Smrt Lernins

Why is the world filled with things that suck?

I give you, for example, some things that suck [with some non-sucking things to cancel out a little of the badness]:

• The Tennessee Senate: Sucks. [This church in Kentucky does not suck]

[Note: Delaware also does not suck]

• Texas and Oklahoma: Both Suck. [Planned Parenthood does not suck, however, so consider donating to them or to your local non-CPC women's clinic -- I'm a big fan of the Feminist Women's Health Center, so you oughta donate to them, too]
• Crazy wives/mothers of cop-killing “sovereign citizens”: Suck. [No, there's nothing to cancel out this amount of suck.]
• The “Ladies Against Feminism”: Suck. [However, No Longer Quivering doesn't suck.]
• LZ Granderson: Sucks. [And if you need to know why, read this and this -- Shakespeare's Sister and Pigtail Pals don't suck.]

I’ll now go back to my regularly scheduled reading of BBC articles about the Assize of Nuisance and conditions of privies in medieval London, ’cause that shit stinks a little less than a lot of the above.

For those invested in gender [stereo]typing, it is very important that you do not allow your son to do this (if you can’t find it, upper right hand picture — PINK TOENAILS? On a BOY? WORLD IS ENDING!). People might say ridiculous things like this. They’re afraid you might turn him into this [which, to the gender-typing, is a BAD THING(tm)].

On the other hand, the gender [stereo]typing set strongly encourages you to buy these and these, because it would be awful if your baby girls were mistaken as boys.

So, to summarize:

Playful bonding time with mom and son: BAD!

Dressing your infant daughter like a can-can dancer: GOOD!

UPDATE: Reader Sandhya would like to share this link so we can all learn how long-standing is the history of boys wearing blue and girls wearing pink (hint: it’s not really all that long-standing).

I’ll be the first to say that if you’re getting most of your parenting advice/information from Parenting magazine, you probably need to trot on down to the library for a while and find some actual books on topics of child development, breastfeeding, and maintaining a healthy marriage. Parenting is not interested in you knowing about those things. I think they hit a new low with their article 20 things moms should never feel guilty about, however.

First, they lure you in with #1-4, which all seem pretty reasonable. Then suddenly you’re being given horrible breastfeeding advice (the kind of advice that will tank your supply and/or screw with your baby’s ability to nurse correctly; if you want to formula feed, do it, but if you want to breastfeeding, don’t screw it up by supplementing and giving early bottles) and being encouraged to lie to your friends to make yourself look good, lie to your husband to spend money behind his back, take joy in the [perceived] inferiority of others’ children, and make yourself sexually appealing for random men (but not wanting to have sex with your partner, to whom you’re also lying about money, is totally ok). Oh, and leave your kid to sit in a diaper full of poop, because there’s nothing wrong with that, right?

Parenting magazine doesn’t want you to feel guilty, but I do (well, sorta — see below). I think a healthy dose of guilt is far superior to an unhealthy dose of lies, damn lies, and leaving your kid sitting in poop. If you’re wondering why this is a Secular Thursday post, it’s because I’d like to point out that guilt isn’t solely the purview of religion, just like morality and ethics are not solely the purview of religion. Being non-religious (or even atheist) doesn’t mean you exist without moral guideposts or aren’t still eaten up with the things you do wrong (or “wrong”). Guilt IS what helps guide our moral compass. Feel guilty, but feel guilty about stuff that will actually help you, not stuff that will hinder you.

A list of 20 is kind of overkill, though, so we’ll just go with 6, because this is a blog and nobody wants to have to turn the page. With that in mind, I present to you:

1. Undermining yourself before you ever give yourself a chance to succeed. Whether it’s breastfeeding, homeschooling, going back to school, or learning a new craft, skill, or hobby, don’t set yourself up to fail. Don’t give yourself that “just in case it’s not going perfectly, I can quit” out; make yourself stick to it long enough to get past the rocky parts and see if it really is the right thing for your (and/or your kids). Look for one or two of the best resources on whatever it is you’re doing (don’t clutter yourself up with too much advice from too many disparate sources) and line up one or two support people who you know will be your cheerleader. This isn’t advice to feel guilty about not getting it right or not being 100% successful or changing your mind about what’s right for you; things don’t always work out as planned. The real failure is in not having the faith in yourself to give yourself the kind of fair chance you’d give anyone else.

