The Impulse to Soar

Happy New Year everyone. Huh, I feel a little strange saying Happy New Year when I never got a chance to say Happy Thanksgiving or Merry Christmas, but there you have it. Such is life. Ce la vi (la vi) and que serra (I can sing it but I’m not sure how to spell it). I hope both your Thanksgiving and your Christmas and whatever other holidays you may celebrate were peaceful and joyous and full of love.

Through a series of events that I don’t really want to go into right now, our family’s life has been turned upside down over the past couple of months and we now have found ourselves back in Montana (this is a good thing), in a strange and disconcerting stage of employment and residence limbo. How grateful I am that, for me, home is not defined by the walls and space I sleep in, but by the loved ones who are with me, and whom I carry with me always in my heart: CameraDad, Chickadee, and Chickadoo.

I am not now, and have not been recently in a very ‘blog’ kind of place. But things are looking up. I’m remembering who I was, who I am, and who I still can be. If there are any of you readers out there who followed me here from my old blog, anomaly room, I’m sure you’re wondering where those perky, maniacally creative, happy posts went. I’m working on it. I seem to have this problem in my life with congruity. . . with bringing all the various pieces of myself together to make a whole. I tend to focus on one part of who I am and forget the rest, only to find that I need those parts just as much as ever. Or maybe it’s just that I focus on myself a little too much overall Well, 2010 will bring more opportunities to soar, and I will not falter or fail. I’m hoping to see some long-sought after dreams and goals come to fruition (there I go, always looking for an excuse to use that word). And I hope this New Year will see your dreams coming true as well.

Love to All,

AM

The Little Bit Scary People by Emily Jenkins. Go get it!

Okay, I’m getting fairly annoyed with my camera and its whole “No, I don’t feel like uploading today” attitude. I have actual images of actual (not available in stores) adorable children and their sewing projects (they each made a pillow from favorite shirts they’ve outgrown ) to share! All I have to say is humph. Moving on. . .

Our attentions this past week have, unfortunately, been mainly on getting the kids healthy as they have both had the flu. It was supposed to be Dinosaur Week, complete with an overnight trip to Moab, but Jurassic, Paleozoic, and Cretaceous had to take a backseat to Motrin, Tamiflu, and homemade honey cough syrup . That’s okay. We can reschedule the dinosaurs.

The week before last was Building Week here at Learning Adventure HQ. Chickadoo, Chickadee and I spent the week stacking and arranging Mega blocks, wooden alphabet blocks, and Imagi-Bricks in a hundred different ways. We read about and looked at pictures of famous buildings around the world, from the tallest to the most recognizable to the oldest still standing (this is apparently a touchy subject among archeological nerd-types) (and I mean nerd in a good way:)). The week ended on a high note with a mom-sanctioned mud activity: We built our very own model rock-and-mortar house, using soil from our very own garden, grass from our very own lawn, and water from our very own hose to mix the mud mortar. And you know what? It worked! We can’t move the house from its place in the backyard for fear of it falling apart, but ancient peoples would not have had to worry about that. In my modern, technologically oriented world I am agog and I am aghast (is Marius in love at last?) that historians did not just make up tales about families building homes from mud and rock so that we would have something interesting to read about- no! The process actually works. A house can be made of rocks and mud! No general contractor or Home Depot credit card necessary! Boy, I sure hope the kids learned as much as I did

And now: Some of Chickadee’s artwork from Building Week.

And just a couple of my recent favorites.

The baby bird hatched, so that’s why there is an egg yolk in the nest. 5 yr old reasoning

Keep soaring. Love, AM

I have been trying to keep a journal of our family’s homeschool activities; the songs we sing, the stories we read, the crafts/ handskills we work on, the focus of our Circle Time, etc., each day. This has not been working out. I think I’ve just done so much typing- writing lately that the old school method of pen and paper seems devastatingly slow. So, my new plan is to blog- at least once a week- about the amazing minds and spirits of Chickadee and Chickadoo and the beautiful wonder-moments that have lately filled our days.

