – having the youngest member of the household feeling the best.
Now that I’m finally emerging from the haze, I’ve been working on finalizing my goals for 2011. I started working on them fairly early in the month of December, which has given me appropriate time to tweak and modify. In the end, I have goals in fifteen distinct categories. Granted, I break things down considerably, and others would likely group some of my categories into a single category, so it’s not quite as gruesome as it sounds. My categories, though, are the following: health; weight; exercise; running; knitting; food (as it relates to money); food (as it relates to nutrition); spending & budgeting; moving; homeschooling; parenting; birthdays; holidays; online life; and books. Some of the goals aren’t really the type that I would share online, but there are a few for which accountability is a positive thing, so I thought I’d share them here.
Running: My goal here is to complete twelve races (5K) in the year, for an average of one per month.
Knitting: My main goal is to finish at least two projects per month. I have a lot of subgoals, mostly related to specific projects. That may become a separate post.
Food (as it relates to nutrition): A late, dark horse entry made itself known for this category just over a week ago. I think we’re going to have to do a trial of gluten-free, at least for the girls. This is going to be a significant hardship, and one to which I am not looking forward.
Books: One of my main goals here is to read any unread books in the house, or to take them to the happy place in Chattanooga, McKay’s. Additionally, I want to maintain a backlog of no more than 4 unread books at a time. As it stands now, I have one book I’m reading, two books that are waiting, one book I’ve decided not to read (McKay’s for it), and a couple of books that I have borrowed. I’m feeling pretty good about this one.
I’m pleased with the way my goals look; I’ve been able to break a number of them down into easily measurable monthly and weekly goals. I’ve also convinced Spousal Unit to join me in working towards some of them. Now the new year just has to show up so I can get started. That, and I have to get rid of this cough that’s still lingering.
Now that I’m finally emerging from the haze, I’ve been working on finalizing my goals for 2011. I started working on them fairly early in the month of December, which has given me appropriate time to tweak and modify. In the end, I have goals in fifteen distinct categories. Granted, I break things down considerably, and others would likely group some of my categories into a single category, so it’s not quite as gruesome as it sounds. My categories, though, are the following: health; weight; exercise; running; knitting; food (as it relates to money); food (as it relates to nutrition); spending & budgeting; moving; homeschooling; parenting; birthdays; holidays; online life; and books. Some of the goals aren’t really the type that I would share online, but there are a few for which accountability is a positive thing, so I thought I’d share them here.
Running: My goal here is to complete twelve races (5K) in the year, for an average of one per month.
Knitting: My main goal is to finish at least two projects per month. I have a lot of subgoals, mostly related to specific projects. That may become a separate post.
Food (as it relates to nutrition): A late, dark horse entry made itself known for this category just over a week ago. I think we’re going to have to do a trial of gluten-free, at least for the girls. This is going to be a significant hardship, and one to which I am not looking forward.
Books: One of my main goals here is to read any unread books in the house, or to take them to the happy place in Chattanooga, McKay’s. Additionally, I want to maintain a backlog of no more than 4 unread books at a time. As it stands now, I have one book I’m reading, two books that are waiting, one book I’ve decided not to read (McKay’s for it), and a couple of books that I have borrowed. I’m feeling pretty good about this one.
I’m pleased with the way my goals look; I’ve been able to break a number of them down into easily measurable monthly and weekly goals. I’ve also convinced Spousal Unit to join me in working towards some of them. Now the new year just has to show up so I can get started. That, and I have to get rid of this cough that’s still lingering.
16.12.10
Secular Thursday: A Little Hard Work
I think too many homeschooling parents are afraid of hard work, with regards to what they require of their children. I see it in several areas. It seems at time like many are afraid of requiring "too much" work for a child. Others are afraid of being seen as "too rigid." Still others are afraid of accusations of being "elitist."
Let's address the question of being "elitist" first. I'll quote Aaron Sorkin's piece about if Obama met Bartlet: "And by the way, if you do nothing else, take that word back. Elite is a good word, it means well above average. I’d ask them what their problem is with excellence."
Who wants to argue with President Bartlet? I certainly don't. I'll accept him as the final word on being elite. Let's be well above average. Let's be excellent.
When it comes to "too much" work, the oft-cited schedules and guidelines in The Well-Trained Mind come under fire. For first grade, for example, daily work is suggested that should, according to the guidelines, take between one hour forty-five minutes and two hours thirty minutes. Additionally, thirty minutes should be spent on fun reading during another portion of the day. Non-daily subjects add up to 7 to 8 hours per week, or an additional 84 to 96 minutes per day. Please keep in mind that this non-daily work includes art projects, picture study, and an hour of listening to classical music. Not all work that we as adults categorize as school is considered onerous, work, or "school" by our children.