2. Short-changing your accomplishments and only talking about your chid(ren)’s. One of the worst things women do to themselves isn’t to play up their kids’ milestones and accomplishments, but to downplay their own. That your kid sleeps for an hour longer that someone else’s kid is only an accomplishment in the short term, and it’s the kid’s accomplishment, not yours. Don’t make your child’s mini-milestones the only things you ever brag about. You are awesome; talk about it. If your friends don’t ever want to hear that kind of stuff, they’re not really your friends…or maybe they’re too afraid to talk about their own accomplishments and need a little support to find what’s great about themselves! Encourage them to embrace their own awesomeness, too — it’s so much more pleasant and less petty than playdate one-ups-man-ship.

3. Lying to your spouse/partner about your needs. Not all partners are equal when it comes to supporting their partners’ needs, but if you don’t even tell them your needs, how do you expect them to rise to support them? I know we want our partners to be psychic; they aren’t. You shouldn’t be sneaking off to get a manicure or a massage — not because you shouldn’t get those things, but because sneaking is beneath you and it’s beneath your partner. You’re an adult, for Pete’s sake! Tell your partner what you need, or you two really aren’t “partners;” you’re just two people who hang out together. If, after talking to your partner, s/he isn’t supportive of your needs, that’s a completely different issue, but when you lie to him/her about it, you aren’t even giving him/her the chance to step up.

4. Hiding how much money you spend or where you spend it. See above. Grown-ups don’t have to sneak around. Not only are you potentially wrecking your relationship with your partner by being dishonest (which sows a whole lot of doubt-seeds), you’re also potentially wrecking your family budget by hiding how money is spent. Not every family works off a budget, but having a carefully planned budget makes it a whole lot easier to plan for the hair cut, massage, pedicure, drink w/ the girls, etc. Don’t sneak; clearly express your needs and wants. Again, if at that point, your partner is unsupportive, it’s a different issue, but there’s nothing to be gained by sneaking around.

5. Treating your kid like a purse or a watch. Your child isn’t an accessory that you put on when s/he matches your outfit. Your child is a person. We don’t make other people sit in a pile of their own poop, ok? That’s just not cool. Parenting is often inconvenient, but try not to treat your children as though they were an inconvenience. They aren’t. They’re people, your people, your delightful wonderful tiny people who adore you and to whom you are the Master/Mistress of the Universe. Give yourself permission to show up a little late for appointments, just go ahead and accept you might have to watch your favorite show on Tivo or Hulu later, don’t leave the oven on, and stop to attend to your child’s needs when they arise, rather than when it’s most convenient for you.

6. Not giving yourself permission to be human. Humans are inherently flawed creatures. We screw up royally at almost every turn. Out best laid plans gang aft agley all over the damn place. We also waste so much time beating ourselves up over mistakes we’ve made that are over and done with. We wallow in our failures. Next time you screw up big time, instead of drowning in guilt over how you didn’t do it right, try to assess what can be learned from the screw-up and then say, “I’m human and humans screw up sometimes. What’s next?” When you hold yourself to impossible standards, you make yourself miserable and you aren’t a treat for those around you. I don’t mean to not set high standards. I’m not saying to excuse yourself for slack-assing through life. I’m not saying break wind at a state dinner (you know how I feel about manners). Just acknowledge you aren’t always going to get it perfectly right every single time. Accept it. Release that need to always be perceived as perfect. This is an area where I constantly struggle; I still feel guilty about a host of mistakes (ranging from insignificantly tiny to immeasurably huge) I’ve made over my life. I’m working hard to ditch the guilt over messing things up. Join me!

*And by “feel guilty about,” I mean, “give some consideration to,” because who the hell am I to dictate your guilt or lack thereof? I’m just a blogger, y’all, and Parenting is just a magazine. We aren’t the guideposts for your life. Listen to your instincts, make an effort to educate yourself from reputable sources, and if what I say helps you in any way, more power to both of us. <3 Peace out!

For starters, Happy (almost) International Darwin Day and Happy Evolution Weekend!

