Smrt Lernins

Today, Captain Science (who has been doing a splendid job of staying on track these last three days) encountered a bit of a road block while working on Writing Strands. The lesson asked him to write about the parts of his schooling that his parents might find interesting. That would be all well and good, but the activity went on to request information about some fairly out-of-home schooling educational experiences, like science projects with classmates, boring lectures from teachers, and the like.

Now, color me confused, but this is the writing curriculum praised by many homeschoolers, including the authors of The Well Trained Mind, so I didn’t expect that an entire lesson (prewriting, two writing assignments) would be relating to the public (or at least more formally structured, with other students) school experience. I told Captain Science to just write about his homeschool day as though he were relating it to Officer Daddyman, but he keeps coming upstairs to ask me things like, “Mama, we don’t have periods. What do I do?” (“Just write about your different subjects.”)

Of course, as much as Captain Science has enjoyed Writing Strands, and as much as I like how it is structured, we’ve had the issue of it just plain being below his abilities level. I’m having to combine multiple days worth of lessons into a single day, just to give him an appropriate level of work. I think now I should have started him with Writing Strands 4, but the recommended age range threw me. Ha! Should have known better.

If I’m going to have to rewrite and reorganize most or all of the lessons, I may as well just write the lessons. Luckily, our Michael Clay Thompson Town curriculum came in the mail yesterday, complete w/ the writing program, Paragraph Town, so hopefully we’ll be able to move forward with something a little more challenging (for him, as the challenge of Writing Strands was mainly for me).

I can’t wait to dive into our MCT stuff, but I’m making myself take the weekend to plan our course.

It seems to have become quite trendy among religious homeschool co-ops and resources to require parents to sign a “statement of faith” before enrolling their children in the program. These “statements of faith” may be as simple as swearing you are Christian and as complex as to make sure you match, theologically and philosophically, with the ideals of the co-op’s founding individual or organization on every single level. If you do not sign, you do not join. Insisting on a signed “statement of faith” may be within these groups’ right, but I don’t think it is right, morally. I also don’t think it’s particularly Christian.

What’s in a “statement of faith?” Ead’s Home Ministry would be happy to walk you through creating one for your religious co-op, because nothing says “love thy neighbor” like something specifically designed to “[e]xclude families that do not share the faith [you] have,” right? Among the many families you can exclude through your carefully worded “statements of faith” are those who practice “Non-Christian faiths and the cults” ( “cults” usually meaning “Mormons and/or any sect/denomination we don’t like”), believe in any form of “liberal theology” (like the notion that the Bible isn’t absolutely literal, accurate, and perfectly translated — not matter what version you’re using), or who don’t believe in the “truth about hell” (“truth” being a word I’ve noticed gets thrown around a lot in groups of this nature).

The words that springs to mind when I see such required “statements of faith” aren’t “devout” or “Godly.” They’re “defensive” and “insecure.” Surely, one who is secure in the rightness of one’s faith wouldn’t feel threatened by the inclusion of someone who didn’t think exactly alike. Surely, allowing a secularly homeschooled child to participate in a math or art class with your children won’t shake your children’s religious foundation or be an affront to your God. What’s the real intent of a “statement of faith” anyway? Is it really to help protect those of different faiths from being “uncomfortable” or feeling out of place, as the above website claims?

Do religious homeschool co-ops really believe they are in danger of being inundated by secular homeschoolers, with the intent of converting (or unconverting) their children and bringing down their organizations? The teachings of some fundamentalist churches are awfully paranoid, so perhaps they are ascribing an agenda to secular homeschoolers and our children. Concepts like “tolerance” and “inclusivity” are presented as subtle ploys to undermine belief. Personally, I’ve never met a secular homeschooler who wanted to waste their money and their child’s educational time on a creationist science class or Titus 2-style daddy/husband worship Bible study program, period, let alone one who desired to waste that time and money simply to undermine the program. We might like to enroll in classes on art, music, math, or a variety of other subjects. If we find the subject matter or the co-op itself to be so offensive, counter to our beliefs, or beyond our comfort level, we just don’t sign our kids up for it.

I know a few secular homeschoolering families who participate in religious co-ops in order to have access to classes and opportunities they wouldn’t otherwise get. Their goal isn’t to disrupt class or try to dispute any religious messages. They don’t teach their children to argue with the teachers or try to convince the other children in the class that their beliefs are wrong. The expect their children to be respectful of the co-op’s teachers, rules, and beliefs, just like you would respect the rules and beliefs of someone in whose home you were a guest. Most of them use the differences in beliefs as an after-class teaching tool, to show that people who believe different things can still come together in certain areas. Isn’t that a message we want to teach children, rather than the message of excluding and reviling anyone not exactly like us?

