Smrt Lernins

Michael Smith, author of several books geared towards public school teachers, principals, and administrators, and a school superintendent himself, thinks we should stop teaching kids how to write, type correctly, or spell. He also suggests we don’t need to teach the periodic table of elements, how to use a dictionary, the memorization of “useless” facts like the state capitals, or poetry.

Before I address his specific complaints, I’d like to make it clear that I have very little respect for anyone (let alone an educator) who brags that he made 12 typos in the writing of his blog post and was able to fix them with spell-check. Was I supposed to applaud? Is “Bad Educator” going to be the new “Bad Mom” trend? Considering how insufferable I find those Bad Moms who play up how disengaged they are with their children, how badly/frequently/proudly they’ve screwed up, and how much time their kids are likely to spend in therapy, I’m not on the short list of people who are going to line up to praise Bad Educator.

Consider yourself informed that I didn’t read Smith’s blog with a particularly open mind. Much of what he writes just reinforces my sense of relief that my child isn’t in public school. I think he’s an anti-intellectual and isn’t nearly as funny as he believes himself to be. On the whole, he pisses me off, so here are a few of his bones, from which I am picking the meat. Smith writes:

Penmanship is rarely used by most adults. Unless they are signing their name, so spending hundreds of hours teaching children how to make the perfect “Q” in cursive could be a waste of time.

Rarely used by some adults. Other adults use it quite often. I personally do a lot of my first drafts in longhand. My husband has to take legible notes when he’s out on call (good thing they’re legible, too, because sometimes he calls home for information and I have to retrieve it from his notebooks). It’s also pretty hard to take thorough notes on a laptop while trying to read from a large textbook. Take notes during a lecture, sure, but I can barely fit my laptop and, say, Bevington’s Complete Works of Shakespeare on my desk at the same time, let alone use the laptop to take good notes from the Bevington. Legible handwriting is also very important during the moony teen years, because only cursive can truly impart the angst and passion of teenage poetry. Typing simply will not cut it.

There are benefits to teaching proper handwriting that extend beyond writing letters or poetry or notes, however. It’s a way to develop fine motor skills (a different set from those used in typing). A 2006 study found an increase in letter confusion (specifically mixing letters up with their mirrors, d and b, for example) among those who first learned the letter through typing, and that the “stability of the characters’ representation in memory depends on the nature of the motor activity produced during learning.” In other words, writing letters by hand, not typing, more firmly and accurately implanted the letters into the memory. Handwriting, particularly cursive, stimulates the frontal cortex in a profound, lasting, and measurable (via PET scan) way, not only helping the student retain that skill, but greasing the pathways for later learning.

Keyboarding? Haven’t we progressed past the point of controlling our students by making them sit straight up and down with both feet on the floor while they type? I don’t know of any former students who have computer skills and weren’t hired for a job because they didn’t type fast enough or use the proper technique. Last time I checked, most elementary students know their way around a keyboard.

A) “Controlling our students?” Really, Michael Smith? Really?

B) We haven’t progressed past the point of back problems, carpal tunnel, or a host of other posture-related health problems that are in large part the result of incorrect body and arm positioning at the keyboard. Why not help our kids develop the muscle memory to hold their bodies in a more optimal position while typing and help decrease their risk of these conditions? When I’m having back/hip pain or my wrists are starting to hurt, I’m always amazed (though no longer surprised) by how much better I feel when I put my feet flat on the floor, sit up with a straight back, and position my hands properly on the keys.

C) He’s never met anyone who wasn’t hired for a job because they lacked adequate typing speed? I suppose none of his students have ever been an administrative/personal assistant, then, as typing speed is still pretty important. When being hired for data entry jobs, as well, the ability to quickly and accurately enter the data actually plays a role in getting the job. In my line of work (writing/editing), speed and accuracy in typing may not be a determining factor in getting a contract, but definitely can mean the difference between meeting deadlines (and getting paid) or not, between turning in usable work or not. The faster and more accurately I could type, the more contracts I could take, the more work I could do, and the more money I could make.