If you’ve read my blog for any length of time, you know I’ve had my share to say about Conservative Christianity and its view of evolution as being mutually exclusive with faith. I’ve talked about how appalling it is for parents to teach their children as fact something that is not only NOT evidence-based, but which flies in the face of all sound science. I’ve discussed my concerns about a creationist mentality encroaching into our laws and our schools. I’m concerned about the general dumbing-down of American in the name of God.

Luckily, it turns out that I’m not the only one with those concerns! Even more luckily, Christians themselves are raising their voices in support of evolution science. In 2006, a large group of clergy (467 in total) came together to sign a letter decrying the false dichotomy of religion vs science. Rather than force people to choose between their religion/denomination’s beliefs and strong scientific evidence, they instead started looking for ways to show that scientific theory and spirituality aren’t in opposition to each other. This year, 642 congregations, which include groups from every state and 13 countries, to demonstrate that:

Religious people from many diverse faith traditions and locations around the world understand that evolution is quite simply sound science; and for them, it does not in any way threaten, demean, or diminish their faith in God. In fact, for many, the wonders of science often enhance and deepen their awe and gratitude towards God.

Or, as pastor Carl Gregg so eloquently states it, “As people of faith in the 21st century, we can do better, and Evolution Sunday is an explicit invitation to remind both ourselves and our congregations that we shouldn’t have to check our brain at the door of the church.”

Or, as my former biology teacher, Dr. Wes McCoy, put it, “Understanding how humans are intimately connected through genetics to all other living species fills my soul with wonder. My understanding of evolution does nothing to diminish my faith in God. In fact, my connection to God is deepened when I contemplate the intricate beauty of evolution.”

Secular science and religious belief don’t have to negate each other. Nearly 650 congregations have come together to declare this. That’s nearly 650 congregations full of people who don’t think the Bible has to be believed at the expense of research or our own exploration of the world. That so many people can embrace the compatibility of both spirituality and science shines a rather pointed light on those who say the two must be in opposition. Evolutionary Christians are out there, exploring how science and faith can relate, be reconciled. Every single one of them makes the science-deniers look all the more foolish.

Why would the God you believe in give you an incisive brain if he didn’t want you to put it to good use? I’m legitimately sorry for those who believe in a God who gave them a brain and keen senses in order to trick or tempt or fool them. What a sad state you must exist in, trying to figure out if every bit of evidence is another attempt to lead you astray and then punish you for it. You decry all the evidence as being chicanery on the part of scientists, some kind of devil, or God, because you believe what you have been told: believing in science means you can’t believe in God. How very sad for you that your own denomination or congregation works so hard to keep you in your own private Dark Ages.

I want to see more evolutionary Christians in the world. If faith is going to continue to play such a huge part in our society — and I see no way around that — I hope for a rise in the number of congregations who don’t accept a handful of narrow interpretations of translations of widely-varying accuracy of millennia-old texts over the mountain of evidence supporting contemporary scientific theory. The secular and the spiritual can live together in harmony. There can and should be a place for both. There shouldn’t, however, be a place where “it’s true because I believe it” outweighs “it’s true because the data supports it.” Faith can make us strong or compassionate or hopeful. Blind faith just makes us dumb.

Some of you already know about Secular Thursday, the day when secular homeschoolers (whatever that means to you) can come together and talk about issues and experiences that are relevant to your lives. Over the past two years, the Secular Thursdays (#secthurs if you’re Tweeting about it) movement has grown, until we have a pretty impressive list of bloggers writing, at least occasionally, Secular Thursday thoughts to share with the blogosphere.

Secular Thursday isn’t popular with everyone. Of course, there’s the objection from the non-secular set, but even within the self-identifying secular homeschooling community, people have taken issue with the idea of Secular Thursday. I’ve received comments with a varying degree of tone (ranging from holier-than-thou to passive aggressive to downright nasty) from people who think Secular Thursday is too negative, that the goal is to offend or mock people with other views, that we’re making a mountain out of a molehill when we say it’s hard to find materials and support for a secular viewpoint in homeschooling.

You know, sometimes our posts can be negative. Many aspects of the world seem stacked against a secular education, favoring religion over scientific evidence. Sometimes, however, our posts are downright joyful. Sometimes we do have to mock or poke fun a little bit — it’s a natural response to the attitude that we, the secular/non-religious, are morally lacking or inferior, that because we don’t choose in include God in our curricula, that our children are growing up without guidance or character. It’s hard to live in a world comprised of people who think we’re going to hell; if we need to blow off a little steam, what of it? As my Momma puts it, you can get glad in the same pants you got mad in.

