Things Worth Remembering The three habits that lead to success are: Patience, Application, and Vision.
Take care: The person who will tell others' faults to you - will tell yours to others.
It is always better to be underestimated.
There are three things that are better than riches: Health, Freedom, and Honor.
Think swiftly, speak softly, act wisely.
"The world is neither Scottish, English, nor Irish, neither French, Dutch, nor Chinese, but human, and each nation is only the partial development of a universal humanity." - James Grant on founding the National Association for the Vindication of Scottish Rights, 1862
All from: The Book of Celtic Wisdom
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“Nevertheless, I’m taking Captain Solo and his friends. You can either profit by this or be destroyed. It’s your choice, but I warn you not to underestimate my power.” – Luke Skywalker, Star Wars VI: Return of the Jedi
When Padawan Learner was just a wee little guy, wrapped snugly in his blankets, sleeping calmly and silently through the night (yes, I understand that many of you will now be compelled to hate me for that statement), I assumed that he would be a traditional scholar. A multiple degree-holding academic of the first order. He would love learning for its own sake and almost compulsively read through the local library system. When he was a two year old chipping golf balls in the front yard and chasing down soccer balls in the back, I assumed he would be a traditional scholar who rode into college with both academic and athletic scholarships. When he was a five year old kindergartener, bored by reading lesson because he already knew how to read, I assumed he would be a traditional scholar, sought after athlete, who also was accelerated through multiple grades.
A decade later, my son is not a traditional scholastic academic, is not fighting off athletic recruiters, and is not advanced for his years. He struggles with math (sorry to have shared that with you, kiddo), doesn’t much care for science (although physics is considered interesting enough), and couldn’t really care less about the humanities. Oh, the humanities! He hates to write, which is proof positive that he is Dad Windu’s child. He’s a strong, if not regular reader, given to fits and starts of recreational reading. Oh, and he’s not a stellar athlete either. Definitely athletic, and given to strange and frightening leaps and twists on the trampoline – 9.8 last weekend, thank you very much – but probably not collegiate level. Sound grim to you? I’d be more upset about it, if I didn’t know that he’s a pretty normal kid.
He’s got a serious girlfriend (just shoot me now) who seems nice enough, with enough family baggage to cause an appropriate amount of maternal concern. He knows that teen romances rarely last, but he’s interested in giving it a try. He wants to, maybe, go to college for video game design, but mostly he just wants to play them. He has an absolute passion for parkour that makes my stomach lurch, his hands raw, and his pants ripped. He isn’t very good at keeping track of his schedule or his stuff yet, but is learning that if you don’t pack a lunch for school you get pretty hungry in the afternoon. He likes to roam around the downtown area with his best friend who is probably going to move back to Texas this summer, so he’s scraping to spend time with her because he has already learned that moving away means you probably won’t have much contact after that. He’s learning to enjoy the moment and accepting the “seasonality” of most friendships.
He’s learning that it doesn’t matter what you say you want, if you don’t do anything about it. He’s learning that there’s a limit to what your parents are willing to take when it comes to attitude and behavior. He’s learning that consequences for poor chooses are, by their very nature, often unpleasant and decidedly un-fun. He’s learning that laundry doesn’t care for itself, clear skin doesn’t just happen, showers don’t magically sparkle, and that it’s easier to take care of things than to catch up on things.
He’s learning from others, too. A boy his age has taught him that being in the 98th percentile on a high stakes standardized test isn’t nearly as impressive when you’re also a self-centered jerk 98% of the time. He’s learning that some people have an easier time understanding certain things, but all the “smarts” in the world don’t mean a thing if you can’t be bothered to do the work. Conversely, he’s noticed that fighting for a solid C is better than someone else throwing away an easy A because they couldn’t be bothered to show up for class. He’s learned that some mistakes, especially relationship mistakes, can last a lifetime. He’s seen how long $45,000 in student loans takes to pay off, especially if you never graduate and have to work two jobs just to support yourself and your not-so-sexy debt. He doesn’t enjoy math, but he understands compound interest.
Ultimately, he’s recognizing that “intelligence” goes hand in hand with effort, just like “luck” goes fastest to the best prepared. He’s learning that no one can do the work for you, make you want something enough to fight for it, or set your path before you. These things – he’s learning – must come from within himself. He’s a bright one, that son of mine, and I know he will go just as far as he chooses to go.
