Smrt Lernins

The Institute for Democratic Education in America (IDEA) posted a great article today, “The Teacher as Soldier,” addressing statements by public figures about recruiting an “army of teachers” and questioning what war, exactly, these teachers are fighting. The author presents the troubling paradigm of, “Generals and leaders – Administration and the government; Privates/Soldiers – teachers; Civilians/those to be “aided” – students ([...]the group that needs to be fought for – to have things done for them because we don’t see them fit to achieve for themselves) [...] = The War for Education.”

Teachers as low ranked soldiers in a battle (against whom?) to educate passive, helpless student learners; administrators and politicians as detached leaders of a battle in which they aren’t even getting their hands dirty. Not a pretty picture. Not a picture the author enjoys. Is it really that far from the truth, though?

I think public education has become a combat scenario, to some extent, but it’s not a war for education. I’m not sure it’s a war for anything. It’s a skirmish between players with little vested interest, like politicians with children in private school. It’s a battle between Republican tax cuts and the systems that are now so underfunded that they can’t let staff into the building until the day school starts, leaving schedules unfinished, classrooms not set up, curriculum not set in stone. It’s a conflict between the few teachers who are genuinely invested in the success of their students and the administrative status quo that is focused solely on test scores. In this scenario, students are not the citizens being helped, but the friendly fire casualties of a large system floundering and firing randomly, hoping to hit a target they can’t even agree upon.

This is a pretty bleak picture of public education. It’s not an accurate portrayal of every teacher, school, administration, or system. There’s no denying that there’s a strong element of this in public education as a whole, however. Our own experiences in public education certainly point to that. No one was fighting on Captain Science’s behalf but us, and it was a fight we were well aware we shouldn’t have to fight: a fight for him to not be bullied by a teacher who felt threatened by gifted students, a fight for him to spend his days doing something other than worksheets, a fight to have any expression of creativity not squashed out of hand.

Parents have to fight with teachers and administrators to have their children’s most basic educational needs met, and while we’re doing that fighting, more and more funds are diverted away from the children who need them most. It’s obvious who the administration values — not the gifted students and not the special needs students. For the parents of those children, public education can be a constant battle.

The author of the IDEA piece writes, “Learning is not a war, it is an adventure. While it can be used as a tool to equip oneself with the awareness necessary to achieve justice, learning overall is discovery and an intriguing challenge.”

She’s right. Learning is not a war. Education, however, is most certainly a battlefield.

I received a pingback on the Secular Thursday page this morning from the blogger of Quarks and Quirks. After reading through the article that linked back to the secthurs page, I am strongly recommending it to all of you. Take some time to read through “Why We’re Not Secular Homeschoolers” and give it careful thought. It presents a differing set of opinions and attitudes to those that have lead many of us to write our Secular Thursday posts.

I think she misses the mark on a few points (for instance, I don’t believe it’s anger, but a search for “tribal” camaraderie in an overall non-Secular homeschool world, that drives most of us to participate in Secular Thursday), but she took the time to address this issue with great care and has invited polite discussion on it. I do think she hit the nail rather squarely on the head by pointing out that “secular” seems to translate too often to “atheist” or “anti-religious,” rather than “not overtly or specifically religious” (the definition she uses in her post and the one that I follow), leaving those of us that believe in something, but who don’t make that something the focus of our academic exploration, out in the cold.

I hope you’ll take her up on her invitation to participate in a conversation on secular homeschooling. Share why you’re a secular homeschooler (or why you aren’t), why you participate in Secular Thursday (or why you don’t), how you address issues of religion, secularity, etc. (or how you don’t).

ETA: I really wanted this to be the dialogue she requested, but apparently she’s only interested in a conversation with those whose opinions match her own, sadly. I see several great comments from you guys, but no responses.

My friend Heather’s oldest daughter is about to do something absolutely ridiculous: start first grade. I’m pretty sure she’s not allowed to be old enough to do that. In the spirit of preparing for this next stage in academic development, she IM’d me with this cute little message:

So, things homeschoolers never worry about:
1) Will the new teacher like my child?
2) Will my daughter make friends?
3) What if she doesn’t have any of her friends from last year in her new class?
4) Why am I sharpening so many damned pencils?