In many areas, especially smaller towns and rural regions, religious co-ops are the only game in town. Thankfully, not all religious homeschool co-ops and resources require these exclusive “statements of faith.” Some have them listed on their website or in their paperwork, which is helpful in making the theological and philosophical foundation of the organization obvious, but don’t require that parents or children sign them. Some require only that their administrators and/or teachers sign. Plenty seem to still actually believe that their goal should be educating children and providing services to the community. That seems to mesh a whole lot more with what I’ve read about Jesus than “keep your kids away from mine, you sinner” — then again, secular homeschooler here, so I supposed my understanding of the Bible is automatically suspect.

Incidentally, I’ve yet to come across a secular homeschool co-op that required anyone sign a “statement of non-faith.” In fact, our co-op is “an all-inclusive group” that “welcomes diversity” and doesn’t “discriminate on the basis of race, religion, nationality, political views, or teaching style.” Is that really so very threatening?

Despite the Tank not being back in preschool yet (back on Wednesday), me having to take Babypie to the dermatologist (all’s well!), and this being Captain Science’s very first day after winter break and on the new schedule, I think things went swimmingly.

Captain Science and I got up at 8:00am. He grumbled a little at this, as I previously allowed him to wake naturally, which lead to a pretty wide variance in start times. Still, he got up, did his arm exercises, got dressed, and ate his breakfast quickly and with little fuss, and sat right down to get started on his math before I had to leave with Babypie.

Officer Daddyman called me at one point to verify the timing of snack and lunch, as our snack break is 10-10:30 and lunch is from 11:30-12, and there’s not another snack listed on the schedule (he’ll have one w/ his school reading or during any of the other free times). What he doesn’t realize is that if Captain Science doesn’t get frequent, small breaks for movement and a little food, he can’t concentrate worth a hooey. An hour to an hour and a half on, 15-30 minutes off seems to be the magical combination for maximum output.

Math was a bridge (between chapters 10 and 11), grammar was an Editor in Chief A1 exercise, and history was on Roman technology. He went over the time limit on all three, but was able to complete the work within the time allotted for catch-up work and corrections. I think that as he adjusts to the new schedule, and after we do a little desk rearranging to help speed things up, that he won’t have trouble finishing everything.

It felt great to be back to school today. I’m not looking forward to the Tank’s return to preschool, though, and am now leaning even more strongly towards not re-enrolling him next year, in favor of putting him in the Master’s Academy arts program. If he’s going to be in a religious setting, I think he’d benefit more from it being arts-based (which I can’t really give him) than “academics”-based (which I can).

Have everyone else started back to school?

I’m sure you’ve all missed me terribly, and pined for me like a not-dead-merely-stunned parrot pines for the fjords. I’ll be picking right back with my regular weekly posts, like “Ask a [Smrt] Homeschooler” Tuesday and Secular Thursday, this week.

We’re starting some new curricula this semester: Lively Latin and Michael Clay Thompson’s Grammar Town (also getting the teacher manual). After Captain Science wraps up his Vocabulary from Classical Roots book, we’ll switch to Caesar’s English I, for compatibility with his grammar. Still up in the air about Practice Town.

To keep us on task a little better, I’ve made a color-coded schedule for Captain Science for Monday through Friday. I won’t go as far as Patchfire and make schedules for the whole family, adults included, but I think a detailed schedule for my somewhat scatterbrained son will help, not hurt.

Here, marvel at my schedule:
Captain Science’s Weekly Schedule

Wasn’t that marvelous? Are you, as some might say, dazzled? I thought so.

2010, y’all. Another 90 days to go. Onward and upward.

MJ has a few questions for the [Smrt] Homeschooler this week. She asks, “How long to do you plan to homeschool? What/how do you base you decision on whether or not to homeschool the other kiddos? And/or will you start Babypie out on the ‘public’ path or just skip it altogether and do homeschool from the beginning?”

Right now, my plans for homeschooling have no upper limit (other than college, obviously). That is going to be entirely up to Captain Science’s needs as he ages. I’m sure there will be many subjects where his needs outweigh my abilities. Luckily, that doesn’t necessarily mean a return to public school, unless he wants to attend one of the magnet high schools in our area, of which we have several. He could attended our local university (or one of the downtown universities) as a joint-enrollment student. He could take classes at Pierian Springs, which offers classes for upper grades with a collegiate style schedule, format, and campus (complete with collegiate pricing, though. Ouch!). We can get packaged curricula or find online classes for Advanced Placement classes, if it’s outside my subject area, and he can take the AP tests to exempt out of college courses. There’s tutoring, co-ops…we have lots of options. Returning to a mainstream public school really isn’t one of them at this juncture, though.