Anakin Skywalker: “She programmed Artoo to warn us if there’s an intruder.”
Obi-Wan Kenobi: “There are many other ways to kill a Senator.”
Anakin Skywalker: “I know, but we also want to catch this assassin. Don’t we, Master?”
Star Wars II: Attack of the Clones
If you haven’t been yet, secular homeschoolers might want to go check out the Secular Homeschool website run by Topsy-Techie (sigh, how I do miss her blog). The forums are friendly and lively, but without the ever increasing flaming I got tired of seeing on another (very large) homeschooling website tied to a famous homeschooling method of the same name. Yeah, that one. An added bonus is a lack of “the argument for creationism” and “evolution is just a theory” threads that made me want to toss my computer across the room.
One that had me thinking today was about textbooks – and how they have gotten a real stink attached to their very being. Being lazy, but still thinking it was worth sharing, here’s my 2c on the topic – as copied from here.
There is no One Right Way
I wonder why there is often such strong feelings about textbooks versus non-textbooks.
They’re just books; some we find useful and some we find useless. Some books engage our imagination, some are strictly “just the facts, ma’am.” Some are luscious, some are dry. I don’t read the news – online or in print – because I’m looking to experience something. I read for a bit of information. When I want a more rounded, interesting look at something I read National Geographic or Smithsonian. If I want to immerse myself in the topic completely, I head to the library and immerse myself in minutia. I’m reading two books by John McWhorter right now – burying myself in the details of English grammar and the evolution of written language. I’ll probably recommend them to Padawan Learner, despite the fact that I know it’s not a real interest of his, because I find them so interesting. He just wants to know where to put a semicolon so he doesn’t have to rewrite any sentences in his online writing class. Furthermore, he’ll continue to recommend coding websites, because he finds them interesting, when all I want to know is how to keep my sidebars from going wonky.
Sometimes I get the impression that people don’t consider my son a real unschooler/self-directed learner/free-range learner (Topsy’s son’s term – and my personal favorite) because he uses textbooks as the base for the science and maths that he’s currently learning. Why? Isn’t the goal to learn the things that we both need and/or want to know? Of course it is. If learning about mummies, the goal really probably shouldn’t be to mummify a chicken. The goal should be to learn about mummification. Mummified chickens are cool or nasty or just plain weird – depending on who you ask. No right way to learn about mummies.
A friend doesn’t consider herself “a very good Charlotte Mason” homeschooler (despite her best efforts) because her kids want to cut to the chase and just grab an American History textbook instead of having so many different activities/books/tie-ins involved. Deep down, she admits, a few of her kids don’t really think history of any kindis all that interesting – no matter what she does – but she can’t bring herself to “give up” on her educational beliefs and buy a textbook to meet what she feels is a basic educational requirement for her American homeschoolers. Now, the goal is to know American History – and her kids ARE learning about it – but would their learning be any less if they learned it from the pages of a textbook? Does rendering lard make for better citizens or just better cornbread? No one right way to learn American History.
Textbooks are often accused of being dull, of crushing interest, of being needlessly rigid. And they can be, if you don’t like the textbook or the author’s methods of explaining things or are prejudiced against textbooks in general. But keep this little picture in your mind: my best friends’ husband (a bright and wonderful man) has kept all his college math textbooks because he likes to re-read them…for fun. She says that he once started chuckling to himself in bed one night while reading a geometry text and she (the math-hater) asked him why. His response was, “I just can’t believe the author went about making his proof this way. *chuckle, chuckle, chuckle* It would be much easier to do X, Y & Z instead.” Whatever floats your boat, I guess. No one right way to be entertained either.
Melissa in Oz, commented that CM isn’t the same as unit studies. Which is closer to what I described above, so I thought I should include my response, as well. Just to be accurate.
You’re right, Melissa. They’re not the same, and I’m sorry I didn’t make myself clearer.
I thought about that later – she calls what she does CM, but ties a lot of unit studies in as well (especially for her youngest ones). I thought of her though because she’s always talking about books like I remember CM writing about them. No twaddle, boring textbooks, only living books (a term, I admit, that I find condescending). She does focuses on spending time in nature, working on nature journals, and using “real books” in place of academic – aka, boring – books. I should have noted that she’s more eclectic in reality than she self-identifies.
