Now we’re home, however, and the frenzy of school year prep and buying has begun. Shortly before we left for our trip, we ordered a subscription to the PLATO Life Science and Earth/Space Science courses for Captain Science. I’m glad to have science taken care of, as that is the one area where I worry about finding comprehensive materials that are secular/scientific enough for our needs. I ordered these courses at Patchfire’s recommendations, so Captain Science and Eclectic Girl will still be right about apace with their science, which means we could still get together to do a little work occasionally.

Another area I’ve stressed over is that of extracurricular activities, especially art. Daddyman really wanted to start doing some computer programming with Captain Science this year, too. We really lucked out by making it home just in time to take advantage of the last minute deal on the KidCoder computer programming curriculum through the Homeschool Buyers Co-op. We’re also picking up the Meet the Masters series for both boys. We’re probably getting bundle 4, which includes Tracks A, B, and C for ages 5-7. Even though Captain Science is well above that age level, he has had almost no formal art instruction, so I think he’d be best served by starting with something very simple. If he enjoys it and needs a higher level, we’ll pick up the bundle for his age group, too. We’ll have access to the course for three full years, since each track is supposed to take about a school year.

We still have to place our order for Life of Fred: Beginning Algebra and Fred’s Home Companion, as well as Captain Science’s Michael Clay Thompson materials for the year and Tank’s Ordinary Parent’s Guide to Teaching Reading materials. We’re also starting a new organization system to help us stay on top of our materials, using a folder system similar to the one Daddyman uses for organizing his own paperwork.

I’m starting to get so excited about the next school year! How’s your planning/prep going?

You can view the scanned page here or at ScienceBlogs, but here’s the text:

Electricity is a mystery. No one has ever observed it or heard it or felt it. We can see and feel and hear only what electricity does. We know that it makes light bulbs shine and irons heat up and telephones ring. But we cannot say what electricity itself is like.

We cannot even say where electricity comes from. Some scientists say that the sun may be the source of most electricity. Other think that the movement of the Earth produces some of it. All anyone knows is that electricity seems to be everywhere and that there are many ways to bring it forth.

How would you have to change the way you get ready for school if you did not use electricity?

“The voice of thy thunder was in the heaven: the lightnings lightened the world: the earth trembled and shook.” Psalm 77:18

Ok, what in the happy crap is that? I’ll tell you what it’s not: Science.

Did the person who wrote that book ever read an actual science text? Do they actually know anything about electricity? Have they ever even bothered to look up electricity on Wikipedia? We do, in fact, know what electricity is and where it comes from. It’s generated by a myriad sources. It isn’t, as Pharyngula points out, “something like oil, a substance lying in large deposits that must be harvested and poured into your hairdryer to make it work,” as the BJU text’s author seems to think.

Obviously, BJU’s presentation of things like the origin of life and changes in species is going to be significantly different from that of secular science. While I think their presentation is based on an entirely non-scientific premise, I acknowledge that said premise is going to lead to a certain way of presenting certain topics. Fine. I won’t teach that to my kids, but if you think people lived with dinosaurs and the earth is only 6000 years old, you feel free to teach that to your kids.

There is NO excuse, however, for completely misrepresenting topics like electricity. Really, how is explaining about particles and currents not compatible with creationism? Can someone explain that to me? Does electricity have to be dumbed down and falsified and just…just…stupid-ized purely for the sake of making it different from secular science? What is the purpose here?

I’m absolutely baffled, is what I am. Can’t you teach your children a creationist viewpoint without screwing up the rest of science? DO you have to distill it down to something, as Pharyngula points out, worthy of the Insane Clown Posse [if you aren't familiar with ICP, please be warned, anything related to this band contains EXPLICIT LANGUAGE]?

I just find it hard to believe that Christian homeschoolers really want their children to be dumber than a Juggalo. Why would they tolerate this insulting level of pseudoscience?

All the information on Captain Science that I could possibly require, that is.

Captain Science isn’t the only one who started homeschooling this year. This year, as my blog subtitle indicates, has also been an educational process for me. No one requires any sort of report on what I’ve learned, but that doesn’t mean I shouldn’t take the time to assess it. So, what has Smrt Mama McLernins learned about homeschooling (and herself) this year? What did I learn about being a secular classical homeschooler?