D) Captain Science has been using a keyboard since he was 2 or 3. He still has to hunt and peck when asked to type an essay. Playing games online requires the mouse and a few keys, while writing papers takes the full keyboard and very little mouse usage. Please don’t confuse computer gaming proficiency with typing proficiency. Or, as the Nana so eloquently put it, “There is a vast difference in the keyboarding skills needed to hack NASA and the skills needed to write an eloquent term paper.”

Lastly, what’s with all the time on spelling? Do we really need to know how to spell in this day and age? Can’t we just come close when we are typing and then let the computer correct us? During the typing of this blog, I misspelled 12 words. Maybe it’s my keyboarding skills, maybe I’m just stupid.

Oh yes! Let’s just let the machines do all the thinking for us. What could possibly go wrong?

I’m dumbfounded by Michael Smith’s hoisting of the banners of “Meh. Close enough.” Here you have an educator who is not only not particularly concerned that we are, as a nation, becoming dumber (or maybe, to be more fair, lowering our expectations and then falling to meet them), but is actually encouraging it! While I don’t think spelling is a barometer of intelligence (I know of one incredibly gifted girl who struggles with spelling, but excels in practically everything else), I do think that spelling has an important place in a well-rounded education. Far from being a mere “exercise in confusion” that we should get rid of, as Smith extols in another post, or foist off on a computer game (really? do we need less human interaction in education?), spelling teaches patterns, reveals roots of words, and allows for a tremendous degree of playfulness with language. A spell-check program can’t tell which of a set of homophones is appropriate in a given context. Did you really mean that kind of meat, Mr. Smith?

Stop with the memorizing state capitals. [...] If you find yourself desperately needing to know the capital of Delaware… look it up. [..]]I haven’t even gotten to the Periodic Table, poetry [...]

How trendy! Someone in education knocking the value of memorization!

Of course, many professions require an extensive amount of memorization. Think of what doctors have to memorize to graduate medical school, of the laws and cases lawyers must remember to pass their bar exams, of the codes and pathways that programmers must remember. If college is the first time in your life you’re called upon to memorize a large amount of information, you’re going to be in for a real treat.

Smith mentions poetry as one of the things to ditch from education. Memorizing poetry isn’t just a tedious task for filling classroom hours. Poetry teaches us about language patterns, stimulates parts of our brain we don’t normally use, imparts important lessons about rhythm into our cores. I won’t belabor this point too much, because Michael Knox Beran did a far superior job in his In Defense of Memorization. Suffice it to say, it’s not about the importance of knowing the state capitals (though it’s amazing how many times in my life that knowledge has come in hand), but about the importance of the art of learning by rote (or as Michael Clay Thompson prefers to call it, by heart).

Now, don’t get me wrong. I think I understand the point Smith is trying, but ultimately failing, to make. Technology must, absolutely must, play a more central role in our children’s educations. Technical literacy is becoming increasingly important in colleges and careers. Not only should children know how to use a computer for things like typing, graphic design, and programming, but they need to learn how to become fully participating online citizens. They need to be conversant in social media, because it has an undeniable power. Blogging reaches people in ways that other media can’t. Failure to respect the permanence and reach of anything that happens online has cost more than one job, friendship, or marriage. While my digital literacy soapbox can wait for another day, I wholeheartedly agree that digital literacy must be taught in public schools, private schools, home schools.

That doesn’t mean it needs to be taught to the exclusion of everything else. There are benefits to most aspects of a classical education that extend beyond memorizing a poem in that moment, studying Latin or Latinate vocabulary in that moment. Education isn’t just (or even primarily) about what happens in that moment, but about the big picture of lifelong learning, and Michael Smith’s inability to see that big picture is troubling. It’s particularly troubling that he is giving advice to teachers and (worse) administrators, urging them to sacrifice skills that have much greater benefit than what is seen in that moment.