I would like to note that I have a high regard for the multitudes of approaches to teaching children – I swear, I’ve probably tried them all over the years – and the various ways adults go about helping their children learn. I believe we do ourselves, our children, and the larger world of learning a disservice when we write off any sub-category of books as unnecessary or – worse, detrimental – to learning or achievement. My son learned to read, on his own and largely without my assistance, because of Calvin & Hobbes at the age of 4. He’s not a wunderkind, just a boy that wanted – desperately – to know what that spiky-haired boy and tiger were saying to each other. A series of cartoons, the horror. Complete and total twaddle, but it was the key to opening the doors to reading for my son and many other highly visual kids.
I learned the basics of physchology in highschool because I saw a used textbook at a book sale and thought, 25 cents? You bet. It’s wasn’t an involved read, but it was thorough discussion of the topic and gave me a desire to know more, fueling my decision to take a few courses in it during my undergrad years. Not a career in it, not a passion for it, but a definite interest.
“Your feeble skills are no match for the power of the dark side. You have paid the price for your lack of vision.” – The Emperor, Star Wars VI: Return of the Jedi
Poor Padawan Learner. All these years he’s never had to learn to take proper notes from a book, but all that has changed.
With his move into high school classes and his interest in taking a whopper of a class next year (with Biology and/or Chemistry AND Algebra II as pre-requisites), I’m weaning him off the mom-directed manner that used to define how we homeschooled – you know, back before we were unschoolers. (Cue the maniacal laughter for the strangeness of the path PL has taken over the years.)
In past years, I drew up a daily to-do list with everything broken up into little bite-sized morsels of reading, math, and etc. In addition, we previously only used conversational assessment since I find test-taking so limited in its scope. It was easy for PL since he didn’t have to put any thought into how things were going to get completed, and it was lovely for me because I’m an uber planner. Different times require different methods though. As he becomes independent as a student – even making his own lunch the night before school without being reminded – I’m scheduling weekly- and chapter-based readings for the science, history and health-related books that he’s using. That means I’ll still be breaking his math and formal writing topics into 2-3 day chunks, since they require so much participation on my part ahead of time, but he’ll be setting the pace (to an extent) for his independent reading.
What about the note-taking though? Well, part of his independent reading task is taking good, detailed notes from the chapters read. I want to emphasize that: good, detailed notes. Yes, I’m being a stickler on these notes because this skill will be the foundation for any out-of-the house classes he’s bound to take in the future. PL is not enjoying this at present, but I didn’t expect that he would. He hates writing, mostly from lack of practice I do believe. The conversational manner of his education up to this point has been fantastic for comprehension and rationalization skills, but it has done so at the expense of his writing skills. I wrote up some good, quality notes from the introduction of his Art History book to show him an example of what to aim for, and explained that I knew it would take some time for him to get to that point.
I’ve also included section review sheets for his Biology and Physical Science books and will include chapter quizzes, a mid-term test, and a final exam. This is a completely new arena for both of us, but is the reality for the educational setting that he has chosen for the sciences. It would be a disservice to exclude them this year just because I find them so distasteful and limited in scope. We’ll also use the corrected section review sheets as a study guide for chapter quizzes and the larger tests to come. Ah, the skills one learns while taking traditional classes. They will serve him well.
“For a mechanic, you seem to do an incessant amount of thinking.” – C-3PO, Star Wars II: Attack of the Clones
Padawan Learner wants to be an inventor. Maybe I should say PL is an inventor, because he’s been imagining improvements to just about everything that comes his way since he was old enough to declare something “to be when he grows up”. His inventions/improvements are often fantastic (lovely word, that – multiple meanings), frequently push the laws of physics, and sometimes lead to quite interesting discussions – occasionally heated discussions when he feels that Dad Windu and I are just not getting the point.
Once or twice a year, I hear this refrain, “Why am I learning about (insert annoying topic o’the week here)? I’m going to be an inventor.” My answers usually run along these lines:
- Who cares if my spelling isn’t right? Only the people reading your grant proposal.
- Why do I need to learn calculus? Do you think you’ll ever need to calculate things in motion?
- Do I have to learn the metric system? Only if you want people in the scientific community to take you seriously.
- Is good grammar really a big deal? It is only if you want patent clerks and investors to fully understand your invention.
- What’s the point of learning history? You might find a new solution by exploring an old problem.
