Wednesday 24 October 2007

Little Man confessed to me today that he just wasn’t “digging ‘The Legend of Sleepy Hollow’.”  “It’s boring, dad.”  Hmmm….  I consider a real example of how far I’ve come in my maturation/development as a homeschool parent that I reacted with total commiseration.  Believe me, it took some time to not only realize the futility of pushing/cajoling/forcing him to do something academic that he wasn’t interested in, especially reading a book he didn’t like, but to also comfortably ”roll-on” into something else without thinking I’d failed somehow or, worse, that I’d let him “quit” something. 

 ”Is it so boring you’d like to put it down and just move on to something else you might like better?” I asked.  “Ohhh, yeahhhh!” was his enthusiastic reply.  “What’d you have in mind?”  “The Call of the Wild looks interesting.”  ”Well, go for it!”   

Simple as that, and he was (almost) seamlessly back in the saddle.  I say almost because he was interupted a couple of times.  One, the bug man came today to do you know what to those nasty little creapy-crawly critters that have gotten entirely too bold as of late.  Secondly, our neighbor’s bird flew the coop and his (or hers?) very out of the ordinary chirp distracted Little Man and he snuck by me on his way out the front door to investigate.  Next thing I know I hear voices in the front yard and go out to find Little Man, my wife, and our neighbor trying to talk down her feathered friend from a tree across the street.  I find out that Little Man actually found the bird following the singing, recognized it (he and her daughter are fast friends, so he and the bird were already aquainted) and knocked on her door to alert her to that it was out.  “Thank god he came over.  I didn’t even know “Buddy” was out!!”  Alas, all attempts to coax Buddy down were unsuccessful, though even as late as an hour ago it was still nearby, though in a different tree.  The hope is it will return to its cage and millet being left on the front porch. 

We also gave Mrs. M another ride today to her physical therapy.  While waiting we drove to the office of a nearby local weekly to obtain some back issues.  Little Man wants to make a documentary; has said so several times since watching a clip interviewing the filmmaker of the Katrina documentary we watched last week.  I remember remarking how young she was to making such an important film.  Maybe that got his juices flowing, I don’t know.  This will be his first, and he wants it to be about the environment and especially about the severe drought our area is experiencing.  I suggested we get some back issues and use them as primary sources and for ideas about who he might interview if he thought that necessary.  He’s excited and confident…”Dad,” he says, “people are gonna pay attention to this film.  I know they will…because a kid made it!”  Ah, the unbridled opptimism and confidence of youth…

But, what a project, eh!?!  I can’t wait to send out the screening invites…       

Tuesday 23 October 2007

Little Man and I played checkers, chess, and several games on Superkids.  He also toured me through Science News for Kids.   There he found, read and printed a very interesting article for his mother on a surgical operation performed on the thalamus, which was quite appropriately “on topic” given his choice to study the brain and nervous system this week.  Left to his own devices, he’s actually quite responsible about his own education.  I notice he really enjoys exploring and sharing with me and his mom topics he chooses and finds interesting.  Little Man thinks all he’s learning is about the brain, but he’s really learning how to find information, digest it and share it with others…

Got several chapters deeper into “The Legend of Sleepy Hollow,” though he reports that it is a little slow-going so far, not near as good as “Frankenstein,” which he just finished.  His favorite at this point this year:  “The Prince and the Pauper.”  What kid hasn’t dreamed of being a prince or princess, huh?

Had some fun with math today figuring out how old different people will be in the year 2021.  First we had to figure out what year “Squeaky” will turn fifteen, which turned out to be in 2021, October 30 to be exact.  “Squeakman,” as I refer to him, is one of our cats who is looking forward to his first birthday one week from today. 

I’m still working on educating myself on how to get some pictures cut down to size to post here.  Little Man has taken some great ones of all his pets:  one dog, three cats, a tank full of various fish, and a wild-caught rough green snake.  Plan to get some of these and pics of his various home school activities/adventures up soon.

Response to Another Blogger on Home vs. Public School

Over at Tammy’s I ran across her response to a Transforming Life center blog post about homeschooling vs. public school.  Before I read her self-described “book length” response, I posted my own.  Like Tammy, I’m posting it here on my own blog, as well.  After reading Tammy’s post, I am reminded once again of the great wisdom and reasonableness of her point(s) of view. 

Hi there,

Thought I’d accept the invitation and weigh in with some of my own takes.

First, let me say that my family’s reasons for home schooling are many, though entirely secular in nature.  I don’t begrudge anyone’s religious reasons for home schooling; such motivations are as valid as any other IMHO. 

I want to address some of your “cons.”

1. “The cons I see are that I have never seen it done consistently or well.” 