I’ve also been thinking about sharing some of the treasures we’ve been finding during our weekly library excursions. I know that there are websites where one can make a list, complete with photos, of favorite books, but frankly, Scarlet, I don’t have time for another social website in my life. So. . . that’s another list for the blog!

Here’s a brief recap of a couple of my favorite learning moments of the last few weeks, along with a mad-dash through some tomes that deserve more praise and more time than I am able to give. Then I’ll consider myself caught up with all the things I’m bursting to share (but not really, because I’m blessed with more than I could ever fully realize).

Book: This is Just to Say by Joyce Sidman. Have you ever been walking through the library/bookstore and suddenly spotted a book that-by its title and/or cover art alone- captivates you? Makes your stomach jump and your heart pound like you’re in the junior high cafeteria and he (or she) looked your way? I hugged this book before I even opened it. This anthology of apology poetry is named for a poem by William Carlos Williams entitled This is Just to Say and it is one of my all-time favorite poems. I can’t fully explain why. It’s sparse. And nothing profound. But. . . at the same time, I can taste the plum and I can feel the cold of the icebox and I just know that he-Williams- really, really truly loved the person he was taking the time to apologize to. How does he do that with so few words? Sidman’s tribute does the original poem justice, and touched my heart as well.

Lesson: Week-long Moon Unit (not Zappa). We made a Lunar Phases chart, did some night-sky watching, read some Native American mythology about the moon, watched a great little short film by Henry Selick called Moongirl, and visited our local university-owned observatory. We also learned to spell and write MOON, and sign the phrase “The moon and stars shine at night” in ASL.

Lesson: In learning letters (mainly for Chickadoo) Waldorf style, we use a fairy tale, usually a Grimm Brothers or something else equally rich in detail and symbolism, and, after reading it several times, draw the story with some key element shaped like a letter of the alphabet. Does that make sense? For example, Little Red Riding Hood becomes the letter R (imagine a side view of a little girl with her hood up) and the cottage of the Seven Dwarfs becomes the letter A.

Book: A Collection of Just So Stories by Rudyard Kipling (note: this is an abridged version of the original, but I felt the illustrations were intriguing enough to make up for that. I still plan to seek out the original, but highly recommend this collection). I like to read to the children- well, that’s it. I like to read to the children. But I really like to read them stories that are beautiful worded, imaginative explanations of the way things are. Fables, myths, folklore, etc.  What I particularly love about these Rudyard Kipling stories is that Kipling wrote them for his own daughter and every once in a while the narrative is interjected with his endearment for her, “My best beloved.” That personal reference gives the tales an intimate feeling, without detracting from the sense of adventure inherent in each one.

Books: Poppy, Ragweed, and Poppy and Rye by Avi. This is a series of middle-grade chapter books that I’ve been reading aloud to the kids at bedtime each night for several weeks. We love them! To me, there is no truer indication of a writer’s talent than the emotional reaction of readers to his/her words. These stories are about mice. And an occasional porcupine, beaver, or cat. But  I have laughed, I have clenched the book with white knuckles and gritted my teeth, and, yes, I have even cried. Now, granted, I’m not that tough of a walnut to crack, but still. . .the man can write.

This week is Building Week. We’re making a model of a pioneer/ settler type house with rocks, twigs, and homemade, mixed- from- mud- mortar. Stay tuned. . .

AM

Validation

Funny, romantic, and uplifting. To quote my good friend Sandi, “If you don’t smile when you’re watching this, then your face is on too tight.”

You’ve waited, you’ve watched, and now the day has finally come. The world premier of “Friends Are the Best,” written by, directed by, and starring my Chickadee.

Thoughts on this project: I’ve always believed that the best way to teach our children to be creative is to value their creations. Letting Chickadee take the helm on this puppet show without me saying, “now, this is how it should go,” has only reinforced this belief. If we want them to be responsible, we must give them responsibility. If we want them to take initiative, we must provide them with a safe and supportive context in which to follow through. If we love them, they will learn to love others, including themselves

Some of you may know that this summer was the first year CD and I tried our hands at vegetable gardening. We had grown a few tomatos in pots on the back deck in Montana, so we were ready, right? I present to you, friends, family and adoring public, The Bounty of the Harvest:

(This is where a photo of six lovely, shiny green bell peppers would appear

if my camera would cooperate with my computer. Use your imagination.)

