I've often lamented, to myself and others, that I just need to find "the answer." When I find that answer, I think, I'll be able to accomplish all that I want to accomplish. The fact that I don't currently merely shows a lack of willpower, initiative, creativity, or problem-solving ability. This, anyway, is the thesis from which I work.
What if my thesis isn't actually true?
I have a number of things that I want to do, and do well. Though you might not realize it upon walking into my house, I can be a perfectionist. If I can't do something perfectly, I'd rather just not do it at all, which actually does explain my house. I often let the perfect become the enemy of the good.
What if my expectations are simply too high? What if all the things I feel deserve 100% add up to more than 24 hours in a day? Maybe it's not that I need more problem-solving ability or willpower. Maybe it's simply that I've reached my limits, insofar as my life is currently configured.
My daily tasks & desires run more or less as follows:
- Schoolwork with EG, which includes checking her work, teaching her, and helping her stay on track with her work
- Schoolwork with FB, of which all but 10-15 minutes is direct instruction & sitting with him
- Parenting EG, FB, & PC
- any activities outside the house for EG or FB, which usually involve a period of “sit and wait” for me (I do try to utilize that time for reading or knitting when possible)
- knitting, 15 minutes average (in practice, I will knit a lot for several days, then none for several, and I often knit while watching television)
- reading, 30 minutes (a book I have not previously read)
- magazines, kindle books (I have a backlog), or re-reading, 15 minutes/1 chapter/1 magazine (whichever comes 'first')
- exercise of some type
- cooking or otherwise preparing three meals per day
- decluttering time, 15 minutes
- school prep, which generally takes between one and two hours weekly
- general housework, which may on a given day include vacuuming, laundry, cleaning bathrooms, or any one of a number of myriad tasks, not including the dinner dishes, the trash, or the litter box, ever, thankfully
Let's be honest. It's the world we live in, so I must also include...
- blogging
- email
- facebook and other social media
Then there's the current tasks of
- packing
- otherwise organizing to move
There are more sporadic tasks as well, like the duties I have for various community organizations, switching out clothes for a new season, choosing curriculum, and writing lesson plans.
Maybe, given the way our life is currently scheduled and otherwise designed, it's not all possible. No amount of waking early in the morning will give me the ability to drive to the Y, work out, and get back before dh has to go to work, not without my going to bed before the kids at night. I don't want to become a drudge; I do need leisure time. My ideal would be approximately one hour of television per weeknight, on average, as well as the above time for reading, knitting, and digital tasks.
I'm sure there are people that do everything I've listed on the list above, and then do even more. The question is not about theoretical possibility. The question is about whether I can do these things to my personal standards, and within the constraints of the schedule we have.
An example, then: I am unwilling to put the kids into the childcare at the Y, despite the fact that it is a "benefit" of membership. This is mostly because I had such negative experiences with it when FB was younger. However, the childcare at the Y is also closed for three hours each afternoon–the very same three hours which would be best for us! I'm not willing to yield on the time we devote to school in the mornings, nor am I willing to concede the children's afternoon activities or dinner as a family. The end result, then, is that it’s very difficult for me to utilize the Y. Now, of course, there are alternate exercising options, and the point is not to solicit comments and suggestions, because really, I can brainstorm. ;) In fact, the point is simple: as my life is currently structured, perhaps I truly can’t do everything I want to do. Perhaps I need to focus more on a few things at a time. These last two weeks have been a time for looking at curriculum and planning for the convention later this month; consequently, I’ve done less reading and knitting. Now that I feel I have a good handle on my plan, I can move back towards more reading and knitting. Perhaps this is how it needs to be; I simply don’t know.
Showing posts with label secular thursday. Show all posts
Showing posts with label secular thursday. Show all posts
24.2.11
The Beam In Your Eye, or Somewhere Along in the Bitterness
I’m not really sure if I should post this, to be honest. To some, it may be viewed as unnecessarily airing dirty laundry. Others may just decide I’m whinging, and they may be right, as well. Ultimately, though, I think that there are others like me, and so I’m writing about this–for them.
As I’ve stated before, I don’t think the homeschooling community and the rest of the world use the term “secular” to mean the same things. In the homeschooling community, it appears to be a definition where there is an absence. If one is not a certain type of conservative, creationist Christian, then one is defined as “secular.” In many ways, secular simply means evolutionary. In the rest of the world, a person identifying as secular is usually assumed to be agnostic or atheistic.
Needless to say, there are many religious people and people of faith who homeschool and are also evolutionary homeschoolers, or also liberal, politically, but in general, they are considered to be “secular homeschoolers.”
I find this sadly ironic. I read books by theologians and Biblical scholars. I read about evolution and God. I read different books than do these non-secular homeschoolers, but I am no less engaged, in my opinion, in my faith. I know what I believe. I have studied the Bible. I have read commentaries. I come from a long line of thoughtful people who have all identified themselves as Christian, and until I encountered the homeschooling community, I did as well.
Over the years, I’ve stopped identifying myself as explicitly Christian. It’s been made clear to me that I don’t believe “correctly” in order to have that label. I call myself Christopagan, or a liberal Christian, because I have to distinguish myself in some way from those that have excluded me. If Christian still means a follower of Christ, though, I’m entitled to wear that name.
I've often thought that homeschoolers of all different stripes can still learn much from each other. Some of my very favorite blogs to read are written by people who are, in fact, that specific type of conservative, creationist Christian. I don't feel that I have to agree with my friends on every issue. I recognize that there are places where two good people can come to two different conclusions, and both stances come from a place of conviction.
But something happened last month, though the details are not important, and I was left feeling as though I had been cast out, a beam in someone's eye. Or perhaps I was a misbegotten evangelism project, and it was realized I wasn't going to suddenly become a Calvinist. The details, really, are not important.
How I’ve felt in the weeks since?
Cautious.
I’ve hesitated to respond to blog posts and threads on message boards. I have wondered if my input is truly welcome at all. I’m not a Calvinist. I don’t attend a Reformed church. I don’t attend a church that talks about a moment of salvation. I’m on the road to becoming an Episcopalian. One of those people, who have gay bishops, and women deacons, rectors, and priests. Who reads Francis Collins. I just want you all to know, because I’m also someone who celebrates the old Celtic holidays. I respect and revere the earth, and have from my earliest Sunday School days. I teach my children evolution. My undergraduate major was biology, and I agree with the statement, “Nothing in biology makes sense except in the light of evolution.” These are my opinions, my faith, my beliefs, and who I am.
As I stated above, I eagerly read the blogs of people with whom I may disagree on some of the above points, or even all. I sometimes find I have more common ground, in terms of homeschooling,with the very conservative (religiously or politically) than I do my fellow liberals or “secular” homeschoolers. There are opinions I would and do cherish highly from those with whom I seem to “differ.” I thought, perhaps foolishly, that the same was true in reverse. That despite my “evolutionary worldview,” my opinions were still welcome on other subjects. I thought that friendships were possible even amongst those who disagree.
I’d be lying if I said this didn’t come from a place of hurt, and some anger which has developed in retrospect. I find myself wondering how much of things in the past were lies. I’ve let myself be burned again. Last time, my mother suggested it was because the people in question were atheistic apolitical assholes. That would be easier, maybe, but no. This time it was a highly religious libertarian who was cloaked (and remains cloaked, publicly) in an appearance of gentle, sweet concern for all. I find myself very bitter. I have friends that don’t treat me badly, so I must not be a completely awful person. I try very hard to be respectful of others’ beliefs. The fact remains that, once again, I don’t know what I did wrong. I existed.
I try to live my life in simple terms. “Love thy neighbor as thyself.” My cheeks keep getting slapped, though.
As I’ve stated before, I don’t think the homeschooling community and the rest of the world use the term “secular” to mean the same things. In the homeschooling community, it appears to be a definition where there is an absence. If one is not a certain type of conservative, creationist Christian, then one is defined as “secular.” In many ways, secular simply means evolutionary. In the rest of the world, a person identifying as secular is usually assumed to be agnostic or atheistic.
Needless to say, there are many religious people and people of faith who homeschool and are also evolutionary homeschoolers, or also liberal, politically, but in general, they are considered to be “secular homeschoolers.”
I find this sadly ironic. I read books by theologians and Biblical scholars. I read about evolution and God. I read different books than do these non-secular homeschoolers, but I am no less engaged, in my opinion, in my faith. I know what I believe. I have studied the Bible. I have read commentaries. I come from a long line of thoughtful people who have all identified themselves as Christian, and until I encountered the homeschooling community, I did as well.
Over the years, I’ve stopped identifying myself as explicitly Christian. It’s been made clear to me that I don’t believe “correctly” in order to have that label. I call myself Christopagan, or a liberal Christian, because I have to distinguish myself in some way from those that have excluded me. If Christian still means a follower of Christ, though, I’m entitled to wear that name.
I've often thought that homeschoolers of all different stripes can still learn much from each other. Some of my very favorite blogs to read are written by people who are, in fact, that specific type of conservative, creationist Christian. I don't feel that I have to agree with my friends on every issue. I recognize that there are places where two good people can come to two different conclusions, and both stances come from a place of conviction.
But something happened last month, though the details are not important, and I was left feeling as though I had been cast out, a beam in someone's eye. Or perhaps I was a misbegotten evangelism project, and it was realized I wasn't going to suddenly become a Calvinist. The details, really, are not important.
How I’ve felt in the weeks since?
Cautious.
I’ve hesitated to respond to blog posts and threads on message boards. I have wondered if my input is truly welcome at all. I’m not a Calvinist. I don’t attend a Reformed church. I don’t attend a church that talks about a moment of salvation. I’m on the road to becoming an Episcopalian. One of those people, who have gay bishops, and women deacons, rectors, and priests. Who reads Francis Collins. I just want you all to know, because I’m also someone who celebrates the old Celtic holidays. I respect and revere the earth, and have from my earliest Sunday School days. I teach my children evolution. My undergraduate major was biology, and I agree with the statement, “Nothing in biology makes sense except in the light of evolution.” These are my opinions, my faith, my beliefs, and who I am.
As I stated above, I eagerly read the blogs of people with whom I may disagree on some of the above points, or even all. I sometimes find I have more common ground, in terms of homeschooling,with the very conservative (religiously or politically) than I do my fellow liberals or “secular” homeschoolers. There are opinions I would and do cherish highly from those with whom I seem to “differ.” I thought, perhaps foolishly, that the same was true in reverse. That despite my “evolutionary worldview,” my opinions were still welcome on other subjects. I thought that friendships were possible even amongst those who disagree.
I’d be lying if I said this didn’t come from a place of hurt, and some anger which has developed in retrospect. I find myself wondering how much of things in the past were lies. I’ve let myself be burned again. Last time, my mother suggested it was because the people in question were atheistic apolitical assholes. That would be easier, maybe, but no. This time it was a highly religious libertarian who was cloaked (and remains cloaked, publicly) in an appearance of gentle, sweet concern for all. I find myself very bitter. I have friends that don’t treat me badly, so I must not be a completely awful person. I try very hard to be respectful of others’ beliefs. The fact remains that, once again, I don’t know what I did wrong. I existed.
I try to live my life in simple terms. “Love thy neighbor as thyself.” My cheeks keep getting slapped, though.
20.1.11
Throwing the Baby Out With the Bathwater
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.
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.
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.
26.8.10
Challenging the Gifted Learner
One of the common criticisms leveled at gifted programs administered through public schools is that, rather than challenging gifted students, they merely give them more work to do. The "smart kids" have finished their grammar worksheet? Never fear, here's another one! While homeschool parents usually manage to avoid the most egregious examples of this, in practice it can be difficult to challenge a gifted child without accidentally slipping into merely requiring more work.
Smrt Mama and I discussed this recently. While some skills do need practice and repetition (even for gifted students), it can be all too easy to throw content, content, and more content at a child. Despite my love for most of The Well-Trained Mind, at times I think SWB's recommendations with regard to history and literature can fall into that trap. And, of course, there is more knowledge in this world than any one person can master, so there is going to always be an idea for another subject or another area of study that could be added, in yet another attempt to challenge a student.