By many measures this could just as well be said about the public school system.  Public education in my own state (SC) really depends on where you happen to live; something I suspect holds true across the nation.  In fact, we actually live in one of if the “best” districts in our state as was recently pointed out to me in a conversation on home schooling.  I responded by asking how “best” is defined.  In the main, it is typically defined as test scores, with modern facilities, teacher qualifications, and perhaps ratios of kids going to college and amounts of college scholarship money won also thrown in. 

There is enough there to write a thesis on in rebuttal, but the bottom line is I don’t view my son as a statistic.  Yet, in the end, that is all either he or any other kid is viewed as by the system:  just another test taker.  No time for curiosity, REAL world problem solving, risk taking and community service, they’ve got to get prepared for a test, a high stakes test that determines their worth, and the worth of those “qualified” teachers.  

2.”It may just be the people I know, but I see haggard moms whose children don’t have a set schedule of learning time.”

I don’t doubt that you do.  But, have you only learned during “learning time?”  When I look back on my own life, it has been the most important things that I’ve learned just when I least expected to, and, notably, often from whom I least expected to. 

By the way, take a close look at the typical public school teacher and see if the stress and fatigue isn’t quite evident on many a haggard face and body language.  My own son sadly related to me one day that he didn’t think his first grade teacher was very happy.  “Really? What makes you say that?”  “Well, she yells a lot, and slams the door a lot, too.”  He had no idea of her “qualifications” or how highly rated his school was.  This same teacher told me he was “lagging” in personal and social development, since he “still shares stories with me and his classmates about his imaginary playmates.”  The truth is imagination gets in the way of “structured learning time.”  So, she had to eliminate it (or at least try to get the elimination process started) so he could get prepared for the tests his future held in store.  I often wonder how many JK Rawlings have been forever lost to the world because some first grade teacher demanded they “grow up” and forget their “imaginary playmates,” since they had to get prepared for the “real world” and learn what was pre-decided as important.

3. “Honestly, I would never have been able to teach English. I hated it in school and I would project that feeling I would think.”

My first reaction to this sentence was, “Why did she hate English?”  Was it because you were forced to “learn” it?  Was it because you weren’t interested in whatever was chosen for you to read?  Was it because you hated diagramming sentences, writing paragraphs, doing book reports or taking spelling tests? 

A lot falls under the big subject “English.”  You obviously write very well and clearly enough to communicate well-articulated thoughts in written form.  Your grammar looks fine to me.  Perhaps if you tried to teach your child what you hated so much, particularly how you were taught, it would be impossible to not convey that sentiment.  However, I have no doubt you are capable of teaching her how to be thoughtful and to communicate thoughtful positions, ideas and questions.  But it does occur to me that your feelings toward English are essentially impossible to hide regardless of the fact you’re not home schooling.

4. “I wonder about socialization. I see some home school groups who get together and do field trips and I think that’s great but I feel sad about the things missed. I think passing notes in class, playing hopscotch at recess and boys chase the girls are things kids miss out on.”

Socialization is probably the biggest question I get in conversations about home school.  Of course, these questions only come from folks who have never met my son, and upon closer scrutiny usually not met any actual home schooled child.  That may not be the case with you, so I’m not putting you in that crowd. 

We are lucky to live in a neighborhood overflowing with kids, and they can’t wait to get off the school bus where they find my son dutifully waiting for them for all kinds of kid’s games throughout the rest of the day.  That is, until they have to leave for homework.   But something funny happened the other day.  My son was handed a note by his buddy.  It was from a kid that lives several blocks away.  A copy is tacked above my desk, and here’s what it said:

Congratulations!!! (across the top)

your house is now

the capitl (sic) of the ARMy

aginst (sic) the bulllys (sic).

________________________________________________________

              agreement

you _____________________________

            Jimmy (the note sender)

            Alex

            Tomes (I think this should be Thomas)

            Zach B.

            Aaron

            Hunter

            John

            Drue

            peyton

            Zach S.

Putting aside for the moment these fourth graders’ worries about bullies (Something that is not near as dismissible today as it once was.), my child may not be “passing notes,” but they’re getting passed to him.  Most folks who read that note laugh and say something such as, “Aw!  Isn’t that cute?!?”  Not even my sister, a fifth grade teacher of 15 years, recognized the underlying motivation/situation that surely exists and prompted such an idea that elected my son’s house (outside of his presence or knowledge) as a “capitl” presumably necessary for an ARMy for these kids’ protection; if not a real situation, certainly perceived, a distinction not really important in my view.  Perhaps, it’s a case of “see no evil, hear no evil…” 

When I bring up this possibility, I have been told that dealing with bullies is just part of growing up.  But given the fact that I have not dealt once with a bully in my adult life after school, what a waste of time, energy and emotion it is for children and the system to contend with.  And how unnecessary and unproductive this aspect of “socialization” can be, counterproductive even, like so many others, which actually work against the stated goals of public school.  So, when people tout the socialization benefits of school, I am compelled to point out the often selective and romanticized notions of it, which leave out things like bullying, cliques, peer pressure, etc….  In the end, IMHO it is public school socialization, that is socialization by strangers, and one has to take the good with the bad.  For some, I suppose, the good outweighs the bad.  For others, I’m sure, it is the opposite. 