Still, then. Our minimum total for first grade work, as laid out in WTM, is three hours nine minutes, and the maximum total is four hours six minutes.
In practice, the suggested approach does not take, for many homeschoolers, as long as the guidelines say!
On average, children between the ages of five and twelve years are suggested to get ten to eleven hours of sleep. This leaves thirteen hours in a day. The suggested schoolwork, at maximum, would compromise 30% of a child's waking hours. This is hardly onerous. (By comparison, a child in my school district in first grade would be officially in school for six and a half hours per day, not including time spent there before the official start of day and time after dismissal, and travel time, which is 50% of a child's waking hours.)
For fifth grade, schoolwork does become an increasingly large portion of the child's day, taking (according to those pesky guidelines) between six hours and six hours forty minutes. Notice that this just now reaches that 50% mark that kids in elementary school have had since first grade!
In WTM: "It's still hard work. We don't deny it. We'll give you a clear view of the demands and requirements of this academic project. But a classical education is worth every drop of sweat – I can testify to that. I am constantly grateful to my mother for my education. It gave me an immeasurable head start, the independence to innovate and work on my own, confidence in my ability to compete in the job market, and the mental tools to build a satisfying career."
I think a large part of the objection to "too much work" has come from an interesting source. Millions, it seems, has been made in the last decade by writers and others decrying American children's overscheduled lives. Kids need time to play, to be outdoors, and time to simply be with themselves. I don't argue with that. I do argue with the idea that a preschooler with two or three outside the house activities is fundamentally the same as an eleven year old with two or three outside the house activities. In the rush not to overschedule children, anecdotes about four and six year olds that do four sports a year, that go from class to playdates to swim lessons to art – these stories are rampant.
I have a confession, here. According to the definition of overscheduling given in many resources, I was an overscheduled child. For example, when I was in third grade, I took piano lessons, I played softball, and I did ballet. I also participated in Girl Scouts. These are the activities that stand out from that year in retrospect; there may have been others. I don't remember feeling rushed or hurried. I had plenty of time to run around outside, to make up stories, to read for pleasure, and to spend time with my family. I even lived twenty-five minutes from my elementary school!
I think the overscheduling hype might just be exactly that – hype. I especially want to question its applicability to homeschooling families. I made a list of my daughter's obligations and what I would like for her to have time to do, including music practice, time with her siblings, time to read, and down time. I included a good amount of sleep, and an adequate amount of time for meals. In a twenty-four day, after all of those? There was a surplus of five hours. Granted, travel time to activities needs to be considered in that five hours, but travel time does not have to be wasted time. In the car, we do memory work, we listen to music for music appreciation, we sing, we talk, and, when the car sickness isn't too bad, reading takes place. It's not wasted time, and could be argued to substitute nicely for some of the other time involved.
Is it possible to do too much, or to overschedule, even as a homeschooler? Yes. Absolutely. What I am arguing, however, is that the saturation point is much higher than most assume it to be.
Finally, there’s the objection of being “too rigid.” I’m sure there are better defenses of rigidity, not to mention better refutations of the charge of being rigid. What comes to my mind, though, is a quote from Bones. The titular character is explaining why she likes free form jazz. “No, I love it. The artist has to live within a set tonal structure and trust his own instincts to find his way out of a infinite maze of musical possibilities, and the great ones do.” Sometimes, the rigidity of a system can set us free. By learning the basic facts and laws of math, a mathematician can create brilliant proofs; by learning grammar, the writer has a framework for creative output. This is true across disciplines.
Ultimately, the objections to hard work can be answered and shown not to be the problems they are thought to be. The perception remains with homeschooling, though, as it does in many institutional school settings, that learning should be fun. Edutainment, not education. Others mistake industry for work, and while appropriately shunning empty showings of industry, forget the value inherent in work. Whatever the reason, the homeschool community has begun to embrace the view that requiring hard academic work is not a positive thing – and I think it’s a foolishly negative turn of events.
Let's address the question of being "elitist" first. I'll quote Aaron Sorkin's piece about if Obama met Bartlet: "And by the way, if you do nothing else, take that word back. Elite is a good word, it means well above average. I’d ask them what their problem is with excellence."
Who wants to argue with President Bartlet? I certainly don't. I'll accept him as the final word on being elite. Let's be well above average. Let's be excellent.