I might do with Babypie what I’m doing with the Tank, and put her in a year or so of preschool at someplace like the little Methodist school where the Tank goes. It will depend on her needs. I have no plans to enroll either of the kids in a mainstream school past pre-K, though. I’ve become too disenchanted with public education’s methods and goals. I think homeschooling is better for my kids and for our family as a whole. If one of them shows a need for a different environment, we’ll address that as it comes.

As a bonus, MJ also would like to know, “What’s the wackiest religious based material you’ve seen out there?”

Oh, MJ. How could I pick just one?

Emily at Learning Vicariously asks, “If you could go back in time, would you have homeschooled Captain Science all along, or were you happy with his early education before last year’s teacher? What made you decide to put The Tank in a traditional preschool? What are your plans for him and Babypie in the coming years?”

I’m not really much of a “go back and changes things” person in general. The end is almost always a result of the process. I never would have come to homeschooling as a first choice — I had to get there by seeing how nothing else was right for Captain Science.

We learned a lot from the different schooling methods. I regret a great deal about those years, too, especially not pulling the Captain out of his Montessori school when we first suspected the bullying problem (the bullies in question was the teacher’s daughter and her best friend, the daughter of another teacher in the school) or insisting that he be moved to a different class in public school when we realized the ongoing issues with the teacher were so extreme. I’m unhappy with Montessori and public schooling, both as they apply to Captain Science and systemically. Having something to which I can compare homeschooling, however, is a good thing. Having Captain Science’s attitude, demeanor, and willingness to work to compare to how he was in other schools means I can appreciate just how good homeschooling is for him. Seeing what methods don’t work for him gives me a better idea of what we should try as an alternative.

We opted to put the Tank in a traditional private school setting for a few reasons. For starters, the little Methodist preschool is the same place where Captain Science went for two years, and he loved it there. The teachers are sweet, it’s low on the God stuff for a church school, it’s close by, and relatively inexpensive. Because this was our first year homeschooling, I thought it would be best for Captain Science if we could focus as much attention on him and his education as possible. I had no idea how this was going to work! I had no idea to what degree we’d struggle, how much time it would take, or anything like that. Having the Tank out of the way for a few hours, three days a week means I can put a lot more energy into school for Captain Science on those days.

I also did worry a little about the socialization issue. The Tank isn’t old enough for classes at the co-op, so he spends a lot of that time playing with the babies and younger toddler. While many of my friends have children Captain Science’s age, their other children are mostly older or younger than the Tank. He’d never spent any significant amount of time away from me. I wanted him to have an opportunity to play with other children in a safe environment for a short period of time — preschool seemed like an ideal place for that. Plus, he had been begging me to go to school since he was old enough to realize Captain Science was going somewhere, and despite the Captain being home now, the Tank still wanted to go. He enjoys it immensely and I view it as a regular playdate much more than I do “school.”

Next year is still up in the air for the Tank. I know I’ll homeschool from kindergarten onward, but whether or not we re-enroll him for another year of pre-K is yet to be seen. I know he’ll want to go, but I’m not sure I’ll want him to. The back and forth to the preschool is disruptive and inconvenient, so if I can find a better outlet for the Tank’s (considerably higher than Captain Science’s) social needs, we may not go back next year. As for what we’ll do with Babypie, that’s still so far in the future at this point that I don’t even want to think about it! There are several other baby girls her age in our homeschool circle, which gives her more of a ready-made friends than the Tank had available. With her being my (potentially) last baby, I might also be too clingy to send her off anywhere. Yes, I admit it! I might be a bit overprotective of my baby.

All in all, I’m happy with the choices we have made for this year, but I wouldn’t rearrange our past in hopes of getting this experience sooner. It’s homeschool-by-comparison that allows us all to truly appreciate what a gift we have been given.

Yesterday was the 150th anniversary of Charles Darwin’s On the Origin of Species. Since then, our understanding of how evolution works has changed and expanded, and scientific discovery has advanced at an almost exponential rate because of it. The field of evolutionary biology has helped us learn about genetics and the science of aging, and has even provided the framework for nanotechnology.

Of course, evolution fails far more often than it succeeds, and that failure teaches us, too. Too much change, too quickly, and a species can’t pass on the necessary traits quickly enough to continue. The little mutants who struggle gamely on can’t reproduce swiftly enough to make generations of little mutants who thrive under the new conditions. For any species to reach its evolutionary potential and not snuff it at the first big challenge makes the process all the more incredible. That infinitesimal biological differences, compounded over time, have taken us from the cell to the brain that can study the cell is enough to blow the mind of this particular collection of cells.