It hasn’t gotten any easier to not be a Christian in this country. It’s not getting any easier. Religion still has a too-strong hold on our laws. We live in a country where a pharmacist can deny a woman’s access to life-saving medication because he thinks she might have had an abortion, where gay people are denied the right to marry or adopt children because it offends someone’s narrow view of the fantasy of “traditional” marriage, where science texts are rewritten to include the decided non-scientific Creationist/Intelligent Design beliefs and history texts are rewritten to gloss over the ugly bits…well, don’t tell me that being secular in general — let alone a secular homeschooler, let along a secular homeschooler in the South — is always easy-peasy and that we’re practically dripping with support.

Secular Thursday is my way of reminding myself that I’m not alone in this. I’m not the only one who feels on the “outside,” who is frustrated by what I see on the “inside,” who would like access to a wider range of materials, who would like access to a wider range of groups and services, who sometimes feels like the world might be going to hell in a handbasket (if you happen to believe in hell, which I don’t), or who just plain wants to talk about stuff that the majority of the folks on the WTM forums don’t want to hear about and can’t behave themselves if you do talk about it. I’m not alone. All of these folks are with me:

• Smrt Mama at Smrt Lernins @smrtlernins
• Patchfire at A Little Rebellion @patchfire
• Rational Jenn @rationaljenn
• Cara at Peanuts are EVIL… @nolamom76
• Bobbi at My Little Soapbox @mylittlesoapbox
• Sarah at Raising Three Thinkers @raisingthinkers
• Lesa at Free K-12 Education @SimplisticLivin
• Renae at Home Education Family
• Luna at Spiral Goddess Home School @lunaskye
• WildIris at By The Way
• Crunchy Mama at The Diosa Dotada Endeavor
• Kim at Embracing My Chaos
• Queen Bee at Lost Persons Homeschool
• Lili at The Neustel Way
• Debbie at School Bytes
• verpaix at Le vert, couleur de la paix @vertpaix
• Meghan at Strader Spiel
• Heather at This Adventure Life
• Dysfuntional Homeschooler
• Julie at Creekside Learning
• Mummy Snow at Snowflakes in the Valley
• Samantha at The Scientific Homeschooler
• justamouse at just a mouse house
• Natalie at Homeschool for Two
• Siggi at Turkeydoodles

If you aren’t on this list and want to be, let me know. If you’ve become disenchanted with the idea of Secular Thursday and want off the list, let me know. If you want to bitch about Secular Thursday, you go right on ahead; it doesn’t hurt my feelings, but it sure doesn’t change my mind. If you aren’t sure what you think about Secular Thursdays, read about it. Read through my Secular Thursday posts, read through Patchfire’s, read through the others on the list. Our points of view are as varied as yours.

[Today's Secular Thursday post was guest-written by The Mama of Concordia Classical Academy. I really appreciate her insight into the Christian perspective(s) on the Harry Potter series and I think it provides a nice point of discussion for Secular Thursday. You can also read The Mama's previous guest post on a religious homeschooler's perspective of secular homeschoolers.]

Why I let my kids read Harry Potter

I suppose it’s inaccurate to say I let my kids read Harry Potter–only one is currently reading. I have let the preschooler watch it with her big sister, though.

The debate around Harry Potter isn’t new. The books have been out for quite a while and there is a ton of information available about the content and appropriateness. I’ve recently seen it crop back up and had to make the choice myself on whether or not to allow it for my kids. These are my thoughts and why I didn’t feel that Harry Potter was an issue to avoid despite our conservative Christian faith.

There are a LOT of people who really adamantly feel that reading Harry Potter’s adventures will damage the faith of their children. That it’s entertaining evil, or just that it’s a waste of time that could be spent reading something that will increase faith.

The main arguments against Harry Potter seem to be:
a) it’s magic and magic is of the Devil.
b) bad things happen in the books and it’s too dark for kids.
c) the magic is worse then magic in other books because it’s the protagonists using it.
d) the writing isn’t great.

