Sunday, July 24, 2005
The A-Ha! Moment
I knew well before I actually had children that I would want to educate them at home. What I didn't know, though, and couldn't figure out was how. My first exposures to the meta-topic of homeschooling were in the form of Grace Llewellyn's work - compelling to be sure, but not quite what I had in mind.
Despairing over what I saw as my fellow students' inability to construct (or deconstruct, for that matter) a sentence, read and understand a simple paragraph, challenge statistics and studies meant to influence their thinking or - let's be frank - even parrot the simplest facts (the approximate dates of the U.S. Civil War, to what the Bill of Rights refers, where and what Nagasaki and Hiroshima are, for example)let alone why those facts are important, I simply could not and cannot wrap my mind around Llewewllyn's educational philosophy. I couldn't understand the rejection of the idea of a Canon, a body of knowledge deemed desirable for all to posses.
For years I brooded and half designed my own curriculum, not realizing the breadth and depth of the homeschooling materials market. I simply had no idea that somewhere out there others were thinking the same thoughts as I and developing a response.
Classical Education. Elegant, rigorous, thorough and precisely what I had looked for in a decade of searching.
In 2004 I read a scathing review of The Well-Trained Mind (Wise, Jessie. New York: Norton, 1999), a review that expressed more the author's attachment to the dogma of unschooling and personal dislike of Jessie Wise and Susan Wise Bauer. Funny thing, though, is that the review's enumerated problems with The Well-Trained Mind led me to seek it out - they expect children to read! science! we don't need to stinkin' science! math? since when did anyone really need geometry, anyway? And literature? Please. No one's ever needed Canterbury Tales to get a phone line installed.
I knew within seconds of reading thatreview rant that The Well-Trained Mind was without question the right approach for our family. And we've never looked back.
Despairing over what I saw as my fellow students' inability to construct (or deconstruct, for that matter) a sentence, read and understand a simple paragraph, challenge statistics and studies meant to influence their thinking or - let's be frank - even parrot the simplest facts (the approximate dates of the U.S. Civil War, to what the Bill of Rights refers, where and what Nagasaki and Hiroshima are, for example)let alone why those facts are important, I simply could not and cannot wrap my mind around Llewewllyn's educational philosophy. I couldn't understand the rejection of the idea of a Canon, a body of knowledge deemed desirable for all to posses.
For years I brooded and half designed my own curriculum, not realizing the breadth and depth of the homeschooling materials market. I simply had no idea that somewhere out there others were thinking the same thoughts as I and developing a response.
Classical Education. Elegant, rigorous, thorough and precisely what I had looked for in a decade of searching.
In 2004 I read a scathing review of The Well-Trained Mind (Wise, Jessie. New York: Norton, 1999), a review that expressed more the author's attachment to the dogma of unschooling and personal dislike of Jessie Wise and Susan Wise Bauer. Funny thing, though, is that the review's enumerated problems with The Well-Trained Mind led me to seek it out - they expect children to read! science! we don't need to stinkin' science! math? since when did anyone really need geometry, anyway? And literature? Please. No one's ever needed Canterbury Tales to get a phone line installed.
I knew within seconds of reading that
Friday, July 22, 2005
I'm going to Mommy school. We do activities.
So the Boy Wonder explains his presence on every playground and in every museum in town. He's not yet five and won't be until the end of September, just three days before the cut-off for our school district's kindergarten registration, but already people are very curious about his educational plans. It seems very important to a lot of people that he agree that he is ready and raring to report to the newish elementary school that he would be assigned to attend.
Most people, upon hearing that he won't be on the bus on whatever morning school is scheduled to start, assume that we are red-shirting him for competitive reasons, that we're taking advantage of his late birthday to assure him a dominant spot in the kindergarten hierarchy next fall. Wink, wink, nudge, nudge...how nice for him when he's the biggest kid and the most advanced.
The truth is far less Machiavalian and lies closer to the fact that we were unable to schedule a tour for this particular school until after the registration date. "How will I know that yours is the right school for my son," I asked, "unless I've seen it and talked to some people?"
"We'll just assume he'll be getting off the bus come August," said the pleasant woman who wouldn't give me her name.
No. Not in this lifetime, I said. So my husband and I badgered our way into a tour, conducted by a woman who would not share her last name and would not tell us her position within the school. We were not allowed to meet any of the kindergarten teachers nor would the principal or vice-principal make themselves available until after the start of the school year for questions.
And so the Boy Wonder is attending Mommy school. And we do activities.
Most people, upon hearing that he won't be on the bus on whatever morning school is scheduled to start, assume that we are red-shirting him for competitive reasons, that we're taking advantage of his late birthday to assure him a dominant spot in the kindergarten hierarchy next fall. Wink, wink, nudge, nudge...how nice for him when he's the biggest kid and the most advanced.
The truth is far less Machiavalian and lies closer to the fact that we were unable to schedule a tour for this particular school until after the registration date. "How will I know that yours is the right school for my son," I asked, "unless I've seen it and talked to some people?"
"We'll just assume he'll be getting off the bus come August," said the pleasant woman who wouldn't give me her name.
No. Not in this lifetime, I said. So my husband and I badgered our way into a tour, conducted by a woman who would not share her last name and would not tell us her position within the school. We were not allowed to meet any of the kindergarten teachers nor would the principal or vice-principal make themselves available until after the start of the school year for questions.
And so the Boy Wonder is attending Mommy school. And we do activities.
Tuesday, July 19, 2005
Now then, let's get started
According to Guilt-Free Homeschooling I am the Mr. Potato Head of homeschooling:
You have your ideal of how things should look, but youre flexible enough to allow
for change. You are not bothered by changing methods, mid-course if necessary. You use an eclectic combination of curriculum sources.
You have your ideal of how things should look, but youre flexible enough to allow
for change. You are not bothered by changing methods, mid-course if necessary. You use an eclectic combination of curriculum sources.
What Type of Homeschooler Are You?
brought to you by Quizilla
Interesting. And here all this time I thought I was a pretty dogmatic, Type-A, over-achieving, big thoughts thinking kind of girl. Well, this ought to be interesting.