Ultimately, though, more work does not challenge a student intellectually; it merely challenges a student's time management skills. Challenging a student while maintaining an appropriate workload may require more work on the part of the parent-teacher. A gifted reader doesn't need to be required to read two, three, or four books in a short amount of time; a gifted reader needs a book with vocabulary, sentence structure, and content that will stretch him or her, without being developmentally inappropriate. A gifted writer does not need to write more essays, stories, or poems, but he or she does need to be challenged to improve the organization, clarity, and depth of the essays, to tighten the narrative of the stories, and to enhance the imagery and language used in the poetry. A gifted mathematician does not need to do sixty-four similar math problems instead of just sixteen or thirty-two, but he or she does need to see multiple ways of approaching the problem and thinking about math.
The challenge, as it ever is, is finding the appropriate resources and curricula to accomplish these goals. It is harder for the parent-teacher to go deeper and wider. Compression and additional work are far easier responses. While compression may at time be appropriate (one common example of this is First Language Lessons; many have shared their experience in covering the first two levels in just one school year, for instance), additional assignments rarely are. Additional work may approach the material from a different angle, require a slightly different set of skills, or increase understanding in some way; in these particulars, additional work may in fact be appropriate. In many cases, however, these benefits could possibly be acquired through a different approach, rather than merely through further assignments.
Some of the resources I have discovered and have either used or planned to use:
Michael Clay Thompson's language arts curriculum If you watch a video of this man speak, you can see that he really gets it. These materials are exceptional! I also cannot wait to see him speak in person next March – I'm planning to drive to Greenville for the chance to see him & Susan Wise Bauer in person.
Art of Problem Solving mathematics resources. AoPS publishes mathematics resources for approximately sixth grade and up, as well as providing online classes to correspond to the textbooks as well as classes to prepare for prestigious math contests. Also available from AoPS are a few resources for elementary-age students. We have two of their books so far (Introduction to Number Theory and Introduction to Counting & Probability), and plan to have EG participate in some of their online courses in the future.
TIP (Duke's Talent Search) store I am most familiar with TIP because we are in their geographical region; I'm sure other regional talent searches have similar resources. There is an in-depth study of Greek mythology available, as well as one for the Arthurian legends. Actually, I think all of it looks excellent; those are just two I plan to purchase for use later this school year.
What are your best resources for challenging students?
Smrt Mama and I discussed this recently. While some skills do need practice and repetition (even for gifted students), it can be all too easy to throw content, content, and more content at a child. Despite my love for most of The Well-Trained Mind, at times I think SWB's recommendations with regard to history and literature can fall into that trap. And, of course, there is more knowledge in this world than any one person can master, so there is going to always be an idea for another subject or another area of study that could be added, in yet another attempt to challenge a student.
Ultimately, though, more work does not challenge a student intellectually; it merely challenges a student's time management skills. Challenging a student while maintaining an appropriate workload may require more work on the part of the parent-teacher. A gifted reader doesn't need to be required to read two, three, or four books in a short amount of time; a gifted reader needs a book with vocabulary, sentence structure, and content that will stretch him or her, without being developmentally inappropriate. A gifted writer does not need to write more essays, stories, or poems, but he or she does need to be challenged to improve the organization, clarity, and depth of the essays, to tighten the narrative of the stories, and to enhance the imagery and language used in the poetry. A gifted mathematician does not need to do sixty-four similar math problems instead of just sixteen or thirty-two, but he or she does need to see multiple ways of approaching the problem and thinking about math.
The challenge, as it ever is, is finding the appropriate resources and curricula to accomplish these goals. It is harder for the parent-teacher to go deeper and wider. Compression and additional work are far easier responses. While compression may at time be appropriate (one common example of this is First Language Lessons; many have shared their experience in covering the first two levels in just one school year, for instance), additional assignments rarely are. Additional work may approach the material from a different angle, require a slightly different set of skills, or increase understanding in some way; in these particulars, additional work may in fact be appropriate. In many cases, however, these benefits could possibly be acquired through a different approach, rather than merely through further assignments.
Some of the resources I have discovered and have either used or planned to use:
Michael Clay Thompson's language arts curriculum If you watch a video of this man speak, you can see that he really gets it. These materials are exceptional! I also cannot wait to see him speak in person next March – I'm planning to drive to Greenville for the chance to see him & Susan Wise Bauer in person.
Art of Problem Solving mathematics resources. AoPS publishes mathematics resources for approximately sixth grade and up, as well as providing online classes to correspond to the textbooks as well as classes to prepare for prestigious math contests. Also available from AoPS are a few resources for elementary-age students. We have two of their books so far (Introduction to Number Theory and Introduction to Counting & Probability), and plan to have EG participate in some of their online courses in the future.
TIP (Duke's Talent Search) store I am most familiar with TIP because we are in their geographical region; I'm sure other regional talent searches have similar resources. There is an in-depth study of Greek mythology available, as well as one for the Arthurian legends. Actually, I think all of it looks excellent; those are just two I plan to purchase for use later this school year.
What are your best resources for challenging students?
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.
29.4.10
I Don't Need A Support System...
Liz Phair may not, but most homeschoolers do.
Whatever your personal beliefs, if they don't fall into the category of conservative Christian, you are likely to find yourself on the fringes in the homeschooling community. I've talked about that many times and pointed out many examples. Others in other areas like to point to the existence of their particular inclusive or non-sectarian local support group as if their mere existence meant it was not a problem for anyone! Other times, other resources will be suggested. Sadly, while I appreciate much of the content of magazines like Secular Homeschooling, I felt it had a strong agnostic and atheist bent. Just because I'm not a conservative Christian doesn't mean I fit in with the Skeptic movement, or whatever the term was.
That, then, is the problem. Or, shall I say, part of the problem. Another portion of the problem is living with the frustration and the disappointment. Whenever a new resource is discovered, it seems like almost inevitably religion is interjected at some point. And, along with that interjection, there is a letdown.
How do you cope with that frustration and disappointment? Not having expectations that are too high is one common response. After all, if I were to approach the new homeschooling books, sites, curriculums, or other resources with the default assumption that they are written from a creationist and conservative Christian viewpoint, I wouldn't be disappointed when that was confirmed. I'd instead be pleasantly surprised if that turned out to not be true!
It's a guarded, cautious way to approach the world, though, and I have a feeling that if I turned in that direction completely, I'd eventually miss some good resource or curriculum in my attempt to avoid disappointment and frustration. This isn't exactly the outcome I'd want, either.
Another approach is to talk about each instance. Whether in person or online, giving vent to the frustration allows some to process it and then more or less put it away. I wouldn't know anything about that approach. Using a blog to vent one's frustration? Pfft. Y'all know I must be talking about someone else.
Many times, we're told to create our own. "There's a niche!" I don't want to create a website or magazine or curriculum. I wouldn't mind helping coordinate informal gatherings to discuss curricula, and that's something Smrt Mama and I are working on, as it happens. But non-conservative Christian homeschoolers shouldn't have to create all their own support systems. Ultimately, that's what gets to me, time after time - the support system is already there for them. Just not for me.
Whatever your personal beliefs, if they don't fall into the category of conservative Christian, you are likely to find yourself on the fringes in the homeschooling community. I've talked about that many times and pointed out many examples. Others in other areas like to point to the existence of their particular inclusive or non-sectarian local support group as if their mere existence meant it was not a problem for anyone! Other times, other resources will be suggested. Sadly, while I appreciate much of the content of magazines like Secular Homeschooling, I felt it had a strong agnostic and atheist bent. Just because I'm not a conservative Christian doesn't mean I fit in with the Skeptic movement, or whatever the term was.
That, then, is the problem. Or, shall I say, part of the problem. Another portion of the problem is living with the frustration and the disappointment. Whenever a new resource is discovered, it seems like almost inevitably religion is interjected at some point. And, along with that interjection, there is a letdown.
How do you cope with that frustration and disappointment? Not having expectations that are too high is one common response. After all, if I were to approach the new homeschooling books, sites, curriculums, or other resources with the default assumption that they are written from a creationist and conservative Christian viewpoint, I wouldn't be disappointed when that was confirmed. I'd instead be pleasantly surprised if that turned out to not be true!
It's a guarded, cautious way to approach the world, though, and I have a feeling that if I turned in that direction completely, I'd eventually miss some good resource or curriculum in my attempt to avoid disappointment and frustration. This isn't exactly the outcome I'd want, either.
Another approach is to talk about each instance. Whether in person or online, giving vent to the frustration allows some to process it and then more or less put it away. I wouldn't know anything about that approach. Using a blog to vent one's frustration? Pfft. Y'all know I must be talking about someone else.
Many times, we're told to create our own. "There's a niche!" I don't want to create a website or magazine or curriculum. I wouldn't mind helping coordinate informal gatherings to discuss curricula, and that's something Smrt Mama and I are working on, as it happens. But non-conservative Christian homeschoolers shouldn't have to create all their own support systems. Ultimately, that's what gets to me, time after time - the support system is already there for them. Just not for me.
22.4.10
I Did That!
Every homeschooling parent needs a hobby.
Oh, everyone can enjoy hobbies, but it's my firm belief that homeschooling parents, especially, need a hobby that produces something tangible.
We work hard daily, and there are intermediate steps along the way - a child completing a math book, lesson plans organized for a new unit, another year finished. The end result, though, is years away, and in some ways, there is no true end. Any stay-at-home parent may bemoan how everything they do is undone within days or even hours, a feeling aptly described in the old saying, "A man may work from sun to sun, but woman's work is never done."
I think the human mind needs to see evidence of accomplishment. There's an impulse to point and say "Look! I did that!" Homeschooling will afford us that opportunity... by the time we hit age 50 or 60.
So, then, a hobby. For me personally, I've finally come back to knitting. If I knew someone who did a lot of woodworking, I might've gone that direction, but both knitting and woodworking were things I enjoyed even as a child. Knitting won in the end because of portability issues and also the fact I found someone who knew enough about knitting that if I got into a tough spot, I wouldn't have to frog the whole thing. I could get help!
Knowing that you have a source of help available empowers you to take chances that you might otherwise take, too. I've attempted to pick up knitting as an adult previously, but reached a point where I was stymied and afraid of putting in the effort only to run into roadblocks. For me personally, knowing Smrt Mama could help me pick up a dropped stitch made me confident enough to try new things.
I've had a small, relatively steady trickle of items off my needles in the last six to twelve months. A hat for each kid, thumbless mittens for PC, thumbed mittens for FB (this was significant!), a hippie head-kerchief for EG, a scarf for FB, and I've just cast on for (gulp!) a sweater for PC. It's calming when I sit and knit in the mornings, keeps my hands busy when I watch TV, and helps me feel like waiting in the car at Master's Academy or vision therapy or piano lessons or band isn't quite such a waste of time.
It doesn't have to be knitting, of course; anything that produces a tangible product will suffice. Because some days, it's good to look at something finished and complete and go, "Hey! I made that!"
Oh, everyone can enjoy hobbies, but it's my firm belief that homeschooling parents, especially, need a hobby that produces something tangible.
We work hard daily, and there are intermediate steps along the way - a child completing a math book, lesson plans organized for a new unit, another year finished. The end result, though, is years away, and in some ways, there is no true end. Any stay-at-home parent may bemoan how everything they do is undone within days or even hours, a feeling aptly described in the old saying, "A man may work from sun to sun, but woman's work is never done."
I think the human mind needs to see evidence of accomplishment. There's an impulse to point and say "Look! I did that!" Homeschooling will afford us that opportunity... by the time we hit age 50 or 60.
So, then, a hobby. For me personally, I've finally come back to knitting. If I knew someone who did a lot of woodworking, I might've gone that direction, but both knitting and woodworking were things I enjoyed even as a child. Knitting won in the end because of portability issues and also the fact I found someone who knew enough about knitting that if I got into a tough spot, I wouldn't have to frog the whole thing. I could get help!
Knowing that you have a source of help available empowers you to take chances that you might otherwise take, too. I've attempted to pick up knitting as an adult previously, but reached a point where I was stymied and afraid of putting in the effort only to run into roadblocks. For me personally, knowing Smrt Mama could help me pick up a dropped stitch made me confident enough to try new things.
