Smrt Lernins

I don’t actually mind a compromise in most areas. That’s what makes marriages and friendships work, right? I do hate having to compromise on a vision of perfection, however.

I had planned on getting Dinosaur Island for Tank for Christmas. It is absolutely the perfect gift for him. I love the simplicity of the design and the images. He wanted dinosaurs. He loves wooden playsets. He needed a large central present from “Santa.”

Behold! The awesomeness!

Dinosaurs? Check. Wooden (to make a naturally-minded Mama happy)? Check. Appears durable (he is named “Tank,” after all)? Check.

Available in the United States? *sigh* Uncheck.

No success in finding the damn thing anywhere in the country. It’s roughly $99 US no matter where in the UK I find it and I will have to pay who knows how much on top of that for shipping. For the 15lbs or so the playset weighs, I might end up paying $25+ in shipping, which ends up with this one item being the entirety of Tank’s Christmas budget. One dealer in the UK (runs a hobby train shop) and one in Ireland are sending me pricing for shipping tomorrow; if it’s reasonable, we might go ahead with this, the perfect gift.

I have been directed to an alternative wooden dinosaur playset, Dinosaur Park from Constructive Playthings. It’s comparably sized, less expensive, but less well-made, than Dinosaur Island. It’s available in the United States. The images are printed onto particle board, rather than painted. The wooden segments are thinner and the only review I could find only gave it 3/5 stars (but did say that if the playset was constructed and then left, rather than constantly taken apart and put back together, it would likely hold up better). The “less expensive” and “available in the US” aspects make this a reasonable alternative…but my foot-stamping inner 2-year-old doesn’t want an alternative. I want what I want! *stamp stamp*

It’s just so…American, isn’t it? Simple is never enough.

Of course, for the price of Dinosaur Island (without even considering shipping), I could order the Dinosaur Park and the ZipBin Dinosaur Playset to hold everything and provide a play base.

We do love bins around here.

So here I am, having a hissy fit because it makes more sense to buy the less expensive, domestically available item(s) and get more for my money, but it isn’t what I want. I know, I know. I’m a little old for that sort of behavior, but I had a vision of the perfect Christmas gift and I can’t make it happen for the price and ease we need it to be. I know Tank will be thrilled either way and I should just think of it with that perspective, but I will know he’s not getting the coolest thing out there, and that makes me all grumpy and such.

I belong to a group on Facebook called I homeschool and I teach the science of evolution.

The group was previously called “I homeschool and I believe in evolution,” but there was dissent amongst members and potential members over the word “believe.” Evolution isn’t something that someone needs to believe in. There’s no element of faith involved. Evolution is an evidence-based scientific theory. Saying you believe in evolution is like saying you believe in gravity, relativity, or germs. A few possible name options were bandied about, but “I homeschool and I teach the science of evolution” was the overall favorite and most of the members seemed quite happy with it.

Then, of course, enter that handful of we’re-never-happy-unless-it’s-100%-our-way unschoolers (you know…those unschoolers. Not the “we’re following our child’s natural pattern of learning” unschoolers, or the “I let me child direct the course of his education” unschoolers, but the “I’d rather be illiterate than have had my parents teach me to read” Doddist unschoolers) with their panties in a twist over the use of the word “teach.”

Yes, “teach.”

“Teach,” you see, is a big, bad word among a particular subset of unschoolers. These unschoolers do not “teach.” Never, ever, ever. They lead such enriched and depth-filled lives that their children all learn exactly what they need to learn through their vibrant social lives or it wasn’t important enough to learn to begin with. The use of the word “teach” in the group name was apparently offensive enough that several unschoolers (probably the ones my friend Heather calls the “radical XTREME unschoolers”) left the group.

Complaints about the new name included:

“I don’t teach anything, I support my children as they explore their passions and interests.”

“We don’t *teach* our kids[...]We fill their lives with rich experiences, and they reach their own conclusions.”

“I’m uncertain if we ‘teach’ any of the subjects. We facilitate.”

Really? Really? You know what that sounds like? A group of people finding the most circumlocutious way possible to say they teach without ever actually using the word “teach.” And what exactly is so wrong with “teach,” anyway? Let’s take a look at the dictionary entry for the little word:

1. To impart knowledge or skill to: teaches children.

Hmm…imparting knowledge to your child. Sounds dangerously similar to telling your child how to think. Yes, I can see why that might be threatening to the [radical XTREME] unschooler.

2. To provide knowledge of; instruct in: teaches French.

Well, “providing” knowledge doesn’t sound as bad as “imparting,” but you’re still thrusting all that knowledge upon your children when they might not want it.

3. To condition to a certain action or frame of mind: teaching youngsters to be self-reliant.

Aha! We have stumbled upon it. Conditioning your child? Conditioning is what Pavlov did with dogs, and your child isn’t a dog, right? Teaching is practically like making your child drool at the dinging of a bell. Horrifying!

4. To cause to learn by example or experience: an accident that taught me a valuable lesson.

But…but…wait a minute! I thought [radical XTREME] unschoolers wanted their children to learn by example or experience. Isn’t that what unschooling is supposed to be about? I thought it was about natural learning, modeling, learning contextually, learning through life experience and all that jazz. If “teach” can mean “cause to learn by example,” why would unschooler have a problem with that word? Now I’m really confused. It must be a product of my public school education’s failure to “teach” me how to understand crazy people on the internet.

Not all (or even most) unschoolers are coocoo for Cocoa Puffs on Facebook, of course. Most of the unschooling members of the group were very supportive of the name change. One unschooler even pointed out that, “Someone better go tell Holt (from my understanding, the person who coined the term ‘unschooling’) to change the name of his book, “Teach Your Own” since the word “teach” is bothering so many unschoolers here.” Virtual fist-bump, sensible unschooler.

I’d like to say something to those unschooloonies who gasp and clutch their pearls over the use of the word “teach.” You may hate the word, but you’ve inadvertently taught me something very valuable today: You can please some of the people all of the time, and all of the people some of the time, but you can’t please all of the people all of the time, because some of the people are just plain ridiculous.

Spent the better part of the afternoon in the pediatric urgent care, after night two of both the Tank and Babypie shrieking all night long. The final tally was three infected ears between them (two for the Tank, one for Babypie) and a chest x-ray on the Tank to rule out pneumonia (clear, thankfully). Nothing says Christmas cheer like an infected ear. I’m on day two of almost no sleep. Things are getting giddy up in this joint.

Growing up, my mother (Nana) used to always sing “You Can’t Always Get What You Want” to us when we’d whine or complain. I’ve continued that tradition with my own children. They, in turn, sing it to each other.

A few days ago, the Tank was whining about wanting something or another (the red cup, maybe) and Captain Science broke out in song with “you can’t always get what you want!” I sang, “but if you try sometimes, you just might find…you get what you need.”

Without missing a beat, the Tank sang, to the same tune, “But you won’t like it…’cause it’ll have a spider on it.”

That’s so true. So very true.