I’ll address these as I thought through them and discussed them with my husband.

a) Yes, magic is present in all of the books. It’s even a central idea–Harry is different because of magic, he goes to a magical school, and he lost his parents because of a dark magician. The magic portrayed in the books isn’t really anything different then any fairy tale or fantasy; it has little to no relation to reality. I don’t know anyone who can transform objects with a wand and a short incantation. Nor would I ban all books with any magic–there goes the Brothers Grimm, Hans Christian Andersen, Disney movies, Star Wars, and a myriad of other books, movies, and tales. It’d be a pretty narrow world if you took out all of the material with magic! I mean, it would never occur to me to worry about my kids watching Dora because they would start trying to converse with monkeys and foxes, even though Dora can. It’s make believe and I actually think it’s healthy to encourage pretend and fantasy in kids–as long as they know what is real.

b) Bad things do happen in the books. People died. They are betrayed by people they trust. The kids lie to adults and sneak around. Bad things happen in real life, too. That doesn’t mean you need to dwell on it, but it does mean that exposing kids to it through literature can actually be a good, healthy way to discuss these themes. Part of the appeal of Harry’s world is how realistic it is in the way life goes for the characters. They experience loss and disappointment. They get injured. I have found that it’s actually helped my daughter to read about someone having a problem similar to one she’s had, having, or will have, as long as we talk about it. Kids shouldn’t be set loose in a void to puzzle morality through on their own. These books provide great leaping-off points for discussion. The books also have huge examples of love, self-sacrificing devotion, loyalty, friendship, and courage. About accepting people who are different. About standing up for the little guy–and about coping with being the little guy. It shows how to stick with your convictions and how to treat people how you want to be treated. It’s not all bad by far, folks.

c) This argument seems to play in the same sandbox as the one that the Chronicles on Narnia and the Lord of the Rings were intended as Christian allegory, so it’s OK. I’ll reiterate first that I don’t think most kids read these books and expect to learn to fly or transform things as a result. Even so, is it confusing to see the good guys doing something that could be seen as bad? I suppose for some children it might be, but isn’t this a reason to sit and discuss, rather then avoid something? If faith is so uncertain and tenuous that reading a book where the good guy has unusual powers causes a significant shake up, perhaps there are other issues to address. Just because someone is a hero, doesn’t mean all aspects of him/her are good. Most heroes have flaws that are visible and a big part of them; think of Odysseus. Think of sports stars. Politicians. Isn’t childhood the proper place and time to talk about taking the good and sifting the bad (if fantasy magic is bad)? I’ll take all the chances I can get to help my kids learn discernment with me there to assist.

d) I heartily disagree. I like Harry Potter! I think it’s some sort of snobbishness that I’m in no hurry to leap into to call Harry Potter poorly written or immature. To be sure it’s not an old classic, but it’s incredibly widely read and loved. Just because something is popular doesn’t make it bad. It’s not inferior just because it’s not a century old. It’s appealing, has a cohesive and coherent storyline, and has inspired lots of people who aren’t readers to READ. Isn’t that a mark of great literature?

I can’t tell you to let your kids read Harry Potter. I can’t tell you that they will be deprived without it. The world is full of books. I can tell you that they aren’t some super stealth faith destroying series, though. It’s no different then allowing any fantasy into a child’s life.

To me, Harry Potter is somewhat akin to a sugary donut. It’s not all I want my kids to eat, but it sure is fun.

“Secular” has several meanings and not everybody groks exactly what you mean when you say you’re a secular homeschooler. The World English Dictionary lists these among the first (and more relevant) definitions of secular:

secular (ˈsɛkjʊlə) — adj
1. of or relating to worldly as opposed to sacred things; temporal
2. not concerned with or related to religion
3. not within the control of the Church
4. of an education, etc
a. having no particular religious affinities
b. not including compulsory religious studies or services

To many homeschoolers, “secular” simply means “not using religious materials/curricula,” or sometimes more broadly as “not using Christian materials/curricula.”

When I say I’m a secular homeschool, that’s what I’m talking about. I’ve largely embraced the popular definition of “secular” as used by the larger homeschooling population. By calling myself a secular homeschooler, I am saying that our academic/educational materials/curricula have no particular religious affinities and is related to “wordly” subject matters, not religious. That’s really all I mean. I’m not hiding some additional meaning. I’m not making a statement about my personal beliefs. I’m not making a statement about my thoughts on your personal beliefs. I’m not making a declaration of our educational style or methodology. All I’m saying is that we do not include religious materials in our studies, that we use evidence-based (not faith-based) materials, and that we do not involve religion in the presentation of subject matter.