I've had a small, relatively steady trickle of items off my needles in the last six to twelve months. A hat for each kid, thumbless mittens for PC, thumbed mittens for FB (this was significant!), a hippie head-kerchief for EG, a scarf for FB, and I've just cast on for (gulp!) a sweater for PC. It's calming when I sit and knit in the mornings, keeps my hands busy when I watch TV, and helps me feel like waiting in the car at Master's Academy or vision therapy or piano lessons or band isn't quite such a waste of time.
It doesn't have to be knitting, of course; anything that produces a tangible product will suffice. Because some days, it's good to look at something finished and complete and go, "Hey! I made that!"
15.4.10
No Common Ground To Start From, And We're Falling Apart
Can common ground truly be found between those who homeschool for religious reasons and those who homeschool for other reasons, such as academics? What about between those who use a curriculum-based approach, and those who are devotees of the unschooling lifestyle?
I've noticed a tendency in myself lately when I read the WTM boards. Unless it's a poster I can remember seeing previously, and I can recall some nugget of information, I find myself hesitant to post. My suggestions are always going to be secular in nature, and that's not always welcome. Further, I find when I read posts where they invite comments on what they have planned, I don't feel comfortable making suggestions depending on the obvious slant of what is already selected. Yes, there are some exceptions to this rule, but overall, I feel as if I don't have anything to contribute. Our worldviews seem too different, separated by a huge gulf.
It's funny, really - I don't remember ever seeing or hearing the term "worldview" until 2005, at the earliest. It seems like the last few years have seen a real explosion in its use. At first, I didn't understand the utility of the word. Eventually, I realized that I could, indeed, see my (theistic, for the record) evolutionary worldview influencing how I viewed things. I've been enamored by the elegant simplicity of evolution and genetics since I first understood what they were; it's little wonder I "see" evolution in nooks and crannies and little strange spaces.
And so, to be intellectually honest, to be true to my own moral perceptions, I cannot, in good conscience, tell someone that their use of Apologia is rigorous. I cannot tell them that it "looks good." I don't expect someone with a young earth creationist viewpoint is being really honest when they tell me my plans - complete with a focus on evolution! - look good!
Let's go with other secular homeschoolers.
Let me interject here. "Secular" homeschooler generally means "any homeschooler who is not a very conservative, creationist Christian." If you're a liberal, evolutionary Christian - you're secular. If you're an Orthodox Jew, guess where you will be lumped (unless you have a large community of other Orthodox Jews homeschooling near you) - yep, secular homeschooler! Pagan? Secular! Actual atheist? Secular! So "secular" may or may not mean anything in terms of a similarity of worldview, after all.
Still, then, you encounter the "unschooler." I don't know that I like the term any more than some unschoolers do, but I do have a picture in my mind. The mom who, at park day, disparages people who "use curriculum." The one who says to a friend that she doesn't understand how people who use curriculum can "get it all done" and still let their children have any time to play. The ones who look at me askance, as if I'm abusing my child by making her do, horror of horrors, math drills. Yes, these are all things I have observed in real life.
These are the homeschooling parents that appear to be the most similar to me! We may share similar approaches to parenting and life in general, but when school enters the picture, it all deviates sharply. Again, they don't really think my plans look good - they're actually horrified! It's not an unequal situation, though, because of course, I'm horrified, afraid their children will be like the twelve year old I met who was sadly resigned that she might not be able to catch up on math in time to apply to college to study engineering. An impasse.
Do I think it's really all so bleak? No. I think that many times, the divisions between groups of homeschoolers are artificial and imposed. Despite a few protestations to the contrary, math, for instance, is math. It should be possible to have a group form whose sole purpose is to prepare for and compete in math contests without religion or homeschooling style entering the discussion. There are an enormous number of clubs, events, and activities that should fall under this same rubric. EG attends a homeschool band group that is overtly conservative and quite Christian. Just ask the bumper stickers. (Don't ask me about the pink "Palin! 2012" stickers, because it takes me the full week between Fridays to recover from them.) But a trumpet is a trumpet, and band music is, well, band music. There's no statement of faith. Dd does know not to start discussing how much she loves Darwin and Obama while she's there, but that's okay. :) I see no reason why the vast majority of homeschool programs and groups could not be this way - organized by whomever, utilized by whomever.
Despite my thoughts, there are going to be gaps, and gulfs. When it comes to the aforementioned Darwin, homeschoolers will be sharply divided. It'd be hard to teach most science classes without choosing evolution or creation. And, in the end, I think that's okay, too. Homeschoolers do not compromise one big happy family, or even one cohesive movement. Calls from any corner to, essentially, play nice and sing Kumbaya are doomed to failure, in my opinion. And perhaps that's as it should be. Homeschooling, after all, is the very picture of individualistic expression.
I've noticed a tendency in myself lately when I read the WTM boards. Unless it's a poster I can remember seeing previously, and I can recall some nugget of information, I find myself hesitant to post. My suggestions are always going to be secular in nature, and that's not always welcome. Further, I find when I read posts where they invite comments on what they have planned, I don't feel comfortable making suggestions depending on the obvious slant of what is already selected. Yes, there are some exceptions to this rule, but overall, I feel as if I don't have anything to contribute. Our worldviews seem too different, separated by a huge gulf.
It's funny, really - I don't remember ever seeing or hearing the term "worldview" until 2005, at the earliest. It seems like the last few years have seen a real explosion in its use. At first, I didn't understand the utility of the word. Eventually, I realized that I could, indeed, see my (theistic, for the record) evolutionary worldview influencing how I viewed things. I've been enamored by the elegant simplicity of evolution and genetics since I first understood what they were; it's little wonder I "see" evolution in nooks and crannies and little strange spaces.
And so, to be intellectually honest, to be true to my own moral perceptions, I cannot, in good conscience, tell someone that their use of Apologia is rigorous. I cannot tell them that it "looks good." I don't expect someone with a young earth creationist viewpoint is being really honest when they tell me my plans - complete with a focus on evolution! - look good!
Let's go with other secular homeschoolers.
Let me interject here. "Secular" homeschooler generally means "any homeschooler who is not a very conservative, creationist Christian." If you're a liberal, evolutionary Christian - you're secular. If you're an Orthodox Jew, guess where you will be lumped (unless you have a large community of other Orthodox Jews homeschooling near you) - yep, secular homeschooler! Pagan? Secular! Actual atheist? Secular! So "secular" may or may not mean anything in terms of a similarity of worldview, after all.
Still, then, you encounter the "unschooler." I don't know that I like the term any more than some unschoolers do, but I do have a picture in my mind. The mom who, at park day, disparages people who "use curriculum." The one who says to a friend that she doesn't understand how people who use curriculum can "get it all done" and still let their children have any time to play. The ones who look at me askance, as if I'm abusing my child by making her do, horror of horrors, math drills. Yes, these are all things I have observed in real life.
These are the homeschooling parents that appear to be the most similar to me! We may share similar approaches to parenting and life in general, but when school enters the picture, it all deviates sharply. Again, they don't really think my plans look good - they're actually horrified! It's not an unequal situation, though, because of course, I'm horrified, afraid their children will be like the twelve year old I met who was sadly resigned that she might not be able to catch up on math in time to apply to college to study engineering. An impasse.
Do I think it's really all so bleak? No. I think that many times, the divisions between groups of homeschoolers are artificial and imposed. Despite a few protestations to the contrary, math, for instance, is math. It should be possible to have a group form whose sole purpose is to prepare for and compete in math contests without religion or homeschooling style entering the discussion. There are an enormous number of clubs, events, and activities that should fall under this same rubric. EG attends a homeschool band group that is overtly conservative and quite Christian. Just ask the bumper stickers. (Don't ask me about the pink "Palin! 2012" stickers, because it takes me the full week between Fridays to recover from them.) But a trumpet is a trumpet, and band music is, well, band music. There's no statement of faith. Dd does know not to start discussing how much she loves Darwin and Obama while she's there, but that's okay. :) I see no reason why the vast majority of homeschool programs and groups could not be this way - organized by whomever, utilized by whomever.
Despite my thoughts, there are going to be gaps, and gulfs. When it comes to the aforementioned Darwin, homeschoolers will be sharply divided. It'd be hard to teach most science classes without choosing evolution or creation. And, in the end, I think that's okay, too. Homeschoolers do not compromise one big happy family, or even one cohesive movement. Calls from any corner to, essentially, play nice and sing Kumbaya are doomed to failure, in my opinion. And perhaps that's as it should be. Homeschooling, after all, is the very picture of individualistic expression.
1.4.10
Secular Thursday in Snippets
• Yesterday was kindergarten registration for my county. If the kids went to public school, it would have been the day to register FB. It's weird to think about things in those terms, sometimes, but I do have a game I play in my head from time to time. What I think would have happened with each of the children if they had gone to public school.
EG's path would have gone one of two ways. It's possible she would have learned to sit still, to be quiet, and to please the teacher. She wouldn't cause a fuss, and would blend into the background. Alternatively, her difficulties with spelling and her inability to sit down for more than 5.2 seconds would have had her labeled special education within six months. Not sure which road she would have been on, to be honest.
FB could go two ways as well. He's the kind of kid that a teacher will either love or hate. If he managed to get teachers that loved him, he could in theory have done well at a public school. If he got even one that didn't, though, I suspect he'd be one of those boys that they'd want to diagnose with ADHD. The amusing thing, of course, is that if either of the older two could be considered ADHD, it would be EG. Not FB.
• I ordered the book A World of Faith, sight unseen, as a basic primer on various religions. I was a little nervous, wondering if it would be what I was looking for. I haven't had a chance to read it, but when it came yesterday, the review-blurb on the back? I noticed it was a quote of Jimmy Carter, and I breathed a sigh of relief. If Jimmy says it's all right, I'll probably think it is, too.
• I had the brilliant idea to do a unit on prehistoric life with the kids, focusing specifically on dinosaurs. Because the unit will involve reading and watching DVDs only, I knew it would be something we could do on the weekends and over the summer, very casually. What I didn't anticipate was how hard it would be to find appropriate books for EG to read! I had a ready-made spine for FB (DK's First Dinosaur Encyclopedia), plus ready-made supplemental books (Magic School Bus, Let's Read and Find Out books). I had a good overview book for EG (Dinosaurs), but I wanted a few other things to flesh it out. I finally found a few likely-looking titles on amazon but I don't know, in practice, how they'll go over. I'll post our prehistoric life lesson plans AFTER we've executed them. :)
• Prehistoric life naturally segues into evolution, which is one of the things I hope to have EG cover in some detail next year. Finding books for that is sort of interesting, too. I don't want to overload her with adult-level books, but many of the "middle school level" books don't really go into enough detail. Decisions, decisions.
• I don't really enjoy April Fools' Day. It seems less like a day about having fun and more of a day about making fun of other people, too often. So I'm blogging today, and otherwise will probably go media-silent until we're on the other side of it. I just don't need it.
EG's path would have gone one of two ways. It's possible she would have learned to sit still, to be quiet, and to please the teacher. She wouldn't cause a fuss, and would blend into the background. Alternatively, her difficulties with spelling and her inability to sit down for more than 5.2 seconds would have had her labeled special education within six months. Not sure which road she would have been on, to be honest.
FB could go two ways as well. He's the kind of kid that a teacher will either love or hate. If he managed to get teachers that loved him, he could in theory have done well at a public school. If he got even one that didn't, though, I suspect he'd be one of those boys that they'd want to diagnose with ADHD. The amusing thing, of course, is that if either of the older two could be considered ADHD, it would be EG. Not FB.
• I ordered the book A World of Faith, sight unseen, as a basic primer on various religions. I was a little nervous, wondering if it would be what I was looking for. I haven't had a chance to read it, but when it came yesterday, the review-blurb on the back? I noticed it was a quote of Jimmy Carter, and I breathed a sigh of relief. If Jimmy says it's all right, I'll probably think it is, too.
• I had the brilliant idea to do a unit on prehistoric life with the kids, focusing specifically on dinosaurs. Because the unit will involve reading and watching DVDs only, I knew it would be something we could do on the weekends and over the summer, very casually. What I didn't anticipate was how hard it would be to find appropriate books for EG to read! I had a ready-made spine for FB (DK's First Dinosaur Encyclopedia), plus ready-made supplemental books (Magic School Bus, Let's Read and Find Out books). I had a good overview book for EG (Dinosaurs), but I wanted a few other things to flesh it out. I finally found a few likely-looking titles on amazon but I don't know, in practice, how they'll go over. I'll post our prehistoric life lesson plans AFTER we've executed them. :)
• Prehistoric life naturally segues into evolution, which is one of the things I hope to have EG cover in some detail next year. Finding books for that is sort of interesting, too. I don't want to overload her with adult-level books, but many of the "middle school level" books don't really go into enough detail. Decisions, decisions.