For me and my family, the decision to home school has proved to be one of the best we have ever made.  And this realization is in the context of having done it both ways.  Unlike the slavery/drudgery of a government dictated schedule and curriculum, for us everyday is different, pressure and stress have been much reduced and even eliminated in many areas of life, and we feel more and more free all the time.  Above all, our son is free to grow and learn naturally at his own pace according to his own interests.  Any teacher, home school parent or “formally trained” will tell you real learning only exists in the context of interest.  Motivation springs from that same well; we are motivated by what interests us.  Unfortunately, I see too many kids forced to learn things and in ways that are dictated which have no relation to their individual interests, goals, desires, etc… 

I’ll cut it off here.  I hope this is received in the spirit it is intended, that is as an honest exchange/response of ideas.  Nothing derogatory is meant here toward anyone or their personal choice(s). 

Best regards,

Manning

Aka StayatHomeSchoolDad 

Monday 22 October 2007

Little Man was a little groggy getting up this morning, so I gave him an extra half hour.  Wouldn’t have known it by the “grump-bump” look I got as he headed into the shower.  Ten minutes later, however, he bounced into the kitchen, book in hand, looking for breakfast…

Had to cut his reading a little short today, since we had a commitment.  See, a couple of weeks ago I suggested that we volunteer at some local charity or organization, and Little Man was all for it.  I asked him for ideas, but all of his notions were really out of our league, not to mention our pocketbook.  No, I explained, charity “starts at home,” so let’s find something we can help out with right here in our community.  I already knew about an organization, “Helping Hands,” right here in our little city.  They primarily give elderly folks rides to doctors’ appointments, grocery stores, etc… though they also try to help people who are sick or disabled with little chores like meals or getting out the trash.  I tracked down the coordinator, Ms. Betty, a spry octogenarian just bursting with energy and enthusiasm.  She eagerly took our contact information and put us on the list.  Our first call came last Friday asking if we were available to give a ride to another elderly lady just around the corner on Monday.  No problem…

We picked up Mrs. M from in front of her daughter’s garage at 10:30 this morning.  I talked to her yesterday to confirm everything, but I saved her British accent as a surprise for Little Man.  He had already told me what a good idea he thought volunteering for Helping Hands was.  When I asked him why, he replied, “Well, we’ll be helping out people and we’ll also get to meet new people and get to know them.”  I could see his anticipation and eagerness to help almost bursting out as we got closer to her house.  I explained to him on the way that Mrs. M had had her shoulder recently replaced after some accident I was not privy to.  I surmised it was probably form a fall, since that is quite common for elderly people.  Little Man was a little impatient with me as I reminded him to stay close by Mrs. M in case she needed help, and to hold the door for her.  “I know, dad.  You forget, I’ve done this before for grandmother.”  I smiled as we pulled up alongside the drive.

Little Man was first out and I introduced him and myself.  As we started on our way, we started making small talk and learned she is from Nottingham, England.  Oh, yes, that’s in northern England, isn’t it?  “Yes,” she replied, turning slightly to my son in the backseat, “Have you heard of Robin Hood, young man?”  “Yes, ma’am.  I read his book!”  I asked if she had ever been to Sherwood Forest, and Little Man promptly corrected me, “You mean in Sherwood Forest, dad…”  “Reads a lot, does he?” asked Mrs. M.  We all laughed and before we knew it were pulling up to the physical therapy centre.  We took our time helping her inside agreeing to pick her up in an hour. 

We took off for the library just around the corner.  Little Man turned in his books on invertebrates and jellyfish in favor of four books today on the brain and nervous system.  Ever since “A Fantastic Voyage” last week, he’s wanting to get deeper into the human body.  He decided to start with the brain and move on to other organs.  That decision was made by him, but only after I pointed something out.  Originally, he had the idea of starting at his toes and moving up to the top of his head.  I said sure, no problem, and pointed out that moving in that direction the first organs he’d come across would be his reproductive ones.  I was actually anticipating our first in depth “birds and the bees” talk, thinking that would inevitably lead there, but he quickly changed his mind and informed his mother and me that he’d rather start with the brain first.  “Whatever you want,” I replied. 