When it comes to "too much" work, the oft-cited schedules and guidelines in The Well-Trained Mind come under fire. For first grade, for example, daily work is suggested that should, according to the guidelines, take between one hour forty-five minutes and two hours thirty minutes. Additionally, thirty minutes should be spent on fun reading during another portion of the day. Non-daily subjects add up to 7 to 8 hours per week, or an additional 84 to 96 minutes per day. Please keep in mind that this non-daily work includes art projects, picture study, and an hour of listening to classical music. Not all work that we as adults categorize as school is considered onerous, work, or "school" by our children.
Still, then. Our minimum total for first grade work, as laid out in WTM, is three hours nine minutes, and the maximum total is four hours six minutes.
In practice, the suggested approach does not take, for many homeschoolers, as long as the guidelines say!
On average, children between the ages of five and twelve years are suggested to get ten to eleven hours of sleep. This leaves thirteen hours in a day. The suggested schoolwork, at maximum, would compromise 30% of a child's waking hours. This is hardly onerous. (By comparison, a child in my school district in first grade would be officially in school for six and a half hours per day, not including time spent there before the official start of day and time after dismissal, and travel time, which is 50% of a child's waking hours.)
For fifth grade, schoolwork does become an increasingly large portion of the child's day, taking (according to those pesky guidelines) between six hours and six hours forty minutes. Notice that this just now reaches that 50% mark that kids in elementary school have had since first grade!
In WTM: "It's still hard work. We don't deny it. We'll give you a clear view of the demands and requirements of this academic project. But a classical education is worth every drop of sweat – I can testify to that. I am constantly grateful to my mother for my education. It gave me an immeasurable head start, the independence to innovate and work on my own, confidence in my ability to compete in the job market, and the mental tools to build a satisfying career."
I think a large part of the objection to "too much work" has come from an interesting source. Millions, it seems, has been made in the last decade by writers and others decrying American children's overscheduled lives. Kids need time to play, to be outdoors, and time to simply be with themselves. I don't argue with that. I do argue with the idea that a preschooler with two or three outside the house activities is fundamentally the same as an eleven year old with two or three outside the house activities. In the rush not to overschedule children, anecdotes about four and six year olds that do four sports a year, that go from class to playdates to swim lessons to art – these stories are rampant.
I have a confession, here. According to the definition of overscheduling given in many resources, I was an overscheduled child. For example, when I was in third grade, I took piano lessons, I played softball, and I did ballet. I also participated in Girl Scouts. These are the activities that stand out from that year in retrospect; there may have been others. I don't remember feeling rushed or hurried. I had plenty of time to run around outside, to make up stories, to read for pleasure, and to spend time with my family. I even lived twenty-five minutes from my elementary school!
I think the overscheduling hype might just be exactly that – hype. I especially want to question its applicability to homeschooling families. I made a list of my daughter's obligations and what I would like for her to have time to do, including music practice, time with her siblings, time to read, and down time. I included a good amount of sleep, and an adequate amount of time for meals. In a twenty-four day, after all of those? There was a surplus of five hours. Granted, travel time to activities needs to be considered in that five hours, but travel time does not have to be wasted time. In the car, we do memory work, we listen to music for music appreciation, we sing, we talk, and, when the car sickness isn't too bad, reading takes place. It's not wasted time, and could be argued to substitute nicely for some of the other time involved.
Is it possible to do too much, or to overschedule, even as a homeschooler? Yes. Absolutely. What I am arguing, however, is that the saturation point is much higher than most assume it to be.
Finally, there’s the objection of being “too rigid.” I’m sure there are better defenses of rigidity, not to mention better refutations of the charge of being rigid. What comes to my mind, though, is a quote from Bones. The titular character is explaining why she likes free form jazz. “No, I love it. The artist has to live within a set tonal structure and trust his own instincts to find his way out of a infinite maze of musical possibilities, and the great ones do.” Sometimes, the rigidity of a system can set us free. By learning the basic facts and laws of math, a mathematician can create brilliant proofs; by learning grammar, the writer has a framework for creative output. This is true across disciplines.
Ultimately, the objections to hard work can be answered and shown not to be the problems they are thought to be. The perception remains with homeschooling, though, as it does in many institutional school settings, that learning should be fun. Edutainment, not education. Others mistake industry for work, and while appropriately shunning empty showings of industry, forget the value inherent in work. Whatever the reason, the homeschool community has begun to embrace the view that requiring hard academic work is not a positive thing – and I think it’s a foolishly negative turn of events.