• I don't really enjoy April Fools' Day. It seems less like a day about having fun and more of a day about making fun of other people, too often. So I'm blogging today, and otherwise will probably go media-silent until we're on the other side of it. I just don't need it.
25.3.10
"Secular" Thursday: Patriotism & Taxes
We're going to rename Secular Thursday for today, to Patriotic Thursday. Okay, I am renaming it, anyway. I wrote this as a refutation of the idea that the only patriots are conservative or libertarian. I wrote this as a refutation of the idea that only certain types of people read and love the Constitution, or love this country. I've always been a big old bleeding heart liberal, but I've also always been a flag-waving, country-loving patriot. They aren't mutually exclusive.
This is also based on emotion, not debating specific facts. This is my perspective, MY gut reaction, just as your gut reaction may be against taxes, or against new legislation. I'm not out to say that you are wrong and I am right, and I'm not particularly interested in a debate. Just putting that out there - if you leave a contentious comment, I likely will not respond.
I'm a strange soul.
I get a patriotic thrill when I pay my taxes.
My life is full of points where a stranger took a chance on me. At five years old, at eleven, at nineteen - my story could be so different than what it is today. I can't be that stranger for every five, eleven, nineteen, or twenty-nine year old, but I can pay my taxes.
I can make sure that I pay for the roads on which I drive, and a million other services of which I and my family partake without even noticing. Yes, I happily pay for public education, too. It is of no benefit to my family for public education to decline. I don't believe that public education is a bad thing. Do I think that in many areas it is badly broken? Yes. Do I think it has no value? No.
I can make sure that I pay a equitable tax on my vehicles, my property, my income. Notice I didn't say on the things I buy; I'm one of those strange individuals who opposes most sales taxes out of principle. Our state has eliminated sales tax on groceries, and I think this is an excellent thing.
"Give me your tired, your poor,
your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore."
We'll give them (and, yes, I'd definitely prefer legal immigration!) a chance, an education, health care. We'll do what was done for our ancestors, and then make it bigger and better. That's what this country has long been about. To paraphrase Queen, bad mistakes? We've made a few - but we've come through.
We're meant to be a city on a hill, some say. An example to the world. For too long of late, we've not been the best example that we might otherwise be. We took another step towards bigger and better. This week, I paid my income taxes, and yes, I did it with a light heart. I want to keep America's lamp burning bright.
"Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me,
I lift my lamp beside the golden door."
This is also based on emotion, not debating specific facts. This is my perspective, MY gut reaction, just as your gut reaction may be against taxes, or against new legislation. I'm not out to say that you are wrong and I am right, and I'm not particularly interested in a debate. Just putting that out there - if you leave a contentious comment, I likely will not respond.
I'm a strange soul.
I get a patriotic thrill when I pay my taxes.
My life is full of points where a stranger took a chance on me. At five years old, at eleven, at nineteen - my story could be so different than what it is today. I can't be that stranger for every five, eleven, nineteen, or twenty-nine year old, but I can pay my taxes.
I can make sure that I pay for the roads on which I drive, and a million other services of which I and my family partake without even noticing. Yes, I happily pay for public education, too. It is of no benefit to my family for public education to decline. I don't believe that public education is a bad thing. Do I think that in many areas it is badly broken? Yes. Do I think it has no value? No.
I can make sure that I pay a equitable tax on my vehicles, my property, my income. Notice I didn't say on the things I buy; I'm one of those strange individuals who opposes most sales taxes out of principle. Our state has eliminated sales tax on groceries, and I think this is an excellent thing.
"Give me your tired, your poor,
your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore."
We'll give them (and, yes, I'd definitely prefer legal immigration!) a chance, an education, health care. We'll do what was done for our ancestors, and then make it bigger and better. That's what this country has long been about. To paraphrase Queen, bad mistakes? We've made a few - but we've come through.
We're meant to be a city on a hill, some say. An example to the world. For too long of late, we've not been the best example that we might otherwise be. We took another step towards bigger and better. This week, I paid my income taxes, and yes, I did it with a light heart. I want to keep America's lamp burning bright.
"Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me,
I lift my lamp beside the golden door."
4.3.10
Secular Thursday: Planning and Pre-Planned
I've spent the last three or four days immersed in lists, planning for next year. I have our actual curriculum determined, and will be placing the last necessary orders tomorrow. What I didn't have determined was all of the real books that we use. We use real books for literature, somewhat obviously, and history, too, but also science, art, and music, depending on the topic at hand.
My first item of business was to finalize what books to use for history for both EG and FB. There are a few that will overlap - thank you, David Macaulay! - but overall, EG is ahead of the curve enough that resources that are appropriate for her are just too much for a kindergartener, even a bright and inquisitive one. Which, of course, meant two lists.
As I approached the third or fourth hour of looking up books and eliminating those that were out of print, I reflected upon the fact that while it seemed somewhat like drudgery, I did enjoy it, for the most part. We very briefly tried a pre-planned curriculum when EG preschool-age, and I tweaked it mercilessly. Pre-planned just doesn't work for us.
However, it's a good thing that I enjoy planning, because if I wanted a pre-planned package, I would have considerable difficulty finding one to suit our needs.
If you are more conservative Christian, there are a number of pre-planned package programs using a variety of styles. There's Sonlight, of course, and Winter Promise, My Father's World, and Heart of Dakota. While not quite as packaged, there's also Tapestry of Grace.
If you want something a little more nonsectarian, you have approximately one choice, in terms of pre-scheduled guides: History Odyssey. It, however, is not a package as such, as you need to collect the various resources separately, which makes it perhaps a better analogue for a program such as Biblioplan.
As I said, I like this process - dividing up our spine text, partitioning the assigned reading, developing the written assignments to correspond with it. Even when I'm frustrated, I like lining up our literature to more or less correspond to what we're studying in history. So the lack of an appropriate program doesn't affect me very much. I suspect there are those out there for whom it does, however.
Sometimes I consider making my own schedules pretty, and making them available inexpensively as a pdf. I don't have a good sense of average reading speeds, though, much less average anything else. The plans I make end up being customized not just for our family, but for each particular child. So, in general, I lean towards making them available for free, so that the next homeschooling parent can use and tweak upon my foundation. I don't claim to be anything but organized. That said, some samples can be found at Scribd, and I'm happy to email those files which are not posted in their entirety.
And now I've got to get back to plotting out art & music appreciation. ;)
My first item of business was to finalize what books to use for history for both EG and FB. There are a few that will overlap - thank you, David Macaulay! - but overall, EG is ahead of the curve enough that resources that are appropriate for her are just too much for a kindergartener, even a bright and inquisitive one. Which, of course, meant two lists.
As I approached the third or fourth hour of looking up books and eliminating those that were out of print, I reflected upon the fact that while it seemed somewhat like drudgery, I did enjoy it, for the most part. We very briefly tried a pre-planned curriculum when EG preschool-age, and I tweaked it mercilessly. Pre-planned just doesn't work for us.
However, it's a good thing that I enjoy planning, because if I wanted a pre-planned package, I would have considerable difficulty finding one to suit our needs.
If you are more conservative Christian, there are a number of pre-planned package programs using a variety of styles. There's Sonlight, of course, and Winter Promise, My Father's World, and Heart of Dakota. While not quite as packaged, there's also Tapestry of Grace.
If you want something a little more nonsectarian, you have approximately one choice, in terms of pre-scheduled guides: History Odyssey. It, however, is not a package as such, as you need to collect the various resources separately, which makes it perhaps a better analogue for a program such as Biblioplan.
As I said, I like this process - dividing up our spine text, partitioning the assigned reading, developing the written assignments to correspond with it. Even when I'm frustrated, I like lining up our literature to more or less correspond to what we're studying in history. So the lack of an appropriate program doesn't affect me very much. I suspect there are those out there for whom it does, however.
Sometimes I consider making my own schedules pretty, and making them available inexpensively as a pdf. I don't have a good sense of average reading speeds, though, much less average anything else. The plans I make end up being customized not just for our family, but for each particular child. So, in general, I lean towards making them available for free, so that the next homeschooling parent can use and tweak upon my foundation. I don't claim to be anything but organized. That said, some samples can be found at Scribd, and I'm happy to email those files which are not posted in their entirety.
And now I've got to get back to plotting out art & music appreciation. ;)
25.2.10
Secular Thursday
I admit it - I tried to ignore it at first.
Like any good liberal, I can see bias in the media in a heartbeat. Misogyny, racism, homophobia, you bring it, I'll spot it - even in cases where perhaps I'm jumping the gun. Even when maybe it wasn't intended. So I told myself I was being overly sensitive.
But when they kept harping on the tassel during the other figure skating events, I decided it wasn't just me.
If you've been following the Olympics, the reference to the tassel probably tells you what I'm discussing. For those that haven't, one of members of the men's US figure skating team, Johnny Weir, had a hot pink tassel on his costume for the short program.
So, naturally, that's what everyone was talking about.
Not his clean skate of the short and long programs. But his costume choices. Johnny Weir, you see, is confident in himself. He stands out. And he's not hyper-masculine. He's done interviews with gay publications. He downplays his own sexual orientation - "...it's not part of my sport and it's private. I can sleep with whomever I choose and it doesn't affect what I'm doing on the ice." - but the fact that he has to answer this question says something about how he is perceived.
In short, people think Johnny Weir just might be queer, and in today's society, that bothers far too many people.
I got tired of hearing the tassel mentioned with the faint hint of a sneer behind the words. It was mentioned when it didn't need to be mentioned, and I expressed my frustration to some friends. And I labeled it.
Unbeknownst to me, the American coverage was benign in comparison to that in some other countries. Johnny kept it classy, though, and mostly stayed above the fray. His comment about not shaving to show he was indeed a man hit just the right note, in my opinion. I don't really want to repeat some of what has been said. Google will steer you in the correct direction; a summary can also be found here.
Why, though, this institutionalized homophobia? I want to make it emphatically clear that I'm talking about cultural or societal homophobia - secular homophobia.
The best explanation I can come up with is the following, presented in a fairly simple form. Masculinity defines itself in terms of what it is not. Masculine is not feminine. Masculine is not gay. Because it is defined in terms of what it is not, instead of what it actually is, masculinity is far too easily threatened. When the definition is based on shaky ground, anything can threaten it.
Like a man who has any qualities traditionally considered female.
Like a man who might want another man sexually.
Like a man who has the confidence to be himself, rather than fall into lockstep with the expected hypermasculine pose.
I... don't have a good conclusion for this. I don't have any suggestions, or solutions. I just think that attacking a person is wrong. Hate is wrong.
Rock the tassel, Johnny.
Like any good liberal, I can see bias in the media in a heartbeat. Misogyny, racism, homophobia, you bring it, I'll spot it - even in cases where perhaps I'm jumping the gun. Even when maybe it wasn't intended. So I told myself I was being overly sensitive.
But when they kept harping on the tassel during the other figure skating events, I decided it wasn't just me.
If you've been following the Olympics, the reference to the tassel probably tells you what I'm discussing. For those that haven't, one of members of the men's US figure skating team, Johnny Weir, had a hot pink tassel on his costume for the short program.
So, naturally, that's what everyone was talking about.
Not his clean skate of the short and long programs. But his costume choices. Johnny Weir, you see, is confident in himself. He stands out. And he's not hyper-masculine. He's done interviews with gay publications. He downplays his own sexual orientation - "...it's not part of my sport and it's private. I can sleep with whomever I choose and it doesn't affect what I'm doing on the ice." - but the fact that he has to answer this question says something about how he is perceived.
In short, people think Johnny Weir just might be queer, and in today's society, that bothers far too many people.
I got tired of hearing the tassel mentioned with the faint hint of a sneer behind the words. It was mentioned when it didn't need to be mentioned, and I expressed my frustration to some friends. And I labeled it.