So, reading over his library selections waiting for Mrs. M, Little man asked a very profound question.  “Dad, does the brain have a brain?”  “What do you mean?  I’m not sure I understand your question.”  “Well, if your brain controls everything and tells your body what to do, what tells your brain what to do?”  “You mean, what like when you forget to breathe or have to fart or something?”  “No, dad!! That stuff is automatic, I mean like when I open the door or something I do on purpose.”  “You mean you don’t fart on purpose?”  “Dad!!!”  “I know what you mean, I’m just kidding. I guess you’re asking about the mind, son.  I think it’s your mind that tells your brain what to do.  Like when you decide to read or go outside, it’s your mind that tells your brain what you want your body to do, and then the brain controls how you move and go about doing it at your mind’s discretion..the way you decide how to do it.” 

This exchange led to a brief explanation and engaging converstation of the “mind-body problem,” something I’ve read a little on and find fascinating.  I’m no expert on this or many other complex issues, but I’ve never shied from giving my son complex answers, even when I know some or even most of the information is over his head.  I seems so often his questions are truly complicated, and I’d feel like I cheated him trying to give a “simple” answer everytime.  I try to give him a simple synopsis beginning and ending a brief explanation, after we both agree on the question being posed, but I refuse to “dumb anything down” for him, question or answer.  This particular conversation opened the door to a discussion of “concrete” (body) and “abstract” (mind) concepts, and this was particularly relevant to his question.  He found it quite engrossing, and I could see the wheels turning as we talked. 

Dont’ you just love that ”far-away, thinking” look as they truly ponder something, something truly worth pondering?  I know I do…

Friday 19 October 2007

Little late getting this up…

Friday’s are very laid back days around here.  See, Little Man’s mom works nights, Monday thru Thursday.  So, we typically try to do something as a family on Friday afternoons, though it’s usually just errand running, grocery shopping, etc…  But it gets those things out of the way before the weekend…

Friday, however, we had a visit scheduled with a local gentleman who is an avid Civil
War memorabilia collector.  I met him a couple years back during a Civil War and Reconstruction course at Winthrop University.  A retired local attorney, Mr. K brought items for us students to see and touch and hold, everything from actual 145 year old hard tack and chewing tobacco to surgeons’ tools, saddle bags, swords and sewing kits carried by typical southern and/or northern soldiers.  It really helped add another demension to the class.  Anyway, mom came into possession of a couple of belt buckles we believe to date to or before Secession, so I tracked down Mr. K and asked for his help identifying them.  He graciously agreed, and invited all of us to drop by.

We stayed for two hours, and though we had trouble positively identifying the belt buckles, it was a grand time.  Little Man got to see everything from Confederate money to swords to buttons, hats, and pictures.  Too much stuff to remember.  You name it, Mr. K has it in a downstairs room built onto the back of his house.  All during the visit we heard the stories behind many of the items in Mr. K’s collection…real stories of real people connected to the real things we were holding in our hands. 

Little Man finished “Frankenstein.”  I think “The Legend of Sleepy Hollow” is up next, unless he’s planning on “The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde.”  These were the three he wanted to read during October, since they seemed by my descriptions to him as “Halloweeny.” 

Not much math Friday, or really any of anything else.  We stopped by the vegetable stand and drug store on the way home, and stayed up late watching “Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone” Friday night.

Thursday 18 October 2007

Little Man’s mom had surgery today.  A type of skin cancer called a basal cell carcinoma was removed from her right cheekbone.  Really interesting surgical procedure called the Moh’s procedure performed using a microscope to precisely remove the cancer and minimize scarring.  Our son wanted to stay and watch (like his dad did a couple of years ago when she had an actual melanoma removed from her leg), but the office shot that down.  Something about sterile conditions in the room.  Oh, well, if one doesn’t ask then the answer is always no.

So, after dropping her off we headed to the Levine Museum of the New South to check out what’s new since we were there last.  Last time we went it was to see an exhibit commemorating the 50th anniversary of Brown v. Board of Education.  A couple of hours well spent…my favorite was the “Rhythm and Roots” exhibit featuring various musical instruments.  It was really neat seeing so many home made musical instruments…guitars made from water cans, fiddles made out of old cigar boxes, drums made from oil drums…really creative stuff…  Little Man’s favorite was the “Comic Stripped” exhibit displaying a history of southern comic strips and discussing stereotypes, specifically southern stereotypes and their effect on how the south is seen and, interestingly, how the south sees itself.

Then we had a couple of street-stand hot-dogs in downtown Charlotte as we watched the busy world go by.  My son couldn’t stop talking, telling me all the differences and similarities between “Big City” Charlotte and New York City, which we were lucky enough to visit last November.  Some examples:  All the cabs in NYC were yellow, in Charlotte they come in all different colors.  NYC traffic was louder what with all the horn blowing.  He like the “street food” in NYC better than Charlotte’s lone hot-dog stand, but I liked the Charlotte prices better   More people in NYC, of course, and according to Little Man it smelled better, too. 