Yessiree, those beautiful green bells cost us $100, weeks of backbreaking labor, 2 slivers, 1 beesting, and a nasty smooshed chrysallis incident (Chickadee found it, Chickadoo squished it). They had better be good.

But, from life’s ups and downs we must learn, young grasshopper. And what I have learned from the garden experience is this:

1. Gardening is easier in Montana, where the soil is not made of iron and the mercury never gets in the triple digits.

2. Lettuce tastes better when it comes mixed with carrots and red cabbage in a handy little resealable bag with croutons on the side (yes, we also got some lettuce and it was warm and slimy- should lettuce have a milky sap in the middle?).

3. If I had to choose between a personal chef, a maid, or a gardener. . . well, I’d probably go with the maid but the gardener would be seriously tempting.

On the upside of this harvest time of year, the kids and I did a little cheffing ourselves today with the twenty (count’em) pounds of peaches our sweet neighbors brought over. The plan was to blanch them, peel them, slice them, freeze them, enjoy yummy peaches all winter long. So. . . we made jam. That happens to plans sometimes

I have only made jam once before, but I have to say, it gives me a little thrill when I flip the jars right-side-up (we use the hot, inverted bottle method- no canner) and hear that little metallic *ping*! I get this, Wow- I made that!  I made that and it worked! kind of feeling. You know what I mean? It’s just satisfying. It would probably be even more satisfying if we had grown the peaches ourselves, but you know how that story would end. A busted ladder, tree beetles, and an everlasting black thumb of shame.

I’ll stick with making jam.

Exploration. Experimentation. Trial and Error. The absolute most important element of teaching my children has always been showing them that learning never ends by continuing to learn and grow myself. Sometimes this means looking at the way I’ve expressed my feelings, then looking at the way someone else has expressed their feelings, and concluding that I’m not as brilliant as I sometimes think I am. That said, this link is to a blog by a homeschooling mother whose words are the words that I want to write, but better. These posts, particularly the two called ‘Dragon Park’ and ‘5 Years Old’ speak to my heart and my head, echoing what I have been deficient in expressing here.

So for those of you who don’t read the comments that come after the posts, and/or are not me and therefore not privy to all my conversations that happen outside of Blogland, I’d like to clarify a few things about what I last wrote.

1. No, I do not think that everyone should home school (did I ever say that? um, no). Every child and every family is different. Parents need to have the confidence to assess their children, their time, and their local educational opportunities to determine what is best for their children.

2. No, I don’t judge you for sending your child to public school. See above (exasperated sigh). All I was really trying to say in that oh-so-shocking (apparently) first paragraph was that I don’t understand how any parent who loves their child could doubt their ability to teach their child (not necessarily in a home school context).

3. I’m talking about the CURRENT state of pub.ed. Specifically the No Child Left Behind Act. Things were different when I was a kid, though the system has never been without flaws.

4. The most valuable experiences of my public education were those that happened in elective classes like Drama, Choir, Orchestra, and Art. And, in case you weren’t aware, the arts are not exclusively available through public schools. I could list off the top of my head a dozen places/groups/clubs where home schooled children could participate in such activities.

And 5. Well, actually, I don’t have a 5. I just like odd numbers better than even

As a side note, and by that I mean an end note, Chickadee has really taken to our  lessons. Her mind is alive and buzzing with questions, she thrills in finding out the answers, using her imagination, and, of course, imparting all of her new-found knowledge to Chickadoo. I may (eventually, when I have time) add a blog page just for lesson logs, fun moments, and great projects we’ve done. Then you all can share the joy

Love, AM

“So, you home-school? How do you do that?”