Incidentally, Mr. Smith, spell-check may have corrected your 12 spelling mistakes, but not your attitude. Do you think they make a computer game that can address that one?

Today’s “Ask a [Smrt] Homeschooler” post is something of a cheater topic, as the person who asked the question was heavily involved in helping me sort out the answer. Still, I think my process could be helpful to other people, so I might as well answer this question somewhat formally.

Patchfire asks, “How did you choose your approach to homeschooling?”

First, I have to give a tremendous amount of credit to Patchfire. When I was first considering homeschooling Captain Science, she never one tried to talk me into it or convince me to use any specific approach. I know she was really hoping I’d make the decision to homeschool. I know she was hoping I’d choose a classical approach. Despite that, she constrained herself to only answering the questions I asked, only giving her opinion when I requested it, and also being honest about the challenges. For that, I am truly grateful, because I don’t have any doubts or regrets about the decisions we have made. I know they were our decisions.

Deciding on classical homeschooling was actually remarkably easy for me, though building up the courage to choose curricula and develop a schedule was hard. I have several homeschooling friends, both in person and online. I looked for the families whose children were most like Captain Science in temperament, ability, and learning style, and then assessed whether I liked how they were learning, how much they were learning, and whether or not I found them to be pleasant and well-rounded individuals.

The winner, hands down, of the “most like Captain Science” and the “most like how I’d want Captain Science to be in the future” was Patchfire’s Eclectic Girl. I loved the things she was learning, the methods by which she was learning, and wphat an enjoyable child she seemed to be overall. Plus, she and Captain Science are like two scrawny, brainy little peas in a pod, so it seemed like an easy choice to give credence to methods that worked well for her.

It was also fairly easy to choose an approach because I knew what approaches I didn’t want. I’ve never been a big fan of unschooling, at least as I’ve seen it modeled in the “real world” (or by online folks like Sandra Dodd of the “I’d rather have dentures than have memories of my parents forcing me to brush my teeth” school of thought). My personal experiences with Montessori weren’t great and I’m just not a centers kind of girl. Waldorf/Steiner? Yeah, not going with any approach that so strongly advocates a delay in reading. Unit studies sound great for some areas or topics, but I couldn’t see myself developing an entire curricula around them.

However fringe or hippie I might be in some areas of my life, when it comes to education, I’m fairly traditional. I value reading and writing, and yes, I think those are skills that should be developed earlier rather than later. I value thorough mathematical education, which includes things like knowing the multiplication tables. I think memorization and recitation are important skills for every person, skills that I have found useful on many occasions in my adult life. I value rigorous, evidence-based science education. I value history education that is both broad and deep. All of these values pointed me towards a classical approach to education.

I would recommend that every prospective homeschooler read The Well-Trained Mind first, even if classical education doesn’t sound like something that would float your boat. It’s the most thorough resource on what children should (or could, at least) learn and on what and how much to introduce when. You might read WTM and love it like I did, developing your own classical curricula for your child. You might say “Eff this noise!” and chuck it into the back yard for your chickens to eat. You might take parts from WTM and parts from other places. Whether or not you strictly define yourself by someone else’s approach isn’t the issue — I’m sure some of the most rigorous classical homeschoolers might consider me to be classical lite, as we haven’t yet started Latin (though we do a Latin-based vocabulary) and we don’t to that many fabulous extracurriculars. You just need to find a place to start if you’re trying to decide how to choose your approach to homeschooling. The rest will fall into place after that.

That’s how the [Smrt] Homeschooler chose her approach to homeschooling. Good luck choosing yours!

Do you have a question for the [Smrt] Homeschooler? Email them to
smrtmama@smrtlernins.com

Hapersmion asks, “Any plans to teach Latin, since you’re going the classical route? Greek? Hebrew? Ancient Etruscan, perhaps?”