1. Color-coded schedules: what works and what doesn’t. Our color-coded schedule was a great idea in theory, but didn’t work out so well in execution. Too tightly scheduled, not enough time for transitions, and not enough flexibility for Captain Science. He needs more control over his order of activities. Next year’s schedule will still be time-blocked, because that really does help us get through our day in a timely manner, but it will be color coded into “core subjects,” “electives,” etc. and Captain Science will be able to choose the order in which he does his work, and more transitional time will be provided. For example, on Mondays we’d have three one-hour blocks for “school work,” separated by 15 minute breaks, followed by a half-hour lunch, another one hour block of work, then piano. Tank’s schedule would be broken up more and be in shorter blocks, with synced lunches.

2. We had an unacceptable dearth of hands-on stuff. We did so little of this and I really regret that. Projects, crafts, etc. need to be pre-planned and scheduled into our week. Other than writing samples, we have very little to physically show for our school year. No fridge art, no dioramas or whatever to display. This simply will not fly, especially next year, when my artsy little Tank is homeschooling with us. We need specifically blocked-out times for arts and crafts and we need to integrate a physical component into our history lessons. I don’t think we need to make sugar cube pyramids or anything like that, but we do need to find some more hands-on methods of doing lessons.

3. Captain Science owns his work, not me. I am one damn impatient woman. Impatient for Captain Science to get through his work quickly, impatient for him to do it the right way the first time, impatient for him to put in maximum effort rather than half-assing it. On Dawdlin’ Days, it’s all I can do to not just scream “OH MY GOD, just finish your dang WORK already!” at him, whilst running around and tearing at my hair and possibly taking up chain smoking. Ultimately, I’m not the one who controls how quickly he finishes the work. I’m not the one who controls how well he finishes the work. I can set time limits and repercussions for violating those limits. I can set standards for the work and have him redo it when he doesn’t meet those standards. At the end of the day, though, I can’t make him do something in a timely manner or with a high level of quality…or at all. Deep breath. Release. Provide guidance. Provide boundaries. Provide repercussions. Trust him.

4. Broad but shallow or narrow but deep? Did we spend too little time on each of too many subjects at a time? Did we spend too much time on too few subjects? Officer Daddyman and I have discussed this and in looking back over the past year, I see that we had periods of both. We started out with too much focus on history. It dominated our day, our life, our house! While classical homeschooling is typically history-centric, we were sacrificing other subjects just to drag out history. We also had a point where we were trying to cover 6+ subjects in a day, which meant that we couldn’t put any quality time into each subject. One way we dealt with this was by streamlining the subjects. For example, instead of three or four small language arts segments covering different things (grammar, vocabulary, writing), we switched to Michael Clay Thompson’s language arts curriculum, which integrated or coordinated those areas.

5. What’s popular isn’t always right, but it sometimes is. I probably won’t be buying into Sonlight or Math U See any time soon, no matter how many people sing their praises, but I wish I’d listened to the other parents on the advanced learner/gifted forum sooner. I know that I initially scoffed at how everyone was jumping on board the MCT train…oh, aren’t they trendy? Then I saw a video of Mr. Thompson talking about giftedness and why/how it should be nurtured, and I realized that his curriculum wasn’t popular because it was trendy, but because he had really clued in to some essential elements of giftedness. What other curricula have I dismissed due to its popularity that, in retrospect, I might discover could be a great fit for us. I won’t let a curriculum’s popularity/trendiness keep me from checking it out.

6. Friends in unlikely places. I thought that I’d find my home in the secular homeschooling community. As my many posts about feeling alienated or out of place would indicate, this wasn’t the case. I did, to my surprise, find some wonderful friends in the Christian homeschooling community. Despite vast differences in our personal lives, our specific academic materials, and our spiritual/philosophical beliefs, the many things we do share has given me a true sense of community. I also thought that it would be in the academic homeschooling community that I’d make my friends, but I could several unschoolers among the ranks of my Sisters in Homeschooling. I can’t even list all the wonderful (mostly) women (and a few men) I have encountered in the homeschool community…from all walks of life. In the end, it’s hasn’t been about secular or Christian, classical or unschooling, but about commonality of humor, respect for each other and our children, and a belief that we each want to do what is best for our children. If we don’t have humor as parents and homeschoolers, what do we have?