One of the best things to help stem this tide has been talking about all the different shapes that ‘inventor’ can take. Is a chemist working on a new cholesterol-lowering drug an inventor? Is a biologist who designs a test for resistance to a new pathogen in trout an inventor? Is a writer an inventor? Where is inventing an important part of success in a person’s job – even if they don’t think of themselves as an ‘inventor’? Did you know that Uncle Owen has invented processes and contraptions to further his research? Does that make him an inventor of sorts? Would a person who creates a new computer language be an inventor, a linguist or ‘merely’ a computer programmer?
Yoda: “Powerful you have become Dooku, the Dark Side I sense in you.”
Count Dooku: ”I have become more powerful than any Jedi. Even you.”
[Dooku shoots Sith lighting at Yoda who effortlessly deflects it away]
Yoda: “Much to learn, you still have.”
Star Wars II: Attack of the Clones
I wonder if Count Dooku relied a little too heavily on his Sith Lord’s praises while learning about the Dark Side of the Force, because in the end he got a little cocky. It’s a common enough danger, I suppose, when your entire feedback loop is a single person. You read the book, fill in the worksheets, write the paper, ace the exam. Ta-da! You’ve won a 4.0, an A+, a custom-made light-saber, or a smiley-faced sticker that says, “You’re a star.” If he never wandered off to find out more about the topic on his own, he’d never realize how much there was left to learn on the subject.
Teaching myself leaves me with a perpetual sense of wonder about how much I still have to learn about a topic. It’s one of the reasons that I love educating myself; I get to dive into something with both arms wide open to all the material I can find related to the subject matter (and then some). Books, videos, stories, textbooks, iTunesU audio/video/podcast materials, children’s books, newspapers, periodicals, music, cookbooks and foreign food wrappers. You name it and I’ve probably used it.
You wouldn’t believe my Dutch language bookshelf – it’s absolutely bursting at the seams. I’ve pulled so many things from the library in the Dutch language that my favorite librarian pulled me aside once to ask if I was planning to move to The Netherlands soon. I wish. Now that would really speed my process along!
Currently, I’m digging into adolescent development, American colonial history, astronomy, assorted memoirs, US geography, the ever present Dutch language, and spring cleaning. OK, I’m not exactly ‘learning’ about spring cleaning but I’m certainly digging into it. I’m considering having Padawan Learner teach me a little on the piano. I think he’d like doing that and I’d love to learn.
UPDATE: Doh! Dad Windu also wants to learn to play the piano and has beaten me to the piano and is now pecking out (in an increasingly quicker and more melodious manner) the song that Padawan Learner was just playing earlier. I guess I going to have to wait a bit longer.
“Don’t worry. The Force will guide us.” - Qui-Gon Jinn, Star Wars I: The Phantom Menace
Bookkeeping would probably have been a perfect fit for me. I like column A and column B to line up in neat little rows, with matching totals at the end. I enjoy doing our taxes. Planning our annual budget is relaxing for me. Here’s the total minimum income. Here’s the annualized, regular expenses. Here’s what we can reasonably expect to spend in the following categories, based on the past several years’ average. Here’s what we must put away in various savings categories. And the rest is gravy (sometimes a pretty watery gravy, but still gravy). Ta Da. I stand with arms upraised in victory and all around me cheer.
Then again, when I travel or have time to just relax on a weekend, I like to go into things only minimally planned. I hope we do these things this weekend. We should try to see that while we’re here. There’s so many interesting things in this town, I wonder what’s close to our hotel?
Unfortunately, I sometimes try to force a bookkeeping mentality too firmly onto our homeschooling journey. Give me an annual planning book and a dozen, sharp No. 2 pencils and I become a methodical, planning machine. The Schedule, developed in late spring, decends into a mathematical formula. There are 129 lessons and 31 quizzes; that’s 3.7 math lessons and 1 quiz a week to finish on time. One group of vocab words a week to finish on time. Forty-five pages a day in Robinson Crusoe to finish on time. One drawing lesson, three times a week, to finish on time.
On time, on time, on time. It is a haunting refrain that begins to lull me to sleep each fall. I become the White Rabbit who appears muttering, “Oh dear! Oh dear! I shall be too late!” The Schedule is in ever present danger of dominating our homeschool life. It’s written down on orderly blocks in My Planner. It’s The Schedule. Of course we must finish this lesson today, it’s on The Schedule!