Not everybody interprets the term “secular” in the same way. Secular homeschoolers themselves often seem to make a leap to a much narrower definition of secularity. I’ve noticed two fairly common assumptions about what I mean by secular homeschooler: that I am an unschooler or that I am an atheist. I have no animosity towards my fellow secular homeschoolers for making these assumptions; I just find it somewhat strange.

Now, if you’ve read my blog at all, you know I’m not an unschooler. When I meet other secular homeschoolers in person, however, they often make the assumption that I must be. Maybe their thinking is they are secular homeschoolers and they are unschoolers, so all secular homeschoolers must be unschoolers. I suppose it’s normal to assume that someone who self-identifies with language you also use for yourself would be like you in other ways. Still, I am unclear as to why “secular” seems to imply “without curricula” or “informal.” I attended some park days with a local secular homeschooling meetup group, and they would initiate conversations with the assumption that I was an unschooler or at least a non-curricula-using homeschooler.

If you’ve read back through my Secular Thursday posts, I think I’ve also made it pretty clear to my regular readers that I’m not an atheist. I usually refer to myself as an nonspecific areligious believer, the dreaded “spiritual but not religious,” or some derivation thereof. I have beliefs that are vaguely deist in flavor, others that are somewhat humanist, and some that are downright New Agey. None of them fit me neatly into any specific religion or philosophy. I believe in something, however. I’m not an atheist. I’m not even an agnostic. I’m just not at all religious, which is what I’d always believed “secular” meant.

I’m not surprised to discover that many secular homeschoolers are atheists. I have no problem with that. I am surprised that there’s an assumption from my fellow secular homeschoolers that I am an atheist. When the majority of the homeschooling world assumes “secular” means “absence of Christian and/or religious curricula,” it’s odd that the secular homeschooling world makes the additional assumption of a complete absence of spiritual belief. Why? Why do so many secular homeschoolers go that extra length in their mental definition of secularity?

I’m not expecting any answers, though if you are a self-identifying secular homeschooler, I’m interested in knowing if you assume either unschooling or atheism when you hear someone else identify as a secular homeschooler. Heck, if you aren’t a secular homeschooler, I’d be interested in knowing what, if anything, you assume.

Well, if you assume I’m going to hell, I’m not interested in know that, because it will hurt my feelings. I might cry. I might take pictures of myself crying and then blog them. That’s just how I roll.

This is a sort of meandering and uninsightful (or un-inciteful) post, but that whole Waldorf thing wore me out and this is the best I can come up with.

Because sometimes the best way to tell a story is through humorous bastardization of the Bayeux Tapestry*.

*And here’s your history geek moment of the day: The Bayeux tapestry is not actually a tapestry (which is woven), but an embroidery on cloth.
**I think this still counts for my NaBloPoMo, because I had to do a lot of screen printing and photoshopping, as the image gallery seems to no longer be supported.

Last weekend, my parents attended the Rally to Restore Sanity. Because they’re super awesome, they flew up in the morning, rallied, and flew home in the evening. On one of the flights, my mother found this tucked into the Sky Mall magazine:

She almost stuck it back in the magazine, but then decided she needed to bring it home to show it to me.

The site advertised on this card is…well, it’s sort of everything that freaks me out about Christianity (and I honestly have no idea what flavor of Christianity this site is promoting, just that’s it’s tongue-speaking, “Whore”-fixated whackadoodle). Of course, I wouldn’t be able to look up the website while on the airplane, because come on. Have you seen how much the airlines cost to use their special Internet connection? *pshaw* So you can feel free to visit the site and marvel and/or gawk, but we’re going to focus solely on this card, since we’re on a hypothetical airplane right now.

So. Yeah. This card.

Now, I appreciate the need some folks have to spread God’s love and advertise for Jesus and all that, but I’m questioning:

A) The effectiveness of Sky Mall magazine proselytizing.
B) Whether a quote about God (who, presumably, is in Heaven, right?) calling us to Himself is the right choice for an airplane, considering how many people have a fear of flying and/or crashing. I don’t know about you, but I’m thinking, “God is great, but I don’t want be “going to Jesus” (dot com or otherwise) right at this very moment. I’d really prefer to land at my immediate destination.”