After a quick call to check on mom, we headed into the Mint Museum of Craft and Design.  This place was filled with all kinds of “modern” type stuff, that Little Man enjoyed exploring.  Very reminiscent of stuff he saw last year in NYC…  Anyway, visit cut a little short, since we got the call that mom would be done shortly, so we headed her way to pick mom up and take her for something to eat.

Turns out our call to check on her was a big hit in the operating room, and began a little conversation between mom and doc about homeschooling.  They teased her about how “wrong” it was that we were out having so much fun while she was stuck getting cut on.  As she related some of the conversation, our son remarks from the back seat, “Home school ROCKS!!”  Sure does…

No “Frankenstein” today, but he did practice some more cursive before we left.  And we “doubled” a few license plate numbers on the way.  We arrived home and he took off to play, home for dinner and we gave Lefty a bath…Two games of chess before bed… 

Going to try to get some pictures up tomorrow, since we are going to visit a local gentleman who has a HUGE collection of Civil War relics and memorabilia. 

Wednesday 17 October 2007

Field Trip!!!  More on that below…

Guess I need to get to this log a little earlier than I have been so far.  Seems this new habit has upset my wake/sleep schedule slightly as I slept in late again this morning.  Typically, I awake early and get some coffee before rousing my son.  Just like yesterday, though, I find him already up and out on the back porch with his nose buried in “Frankenstein.”  It occurs to me that maybe he’s liking getting up before me…  I really think he’s beginning to enjoy reading for pleasure.  It’s obviously no chore, and best of all it’s totally self-directed.  He picked the book, and he’s the one deciding to read it.  Who knows, maybe he just wants to get some reading in before I wake up and start bothering him…  Regardless, it is such a joy to watch him reading through the window.

For Math we are laying the foundation for multiplication.  Actually, that started at the beginning of this school year.  I haven’t been pushing it, just introducing little things and building his skills slowly. 

We started by learning to count by different multiples.  He already had counting by 2’s and 5’s down pat, and 10’s.  So, we started with the 3’s and 4’s–3,6,9,12,15….and 4,8,12,16…  First we drew the numbers on construction paper and colored them with grease pencils in all different colors and designs.  Then we cut them out and laminated two sets of each in order.  One set went into the bathroom and the other in his “favorite’s” box.  I think only the ones in the shower got any use, but over the last few weeks he has gotten them down pat.  This has helped him with “math facts,” but I think in a very substantial way deeper than simple rote memorization. 

Most importantly, he’s getting very comfortable with manipulating and using numbers, recognizing patterns and relationships.  Speaking of “math facts,” we’ve been working on those alot lately by simply playing cards.  Blackjack and Rummy are two great games for not only higher level thinking -planning, anticipation, plotting strategy, etc..-but math, as well.  However, we score Rummy by adding the actual number value of each card, rather than just five points for numbered cards.  Great way to combine fun and learning and enjoy company and conversation at the same time!!  Sure beats the hell out of just going over “math fact” worksheets over and over again without any “real” aplication.  It has worked wonders for Little Man in just a short time.  

For “real” multiplication we’ve started on the 2’s.  We call it “doubling,” and it’s proving very easy for him to grasp the concept, because it’s really just adding.  Of course, that’s exactly what multiplication is, but “doubling” seems to take the mystery out of it for him.  We paracticed doubling each number in the license plates we saw on cars on the way to and from the field trip today.  

Science today consisted of a vintage movie that arrived via Netflix in the mail yesterday.  “A Fantastic Voyage” from 1966 or so.  He’s a little too young to grasp the Cold War overtones inherent in the setting and plot, but he has certainly been eargerly anticipating the movie’s arrival.  In case you don’t know, the movie is a Sci-Fi that depicts several scientists aboard a submarine that is miniaturized to the microscopic level in order to be injected into the body of a soviet defector in order to perform surgery on a tumer in his brain, so he call spill the beans before he croaks.  The characters overcome several detours and hazards, including the host’s own immune system response, through various bodily systems and defeat an on-board sabateur on their “voyage” presumably to save the free world.  

The movie proved a big hit.  My son was enthralled, as evidenced by his turning down two invitations during the movie to come outside and play with his public school cohorts after they got off the bus.  (I think we’ll keep the movie for a couple of days and host a movie night at our house Saturday for his buddies.  This is one flick every school kid should see.)  Glued to the screen the entire movie, we had to pause several times while he talked about what we were seeing.  It was obvious his imagination was really cueing off the movie.  I can’t wait for our subsequent conversations.  But, I really can’t wait to take him to the Body Worlds Plastination exhibit at Discovery Place next week.  This movie was just to whett his appetite….