Yes, I struggle with my natural planner personality and have to actively remember not to only have “output-focused” days. How many pages were written? How many problems worked out? How many minutes practiced? The Schedule gremlins whisper cloyingly.
Hurry up.
Get this done.
Move onto those.
Finish before lunch.
Don’t bother with that, it’ll take too much time.
Put it away.
Stand up.
Sit down.
Fight, fight, fight.
I’m making myself let go, albeit slowly, of the “and onto the next thing” mentality. I am striving to maintain the real goal of a few things done well each day, rather than several things marginally. What’s that line about “the sins of the fathers”? I’m sure any theologian worth his salt would say that it applies to mothers too. What’s a secular equivalent? Monkey see, monkey do? That sure is what it seems like right now. Padawan Learner has developed a real clock focus since we started back up this fall, to the detriment of his enjoyment and (sometimes) his actual learning of the material he’s using. Thankfully, I’m getting better at catching myself and at noticing when he starts to put The Schedule ahead of actually learning anything too.
Maybe, instead of playing music, my alarm clock should say, “Your planner is a great tool, but it’s only a tool.” No public or private school teacher, nor any homeschooling mom or dad, has ever stayed perfectly on schedule. Kids get sick. Adults get sick. Mishaps happen. Relatives arrive. Stuff comes up. Learning is slower than you thought it would be. Learning is faster than you ever thought possible. The materials you spent so much time researching are wholly over their heads, despised or woefully inadequate. The project you just knew was going to be hit holds less enthusiasm than a teenage girl’s, “What.ev.er.” Life happens whether we plan for it or not.
Ultimately, I believe that simply by lovingly and consistantly doing whatever I can to help Padawan Learner learn and love to learn, he will still learn more than if he was one of 25 kids in a classroom dictated by everyone else’s pace, a few kids needs and high-stakes testing. I believe that would be the case even if I chucked it all and returned to complete and total child-led unschooling. Play. Build. Read aloud as long as he’ll let us. He would still learn a ton, but probably not sentence diagramming or Latin.
“Use the force, Luke.” Obi-Wan Kenobi, Star Wars IV: A New Hope
Today was our first day of the 2008-2009 homeschooling year. Yes, we’re a bunch of traditionalist homeschool scheduling ninnies. Unschooling dropouts. Evil curriculum slaves. Creativity squelching automatons. Or are we?
Here’s your quick answer: Actually, we’re not.
Yes, we do keep to a roughly traditional school year, but we push back the start a bit to enjoy the nice September weather a bit longer (It was cold and rainy all day today. The perfect day to start. Score.) and end at July since June has for the past several years been cold and rainy here and no fun to play outside in. BUT we do M-F lessons for 7 weeks, taking every Wednesday afternoon off for other fun stuff, and then we take a week off to relax and recharge.
We think unschooling is a great way to learn – and deep down might even consider ourselves to be closet unschoolers, since learning is never forced on Padawan Learner. He has a full say in what we cover, our schedule, and if he does or does not want help from moment to moment, day to day, and topic to topic. If we’re really screaming along on something and don’t want to stop, we don’t. Other things just get pushed back for another day. If something is just a brink wall, though, we move on to something else. No sense in making ourselves crazy. However… Dad Windu and I also have a full say in these things. We all bring ourpoints, concerns, wants and wishes to the planning table and figure it out. Maybe not all at one time or in one place, but everyone gets their say eventually. For example, I have been gently suggesting piano lessons for 5 years. Padawan Learner has not been interested, but this year when I brought it up, he said, “Hmmm,” and decided to give it a chance. After his first lesson, he was hooked and I couldn’t get him off the keyboard for a week straight. It was finally the right time. He might never have considered the piano on his own since we don’t own a piano and neither Dad Windu or I play the instrument (we ended buying a keyboard after his first lesson), but I’ve watched how he moves his fingers and his body listening to music and I had a feeling it would be a good fit for him.
Yup. We use curriculum. Some of it is homeschooler intended, some of it is schoolroom intended, some of it was never intended to be used as curriculum in the first place. WooHoo. We pick and choose what we want and need. We ignore pages that are irrelevant. We add items that we think are missing. We skip the idiotic. We mock mercilessly all busywork.
As for being creativity squelching automatons. Well, I guess you’ll just have to figure that one out for yourself.
Happy learning, everyone, today and everyday.
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