I’ve looked for Teaching Ancient Etruscan for Idiots book, but haven’t had any luck with that one. I suppose I’ll have to call that a lost cause.

As for Greek and Latin, well, those would normally be a part of classical education, but we’ve decided not to pursue them as our language(s) at this point. I understand the arguments in favor of Latin, especially, but because it’s an area where neither of us have any interest or passion, I just can’t motivate myself to WANT to include Latin. Captain Science wants to do eastern languages, so we’re starting Japanese in the spring. I think a modern language of that caliber is going to benefit him more in the long run than Latin.

We are, however, doing a vocabulary program called Vocabulary from Classical Roots, which (obviously) introduces Latin and Greek roots to words. If learning classical languages is supposedly to help build a better base of understanding for modern languages, I think a classically-based vocabulary book at least accomplishes that to some degree. Captain Science loves it, because he loves language, and has really taken off with it. If, by the end of this first book, he responds more positively to the idea of learning Latin, I’ll consider adding it.

Sure, maybe this gives me Classical Education Fail, but I only have so much time in a day or week. We have a lot of subjects to cover and I have to prioritize. Learning Latin for the sake of learning Latin just isn’t high on my list of priorities. I also admit that my appreciation of Latin isn’t as high as others’ might be, because I never took it in school. My education was public and traditional, not private and classical, so have a tendency to prioritize things based on that experience.

Now, the various incarnations of English? That we will learn. Old English, Middle English, early Modern English? That’s where my passion lies and where I’m apt to get all het up to teach. Perhaps I can manage to drum up that level of excitement for Latin. I’m trying. I really am. I

While reading the Well Trained Mind forums, I came across this little gem. Classical unschoolers? Really? Their group’s description says the group is “for those of us that love the idea of a classical education but also follow a more relaxed, eclectic, unschooling path.”

I’m seeing several problems with the concept of “classical unschooling,” the primary one being that these people seem to have a fundamental lack of understanding of what a classical education is. It isn’t just studying about the Greeks and Romans, especially “by way of self-directed reading and watching videos.” In fact, by Susan Wise Bauer’s (author of The Well-Trained Mind) definition of classical education, learning primarily through videos in and of itself negates the idea of the education being classical. Classical education, through her eyes, is “language-focused; learning is accomplished through words, written and spoken, rather than through images (pictures, videos, and television).”

So how, then, can unschooling be classical? Taking a few elements of classical education, such as learning about Greek history or to speak Latin, doesn’t suddenly impart structure or form to unschooling. It doesn’t fill in the huge gaps of education that can arise from making the child the final arbiter of what s/he should learn.

A child who is unschooled until middle school and is then thrust into a classical curriculum is at a serious disadvantage. While I believe a classical curriculum can be started at any age, an unschooled child will probably have a greater difficulty than, say, a public schooled child in adapting to a rigorous, formal curriculum. Do they really have the foundations upon which you can build a good education? How much catch-up will you have to do to even get the child to the age-appropriate logic stage, when they haven’t had one whit of grammar stage education? If you know you want to educate classically later, why completely unschool now? Do you really think that, come sixth or seventh grade, your child will be willing and able to sit down for formal instruction and that you will be willing and able to offer it?

I think the group’s description sums it up neatly, actually. They “love the idea of a classical education,” but are unwilling or unable to put in the time and effort needed to give their child this education. A 17-year-old working through Saxon Algebra because she realizes she wants to take the SAT, a 10 year old who is only now learning any grammar because he’s only now willing to “pick it up,” a mother logging hours spent on “various activities” so she can fabricate a transcript — these are not examples of classical education. There’s nothing classical about that. Back-applying the “classical” label to half-assed schooling efforts in order to make you feel better about what you’re doing doesn’t actually make the education classical, rigorous, or good.

If you want your child’s education to be classical, educate them classically. Don’t steal the label to dress up what you’re doing if it isn’t an accurate description. If you’re so proud of being an unschooler, just call yourself an unschooler.