Smrt Lernins

I don’t know that I can even describe this week without curling up into a fetal position and wimpering, so I’ll just list what Captain Science did, all listy-like:

• Math: Life of Fred: Beginning Algebra cities of Hampton, Race Track, and Tabor. Math Olympiad practice problems to prepare for next week’s tournament.
• Language Arts: Finished chapter 3 (“Unity”), wrote a paragraph on continental drift, and started chapter 4 (“Formality”) in Essay Voyage. Completed chapter VI in Caesar’s English II. Read through section 38 in Beowulf.
• History: Read chapters on the Church during the middle ages, on the Byzantine Empire, and on the Crusades.
• Science: Took PLATO Earth Science mastery test on water cycle (96%). Watched lesson and completed application and worksheet packet on oceans.
• Computer Programming: Did chapter 9 in KidCoder (“Working with Strings”) and did the programming activity.

Tank did pretty much jack this week. He wasn’t feeling great and I wasn’t feeling great and the weather wasn’t great so…excuses, excuses, right?

Babypie be’d cute:

At this very moment (I know, because I schedule this to post right at that time) my “baby” is turning 18 months old. This is a big deal for me, because she hasn’t been all that baby-like for so long–she walks, talks, gets into all manner of mischief–that I’ve been holding on to “she’s not even 18 months old yet” as my way of comforting myself that my little Babypie is still a baby.

I must face the facts, however, and finally admit that Babypie is now a toddler. A full blown, personality larger-than-life, Princess Pitch-a-Fit toddler.

She was a fat, juicy 9lb 4oz baby:

A beautiful force of nature at a year:

Now she’s a 23 pound, lean, mean fighting machine:

So big that I’m pretty sure it shouldn’t be allowed:

And a right good dancer.

Do public schools kill creativity?

Yes, I think they do. I watched Captain Science’s ability to think outside the box be slowly crushed during the course of his 3rd grade year, until he was afraid to think creatively (at least within the context of education) out of concern of chastisement by a disapproving authority figure. I saw the traits that made him unique treated as character flaws or manifestations of a disorder. I even went along with it at first, worried that I had simply been misinterpreting aberrant behavior as creativity.

Our story isn’t that unusual. It should be unusual. It should be completely off the wall, but it isn’t.

A friend recently shared some examples of class rules sent home by her daughter’s third grade teacher. The packet contained fifty rules that the children must follow. Not simple, two or three word rules, either, but fifty rules that meticulously spell out the exact behavior students were to exhibit under nearly every imaginable circumstance. Some examples:

Rule #3 of 50 — If someone in the class wins a game or does something well, we will congratulate that person. Claps should be at least three seconds in length with the full part of both hands meeting in a manner that will give the appropriate clap volume.

Rule #17 of 50 — We should be consistently be able to turn from one book to another, complete with all homework and necessary materials, as quickly as possible. The opportune amount of time to spend in transition should be less than ten seconds, and we will work toward a goal of seven seconds.

Rule #23 of 50 — Quickly learn the names of other teachers in the school and greet them by saying things like, “Good morning, Mrs. Graham,” or “Good afternoon, Ms. Ortiz. That is a very pretty dress.” Note: If you are in line with the rest of the class, you are not allowed to speak to the teachers at that time because the no talking rule is in effect.

Imagine your eight-year-old children receiving a list of fifty such rules. Do you see a lot of room for expressions of individuality within those rules? Would your child come out of that classroom more creative or less? Is this classroom, and the others like it, helping mold a generation of independent and abstract thinkers?

Sir Ken Robinson thinks public schools are killing, rather than nurturing, creativity, and speaks eloquently about it:

Take a moment to watch this brilliant animation “Typography” by Ronnie Bruce of a poem by Taylor Mali.

Are you guilty of the “relentless interrogative?” Are your children?

I know that I am going to make a more concerted effort to have my declarative sentences actually declare and to speak with certainty and confidence in my opinions. I don’t want to be a part of a downward slide into inarticulation. Speak with authority so that your children can learn to speak with authority. Let’s model conviction for the next generation.

Babypie has a new game. She picks up a pair of shoes, walks around with them, “drops” them, sits down to pick them up, stands up, and then demands applause – which also cues me to say “You got them!” That quickly because the game of just sitting there and shaking the shoes for applause and “You got them!”

After playing this for a while, she started saying it herself. I love it when they get so good at playing something that I’m totally cut out of the process.