Asking questions

Z has now been homeschooling for almost all of one academic year. So, what's my grade? I have been really good at exposing him at new material. Which, really means, that he has been good at it. He loves to learn and readily soaks up information. He is particularly enamored with science, math, and fantasy fiction. In science, he asks questions I can't answer. The cool thing is that I work in a building full of science professors, so if I can't answer it, someone else can (if there is an answer). In math, we had a rough start, but were able to end the formal academic year where we needed to be. We made a lot of concessions along the way in how he does the work. Lots of repetition - no. Lots of problems - no. Lots of new material - yes. Practical applications - yes. But, ultimately, he enjoys problem-solving. Reading - he would read a VCR manual if he were stuck in a room with one. He reads easily and very fast. His retention is good (kind of scary sometimes when he drops little factoids he picked up here or there). Music - We aren't great shakes here, but he takes piano lessons every week and practices some. So, he is learning about music. Where I need improvement - history, geography, and art. History - I feed him history books and take him to historical places. But, the books generally don't really light him up. He soaks up the places we visit. Geography - I bought a "really fun" geography curriculum - yeah, not so much. Art - I sporadically point him in the direction of art materials (and, I've spent a boatload on stuff). But, I am not real strong in ideas about directed art. We stunk it up this year in writing. Writing is his biggest challenge. Physically putting pencil to paper is hard for him. It is also hard for him to capture his ideas quickly enough before they get garbled. So, he is generally frustrated before he begins. We are working on his keyboard skills - as I finally felt comfortable writing when I could comfortably type. We are working on small chunks. We work on my helping him organize ideas, then he makes sentences of them. But, frankly, he is behind in his writing skills. His vocabularly, spelling, and use of words is fine. His ability to express himself on paper, though, is nearly nil. I suspect that some of this will come easier if I let him grow into himself a little. Or, maybe I am just letting him slip further? It is hard to say. Overall, though, I still want to homeschool next year (he does too). Maybe I'll start to figure him out by then. That is my hope.

Choosing kids for my class.

My kids participate in martial arts training. They work out very hard. They are always expected to do their best and try harder. Sometimes they spar and sometimes they get hurt. I think that this is good, but not because I like fighting. Life is full of bumps and bruises and if you can't learn to get up and dust yourself off, you are going to have a hard time. Mostly, these lessons are a lot of vigorous exercise with a bunch of life lessons interspersed.

• When someone is having a bad day, they are told to regain their focus and let it go during the class - just like you have to in life when your dog just died and you still need to go to work.
• When someone is discouraged because something comes easier to other people; they are told to look straight ahead. "You are only competing against your previous best".
• They are reminded that rocking out the stuff that comes easy to you doesn't test their mettle nearly as much as trying their best at the stuff that comes hardest to them.
• They find that, whatever it is that you are learning, it will come easier to some people than to others. If it is harder for you - you just have to put in the extra effort.
• They find that sometimes the right move, done perfectly, doesn't have the intended consequence. You just have to figure it out from there.
• There is no shortcut around putting in the time and effort.

After a frustrating day of teaching a bunch of distracted kids, the instructor said that his ideal would be to have try-outs and only accept the students that met his ideal of effort and intensity training and showed promise. And, if that ever happened, his school would not be the same place it is now. Ultimately, I think that he would regret it. If he were able to do that... his school would turn out perfectly conditioned and phenomenal fighters. There is no question that his team would be amazing. But, he wouldn't be changing lives anymore.

Here are the kids that need this Sensei the most:

• The boy that doesn't believe that he can succeed.
• The girl that doesn't know how to carry herself in social setttings.
• The boy that doesn't participate in sports because he isn't confident in his abilities.
• The girl that doesn't like her body.
• The boy that doesn't know what to do when someone picks on him.
• The girl that doesn't believe she can succeed in something if she doesn't get it the first time.
• The boy that doesn't connect with his friends except through videogames.
• All of the kids that are easily distracted, unsure of themselves, don't believe in their own power to make decisions, don't value their personal achievements, measure only their failures, and find it hard to value themselves.

I have seen children like these attend this class and slowly find their way to stand up taller. They cry less when they are sparring. They sometimes (even if it isn't always) dust themselves off and fight back when sparring. They find that with time they can do things they thought impossible. They learn that leverage is more important than brute strength (and, if that isn't a metaphor for life, I don't know what is). They find that hard work sometimes does pay off, and they might learn to value themselves.