Unbeknownst to me, the American coverage was benign in comparison to that in some other countries. Johnny kept it classy, though, and mostly stayed above the fray. His comment about not shaving to show he was indeed a man hit just the right note, in my opinion. I don't really want to repeat some of what has been said. Google will steer you in the correct direction; a summary can also be found here.
Why, though, this institutionalized homophobia? I want to make it emphatically clear that I'm talking about cultural or societal homophobia - secular homophobia.
The best explanation I can come up with is the following, presented in a fairly simple form. Masculinity defines itself in terms of what it is not. Masculine is not feminine. Masculine is not gay. Because it is defined in terms of what it is not, instead of what it actually is, masculinity is far too easily threatened. When the definition is based on shaky ground, anything can threaten it.
Like a man who has any qualities traditionally considered female.
Like a man who might want another man sexually.
Like a man who has the confidence to be himself, rather than fall into lockstep with the expected hypermasculine pose.
I... don't have a good conclusion for this. I don't have any suggestions, or solutions. I just think that attacking a person is wrong. Hate is wrong.
Rock the tassel, Johnny.
18.2.10
Before All of This Ever Went Down
A week or two ago, when I was having blogger's block, Daisy suggested I post something about how we came to decide to homeschool. So, if you're bored, blame Daisy.
No, don't blame Daisy, she's too nice to blame. :)
I've always been interested in education. I can remember when I was in elementary school, my mother got a book from the library about signs of excellence in K-8 education. I read it more thoroughly than she. When I discovered I was pregnant with EG, I interspersed my books about pregnancy, birth, and breastfeeding with books about education.
Yes, Smrt Mama, this means I really did start reading about homeschooling while I was still pregnant.
There was book that was shiny and new at the bookstore, and it intrigued me. My beloved library had a copy in the new books section. I checked it out and brought it home.
"Education at home?" the spousal unit queried. "What's this?"
"Don't worry," I assured him. "I'm just using it as a list of what to look for in a school."
Luckily for me, the spousal unit doesn't have such a good memory.
EG arrived, and I still worried about her education. We looked into a local Waldorf school, and decided against it. We had concerns about the local public schools. We'd both gone to highly thought of private schools, and had at times been bored stiff. Being bored stiff is generally not a road towards a good outcome, though the bad outcomes come in many varieties. We investigated private schools in the area and determined that the chance of having our non-legacy, non-sibling child accepted was quite low. They often had 100 applications just from those two categories - for fifty spaces.
And I did read other books about homeschooling. Still, though, I kept returning to that same shiny book which had first fascinated me. There was something so reasonable and logical about its suggestions. Over time - and I did have several years - I came to the conclusion that I could do this just as well, if not better, than the professional. Yes, there's some arrogance in that statement, and I don't intend to deny it. In many cases, choosing to homeschool does express some amount of arrogance. It is what it is.
Honestly, though, I don't know that I would have even considered homeschooling without that book. I had had an excellent education for grades one through twelve, and I knew it. I learned to decline nouns (as well as accept them ;), conjugate verbs, derive, integrate, use primary sources, keep a lab notebook, and diagram sentences. I used that book as a guide because it so closely approximated what my own education had been like, and filled in the gaps I had in retrospect perceived (such as art history). I knew what an excellent education looked like, and I knew that this book was a blueprint for one.
As you might have guessed, the book was the first edition of The Well-Trained Mind, and I'm sure I amused the librarians immensely by checking it out while still pregnant with my first. I think homeschooling would have been rejected as an option without it, though.
So, ultimately, we homeschool for academic excellence. As years have passed, I see so many other advantages and reasons, but the check in my mind is Are we still doing it better? Better than the local public school. Better than whatever private school both the children could be accepted to, and that we could afford. Arrogance? Oh, I'm sure it is. But for me, if we're not doing it at least as well as, preferably better, than we've failed.
The Well-Trained Mind influenced my expectations of the homeschooling movement, too. It was written from a mainstream perspective; Judeo-Christian values seemed to be most prized, but not in any sort of extreme or fundamentalist way. The issue of evolution was touched upon but barely, and none of the recommended science curricula were explicitly creationist. When I was doing my research into homeschooling, there was concurrently a surge in publication of non-religious homeschooling books. It was easy to find the 'nonpartisan, nonsectarian' statewide homeschool organization, and I didn't yet need to find a local support group.
In short, it was years before I realized just how religious the majority of structured homeschoolers are. And like my earlier disillusionment with the church in which I'd been raised, it was a shock. While I've lurked on the WTM boards for years, and posted sporadically since 2004 or so, it's only been in the last year or so that I've been able to maintain reading long-term. Too often before, I would get frustrated with the conservatism and the fundamentalism, but beyond that, the attitudes that only if you agreed exactly with them were you a good person. Perhaps that wasn't the intention, but it was too often the message I took with me.
Because of the seeming correlation between level of religiosity and the amount of structure in homeschooling, it can be difficult to find like-minded individuals. Because my primary reason for homeschooling is to do it not just differently, but better, I think my approach probably tends to be even more... off-putting. I can be an off-putting individual anyway, so there you go.
In the end, I'm ever so glad I picked up that shiny book at the bookstore, wrote down the title, and found it at the library.
No, don't blame Daisy, she's too nice to blame. :)
I've always been interested in education. I can remember when I was in elementary school, my mother got a book from the library about signs of excellence in K-8 education. I read it more thoroughly than she. When I discovered I was pregnant with EG, I interspersed my books about pregnancy, birth, and breastfeeding with books about education.
Yes, Smrt Mama, this means I really did start reading about homeschooling while I was still pregnant.
There was book that was shiny and new at the bookstore, and it intrigued me. My beloved library had a copy in the new books section. I checked it out and brought it home.
"Education at home?" the spousal unit queried. "What's this?"
"Don't worry," I assured him. "I'm just using it as a list of what to look for in a school."
Luckily for me, the spousal unit doesn't have such a good memory.
EG arrived, and I still worried about her education. We looked into a local Waldorf school, and decided against it. We had concerns about the local public schools. We'd both gone to highly thought of private schools, and had at times been bored stiff. Being bored stiff is generally not a road towards a good outcome, though the bad outcomes come in many varieties. We investigated private schools in the area and determined that the chance of having our non-legacy, non-sibling child accepted was quite low. They often had 100 applications just from those two categories - for fifty spaces.
And I did read other books about homeschooling. Still, though, I kept returning to that same shiny book which had first fascinated me. There was something so reasonable and logical about its suggestions. Over time - and I did have several years - I came to the conclusion that I could do this just as well, if not better, than the professional. Yes, there's some arrogance in that statement, and I don't intend to deny it. In many cases, choosing to homeschool does express some amount of arrogance. It is what it is.
Honestly, though, I don't know that I would have even considered homeschooling without that book. I had had an excellent education for grades one through twelve, and I knew it. I learned to decline nouns (as well as accept them ;), conjugate verbs, derive, integrate, use primary sources, keep a lab notebook, and diagram sentences. I used that book as a guide because it so closely approximated what my own education had been like, and filled in the gaps I had in retrospect perceived (such as art history). I knew what an excellent education looked like, and I knew that this book was a blueprint for one.
As you might have guessed, the book was the first edition of The Well-Trained Mind, and I'm sure I amused the librarians immensely by checking it out while still pregnant with my first. I think homeschooling would have been rejected as an option without it, though.
So, ultimately, we homeschool for academic excellence. As years have passed, I see so many other advantages and reasons, but the check in my mind is Are we still doing it better? Better than the local public school. Better than whatever private school both the children could be accepted to, and that we could afford. Arrogance? Oh, I'm sure it is. But for me, if we're not doing it at least as well as, preferably better, than we've failed.
The Well-Trained Mind influenced my expectations of the homeschooling movement, too. It was written from a mainstream perspective; Judeo-Christian values seemed to be most prized, but not in any sort of extreme or fundamentalist way. The issue of evolution was touched upon but barely, and none of the recommended science curricula were explicitly creationist. When I was doing my research into homeschooling, there was concurrently a surge in publication of non-religious homeschooling books. It was easy to find the 'nonpartisan, nonsectarian' statewide homeschool organization, and I didn't yet need to find a local support group.
In short, it was years before I realized just how religious the majority of structured homeschoolers are. And like my earlier disillusionment with the church in which I'd been raised, it was a shock. While I've lurked on the WTM boards for years, and posted sporadically since 2004 or so, it's only been in the last year or so that I've been able to maintain reading long-term. Too often before, I would get frustrated with the conservatism and the fundamentalism, but beyond that, the attitudes that only if you agreed exactly with them were you a good person. Perhaps that wasn't the intention, but it was too often the message I took with me.
Because of the seeming correlation between level of religiosity and the amount of structure in homeschooling, it can be difficult to find like-minded individuals. Because my primary reason for homeschooling is to do it not just differently, but better, I think my approach probably tends to be even more... off-putting. I can be an off-putting individual anyway, so there you go.
In the end, I'm ever so glad I picked up that shiny book at the bookstore, wrote down the title, and found it at the library.
11.2.10
Secular Thursday: Homeschooling's Not For Everyone
Homeschooling is not an activity that should be undertaken by all. Just as not all women should attempt an unassisted birth, not all parents are willing and/or able to take on the responsibility associated with homeschooling. Many parents realize this and do not attempt to homeschool.
Other parents, it seems, do not.
I don't wish to single out particular people, but I do see examples, and I'd like to cite some of them.
• If you've been reading a book for some time as a family, shouldn't you know that it is called Johnny Tremain and not Johnny Tremaine?
• A message board post reads "What would you do for kindergarten if you only had thirty minutes a day four days a week? My daughter will be a kindergartener in the fall, and she is my last child, so I want this to be fun for both of us. ...but with three older dc, I need it to be short and sweet." I don't really understand this at all. What will this woman do in two years' time, when she will have a high school age student (14), a middle school age student (12), an upper elementary age student (10), and a second grader (7)? Will she still relegate her youngest to a half-hearted, quickie version of school? I understand that formal academics is not as important at the kindergarten age, but it seems desperately sad that you would limit your interactions with one child so severely. How will the following year be different? How will more time appear in her schedule so that she can teach her then-first grader?
Homeschooling is a commitment. Many experienced homeschooling parents will argue that it should be approached as if it were a job. (Many other will disagree, but I'm concentrating on the first set.) I would agree - and I suppose some would argue that nearly five years of homeschooling lets me speak as one of those who is experienced. Unless you are planning to unschool, which is a completely different philosophy, you need to have plans, goals, and expectations. No, homeschooling doesn't have to mean drudgery. Often, enough school is completed to enable us to go out of the house by 10:30 or 11 am. However, that doesn't mean that it does not require some commitment from the parents. Depending on the approach that is taken, it can mean a significant investment of time and resources. Since I fall into the camp of "if it's worth doing, it's probably worth doing well," I'd argue that if you're not willing to make those investments, you need to look at why you're doing it.
What level of investment do I mean? It looks different for different families, of course. For us, it means a significant amount of time that I spend researching resources and approaches before purchasing, and then a smaller but still significant amount of time spent planning how we'll use those resources. On a daily basis, I instruct Eclectic Girl in spelling, provide direction with writing, discuss reading assignments, and check work in all other areas, requiring her to correct those exercises that were initially wrong. We spend time together with language arts, and discussing what she's reading in history or science. I also spend time teaching Fabulous Boy phonics, handwriting, and math. I guide both of them to do memory work. There's also a lot of reading aloud. Apart from the home instruction, I'm often driving them to enrichment classes or extracurricular activities. Yes, I would still take my children to the YMCA to swim or participate in swim lessons, even if we weren't homeschooling, but I think it's safe to say that many of our weekly activities would no longer be on the calendar.
My personal goal is to read for at least an hour per day. Thirty minutes is for pleasure, and the other is for research. The latter one generally consists of items I am researching for school. What's in that pile? Currently, I'm reading through Building Foundations of Scientific Understanding, and just finished Readicide. Susan Wise Bauer's The History of Medieval World is straddling the line between research and pleasure; I do wish Dr. Nebel were as enjoyable to read as SWB! My pleasure book at the moment is re-reading David Eddings' Mallorean series before I pack them for our hopefully impending mve.