And ninety percent of the time I look at these incredible women, friends of mine, acquaintances, or total strangers, and wonder how they cannot know- or cannot rightly esteem- the power of their own maternal instincts in the education and nurturing of the children they love. And the ability of their children to guide them- to let them know when they are ready to learn. It really seems that simple to me. Every parent wants their child to love learning, to embrace their potential, to independently create meaning in their chosen path of life, right?  I suppose it speaks to my ego-centricity that I have such a hard time understanding how anyone can NOT come to the same conclusions that I have: That public education, in its current state of  Standardized-Testopia, simply cannot meet those ends. But that’s not what I logged on to write about.  (Really? Really.) Just let me climb down off my soap-box, pull up a cozy seat in the sharing circle and I’ll get right to the point:

This week has been a something of a milestone in our family as it marked the time when Chickadee, had we not chosen to home-school, would have started Kindergarten. And because I can’t pinpoint the time period that began our children’s home education so much as I can pinpoint the time when I realized that we had already begun the journey, the list-maker in me cries out in need of an ‘official’ start to commemorate Chickadee’s ‘first’ day of school. So tomorrow is it.  We’ll go down to the craft store and get a big, blank sketchbook to use as our Main Lesson Book (for those of you familiar with the Waldorf method), I’ll take her picture, and we’ll dive into the weekly schedule (which is very similar to the weekly schedule we already live by, but with some adjustments). So what I really logged on to write about tonight are the two educational philosophies/ schools of thought that we will be using as maps along our learning road. It’s important for family members and friends (and adoring public)  to understand the choice of the homeschooling family, to be supportive and not compare children who are educated in one way with children who are educated in another. I know I can count on you all for that

1. The Waldorf (Steiner) method of education is based on the work of Rudolph Steiner, a German anthroposophist who died in 1925. For those who don’t know, anthroposophy “holds that the human being is fundamentally a spiritual being and that all human beings deserve respect as the embodiment of their spiritual nature”. (www.waldorfanswers.org) The best resource I have found on the web, as far as clear-cut answers concerning the definition of Waldorf education, is waldorfanswers.org.  In my own words, I would say that the Waldorf method nurtures the spirit of childhood, planting the seeds of curiousity and creatvity in the fertile soil of goodness, beauty and truth.

There is only one aspect of the Waldorf philosophy that doesn’t sit quite right with me, or I guess I should say, just doesn’t mesh with what I know about my own children, and that is the pronounced age-qualified divisions in the Waldorf stages of learning. Birth to 7, 7-14, and 14-21 are the divisons (see Waldorf 101 at www.christopherushomeschool.org -not the best website, but a good article), and bypassing these checkpoints  is strongly discouraged. On the one hand, I agree. Children who are pushed to be too intellectual too early will either end up frustrated and feeling worthless because they can’t cut it, or will burn out and give up without ever having discovered the joy of learning something for themselves. But, on the other hand, shouldn’t the child -the individual spirit that can’t be pigeon-holed – be the guide? Chickadee recognized the letters of the alphabet when she was two. She knew (without any pushing from us) the sound each letter of the alphabet makes when she was 2 1/2. Now she’s five and she likes to sound out words, try writing them, or spelling them with fridge magnets. Chickadoo watches her in fascination and demands to know the meaning of every printed word he can get his hands on. I don’t make them do this, we don’t have practice sessions (unless they ask), but I’m not going to stop them just because I am enamored with an educational movement that says ‘don’t teach children under seven to read.’

So that’s where number 2 comes in.

2. The Montessori Method. You’ve probably heard of this one, named for Maria Montessori, the first woman to recieve an MD in Italy. Montessori emphasizes child-directed learning through a hands-on process of discovery. From what I have read (and I don’t claim to be an expert) , Montessori is actually very similar to Waldorf, but with more of a focus on the child as the guide. Both encourage the oral story-telling tradition as essential to the development of language skills, both use arts and crafts and observation of the natural world to develop what Waldorf calls The Unfoldment of the Child and Montessori calls The Absorbent Mind. Both focus on early tangible math skills, given that math is relevant, functional, and makes sense to the young mind (I have two eyes, ten fingers, etc.).  Check out www.montessori-intl.org for more answers on Dr. Montessori and her methodology.

So, put ‘em together and it’s better than peanut-butter and bananas.  And the fact that I get to be the teacher of these two incredible beings, well that’s  the chocolate chips on the side.

I welcome questions, revel in compliments and tolerate criticism Love, AM