Last by certainly not least, Little Man asked for a field trip today, so we took off after breakfast to visit the birthplace of James K Polk (11th president of these United States) in nearby Pineville, NC.  Actually, this was his second trip to the small museum and restored log cabins; the first being when we first moved to the area five years ago.  He was only four at at the time, and he surprised me by describing what we were going to see.  Unfortunately, the cabins-a small house, detached kitchen and barn-were closed as the chinking was being replaced, so the trip was a little shorter than anticipated.  However, we’ll be going back on Nov. 3rd for a living history program that will include “an historic cooking demonstration, children’s games and other hands on activities.”  Come check it out from 11am-4pm that Saturday if you’re nearby.  Should be loads of fun.   

Tuesday 16 October 2007

Kind of laid back today.  No “formal math” but several hands of rummy, and joint time playing logic games at SuperKids.  Loads of fun, it was, especially our alternating games of checkers against the computer….

Little Man also practiced cursive, something he’s doing daily these days.  Skill and confidence are definitely improving, and he signed and addressed a birthday card to his aunt.  Put on the stamp with his mom while getting the low-down on how stamps make sure the post office gets paid for deliverying mail, and proudly took the envelope to the mailbox.

Typical mental math challenges throughout the day.  95% of the math we do these days is in his head, only putting “new” concepts to paper when they are brand new to him.  For awesome (I think) techniques, aids and overall GREAT math advice for students of all ages, check out some MathMojo. 

He decided on scary books this month of his own accord with “Frankenstein” being first up.  I slept a little late this morning, and awoke around 8:30 to find him already curled up under a blanket on the back porch busy reading.  I left him alone until he came in looking for breakfast, when we made hashbrowns and bacon.  Afterwards he got right back under the blanket outside and read for another hour. 

Watched a documentary about New Orleans and Katrina on LinkTV called Kamp Katrina.  It was a little mature for his age, but I kind of knew that going in.  When he asked me why “they don’t beep that stuff out,” I told Little Man that what we were seeing was real people in real situations, and the foul language was not simply gratuitous.  Had to explain that word to him, but I am glad we watched it.  He wants to go to New Orleans, and I’d sure love to take him one day.  Great conversation about the Katrina situation, people helping others who had lost their homes and jobs after an overnight storm, and the devestating effects of drug abuse/addiction along with the concept of withdrawals making addiction so hard to kick.  To my knowledge this was the first time he saw or learned about “crack babies” (one of the people depicted in the film gave birth 3 months prematurely to a crack-addicted boy).  I think that it made an impression. 

Home schooling: Essentially American

Our decision to embark on home schooling can be summed up in two words:  freedom and trust.   There are two aspects to freedom, a distinction few people I’ve run across know or care to make:  positive freedom and negative freedom.  Positive freedom is freedom “to.”  Negative freedom is freedom “from.”  These are important nuances, and America was actually founded on both, though the national myth taught in schools never mentioned that when I went through.     

Positive and negative freedoms are not mutually exclusive, though ever increasingly each is being curtailed.  Home schooling offers both, which is mainly why I find it so attractive.  We, as a family, and my son as an individual, are free to choose what we learn, and very importantly, how we learn, and most importantly at what pace we learn it.  We, and he, are not subject to someone else’s (read “the government’s”) ideas, mandates really, of what must be learned, and how, and at what pace.  This is the freedom “from” part.   

As my son experienced public school from kindergarten through the second grade, positive freedom for him in terms of his education was utterly non-existent.  I, unfortunately, just figured that’s “the way it is.”   I remember his kindergarten teacher who looked at me like I was from Mars when I asked about his vocabulary and verbal communication.  For twenty minutes I listened to her tell me about every area he was “deficient” in, and reminded that he had to learn to “keep his hands to himself.”  She had recently sent home a note to that effect, since he had a habit of holding a little girl’s hand during story time.  He and she had attended the same pre-school together and made fast friends never having been told that holding hands was inappropriate.  Anyway, his “deficiencies” were her major focus and concern.  I think that is next to impossible for a teacher to hide such emphasis from a student, especially in our current world of “no child left untested.”   

During a conference with his first grade teacher who informed me very matter-of-factly that he was lagging in his mental and social development, because he still shared stories with her and his classmates about “imaginary playmates.”  She was obviously impatient, even chagrined at my response that his imaginary play was something I actively encouraged and even enjoyed as a parent.  Come to think of it, I need to ask him how “Coco” is doing.  Last I heard she was “going to college in China,” but having some trouble with the “language barrier.”  I resisted relating my own son’s assessment of her.  “Dad, I don’t think Mrs. B is very happy.”  “Oh?  Why not,” I asked.  “Well, she yells a lot and slams the door a lot, too.” 

Second grade passed uneventfully, though the pull-out reading program he was involved in continued.  When my son and I ran up against a “drill-sergeant” third grade teacher who reacted to my request to see her lesson plan with incredulity, from whose class he came home crying daily for almost a month, I began looking at “the way things are” more critically. 