I also consider it my (and my partner's) responsibility to model life-long learning, and a love of learning. My stack of books to read for pleasure is in fact composed primarily of non-fiction works, especially concerning various science and social science topics. Eclectic Girl is learning to play the trumpet, which has inspired the spousal unit to investigate getting a new clarinet (his old one got pad mites, apparently). We listen to educational podcasts as a family, but not out of an effort to impress Learning upon the children; we just happen to enjoy them. Lately, too, the spousal unit and I have made an effort to showcase ourselves learning new things together. This has mostly taken the form of reading from the same book and then discussing it, but we've also purchased some courses from The Teaching Company that we view once a week or so. Now, with regards to this paragraph, I'm certainly not saying that non-homeschooling parents don't do some or all of these or related things, or even more than this. I want, however, to draw the point that we continue to do all of these things, in addition to homeschooling-specific duties.
In sum, then, homeschooling entails a significant amount of dedication as well as zeal, and this should be carefully considered, along with more commonly cited issues such as "don't you get tired of being around your kids all day?" or "my kids wouldn't listen to me, we'd just argue all day." Even when you are willing and eager to be around your kids all day, and your kids do not argue with you, there are deeper requirements that should be met. Yes, many homeschooling parents will tell you that of course you can homeschool; after all, you helped your children learn throughout the first years of their life. Advancing academics, though, are hardly comparable to biological imperatives such as walking, and you must be certain that you will follow through on your commitment.
I don't mean to be discouraging. If someone wants to homeschool, but fears they may have an issue with the time and thought needed, the desire can help make the necessary commitments happen. I do think, though, that any homeschooling parent must periodically evaluate what their homeschool is accomplishing. If there are serious issues, they need to be rectified as soon as humanly possible, or the parents may need to consider other educational options.
Other parents, it seems, do not.
I don't wish to single out particular people, but I do see examples, and I'd like to cite some of them.
• If you've been reading a book for some time as a family, shouldn't you know that it is called Johnny Tremain and not Johnny Tremaine?
• A message board post reads "What would you do for kindergarten if you only had thirty minutes a day four days a week? My daughter will be a kindergartener in the fall, and she is my last child, so I want this to be fun for both of us. ...but with three older dc, I need it to be short and sweet." I don't really understand this at all. What will this woman do in two years' time, when she will have a high school age student (14), a middle school age student (12), an upper elementary age student (10), and a second grader (7)? Will she still relegate her youngest to a half-hearted, quickie version of school? I understand that formal academics is not as important at the kindergarten age, but it seems desperately sad that you would limit your interactions with one child so severely. How will the following year be different? How will more time appear in her schedule so that she can teach her then-first grader?
Homeschooling is a commitment. Many experienced homeschooling parents will argue that it should be approached as if it were a job. (Many other will disagree, but I'm concentrating on the first set.) I would agree - and I suppose some would argue that nearly five years of homeschooling lets me speak as one of those who is experienced. Unless you are planning to unschool, which is a completely different philosophy, you need to have plans, goals, and expectations. No, homeschooling doesn't have to mean drudgery. Often, enough school is completed to enable us to go out of the house by 10:30 or 11 am. However, that doesn't mean that it does not require some commitment from the parents. Depending on the approach that is taken, it can mean a significant investment of time and resources. Since I fall into the camp of "if it's worth doing, it's probably worth doing well," I'd argue that if you're not willing to make those investments, you need to look at why you're doing it.
What level of investment do I mean? It looks different for different families, of course. For us, it means a significant amount of time that I spend researching resources and approaches before purchasing, and then a smaller but still significant amount of time spent planning how we'll use those resources. On a daily basis, I instruct Eclectic Girl in spelling, provide direction with writing, discuss reading assignments, and check work in all other areas, requiring her to correct those exercises that were initially wrong. We spend time together with language arts, and discussing what she's reading in history or science. I also spend time teaching Fabulous Boy phonics, handwriting, and math. I guide both of them to do memory work. There's also a lot of reading aloud. Apart from the home instruction, I'm often driving them to enrichment classes or extracurricular activities. Yes, I would still take my children to the YMCA to swim or participate in swim lessons, even if we weren't homeschooling, but I think it's safe to say that many of our weekly activities would no longer be on the calendar.
My personal goal is to read for at least an hour per day. Thirty minutes is for pleasure, and the other is for research. The latter one generally consists of items I am researching for school. What's in that pile? Currently, I'm reading through Building Foundations of Scientific Understanding, and just finished Readicide. Susan Wise Bauer's The History of Medieval World is straddling the line between research and pleasure; I do wish Dr. Nebel were as enjoyable to read as SWB! My pleasure book at the moment is re-reading David Eddings' Mallorean series before I pack them for our hopefully impending mve.
I also consider it my (and my partner's) responsibility to model life-long learning, and a love of learning. My stack of books to read for pleasure is in fact composed primarily of non-fiction works, especially concerning various science and social science topics. Eclectic Girl is learning to play the trumpet, which has inspired the spousal unit to investigate getting a new clarinet (his old one got pad mites, apparently). We listen to educational podcasts as a family, but not out of an effort to impress Learning upon the children; we just happen to enjoy them. Lately, too, the spousal unit and I have made an effort to showcase ourselves learning new things together. This has mostly taken the form of reading from the same book and then discussing it, but we've also purchased some courses from The Teaching Company that we view once a week or so. Now, with regards to this paragraph, I'm certainly not saying that non-homeschooling parents don't do some or all of these or related things, or even more than this. I want, however, to draw the point that we continue to do all of these things, in addition to homeschooling-specific duties.
In sum, then, homeschooling entails a significant amount of dedication as well as zeal, and this should be carefully considered, along with more commonly cited issues such as "don't you get tired of being around your kids all day?" or "my kids wouldn't listen to me, we'd just argue all day." Even when you are willing and eager to be around your kids all day, and your kids do not argue with you, there are deeper requirements that should be met. Yes, many homeschooling parents will tell you that of course you can homeschool; after all, you helped your children learn throughout the first years of their life. Advancing academics, though, are hardly comparable to biological imperatives such as walking, and you must be certain that you will follow through on your commitment.
I don't mean to be discouraging. If someone wants to homeschool, but fears they may have an issue with the time and thought needed, the desire can help make the necessary commitments happen. I do think, though, that any homeschooling parent must periodically evaluate what their homeschool is accomplishing. If there are serious issues, they need to be rectified as soon as humanly possible, or the parents may need to consider other educational options.
28.1.10
That's Me in the Spotlight, Losing My Religion
[At the risk of offending essentially everyone, I present my SecThurs post for this week.]
I was raised Southern Baptist.
I want everyone to stop, and read that again. Please understand: I was raised Southern Baptist. I was brought up on a steady diet of personal relationships with Jesus, Bible stories, and priesthood of the believer. Scots-Irish to the end, I grew up believing in God and also believing that no one had the right to tell me what to believe about God.
I also was brought up knowing that Jimmy Carter was a Southern Baptist. Insult just about everyone else in the world and I'll let it slide, but don't insult Jimmy Carter in front of me.
It wouldn't too be strong a word to say that I felt increasingly betrayed as the '90s proceeded. "Christian Right"? "Religious Right"? But... I was a Christian. I didn't agree with them. In fact, I disagreed with them. Who were they to define what a "Christian" was or was not?
Then the Southern Baptists made their conversion to radicals complete. We were supposed to boycott Disney? The very next Sunday, the pastor at my then-church and the music minister both wore Mickey Mouse ties. Our associate pastor was a woman. I felt safer, again. Sure, the leadership was apparently going crazy, but they weren't every Southern Baptist. Priesthood of the believer! Personal relationship! They couldn't tell me what to believe!
Except, of course, that it was a sham. My church was one of the last oases to be found, I now believe. And increasingly, I've become so disenchanted with those who supposedly share my faith that I no longer claim their religion.
I hate the labels of "Christian Content," because they too often assume that all Christians must think alike, in lockstep. If I don't agree, then I cannot be a Christian. I dislike the churches that preach on politics. If I don't vote Republican, then I cannot be a Christian. I believe in human rights for all, including the right to legal protection for all partnerships (I think the government shouldn't grant marriages, just unions, to everyone). If I don't vote against gay marriage, though, then I must not be a Christian. Evolution is my favorite scientific theory (I think it's tops, better than gravity!). Evolution, though, means you must not be a Christian, so I cannot be a Christian by that definition. If I don't agree with the interpretation of the Bible that leads to submission by women, then I must not be a Christian.
The list goes on and on.
So, eventually, it wears you down. If they don't want me, then fine. I will not claim the label. My relationship with God is just that - mine. And if they want to take the label of Christian and turn it into a litmus test, then so be it. I'll label myself something else when a label is necessary. I know what I believe and I feel more secure in my faith as the years pass. I pray. I study theological issues, the Bible, and early church history. Yet, I won't call myself just a Christian. Do I have mixed feelings about it? Certainly.
There's the crux of the issue. I have mixed feelings about it. I've lost my religion, but never my own (particularly quirky) faith. I can't categorize my faith and would possibly resent being asked to do so. I've been known to label myself as a "really liberal Christian," a "Christopagan," a "strange hybrid Christopagan Deist," and other odd combinations of words. Notice that there's a variation of "Christian" in all of them, though. "Jesus" doesn't combine into words so neatly, and that's the thing. I've never stopped thinking Jesus was the cat's pajamas. Awesomesauce. The bee's knees. Et cetera. For as long as I hold that opinion, I'm going to feel a little put out. A little left out. A little bit curious as to when it became so bad to be an evolutionarily-thinking non-submissive female Christian.
I was raised Southern Baptist.
I want everyone to stop, and read that again. Please understand: I was raised Southern Baptist. I was brought up on a steady diet of personal relationships with Jesus, Bible stories, and priesthood of the believer. Scots-Irish to the end, I grew up believing in God and also believing that no one had the right to tell me what to believe about God.
I also was brought up knowing that Jimmy Carter was a Southern Baptist. Insult just about everyone else in the world and I'll let it slide, but don't insult Jimmy Carter in front of me.
It wouldn't too be strong a word to say that I felt increasingly betrayed as the '90s proceeded. "Christian Right"? "Religious Right"? But... I was a Christian. I didn't agree with them. In fact, I disagreed with them. Who were they to define what a "Christian" was or was not?
Then the Southern Baptists made their conversion to radicals complete. We were supposed to boycott Disney? The very next Sunday, the pastor at my then-church and the music minister both wore Mickey Mouse ties. Our associate pastor was a woman. I felt safer, again. Sure, the leadership was apparently going crazy, but they weren't every Southern Baptist. Priesthood of the believer! Personal relationship! They couldn't tell me what to believe!
Except, of course, that it was a sham. My church was one of the last oases to be found, I now believe. And increasingly, I've become so disenchanted with those who supposedly share my faith that I no longer claim their religion.
I hate the labels of "Christian Content," because they too often assume that all Christians must think alike, in lockstep. If I don't agree, then I cannot be a Christian. I dislike the churches that preach on politics. If I don't vote Republican, then I cannot be a Christian. I believe in human rights for all, including the right to legal protection for all partnerships (I think the government shouldn't grant marriages, just unions, to everyone). If I don't vote against gay marriage, though, then I must not be a Christian. Evolution is my favorite scientific theory (I think it's tops, better than gravity!). Evolution, though, means you must not be a Christian, so I cannot be a Christian by that definition. If I don't agree with the interpretation of the Bible that leads to submission by women, then I must not be a Christian.
The list goes on and on.
So, eventually, it wears you down. If they don't want me, then fine. I will not claim the label. My relationship with God is just that - mine. And if they want to take the label of Christian and turn it into a litmus test, then so be it. I'll label myself something else when a label is necessary. I know what I believe and I feel more secure in my faith as the years pass. I pray. I study theological issues, the Bible, and early church history. Yet, I won't call myself just a Christian. Do I have mixed feelings about it? Certainly.