I have some alternate suggestions for the GoingtoJesus.com people that they might consider putting on their cards instead:

“God’s love helps you fly the friendly skies without turbulence.”
“God is calling you to Himself…eventually. For now, have a nice, safe flight!”
“Going to Jesus, but changing planes in Chicago en route.”
“God always fits in the overhead compartment.”
“God accepts your extra baggage — no charge.”
“No snakes on this plane. Just Jesus.”

Oh, business card proselytes! A little word of advice from a secular homeschooler: I appreciate the sentiment of wanting people to feel close to Jesus, but try not to freak people out on airplanes, ok?

Of all aspects of learning/education, the one I value most, without question, is reading.

Reading is the skill I most want my children to learn and to learn to love. I want them to start reading early, read often, and continue reading throughout their lives. I model reading, we read aloud, we buy books often (they’re one of my few shameless impulse buys), we pack their rooms with books. Captain Science could read at 2, could read well independently by 4, and continues to read well above his suggested age level. Tank really wants to read, but isn’t there yet. He has word recognition for a short list of words, but I can see him being ready to actually read by age 5. I’m doing as much as I can to encourage this, because I see so much value in reading at a young age.

I’ve seen a lot of arguments against early reading. I’ve read claims that children aren’t really ready for reading until 8 or later, or that boys usually don’t (or can’t) learn to read until age 7, or that reading before then is actually bad for children. I’ve heard parents talk about gently (or sometimes less-than-gently) steering their children away from reading because they (the parent) didn’t feel the children were ready. The Waldorf method of education actively discourages reading until at least 2nd grade (of course, they also don’t let kids use black crayons, so perhaps let’s not use that as the rudder to guide our discussion). I’ve heard the inevitable, “Well, whether they learn to read early or late, it all evens out by [whatever date they happen to choose from whatever study that confirms their biases].”

Academically speaking, that might be true. Perhaps a student’s reading ability at third, fifth, seventh, or whatever grade is roughly the same whether s/he learned to read at 4 or at 8…on a purely quantifiable level that measures only the reading ability and nothing else. Standardize testing is excellent at quantifiably measuring a single skill out of context. On the level of the heart, the soul, and the creativity, however, I will not accept that early reading doesn’t offer a great and irreplaceable benefit.

A child who learns to read well by 5 has three more years to devour books than the child who learns to read at 8. that’s three more years of beautiful fictions enriching the mind and sparking creativity and curiosity, three more years of absorbing knowledge and storing it away, three extra years of being able to choose a book over a more passive form of entertainment. That’s not nothing. In fact, that’s a pretty damn huge something that early reading offers over late reading.

Now, I love reading to my children. I think it’s a wonderful, educational thing. Read-alouds and audiobooks won’t cut it as an alternative to those additional years of active reading, however. Listening, while more actively imaginative than watching TV and beneficial in its own right, is still much more passive than actually reading. No need to imagine tone or voice. No need to puzzle out unfamiliar words. It’s much less of an exercise for your mind and your imagination. Losing yourself in a book is an experience that has no substitutes. Why on earth would I intentionally keep that from my children?

I think this is an area where Christian homeschoolers seem to, in general, have the right of it much more so than many subsets of secular homeschoolers. Between the unschoolers (“Oh, it’s ok that my 12 year old struggles with reading! She’ll catch up when it’s important to her!”) and the Waldorf-method homeschoolers, we’ve got a nice little chunk of our smallish population that doesn’t place that much emphasis on reading. I don’t know if it’s because the ability to read the Bible is, you know, kind of important to Christianity or because they are more likely to adhere to a more classical form of education, but Christian homeschoolers seems to be much more encouraging of this early reading. Not all of them, of course, but just in a general observation.

I’ll continue to work with my children to help them unlock their reading skills as early as they are able. I’ll encourage them to read often and read well (both in ability and in literature choices). I can no more imagine discouraging reading until age 8 than I could imagine discouraging mobility in a baby, simply because someone else has decided that 5 months is too early to crawl or 9 months is too early to walk. If the seeds of ability are there, don’t smother them. Water them. Will it make a difference in long-term ability? Maybe. Maybe not. Will it make a difference in the richness of their childhoods? Absolutely.