I asked myself a very familiar question that I have never shied from asking:  why?  Specifically, why does it have to be this way?  This led to very serious questions, much research, thought and reflection, and not very pretty answers.   Why are our children measured against standards?  Why do we have a system that classifies children as if they are merely statistics, scientific experiments, or widgets coming off an assembly line?  Are not children individuals?  The answers are not easy to find, and certainly not easy to accept.  But my intellectual integrity prevents me from simply brushing them aside.  And the fact is that the standardized, one-size-fits-all, top-down dictates of public education in our country are not designed for the benefit of children, but rather the benefit of the corporatocracy that bought and paid for our government long before anyone reading this was born.   

My critique is not necessarily directed at teachers, though there are many that are, quite frankly, in the wrong line of work.  Teachers, after all, only do what, supposedly, everyone has to do.  Namely, what their employers tell them to do.  I do realize that teachers, though many are doing the best they can, are frankly as trapped as my son was, without the freedom to do things differently than what is dictated “from the top,”  any good sense, or lack of results, notwithstanding.  Teachers are not free from the onerous intrusion of administrative (read governmental) dictates that decide what they will teach, when and how they will teach it. 

Aside from precious freedom, which far too few students in our system can believably claim, trust is fundamental to the home schooling decision/experience.  America’s founders understood who could better be trusted:  individuals, specifically free individuals.  (Of course, they were duplicitous in who they defined as free.  Yet it is interesting to note that none of those left out of their plan, women, Native Americans, Africans and their descendents, non-property owners, trusted government, government of any stripe.  Who could blame them?  It was, by and large, governments that denied them their freedom.)  All tensions and contradictions aside, the founders did design a system of government intended to ensure individuals could not only be free to do as they desired, but also be free from government interference, government mandates on what they would do, when, where, how, and for how long.   None of our founders were products of public schools.  They did not exist at that time.  Besides, the very concept to them would have been obviously antithetical to what they stood for and what they were trying to accomplish.  Such is painfully obvious to me, anyway, and I’ve read and studied an awful lot of what they left behind.  So, if the founders of America were able to place trust in me, then I can surely trust myself, and my son, no?  And there is no one, no teacher, principal or public education bureaucrat that can come close to the level of trust I have in me and my family.  In fact, Jefferson, Madison, Washington, Franklin, et al would consider me or anyone else a fool for trusting government.  And they would be right, if I did. 

Reading over the above it occurs to me that home schooling is essentially a very American undertaking; freedom and trust, as embodied in the American ideal, at its very core.

Cotton Picking and Cow Hunting…

Yesterday, my son and I drove out to the country vet to have stitches removed from our Black Lab’s ear.  “Lefty” developed a hematoma a couple of weeks ago from either shaking his head or scratching too hard.  It required surgery to drain and repair, else we risked him developing an ugly “cauliflower ear.”  Anyway, we use a rural vet that has a thriving practice treating all types of farm and household animals, and his rates are reasonable.  It’s about 30 miles from the house, but the drive is a nice one.

My son is extremely interested in all things animal.  When we first took Lefty in he asked if he could stay and watch the surgery.  The vet, a really nice lady, graciously told us we were welcome to do so, but she wouldn’t be performing the surgery until late in the day.  Since, we really didn’t want to hang around for 5 hours, we took a raincheck and plan on returning one day in the next week or two to witness first hand how animal surgeries are performed.  This sounds like it will be loads of fun.  We are both looking forward to it.  He for the experience of watching a real, live surgery, and me for the experience of watching him take it all in.  What a field trip that will be, eh?!?

Back to yesterday.  The road leading to the vet is lined on both sides with gently rolling cotton fields currently in different stages of harvest.  Can anyone smell a history lesson here?  Yes, we live in the South, and cotton used to be king of the cash crops.  Of course, none of the cash it garnered ended up in any of the hands of those unfortunate Africans and their descendents who actually produced it. 

After leaving the vet’s, my son and I pulled over and found ourselves trespassing several rows inside of one of the cotton fields exploring in real life, real time.  We picked a few unopened bolls along with a few purplish flowers.  It was easy for him to see, touch, smell and make the connections to his personal life amongst so many rolling acres of fluffy white 30 miles from his suburban neighborhood.  He quickly started giving me examples of what we get from cotton, beginning with everything he was wearing save his shoes.  “Look, Dad, there’s goes a harvester,” he said as he pointed at a truck pulling what indeed looked like a harvestor to me drive slowly by.  We waved.  The driver waved back, no doubt wondering who and what the heck we were doing.  

After the man with the harvester passed I picked an opened boll of cotton and handed it to my son.  “Can you imagine,” I asked, ” after plowing this field behind a mule all day,  planting it behind that same mule, keeping the weeds hacked down all summer, then having to bend over in this field all day with a basket over your shoulder picking this stuff by hand?  Can you say ’HARD WORK?!’” 