7. It’s ok to quit the stuff that isn’t working (before you hit crisis/loathing stage). A curriculum isn’t a marriage, right? I’ve had to learn and relearn this one. In October, I wrote about how much we loved Writing Strands and by January, I was writing about how much I disliked it. How many months of that time in between did I force us to keep on with an increasingly incompatible curriculum? I don’t know for sure, but next year, I will give myself permission to quite before I have to write a big dramatic post about how much I hate said curriculum. I promise. This time, I really will.

8. I don’t totally suck at this. Captain Science learned a lot this year. I learned a lot this year. We still like each other. Daddyman and I still like each other. The world hasn’t collapsed, the house hasn’t burned down, and I haven’t had a nervous breakdown. We not only can do this, we ARE doing this! We’re really, truly homeschoolers…and we’re doing just fine.

* * *

Who am I?

Who am I, to tell you what you can and can’t teach your child?

Who am I, to tell you that you must teach things that I believe in or be forbidden to teach?

Who am I, to tell you that because I am a secular homeschooler, that you must educate your children secularly or be forbidden to teach?

Who am I, to tell you that because I am a classical homeschooler, that you must educate your children classically or be forbidden to teach?

Who am I, to tell you not to impart your religious, moral, ethical, ideological, etc. beliefs to your child?

Who am I, to tell you to lie to your child and tell them that what you believe to be true isn’t true (whether or not I think it’s true)?

Who am I, to tell you that you must teach all values and all beliefs to be equal, whether you believe them to be or not?

Who am I, to tell you that what you teach must be regulated carefully, because you might teach the “wrong” thing?

Who am I, to tell you that what you teach must be regulated carefully, because someone else might teach the “wrong” thing?

Who am I, to legislate for everyone what is the “wrong” and what is the “right” thing?

Who am I, to legislate morality?

Who am I, to legislate belief?

Who am I?

Here’s a hint, I’m not Jean Valjean.

Teaching Tolerance explains the need for such a curriculum:

Students often learn the importance of respecting people of different religions, and of respecting religious beliefs that are different from their own. But what about people who do not hold religious beliefs at all? Too often the right not to believe is excluded from lessons about tolerance.

Yet atheists and others who do not believe in God experience discrimination because of their nonbelief. In this lesson, students learn about episodes of anti-atheist discrimination; and they develop ways to educate others about respecting nonreligious, as well as religious, diversity.

I couldn’t agree more! I’ve seen a fairly high level of expectation of tolerance of their religious views from Christian homeschoolers, but don’t often see the same level of tolerance extended by them towards the beliefs non-religious homeschoolers among us. I think of that absurd “don’t call it ‘Christian mythology’” nonsense from a while back, as one example. The non-religious are expected to treat religious text as sacred and factual, out of “respect” for the Christian homeschoolers…who don’t seem to realize that they’re treating the non-religious homeschoolers with the same level of disrespect they believe they’re being shown.

An interesting read and could be helpful for understanding how to respectfully discourse w/ the homeschooling nonbeliever.

With each book Captain Science completed, I experience a deep sense of satisfaction and accomplishment. It’s not just about another check-marked box on a list (though it’s a little bit about that, as well), but about knowing that we’ve done a subject from beginning to end, that we’ve truly completed the first year of homeschooling (rather than just futzing around until we hit day 180). Making it to the end of the year with something still unfinished, unless it was specifically scheduled to be unfinished, would feel–perhaps unreasonably–like a small failure. I set goals and I want them completed.

Every day is a race. Life of Fred: Decimals and Percents, we manage to put to bed a couple of months ago, pulling it out for review and working on math concepts independently of curricula in the interim. Captain Science finally finished Paragraph Town last week, though he has gone back and redone a couple of lessons in that. Our brain class with Patchfire is completely. The only thing left in the writing class is making corrections to the drafts and mailing them off for submission. Game class has become more of a game club, without a need for an end-date.

Now, we’re chugging along with Building Poems, trying to wrap that up. Ideally, the only book that we will carry with us through the summer is Caesar’s English I, which I never intended us to finish by the end of the year. Far too many lessons for that, no matter how fast Captain Science seems to be zooming through it. This will keep the vocabulary fresh in his head for starting Latin (and Caesar’s English II) in the fall.