23.8.10
Goals for Writing
One of my goals for this year was to expand my general homeschooling goals into more specific goals in some areas. One of these areas was writing. Writing occupies a prime place in my overall goals, but I wanted to break it down further, into the "nitty-gritty." For example, one of the ones I have so far is "To be fully comfortable with the editing process, and use it well."
I have six specific goals so far, but I feel as if there is something missing. Naturally, then, I turn to the internet. Help me, internetz, you're my only hope! ;)
So - what are your specific goals with regards to writing?
I have six specific goals so far, but I feel as if there is something missing. Naturally, then, I turn to the internet. Help me, internetz, you're my only hope! ;)
So - what are your specific goals with regards to writing?
19.8.10
"A Host of Strange Skills"
My favorite portion of The Well-Trained Mind is this, from the Prologue:
I had a host of strange skills: I could diagram sentences; I could read Latin; I knew enough logic to tell whether an assertion was true or faulty.
A host of strange skills. I have always loved that phrasing. I do not know if it is an appropriate goal to have for one's offspring, but I admit: it is a goal I have for mine. I would love for each of them to say, "I have a host of strange skills, strange interests, and strange behaviors." By "strange," of course, I don't mean "undesirable," but rather "uncommon." Skills, interests, and behaviors that would be considered desirable, but not often found.
I actually think that perhaps I am doing well at meeting this goal. There have been several times lately that I see a glimpse of this.
For example, EG got some money for her birthday; $5 from my great-aunt on my father's side, and $10 from her maternal great-grandmother. The first thing she thought of when she got the $5 was taking her siblings to Bruster's for ice cream. So, on Saturday, that's what we did. Last night, she spent the remaining money on a toy for the new dog.
No, it's not horribly uncommon, but if I raise a child that thinks of others before herself, then I have succeeded where too many others have not, unfortunately.
Last week, a lovely eighteen year old of my acquaintance came by the house. While she was here, she was in EG's room. She saw a large book* sitting on EG's bedside table, and moved closer to discern the title. "Oh, poems," she said, "I wondered what kind of big book your mom was making you read."
"Oh, she's not making me read it," EG hastened to assure her. "It was a birthday present!" This was said without a hint of dismay or any suggestion that she was, in fact, forced to read it.
Said eighteen year old furrowed her brow, and made a comment about when parents give books as gifts, it's usually a hint. Her voice trailed off as she spoke, and one or another of us in the room changed the subject within a few seconds, natural in the course of conversation.
Clearly, this was not exactly "normal" behavior.
I know that we still have a long way to travel, and I of course have other goals, including those that are, shall we say, more quantifiable. Still, I hope I raise children with a veritable laundry list of strange skills, behaviors, and interests.
*The book in question is The Complete Poems of Christina Rossetti.
A host of strange skills. I have always loved that phrasing. I do not know if it is an appropriate goal to have for one's offspring, but I admit: it is a goal I have for mine. I would love for each of them to say, "I have a host of strange skills, strange interests, and strange behaviors." By "strange," of course, I don't mean "undesirable," but rather "uncommon." Skills, interests, and behaviors that would be considered desirable, but not often found.
I actually think that perhaps I am doing well at meeting this goal. There have been several times lately that I see a glimpse of this.
For example, EG got some money for her birthday; $5 from my great-aunt on my father's side, and $10 from her maternal great-grandmother. The first thing she thought of when she got the $5 was taking her siblings to Bruster's for ice cream. So, on Saturday, that's what we did. Last night, she spent the remaining money on a toy for the new dog.
No, it's not horribly uncommon, but if I raise a child that thinks of others before herself, then I have succeeded where too many others have not, unfortunately.
Last week, a lovely eighteen year old of my acquaintance came by the house. While she was here, she was in EG's room. She saw a large book* sitting on EG's bedside table, and moved closer to discern the title. "Oh, poems," she said, "I wondered what kind of big book your mom was making you read."
"Oh, she's not making me read it," EG hastened to assure her. "It was a birthday present!" This was said without a hint of dismay or any suggestion that she was, in fact, forced to read it.
Said eighteen year old furrowed her brow, and made a comment about when parents give books as gifts, it's usually a hint. Her voice trailed off as she spoke, and one or another of us in the room changed the subject within a few seconds, natural in the course of conversation.
Clearly, this was not exactly "normal" behavior.
I know that we still have a long way to travel, and I of course have other goals, including those that are, shall we say, more quantifiable. Still, I hope I raise children with a veritable laundry list of strange skills, behaviors, and interests.
*The book in question is The Complete Poems of Christina Rossetti.