He listened intently staring off into the distance across the field as I imagined outloud what it must have been like to plow a field like this behind a stinking, sweating mule all day in the blazing southern sun and humidity.  Perhaps even this very field.  Would be one thing to volunteer for such work, quite another to be forced into it from about his own age if not earlier, I surmised.  He nodded in agreement, the wheels turning.  Our unusually hot day yesterday (over 90 degrees) helped drive the point home in a way I think would be impossible inside an airconditioned classroom looking at pictures in a book.  

“And that would just be the beginning.  Before the cotton gin, slaves had to seperate the seeds from the cotton by hand.  Try getting the seeds out of this boll of cotton.”

My son was attempting to do so when I looked over his head behind him to a really strange sight.  Thinking of it now, it shouldn’t have seemed all that out of place, we were out in the country after all.  ‘Twas a cow walking by the end of the field on the side of the road.  That’s what was strange, just walking down the road like you or I would be doing.  “Wow!” got my son’s attention, and he looked up in the direction I was pointing.  “Come on, that cow has gotten out of it’s pasture.  Let’s go check it out up close.”

So, we ran back to the car and took off after what my son informed me was actually a bull given the enormous horns we could see bobbing lazily over the tops of the cotton plants.  I had to agree, though we learned different a few minutes later.

When we turned the corner we both started laughing.  It was indeed a “bull” walking slowly beside the road (just like you or I would be doing except on four legs) between it and a small ditch with woods on the other side of that.  As we approached the laughing stopped as my son was the first to notice and pointed out the blood on the bovine’s rump.  We quickly noticed a laceration in its side, too.  But as we pulled up alongside, the beast was oblivious to the two dudes in the car just feet away.  I yelled out, and the cow stopped, turned and looked at us.  I was struck by how big its eyes were.  We both noticed blood on the side of its face just under the right eye.  The animal blinked and turned around, crossed the ditch and entered the woods. 

I figured the bull must have been hit by a car or something, and told my son to hand me the phone.  He did so and read me the vet’s number from the receipt laying on the floor. 

The girl who answered the phone must have thought we were crazy, calling her to report a bull walking down the road out in the middle of a bunch of farms.  But I explained it was outside of any fence and obviously hurt and bleeding.  She put me on hold and came back almost immediately.  “It’s okay, Glenn is heading that way.”  “Is Glenn the owner?”  “No, he’s one of the vets here.”  “Okay, I’ll stay here and show him where the bull went into the woods.”

A minute later two trucks, one pulling a large trailer, converged on our position from opposite directions.  I recognized Glenn from the vet’s and began hurriedly explaning the bull we saw walking beside the road.  “It was bleeding?”  “Yeah, from its rump, its side and under its eye.  Looks like it got hit by a car or something.”  “That was a cow.  It belongs to him. (Motioning toward the other man who was parking his truck behind us.)  He brought it in this morning to get checked out.  It fell out of his trailer on his way home.”  “Oh, no…” 

It isn’t everyday one gets the chance to help look for a cow, a poor wounded one at that.  I quickly asked if they’d like our help in finding it.  The offer was accepted…forty foot of thick rope was put into my hand.

So, that’s how my son and I left the house for a routine visit to the vet, stopped in a hot cotton field for him to explore and listen to some history, and ended up cow hunting (“hunting” in terms of simply looking for it, that is).

I wish I could say all of this led to a happy ending, but things instead ended rather anticlimactically. 

My son excitedly showed them where the bull entered the woods, and he immediately pointed out a splotch of blood on the ground.  The vet informed us that it was, in fact, a cow that our other companion had brought in to get checked as he was hoping she was pregnant.  Evidently, he surmised, she had had enough of being “handled,” and after having fallen out of its trailer was in no mood for any more company of humans.  Hence, her disappearing into the woods when we approached.  We followed her tracks and diminishing blood trail for a hundred yards or so into the woods until we lost all evidence of her direction.  We kept going for another hundred yards or so, looking for any sign of her movements, her owner calling out a high pitched “Whhooooo!!” every minute or two.

We never found her, and as of this writing the vet has not heard or seen anything.  He remains confident she’ll show up in or near someone else’s field and he’ll get a call.  “Only so far she can go, and in any direction she’ll find other cows.”  “Think she’ll be alright?”  “Well, I didn’t see her and there wasn’t really much blood.  She was walking okay, and alert enough to get away from us, so yes, I think she’ll turn up.”

If she does or doesn’t, I gotta believe that’s one Monday morning experience my son will never forget.  I know I won’t! 

Moral?  Well, for one, you can’t judge a bull by her horns.  Expect the unexpected:  sometimes it can be fun.  And sometimes in life you’ve got to deal with not knowing what eventually happens.

Made possible by Serendipity…and our decision to homeschool….