Adapt or die. Change or become extinct. This concept is practically ubiquitous in humanity, isn’t it? It’s not just in our biology, but in our technology, our culture, our beliefs. Those who cling to the outdated perish, either literally or figuratively through a death of relevance. Those with the tiny differences, the small but significant ways of adapting, that genetic willingness to take a risk and strive towards the new, survive and pass those traits on in a stunning continuation of the evolution of the human mind and that thing we call the human spirit.

What is our evolutionary potential as human beings? How far will we go? Is that change that could spell our end out there, waiting to wipe away all but the traces we left on the world? What tiny mutations — currently undetected, inconvenient, or seemingly irrelevant — might spell the success of our species?

Happy Birthday, On the Origin of Species — you didn’t get it all right, but you opened a doorway in our minds through which we could travel towards understanding.

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

This week seemed to drag and I feel like we accomplished next to nothing. It was Dawdling Week. WeekFail. Apparently this is normal for November, so I won’t wail and tear my hair too much.

Math hit a stumbling block today with dividing fractions using cancellation. The whole “but we’re MULTIPLYING!!!” thing was just too much and broke Captain Science’s brain. It shouldn’t have, but it did. Same thing in grammar — Captain Science forgot how to identify and diagram a direct object. Both issues have, thankfully, been remedied, but it’s been a muddled up, fuddled up sort of week.

In Life of Fred: Fractions, Captain Science covered chapters 25-28.

In grammar, he covered 6.7 (synonyms and antonyms), 6.8 (homonyms), and 6.9 (good vs. well) in Growing With Grammar. Because he had a setback with direct objects, we did some additional diagramming, 3-4 sentences every day this week, so about 15 minutes a day of grammar. In Writing Strands, he continued with building paragraphs. His essay this week was about preferring Babypie to The Tank, as far as siblings go.

History saw the end of our formal lessons about Ancient Greece. We’ll do the Greek pantheon next week, but we finished up topics of math, science, medicine, and Greek home life. Essay topics were influential Greek mathematicians and the difference between childhood in Greece and modern times.

Science was all about color and light, but it was completely hands on, no written materials. He really enjoyed running around with Eclectic Girl doing all the experiments.

Co-op went well. We’re wrapping up poetry and our class decided to name our upcoming book Chairs with Brains. All students have to have their final drafts in to me for publication.

The Tank’s conference was this week. He is adored by his two preK teachers, who love how he says “nuttin” when they ask him what’s bothering him and how excited he gets when he gets leftovers packed for lunch. They aren’t concerned about his speech issues, but offered advice on how to proceed with interventions if we were concerned. He can recognize all his classmates names in writing!

Babypie is trying to talk. She says “hey/hi” and “dada” (only to Officer Daddyman) regularly, and sometimes says “hey there” and something that sounds like “yeah!” She mimics sounds back sometimes, repeating the first sound of her name and Captain Science’s.

This has probably been the week where I’ve most felt like we accomplished nothing. We did no typing, no logic, no music appreciation. We slogged slowly through our materials, sometimes taking all day to get things done. Patchfire assures me this is normal and that November is just the month that makes you want to throw in your towel. I don’t want to quit — it hasn’t even crossed my mind — but I do need to find something to revitalize us. I think it’s good that we’re wrapping up Greece, because I need a change. Rome is nice in the fall, I hear.

I’ve signed up to participate in National Blog Posting Month (see the little dealy in the side bar on the right?), so I now have absolutely nothing to write about, naturally. I suppose it seems reasonable to blog about blogging in general as an official kickoff off NaBloPoMo (not a portmanteau of my own devising, I assure you).

Since I seldom write about My Life Prior to Homeschooling™ here, I’m sure I haven’t mentioned that I used to be a part of a NCLB-funded grant program, run through the journalism department of my local university, that involved teaching middle and high school teachers how to blog and integrate blogging into their classrooms. My job was to actually teach the teachers how to set up their blogs and give suggestions as to how they could use them. I helped set up student blogs. I encouraged developing a blogging community between teachers, both interschool and intraschool. Unfortunately, most of the teachers were unwilling to exert the kind of effort needed to use the blog effectively, and the project tended to fizzle out by the end of each school year, leaving us to start from scratch with the next year’s batch of teachers. After two years of this, I decided not to re-up as a contractor with the program.

During that time, however, I did develop a huge appreciate for the role blogging could play in education, both for teachers and for students. Now that I am homeschooling, I find blogging to be a useful tool in several ways, as an outlet for emotion, a mean of recording experiences, a networking opportunity, and on down the line.

So, why should homeschoolers blog? Here are some ways that blogging may be helpful to you as a homeschooler:

These are just a few suggestions of ways to use your blog as a tool to help make your homeschooling experience better. I’m sure you can think of many more. How do you use your homeschooling blog?