Ten days, five of which will not be managed by me, as I leave the boys in the capable hands of Officer Daddyman and the Nana, whilst I jet off to Chicago to doula for my best friend’s first birth. Five more academic days in which to wrap it all up and put it to bed for the school year. I don’t feel ready for this! This year has been such an adventure and a challenge.

Surely I’m not the only one with a deep seated need to have everything neatly wrapped up by the end of the year. How does it work for y’all? Do you leave curricula hanging to next school year? Not finish the school year until everything is finished? Do tell, do tell!

Most of you regular Smrt Mama readers don’t know me, so let me first introduce myself. I’m the Mama, mother of three children: Sweet Pea, 6, Little Bird, almost 3, and Moose, 7 weeks. My elder two are girls and the baby is our first boy.

I live in the northern part of Minnesota in a little town that isn’t near very much. Except woods. Remember reading Little House in the Big Woods where Laura Ingalls Wilder talks about woods that go for days without end? It’s like that, only not in Wisconsin. Anyway, besides the children which quasi-qualify me to blather on about homeschooling, I am part of a family that fits neatly into the religious category: I’m married to a conservative pastor, we lead a pretty traditional family life, we dress modestly, and we teach religion as part of our day. I’m probably the stereotype that you now can picture in your mind! Smrt Mama told me that it’d be interesting to see how religious homeschoolers view the others–the seculars. I decided to take it upon myself to speak for a diverse, divergent community, so here it goes!*

Social graces

Since the most common question homeschoolers seem to get pounded with by others is about the s-word (socialization, or the lack thereof) I thought I’d start with how we religious folk view this. You may have noticed the plethora of religious homeschooling groups and co-ops, many of which require a member to sign a belief statement to get into the club. Why? Why keep out people who don’t agree? There’s some differing viewpoints here, and I’ll try to hit on those that come to mind:

Book Learning

When it comes to science, there are three main groups: Those who believe the world was created in about a week, roughly 6,000 years ago, those who believe evolution and creation co-exist in intelligent design, and those who believed this all evolved over a massive amount of time. There’s even debate, from all sides, if all of these views are science, so it’s no surprise that this is an area that there’s some big disagreements. Most religious homeschoolers kind of shake their heads at secular science and how prevalent it is. Some even have apologetics–defense of the faith–as a part of science class or its own subject.

Relaxation and rigor: it’s probably untrue, but there’s a big feeling that some seculars are way too loosey goosey with academics. And that eventually this’ll negatively impact homeschooling for everybody.

The Future

Goods news, though: despite the worries about your kids cohabiting and living free and easy, I do think most religious homeschoolers think secularly homeschooled kids will shake out better then their publically schooled peers.

I will say that most of my current homeschool chattering is with secular folks who’ve chosen a similar academic path for their schooling. By circumstance, most of my friends are of a reiligious bent similar to my own. I think both groups could have a lot to share…if we could all just play nice in the sand box. And, you know, do things my way.

*I know there are religious homeschoolers who share none of my viewpoints or are deeply offended by my sentiments here. To you: I am deeply, sincerely sorry!

When I had to get up at 6:15 to get Captain Science off to school in a timely fashion and received a backpack full of reminder notes every day, life was quite different for us than it is now. More predictability. More routine. That’s not to say that we don’t have a routine now, but it’s different each day of the week, as we have co-op on Tuesdays, science at Patchfire’s house on Thursday, piano lessons two days, things here and things there. It’s not 7:45 to 2:15 every Monday through Friday. It’s not on someone else’s time.

This sort of nonreliance on the schedule of others is wonderful in almost every aspect, save one…we’re totally, completely responsible for keeping track of stuff for ourselves! That means that, sometimes, things just don’t get done. We don’t think about them. We don’t remember them. Here are some examples:

1. Picture Day. There is no official homeschool picture day. As a result, Captain Science is almost through with his 4th grade year and has not had formal pictures made. We keep saying we’re going to get them done, but that just hasn’t happened.