There's the crux of the issue. I have mixed feelings about it. I've lost my religion, but never my own (particularly quirky) faith. I can't categorize my faith and would possibly resent being asked to do so. I've been known to label myself as a "really liberal Christian," a "Christopagan," a "strange hybrid Christopagan Deist," and other odd combinations of words. Notice that there's a variation of "Christian" in all of them, though. "Jesus" doesn't combine into words so neatly, and that's the thing. I've never stopped thinking Jesus was the cat's pajamas. Awesomesauce. The bee's knees. Et cetera. For as long as I hold that opinion, I'm going to feel a little put out. A little left out. A little bit curious as to when it became so bad to be an evolutionarily-thinking non-submissive female Christian.
21.1.10
Here Is A Gold Star for You, and You, and You, and You, and ...
I didn't expect, but shouldn't have been surprised, that so many could identify with my post last Thursday. I decided there were too many wonderful comments to answer them all in that post, so voila! A new post.
I wonder firstly if the very things that made some of us confident to homeschool are contributing now to the wish for some kind of praise or recognition. I will freely admit that a large part of my initial thoughts about homeschooling centered around the fact that, well, some people might have doubts about their knowledge, but I knew that I was smart and had had an excellent 1-12 education, not to mention attended a first-rate university. I had taken Latin. In retrospect, I even had the much lauded "proofy" algebra, though at the time I just thought that was how one did algebra.
I'm also remembering now, after some of your comments, how my parents would get flack at church for their educational decisions, too. I was sent to a private school, and not one that was explicitly Christian, either.
Of course, I lived in the south, and the explicitly Christian schools had all been established in the decade or two following Brown v. Board of Education Topeka, so I think my parents were quite right to avoid them at that time. I'm sure they're lovely schools that have overcome that inglorious past by now.
I will add that there does seem to be a church somewhere in my area that produces a prodigious number of homeschoolers, since they all seem to know each other, but I have no idea what church or where it is - and it may be that it's so large that the homeschoolers are still a small percentage of the overall church. Churches around here tend to the very small (under 100 average attendance) or the very large (at least 800), so even 50 homeschoolers at a church could still be less than 10 or 20% of all kids.
I do think it will almost have to be different for these homeschooled kids. While they may have been in a classroom environment in enrichment situations, the one who were always homeschooled, especially, aren't going to have the same strong association with day-in day-out praise, stickers, awards assemblies, and the like.
As an aside, every time I see that there's (yet another) awards assembly at the local elementary school, I think to myself, "Too bad I don't count it as part of a school day when the spousal unit comes home and the kids tell him what they did that day. I bet over the course of the year, that adds up to at least a days' worth of instruction." In all seriousness, the local elementary school has an awards assembly after every single nine week grading period, as far as I can tell. (Back in the day, we just called that a "quarter," but they call it a "nine week grading period.") An hour to two hours times four times a year is between four and eight hours... and four and a half hours is the official legislative definition of a homeschool day in this state.
Above all, though, I think it's tied into society's general lack of regard for work that has traditionally been ascribed to women. I'm not saying that as a political statement; I think most liberals and conservatives alike can agree that the vast majority of our society only values that work which is done for monetary compensation, and devalues that work which is not. It's true for teaching in general (having been an "acceptable occupation" for women before just about any other), it's true for the acts of parenting, and it's true for homeschooling. If the work is devalued, then there is little reason for anyone to praise it. It's simply not on the radar as anything to even examine.
I wonder firstly if the very things that made some of us confident to homeschool are contributing now to the wish for some kind of praise or recognition. I will freely admit that a large part of my initial thoughts about homeschooling centered around the fact that, well, some people might have doubts about their knowledge, but I knew that I was smart and had had an excellent 1-12 education, not to mention attended a first-rate university. I had taken Latin. In retrospect, I even had the much lauded "proofy" algebra, though at the time I just thought that was how one did algebra.
I'm also remembering now, after some of your comments, how my parents would get flack at church for their educational decisions, too. I was sent to a private school, and not one that was explicitly Christian, either.
Of course, I lived in the south, and the explicitly Christian schools had all been established in the decade or two following Brown v. Board of Education Topeka, so I think my parents were quite right to avoid them at that time. I'm sure they're lovely schools that have overcome that inglorious past by now.
I will add that there does seem to be a church somewhere in my area that produces a prodigious number of homeschoolers, since they all seem to know each other, but I have no idea what church or where it is - and it may be that it's so large that the homeschoolers are still a small percentage of the overall church. Churches around here tend to the very small (under 100 average attendance) or the very large (at least 800), so even 50 homeschoolers at a church could still be less than 10 or 20% of all kids.
I do think it will almost have to be different for these homeschooled kids. While they may have been in a classroom environment in enrichment situations, the one who were always homeschooled, especially, aren't going to have the same strong association with day-in day-out praise, stickers, awards assemblies, and the like.
As an aside, every time I see that there's (yet another) awards assembly at the local elementary school, I think to myself, "Too bad I don't count it as part of a school day when the spousal unit comes home and the kids tell him what they did that day. I bet over the course of the year, that adds up to at least a days' worth of instruction." In all seriousness, the local elementary school has an awards assembly after every single nine week grading period, as far as I can tell. (Back in the day, we just called that a "quarter," but they call it a "nine week grading period.") An hour to two hours times four times a year is between four and eight hours... and four and a half hours is the official legislative definition of a homeschool day in this state.
Above all, though, I think it's tied into society's general lack of regard for work that has traditionally been ascribed to women. I'm not saying that as a political statement; I think most liberals and conservatives alike can agree that the vast majority of our society only values that work which is done for monetary compensation, and devalues that work which is not. It's true for teaching in general (having been an "acceptable occupation" for women before just about any other), it's true for the acts of parenting, and it's true for homeschooling. If the work is devalued, then there is little reason for anyone to praise it. It's simply not on the radar as anything to even examine.
14.1.10
Secular Thursday: The Approbation That Left Me
I have, in my files of "precious papers never to be thrown away," a test from high school. On the front cover of the blue book is a simple message.
"Simply the best. Thanks."
I should interject here that if you went to high school with me, you can probably guess within a teacher or two who might've said that and whose opinion would have mattered enough to me to keep it, but that's more or less beside the point.
It's been a long time since I was the best. It's been a long time, rather, since I've garnered any praise for any of my actions. I've read Alfie Kohn and I know I shouldn't give a rat's ass about outside approval, but guess what? I do. I was raised on a steady diet of A+, awards, and verbal approbation, and it's been a long hard hill to slide down.
I realized it might be out of hand a few days ago. Now, I knew it was weird when the spousal unit, or my parents, or wage-earning friends would describe an annual review in the workplace, and I'd feel a twinge of envy. I saw a passing reference last week, on the WTM boards, from someone who lives in a state where they are evaluated. It was about an idea she'd gotten from her evaluator. My reaction was a little telling - I found myself thinking, for a brief moment, "Hey! I wish I had an evaluator."
I desperately want one of Rachel Berry's gold stars.
Don't get me wrong; the spousal unit will dutifully tell me I'm doing decently, and I have friends that will tell me the same. It's been startlingly long, however, since anyone I would consider an observer or even slightly unbiased has been handing out the praise. The world's still not sure about stay at home moms, not now, and then I had to go and add something like homeschooling to it. Forget praise; most of society is figuring out how to get in a dig without my realizing it.
Hint to society: I'm smarter than you must think, because I catch those digs.
Why is this a secular Thursday topic, you ask? Don't all homeschooling parents experience these difficulties?
I don't know. I have heard tell, though, of churches and organizations of churches where homeschooling is expected. Women are praised for the work they do with their children. This almost sounds appealing, though limiting. I mean, if you don't want to keep homeschooling, then you're sort of stuck. So I figure, this might be worse for the secular ones. Especially those of us who have feminist leanings, who were considered smarter than the average bear, or just plain like getting noticed.
I really miss the positive comments, outside affirmation, and literal or figurative gold stars. It's going to be a long time before even the kids say "Thanks." I empathize with the actives on Dollhouse, always asking "Did I do my best?"
Until I get my answer and my confirmation, I'll keep my old test, and remember that once upon a time, I did.
"Simply the best. Thanks."
I should interject here that if you went to high school with me, you can probably guess within a teacher or two who might've said that and whose opinion would have mattered enough to me to keep it, but that's more or less beside the point.
It's been a long time since I was the best. It's been a long time, rather, since I've garnered any praise for any of my actions. I've read Alfie Kohn and I know I shouldn't give a rat's ass about outside approval, but guess what? I do. I was raised on a steady diet of A+, awards, and verbal approbation, and it's been a long hard hill to slide down.
I realized it might be out of hand a few days ago. Now, I knew it was weird when the spousal unit, or my parents, or wage-earning friends would describe an annual review in the workplace, and I'd feel a twinge of envy. I saw a passing reference last week, on the WTM boards, from someone who lives in a state where they are evaluated. It was about an idea she'd gotten from her evaluator. My reaction was a little telling - I found myself thinking, for a brief moment, "Hey! I wish I had an evaluator."
I desperately want one of Rachel Berry's gold stars.
Don't get me wrong; the spousal unit will dutifully tell me I'm doing decently, and I have friends that will tell me the same. It's been startlingly long, however, since anyone I would consider an observer or even slightly unbiased has been handing out the praise. The world's still not sure about stay at home moms, not now, and then I had to go and add something like homeschooling to it. Forget praise; most of society is figuring out how to get in a dig without my realizing it.
Hint to society: I'm smarter than you must think, because I catch those digs.
Why is this a secular Thursday topic, you ask? Don't all homeschooling parents experience these difficulties?
I don't know. I have heard tell, though, of churches and organizations of churches where homeschooling is expected. Women are praised for the work they do with their children. This almost sounds appealing, though limiting. I mean, if you don't want to keep homeschooling, then you're sort of stuck. So I figure, this might be worse for the secular ones. Especially those of us who have feminist leanings, who were considered smarter than the average bear, or just plain like getting noticed.
I really miss the positive comments, outside affirmation, and literal or figurative gold stars. It's going to be a long time before even the kids say "Thanks." I empathize with the actives on Dollhouse, always asking "Did I do my best?"
Until I get my answer and my confirmation, I'll keep my old test, and remember that once upon a time, I did.
7.1.10
Secular Thursday: There's A Land That I See Where The Children Are Free
I fought against red for years.
Pink, everyone knows, is just red mixed with white, and through that connection, red was irrevocably tainted in my eyes. I wasn't particularly sure if I liked blue all that well, but if it was seen as the opposite of pink, and I was supposed to like pink, well, then. Blue it was.
My first bicycle came in two colors - red and blue. I was five, and I could tell the salesperson expected me to choose red. The closest things I had to cousins growing up, EG, and now FB have all learned to ride a bicycle on my blue Schwinn.
For whatever reason, I enjoy tweaking society's gender expectations. I fall hard in the camp of nurture versus nature, though I think a good bit of the "nurture" is societal and essentially impossible to eradicate. It amuses me greatly that Smrt Mama's Captain Science has his greatest gifts with words, and EG's greatest gifts lie with math. See? They switched the traditional gender story. I derive irrational pleasure from situations such as that.
It also pleases me to no end that FB has excellent fine motor skills and enjoys the process of handwriting and forming letters, mainly because I've spent so many years reading homeschooling books and boards that insist boys "just don't write" or "can't write until they are older" or some such nonsense.
Gender roles are my primary problem with most organized religion. I grew up in a denomination that had theretofore emphasized an individual's relationship with God and an individual's interpretation of the Bible. The church I attended as a teen (still within said denomination) had a woman as the assistant pastor. Now, of course, that would be considered at best taboo. "Betrayed" is too strong of a word, but do I feel that said denomination is a different creature entirely than what I was taught? Of course.
Gender comes into play in the homeschooling world - how could it not? There's a spectrum of beliefs, but it was extremely startling to me when I realized that, yes, there were people who were giving their daughters less education than their sons, and truly felt that their daughters should not have any higher education. They were to be wives and mothers, and that, apparently, was that. Of course, there are variations that are not so extreme. However, fundamentally, I take issue with assigning pretty much any task or idea as "girls'," "boys'," men's," or "women's."
Yes, I'd like for my children to have domestic skills. I want my children to bake pies, mow lawns, and repair a hem. The key here, though, is that I want all my children to possess all of these practical skills. Not to have them possess around half, their prowess determined by their forty-sixth chromosome.