As a teacher myself, it is really easy sometimes (especially on a frustrating day) to gravitate toward wanting to teach the "A" students. They are receptive, positive, and they get it. But, they would have learned it if a monkey taught them. They might like me and be responsive - but, they don't need me. The kids that need me are the ones whose lives I might change. They can be frustrating. They can be difficult. They can make you stay awake at night - wishing that you teach only the best-of-the-best. But, when you teach the students that need you most, sometimes one of them becomes something that they didn't believe they could. My son will probably never be a top-notch black belt. (But, who knows, anything is possible with enough grit, and he is learning to find that.) What he is learning is to believe in himself. If you truly believe in teaching, you aren't in it to make more people just like you; you are in it to make more people that find the worth in themselves. Whatever that worth is.

Really? I have a blog. How'd that happen?

What a pitiful fuck up. No, really. In my mind I regularly write clever and pithy things to post. But, that's purely theoretical. I suck at applied science (and applied blogging, apparently). I partly blame my homeschooling son. He spends a large portion of his workday (and mine) staring over my shoulder at every word I type and read. So, I actually feel compelled to work when I am at work. Sucks, doesn't it? And, on the topic of homeschooling... field trip today, yippee! So, instead of being ultra-productive... I am catching up on the old blogs and, oh yeah, I had one of those too! Oh, the other person to blame. Yeah, that's me. Here, I am. Just as pathetic as ever. But, saying hello nonetheless. Another field trip tomorrow, maybe more then?

Must work on this cloning thing...

Ok, so I haven't posted anything in months. This is not for lack of content. Over and over things happen that I think - wow, that might be interesting to write about and reflect on later. Things like, my youngest's first year in soccer and his embarassingly terrific team, or the way he gets so excited when the ball comes to him, he forgets to kick it. Things like this whole homeschooling odyssey: the good - moments of wonder and excitement, the bad - hours of playing the rubber pencil game, and the ugly - mostly my temper in the aforementioned moments. Things like B's amazing soccer exploits and his growing ability to achieve academically. Other things like karate, T's awesome new teacher, the science and technology festival on the national mall, and Lego league.

But, start adding this stuff up, man - no wonder I'm so tired. Between the stress of waiting for a personnel thing, and dealing with obstreporous colleagues as program chair, while homeschooling in the back of my office, and keeping that down low while I teach over 100 college students... between getting two kids to piano, keeping an after-school babysitter here (most days, meeting the bus when not), getting a kid to karate three nights a week, another two soccer two, and a third to soccer one, and soccer games Saturday... between getting a kid to Lego team three days a week, reading to the second grade class sometimes, helping with second grade homework, and helping the other kid through his Lego project stuff, and grading college papers... between doing laundry (sometimes), folding mountains of it (rarely), and remembering to feed the kids... between ordering Halloween costumes, dressing kids up, and remembering to feed the dog... at the moment - there just isn't that much left. And, that may explain (partly) why I've put on some weight and hardly ever find time to exercise (and while I generally consider exercise a priority - I am just tapped out).

Don't take this as a statement that I am busier than everyone - frankly, everyone I know is just too damn busy.

I also recognize that I am pretty fortunate. We both have jobs we enjoy, our kids are mostly healthy, we are mostly healthy, and we live in a house we love. Dh is helpful - I am not doing it all alone.

Sorry, there wasn't a point here, just an explanation with a bit of a groan.

Avoiding Boredom and Obsession

So, Z is finding that the days can be long when you aren't shuffling to and from different rooms and juggling which notebooks and books go where when. Also, when you aren't doing worksheets, there is a lot more free time.

What happens with all of this time? Well, Z is definitely more engaged with the family and me in particular. Z is also a little aimless during the day. I believe that we call this "deschooling" and it is a little hard to watch. The goal, from what I gather, is to let boredom guide his choices in finding ways to learn that engage him.

We are walking a tightrope a little though. When he has too much idle time, he sometimes obsesses about weird things and I don't want that to become a habit. We are seeing more fears about random things than usual, and I don't want to give him time to consider fearing random things (usually environmental exposures) to become normal. For example, he took a sip from the fountain this morning and realized it smelled like cleaning chemicals... so, of course he freaked out that he'd been poisoned.