2. Hair cuts. Without planned picture days and school field trips, for which I didn’t want my child to look like he was being raised by stewbums, hair cuts tend to fall by the wayside. I wasn’t the best about scheduling them regularly as it was, but at least three times a school year (for first day of school, fall pictures, and spring pictures), Captain Science got a really nice hair cut. Once we got that “picture day is coming” notice, we’d schedule the hair cut. Now, it’s more like Officer Daddyman spends weeks complaining about Captain Science and Tank’s ever-growing hair, I swear I’ll make an appointment to have it done, Daddyman gets frustrated and just takes the boys to his barber, at which point I complain about their hair being too short. OH THE JOYS OF HOMESCHOOLING!

3. Watching what we say. If the boys were in full time public school, I think I’d watch my mouth a little more carefully. Since they’re home so much, I have developed an unfortunate tendency to just say the things I’d normally have saved for times I wasn’t in their presence. My worst offense is, “So’s your face,” which my brother says is the appropriate response to absolutely everything (and the response to “So’s your face” is “Your mom”). Captain Science will announce, “Mama, I’m done with math,” and I’ll say, “Oh yeah? Well, so’s your face!” Captain Science will say, “So’s your mom,” and Tank, who is the classiest among us, yells, “So’s your BUTT.” I know I should correct it, simply because it’s not socially acceptable for my kids to say that, but it’s not like they’re going off to school and saying it to their teachers, right?

4. All that important non-curriculum stuff that kids still need to learn. Did you know that you were supposed to make sure your kids memorized their address? I know I totally didn’t think about it until Patchfire told me Eclectic Girl was six before they realized that she didn’t know her address. Oops! Public schooled kids get it drilled into them in kindergarten, but our homeschooled children are going to grow up with no clue as to where they live. Someone needs to put together a checklist of non-curriculum stuff that our kids need to learn. That list will also include how to spell their last name, their parents’ names, and their phone number.

5. Cops and firemen. Unless you’re luck enough to have an Officer Daddyman in the house, your kids may be missing out on the awesome public school experience of fire fighters and law enforcement officers coming out to the school to teach your kids about safety and how to dial 911 while mama and daddy are sleeping late (they say that’s not what they’re doing, but you KNOW that’s what they’re doing). There’s always the option of trying to get your co-op in to the fire station, I suppose.

6. Fire drills. You should be having these for your family anyway, but I bet you don’t. I know I don’t. At school, your kids would be having fire drills. They’d learn to “stay low and go” and to “stop, drop, and roll.” Maybe when you plan that visit to the fire station that you aren’t actually going to plan, you can make sure the firemen address those topics.

What things do you think that you’re missing as a homeschooler? What critical gaps in your child’s education (academic or social), appearance, or experience are you completely overlooking?

It sucked.

That place is the most poorly designed animal displaying facility I have ever visited. Yes, it’s huge. Yes, it’s flashy. Yes, it’s gorgeous. The flow and function, however, leave worlds to be desired. The various galleries are off a central lobby, so everyone mills about in the middle, taking pictures and staring and pointing. They park their giant strollers everywhere (this is why I babywear) and you can’t get by. They have absolutely no concern for other visitors. I’m pretty sure they’re all Yankee transplants or tourists, because surely no Southerner’s mama raised him to behave like this in public.

In the time it took for us to drive downtown, park the car, and finally get into the first area of the aquarium (which was just the play ground and “pet a shrimp*” section), we could have driven to Chattanooga and been halfway down the fresh water aquarium building. It has unidirectional flow, the Tennessee Aquarium. It may not be as big as the one in Atlanta, but even on the crowded day, you get in quickly and the traffic moves.

We only looked at half the exhibits and we drove home in the driving rain. I’m counting this as a full school day, because, frankly, the experience was so harrowing that I’m sure Captain Science must have learned something very important. I learned that I’d rather go to the TN Aquarium, Zoo Atlanta, and even the damn Gulfarium than spend one single cotton picking minute in the gorram GA Aquarium.

*No, I didn’t pet a shrimp. I don’t want to pet a freaking shrimp. I want to eat a freaking shrimp.

In other words, as long as they can convince themselves that a day spent playing Club Penguin or watching videos on YouTube surpasses the quality and quantity of education in the average public school day, they don’t have to feel guilty about having let their children play Club Penguin or watch videos on YouTube all day. At least the kids aren’t in public school!