And so I keep celebrating when their interests run against what society would have them be. I make sure my son helps us in the kitchen, and that my daughter assists when it's time to clear brush in the year or wash the cars. It's my goal to raise citizens. Each should be able to say "I am a well-educated person," not "I am well-educated for a woman," or "I am a well-educated man; why should I know how to cook anything but ramen?" I don't want my daughters to think they're limited in their options, but neither do I want my son to feel that he is.
As Harry Belafonte & Marlo Thomas sang, "Mommies can be almost anything they want to be. Well, they can't be grandfathers, or daddies. ... Daddies can be almost anything they want to be. They can't be grandmas, or mommies." Not that I think my children even must have children, but you get the idea.
Parents are grown-ups, grown-ups with children... there are a lot of things that a lot of mommies and a lot of daddies and a lot of parents can do.
Pink, everyone knows, is just red mixed with white, and through that connection, red was irrevocably tainted in my eyes. I wasn't particularly sure if I liked blue all that well, but if it was seen as the opposite of pink, and I was supposed to like pink, well, then. Blue it was.
My first bicycle came in two colors - red and blue. I was five, and I could tell the salesperson expected me to choose red. The closest things I had to cousins growing up, EG, and now FB have all learned to ride a bicycle on my blue Schwinn.
For whatever reason, I enjoy tweaking society's gender expectations. I fall hard in the camp of nurture versus nature, though I think a good bit of the "nurture" is societal and essentially impossible to eradicate. It amuses me greatly that Smrt Mama's Captain Science has his greatest gifts with words, and EG's greatest gifts lie with math. See? They switched the traditional gender story. I derive irrational pleasure from situations such as that.
It also pleases me to no end that FB has excellent fine motor skills and enjoys the process of handwriting and forming letters, mainly because I've spent so many years reading homeschooling books and boards that insist boys "just don't write" or "can't write until they are older" or some such nonsense.
Gender roles are my primary problem with most organized religion. I grew up in a denomination that had theretofore emphasized an individual's relationship with God and an individual's interpretation of the Bible. The church I attended as a teen (still within said denomination) had a woman as the assistant pastor. Now, of course, that would be considered at best taboo. "Betrayed" is too strong of a word, but do I feel that said denomination is a different creature entirely than what I was taught? Of course.
Gender comes into play in the homeschooling world - how could it not? There's a spectrum of beliefs, but it was extremely startling to me when I realized that, yes, there were people who were giving their daughters less education than their sons, and truly felt that their daughters should not have any higher education. They were to be wives and mothers, and that, apparently, was that. Of course, there are variations that are not so extreme. However, fundamentally, I take issue with assigning pretty much any task or idea as "girls'," "boys'," men's," or "women's."
Yes, I'd like for my children to have domestic skills. I want my children to bake pies, mow lawns, and repair a hem. The key here, though, is that I want all my children to possess all of these practical skills. Not to have them possess around half, their prowess determined by their forty-sixth chromosome.
And so I keep celebrating when their interests run against what society would have them be. I make sure my son helps us in the kitchen, and that my daughter assists when it's time to clear brush in the year or wash the cars. It's my goal to raise citizens. Each should be able to say "I am a well-educated person," not "I am well-educated for a woman," or "I am a well-educated man; why should I know how to cook anything but ramen?" I don't want my daughters to think they're limited in their options, but neither do I want my son to feel that he is.
As Harry Belafonte & Marlo Thomas sang, "Mommies can be almost anything they want to be. Well, they can't be grandfathers, or daddies. ... Daddies can be almost anything they want to be. They can't be grandmas, or mommies." Not that I think my children even must have children, but you get the idea.
Parents are grown-ups, grown-ups with children... there are a lot of things that a lot of mommies and a lot of daddies and a lot of parents can do.
17.12.09
Secular Thursday: End of the Semester Musings
We're wrapping up our semester; tomorrow is our 90th day of school for this year, and it will be a light day as far as work.
Our life is somewhat in a state of limbo; we're planning to put the house for sale, and then we'll try to buy the house we want. This has overshadowed most of our school year, and in recent weeks, has led to the relocation of the school area, as well as the beginning of packing.
We've done a few new things this year, too, and let a few things lapse that we probably shouldn't've. Here, then, are my favorite new things, as well as the things I most want to resume.
01. My iPhone. The first day I got it, I jokingly referred to it as my secondary brain. It's truly grown to be that. I keep menus, grocery lists, gift lists, book lists, and more, all easily accessible wherever I am (and while I'm on a telephone call!). I downloaded the Kindle app, too, and that has been equally fabulous. I'm always on the lookout for the next way to improve the iPhone for my use, but it's already excellent. I truly think every homeschooling parent should consider a smartphone of some type. I'm partial to Apple products and the iPhone, but I'm sure others would work well, too.
02. The color laser printer, with scanning, faxing, and copying capabilities. How wonderful this is! We still go through ink quickly, but its purchase enabled us to do Lively Latin via the download option, and there have been many fewer times that we've been stymied by a lack of ink.
03. New curricula. Lively Latin has been a great find. The visual layout is perfect and I like that it reinforces material in various ways. Classical Writing Homer will be a good investment, too, based on previewing the material. Already, on week three, it's forcing EG to become a better self-editor.
04. Goal setting. Each week, on Sunday, we set goals as a family. FB has two goals, one of which are determined by the adults, the other determined by him. EG has three goals per week, with two determined by her and one by us. The spousal unit and I select four goals individually, and we then have between five and eight goals for the two of us together or for the family as a whole. We have yet to experience a week where all of the goals are completed, but I think it's an important process for all of us.
05. Friday night musicals. This has been neglected for the past two months or so, but I'm eager to reinstate it. I hope to supplement it with local performances of musicals, such as at high schools.
06. Sunday night specials. We've watched all of Blue Planet and nearly all of Planet Earth. We have a set of Sister Wendy art DVDs, and I hope to have us watch various other educational-type shows. I have Earth: The Biography, How the Earth Was Made, The Universe seasons one, two, and three, Evolution, Cracking the Code of Life, and The Miracle of Life all on the homeschool-related wish list on amazon.
07. Keeping busy. I was nervous about the number of activities scheduled at the beginning of the year. I still remain somewhat nervous, but overall, I think it's been great for the kids. Monday, Tuesday, and Friday afternoons all have activities planned, Wednesday morning is FB's tumbling class, and Thursday is science lab and EG's piano lessons.
08. This blog. I've sort of had a homeschool blog before, and I've maintained a personal, protected blog for years, but having a public blog has actually helped me focus some of my thoughts. Writing things down for others to read requires a certain amount of organization! Doing regular Secular Thursday, Weekly Report, and Wordless Wednesday posts helps keep in the mode of posting. The Weekly Report alone has been extremely helpful in keeping a realistic picture of what's been accomplished.
09. Smrt Mama. For a long time, I didn't make an effort to seek out fellow homeschoolers that lived nearby. Even once I did, I either connected with the mom, or the kids were at the same age/level as EG... not both. I was very careful not to push when she began to consider homeschooling last spring; homeschooling is never something about which someone should feel even a bit of pressure during the decision-making process. I won't lie, though, that I was thrilled with their decision.
10. iPod Touch. We got a free Touch with the purchase of the spousal unit's new computer over the summer. We decided to let EG use it, at least provisionally. We've had to make sure she doesn't spend too much time watching Tom & Jerry cartoons via the YouTube app, but she has been using it for a few school-related tasks, especially the timer feature. I'd like to get iFlipr for her over the Christmas break and spend time setting it up for use. In general, it's been a good supplemental tool.
11. Clarity and focus. Every year has seen an increase in this, with regards to our overall goals for the kids' educations. Still, I feel like this year has seen some productive discussions between us as parents. EG's started having some talks with us about her relative strengths and weaknesses, too, where we delve into prioritization. Finally, I feel like I myself have a better vision in my head of what I'd like the finish line to be.
12. Science experiment kits. I resisted buying these for years, because really. How hard could it be to just pick up the necessary items as needed? Apparently pretty difficult, because science experiments just weren't getting done. I splurged on full kits and voila! That plus having a regular appointment with friends for labs, and miraculously, science experiments are being completed.
Our life is somewhat in a state of limbo; we're planning to put the house for sale, and then we'll try to buy the house we want. This has overshadowed most of our school year, and in recent weeks, has led to the relocation of the school area, as well as the beginning of packing.
We've done a few new things this year, too, and let a few things lapse that we probably shouldn't've. Here, then, are my favorite new things, as well as the things I most want to resume.
01. My iPhone. The first day I got it, I jokingly referred to it as my secondary brain. It's truly grown to be that. I keep menus, grocery lists, gift lists, book lists, and more, all easily accessible wherever I am (and while I'm on a telephone call!). I downloaded the Kindle app, too, and that has been equally fabulous. I'm always on the lookout for the next way to improve the iPhone for my use, but it's already excellent. I truly think every homeschooling parent should consider a smartphone of some type. I'm partial to Apple products and the iPhone, but I'm sure others would work well, too.
02. The color laser printer, with scanning, faxing, and copying capabilities. How wonderful this is! We still go through ink quickly, but its purchase enabled us to do Lively Latin via the download option, and there have been many fewer times that we've been stymied by a lack of ink.
03. New curricula. Lively Latin has been a great find. The visual layout is perfect and I like that it reinforces material in various ways. Classical Writing Homer will be a good investment, too, based on previewing the material. Already, on week three, it's forcing EG to become a better self-editor.
04. Goal setting. Each week, on Sunday, we set goals as a family. FB has two goals, one of which are determined by the adults, the other determined by him. EG has three goals per week, with two determined by her and one by us. The spousal unit and I select four goals individually, and we then have between five and eight goals for the two of us together or for the family as a whole. We have yet to experience a week where all of the goals are completed, but I think it's an important process for all of us.
05. Friday night musicals. This has been neglected for the past two months or so, but I'm eager to reinstate it. I hope to supplement it with local performances of musicals, such as at high schools.
06. Sunday night specials. We've watched all of Blue Planet and nearly all of Planet Earth. We have a set of Sister Wendy art DVDs, and I hope to have us watch various other educational-type shows. I have Earth: The Biography, How the Earth Was Made, The Universe seasons one, two, and three, Evolution, Cracking the Code of Life, and The Miracle of Life all on the homeschool-related wish list on amazon.
07. Keeping busy. I was nervous about the number of activities scheduled at the beginning of the year. I still remain somewhat nervous, but overall, I think it's been great for the kids. Monday, Tuesday, and Friday afternoons all have activities planned, Wednesday morning is FB's tumbling class, and Thursday is science lab and EG's piano lessons.
08. This blog. I've sort of had a homeschool blog before, and I've maintained a personal, protected blog for years, but having a public blog has actually helped me focus some of my thoughts. Writing things down for others to read requires a certain amount of organization! Doing regular Secular Thursday, Weekly Report, and Wordless Wednesday posts helps keep in the mode of posting. The Weekly Report alone has been extremely helpful in keeping a realistic picture of what's been accomplished.
09. Smrt Mama. For a long time, I didn't make an effort to seek out fellow homeschoolers that lived nearby. Even once I did, I either connected with the mom, or the kids were at the same age/level as EG... not both. I was very careful not to push when she began to consider homeschooling last spring; homeschooling is never something about which someone should feel even a bit of pressure during the decision-making process. I won't lie, though, that I was thrilled with their decision.
10. iPod Touch. We got a free Touch with the purchase of the spousal unit's new computer over the summer. We decided to let EG use it, at least provisionally. We've had to make sure she doesn't spend too much time watching Tom & Jerry cartoons via the YouTube app, but she has been using it for a few school-related tasks, especially the timer feature. I'd like to get iFlipr for her over the Christmas break and spend time setting it up for use. In general, it's been a good supplemental tool.
11. Clarity and focus. Every year has seen an increase in this, with regards to our overall goals for the kids' educations. Still, I feel like this year has seen some productive discussions between us as parents. EG's started having some talks with us about her relative strengths and weaknesses, too, where we delve into prioritization. Finally, I feel like I myself have a better vision in my head of what I'd like the finish line to be.
12. Science experiment kits. I resisted buying these for years, because really. How hard could it be to just pick up the necessary items as needed? Apparently pretty difficult, because science experiments just weren't getting done. I splurged on full kits and voila! That plus having a regular appointment with friends for labs, and miraculously, science experiments are being completed.