Oh, sweetie! Have I lead you to believe that the life of a homeschooler is a really so carefree? What a travesty! True, I don’t have to worry about teachers liking my child, but other than that? I have worries! I’m not worry free!

I worry about, on any given day:

1. Will my child be able to maintain his friendships with his public school friends?
2. Will my child have ample opportunities to socialize w/ homeschooling friends?
3. Will we cover all the subjects we need to cover?
4. Will getting in to college be too hard?
5. Does he hate homeschooling?
6. Does he hate me?
7. Would we all be happier if he were still enrolled in public school?
8. How on earth will I cover everything we need to cover?
9. Am I a failure for not having started Latin yet?
10. How about a modern foreign language?
11. Do my kids dress funny?
12. Are my kids well-adjusted?
13. Will my kids manage to actually pass those standardized tests?
14. If they don’t, what does that say about them?
15. If they don’t, what does that say about me?
16. Will I ever get a chance to sleep in again?
17. Do people think I’m doing this because I’m obsessed with Jesus?
18. What would Jesus think about this whole homeshooling business?
19. Am I way more boring than I used to be?
20. Why am I sharpening so many damn pencils?

See, Heather? We worry, too. We probably worry more, because the buck stops here. If our kids are all screwed up, we have no one else to blame but ourselves…and everyone KNOWS it!

Enjoy your babygirl’s first grade year and don’t feel too envious of us homeschoolers. We have it pretty good, but we don’t have it worry-free.

I might owe the young earth creationists an apology.

They just may have had it right this whole time with the “fossils are a) tricks from the devil to confuse you or b)a test from God to see if you believe in the Bible” thing, because apparently, there’s no such thing as triceratops. I’m not putting you on! The triceratops may just be the juvenile form of another dinosaur, the lesser known and decidedly less awesome torosaurus. Why was this not readily apparent to scientists and all dino-obsessed 7-year-olds? Because the tricera-toro-liar-saur-tops had mother-freaking shapeshifting bones, y’all. If dinosaurs with Transformer heads isn’t a prank from a devil or some trickster god (Loki, perhaps? Anansi? Coyote, maybe?), I just may be disappointed a second time, because this is the kind of bullhonky nonsense that just makes me think none of us actually have the slightest idea about…well, much of anything,really.

This has been my biggest betrayal by science since they decided that Pluto wasn’t actually a planet. Wasn’t it bad enough to find out that the brontosaurus was just apatosaurus with the wrong head stuck on it? Now it’s bizarro morphosaurs Science is stealing my planets and my dinosaurs, and this is unacceptable! Next they’re going to tell me that you CAN get pregnant from a swimming pool (if so, I’ll have to give more props to the ultrafundies yet again for their sensible “no mixed swimming” policy) or that we really don’t have a clue how electricity or magnets work!

Perhaps it’s proof that God loves the secular homeschoolers, too–or at the very least, humors us–that a friend of mine should pass this link along to me just in time for a Secular Thursday. Pharyngula, a blogger at ScienceBlogs write about his dismay over the way a “science” textbook published by Bob Jones University presents the topic of electricity. I am equally dismayed.

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?

Patchfire’s post about honest reporting (about your children and yourself) reminded me that one of the requirements for homeschooling in Georgia is that I must write an annual summary or report on what we covered this year and on Captain S’s progress. They can’t require that I give them these reports, but I have to write them and then hang on to them for three years. Record-keeping isn’t my area of supreme excellence, of course, but that’s where the blog will come in handy. All I have to do is refer back to my weeks and weeks of Weekly Reviewins and voila! I shall have all the information I could possible require!

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.

“I do not agree with what you have to say, but I’ll defend to the death your right to say it.” — Voltaire

* * *

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.

As we reach the end of our school year (10 days left after tomorrow), I no longer feel like I’m homeschooling so much as racing. Will we manage to finish the last of the curricula by the end of the school year, or will it dribble over into summer, throwing off the whole rhythm of everything? Each day is a race to finish another book, another subject, so that summer can be a clean start.

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!

[Note from Smrt Mama: My dear friend The Mama from Concordia Classical Academy is doing me a very special Secular Thursday favor by guest blogging this wonderful post about how religious homeschoolers view secular homeschooling. I hope you'll appreciate her unique insight into the differences between our worlds as much as I do.]

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!

I don’t mean the things that we long for, but the things that we homeschoolers tend to overlook.

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?