I am trying to help him find things to do such that he doesn't have time to obsess, but not assign random things to do. He (I believe) needs to find his own way here to learn to engage in his own learning. At least, that is my philosophy at this very second.

Finding passion.

So far, Z spends a fair bit of time in my back office with the door closed. I can hear lego's and other toys back there. I can hear him talking to himself and reading. He still isn't doing much writing - but he seems to be learning a bunch (nothing specific - some wiring, some gee whiz, a little of this and that).

Writing something every day is going to be challenge. All week, he has not done that voluntarily. Nor has he put his best effort in. I don't really have currency to dangle except pride in his work.

Maybe this is the issue. One of my bigger emerging goals this year is for Z to discover passion. In karate, his instructor keeps asking me "Does he like this? He seems to be just phoning it in". But, Z claims to love karate, despite looking like he is barely there. The only place he actually seems enthusiastic is when draped over something reading, or when playing Wii or other video/computer games. But that is not really engaged in the world.

Z needs to find something that can inspire him, get him engaged with the outside world, fire him up. He needs to learn to show enthusiasm. If he loves something - people should know it.

Our start: Homeschool

Well, we went to my office on Sunday to set it up for him. Z set up his beanbag chair, lapdesk, notebooks, history wall chart, and other paraphernalia. He was so eager to get started, he sat right down with a notebook and started writing a story - like, actually writing... without a cattle prod up his butt. Ok, only two short sentences, but - hey!



On Monday we had the FIRST DAY OF HOMESCHOOL. I feel kind of awkward there, it is known, but not widely, that I am homeschooling Z at my office. At any rate, I took him to the library and got him into the system so that he can borrow books without me. He borrowed a science book about experiments for kids proposed by Thomas Edison. Then, he pored through the entire book through the day - discussing serial and paralell circuitry, constructing batteris out of lemons, and making candy. Then, he felt like he hadn't done any "school" so he found someone (Heron or Hero of Hellenistic Greece) and studied this mechanical/mathematical genius for awhile. We struggled over his one real "assignment" - writing - but, he got there by adding to paltry sentences to his story from the previous day. When asked what school he did, he said "none". But when asked what he learned, he talked our ears off. Interesting that he didn't equate any of his reading or discussion to "school".



Tuesday, B was home sick from school. So, I had to work from home with two boys - one sick and out-of-sorts, and one that is supposed to be homeschooling. First, I gave them pliers, wire strippers/clippers, a battery, and a lightbulb to work out some of the experiments he'd read about. They bickered and moaned (too may chiefs, not enough indians). I tried to help for awhile... I put on my black-and-white stripes for awhile and got terribly frustrated trying to simultaneously work and referee... finally, I went to J's office downstairs, shut the door, and told them only to bother me if the house was on fire or someone was bleeding. Now, it is basically bedtime and Z is finally at the table supposed to be writing, but is completely distracted by a costume catalog that came in the mail today - I shall take it in a moment if he can't get it together on his own.



So, the sum of our experiences, I was pleased to see Z engaged with real people and nonfiction for brief bits. I saw a lot more completely distracted crazy behavior today while jockeying with his brother. But, without the stress of a traditional school, I see a lot more of the Z that I have always known and loved. I have to stay patient with Z's relentless questions (if only to point out that I am busy and will look later) in that he is schooling where I work - and I really have to work. On the other hand, even putting him off, I probably give him more attention than any teacher has been able to. We are kind of "de-schooling" now - figuring out the difference between School (capital S) and learning (which is what homeschool, to me, is all about). Finally, this child clearly loves the learning part dearly. He hates writing and has to learn to start projects like that that he hates (hence, my one requirement - write something, anything, every day).



While some day it will be possible, if only the kid could voice to paper somehow - he can talk through the most amazing ideas, but is completely stymied about putting them on paper. I can relate and went through the same thing until I learned to touch-type (another goal this year for Z). One small segment of our discussion was a verbal "essay" on how the printed book is dying and how sad it is for books that are out-of-press and what electronic books may mean to changing the style of how people read and hence, perhaps, changes in the complexity or degree of challenge that we might expect in our reading in the future. How sad, my nine-year-old thinks if the type of complex, braided storylines that he so loves won't be cherished by a less-patient electronic readership. What a cool nine-year-old to worry about such things. I sure do love this kid.