I absolutely agree that, overall, the quality and quantity of education received in the average public school is greatly exceeded by the quality and quantity of education received during the same period of time spent homeschooling. That doesn’t mean there is something inherently superior about homeschooling, though. Very little is brought to the table by location alone (academically speaking — mentally/emotionally/socially, being at home has an important impact). Done right, your child is receiving significantly more education than in a public school. Done wrong, your child might be receiving significantly less education than in a public school. Homeschooling parents seem to want to make it about location, but they’re missing the point — a great big fat point. It’s not the fact that you’re schooling at home, but that you’re putting in time, effort, individual attention, creativity, and love. Location is one of the less significant factors in education, coming far behind materials, methodology, and investment in the child’s success.

It’s not fair or accurate to selectively compare homeschooling and public schooling day by day, and certainly not hour by hour or minute by minute. To say “a day of homeschooling is superior to a day of public school” is disingenuous. Which day? Which homeschool? Sure, a public schooled child isn’t learning much on CRCT day, on class party day, on school assembly day. A homeschooled child isn’t learning much on mom’s pneumonia day, on “first I have to run all these errands” day, or on YouTube watching day, either. None of these days would be a fair day to choose for comparison as an adequate example of education, yet I’ve seen many examples of homeschoolers use class parties or school assemblies as examples of how public schools don’t educate, but just waste time. As a former public school room mom, I can assure you that our school system allowed for exactly two class parties a year and they had assemblies once per grading period.

We have had days when we accomplish more work and cover more materials than my son covered in a week in public school. We’ve also had weeks where we struggle to cover the amount of material that they covered in a day of public schooling. It fluctuates. No, every day of homeschooling is not going to cover more material in greater depth, simply by virtue of being homeschooling. Location doesn’t make the materials better — they have to actually be better materials. Location doesn’t make you roll out of bed in the morning and teach — that’s your own motivation. Location doesn’t cause ideal lesson plans to spring up or those lesson plans to be adhered to — you, the parent, have to make sure that happens. That video you watch at home has no more or less inherent academic value than the video watched at school unless you make it relevant, make it part of something bigger. If you plunk your kid on his butt in front of a video without finding a way to engage him in the materials or contextualize them, he’s not learning any more than he would being plunked on his butt in front of a television in public school. Location doesn’t equal education.

Public schools do have certain academic standards to uphold. Yes, many schools are failing, but most schools at least attempt to educate the children attending them. Are these standards as rigorous as my personal standards? Not by a long shot. Do I think kids are sitting there being taught nothing? No, I do not. Public school classrooms cover a wide range of materials. They even cover some of it well. It’s possible to have a sound, thorough education from public school, though a lot of that depends on student commitment, parental involvement, and the quality of the individual school(s) and teacher(s). A good public school teacher will engage the students, find ways to make information accessible, and will impart a love of learning. Dismissing public education out of hand simply because it’s not at home is just as bad as dismissing homeschooling out of hand because it is at home. Location doesn’t equal education. Déjà vu!

Not every homeschooler is done by lunch. Not every homeschooler is learning in a half day what public school kids are learning all day. Don’t make it about day-for-day, hour-for-hour. Don’t make it about there vs. here. Look at the big picture. An hour of half-assed homeschooling isn’t better, academically, than an hour of public schooling with a competent, engaged teacher. Stop telling yourself that to make yourself feel better. Public schools have some really good days, days that are doing to be better than your worst days, and that’s ok. You’ll have good days that are way better than their best days, because you can give your child the personal attention to make a good day great. You, as the parent-teacher, not homeschooling as a concept. You don’t have to tear public schooling down to make yourself feel better about an off day. You don’t have to blow smoke up your own denim jumper. If you’re making an effort 75% of the time and teach your children with love and a vision for the future success, you don’t have to excuse your worst day by trying to compare it to public school. Not only is it not accurate (Really, have you ever had kids in public school? It’s certainly less than ideal, but it’s not exactly day care, and some of them are doing a good job), but it’s not necessary.

It’s not the location that makes homeschooling better. It’s you. You are invested in your child. You want your child to learn. You want her to love what she’s learning. You want him to engage with his curriculum. You make education happen. Keep your eyes on the big picture and the important part you play in it. It’ll keep you motivated through those weeks when “a homeschooled day watching science videos on YouTube is better than a public school day of science labs” seems like a really nice lie to tell yourself.