Jon says "there's a beautiful butterfly. What's that plant they like so much?"
I say "It's a butterfly bush."
"I know it has butterflies on it, what kind of plant is it?"
"It's a butterfly bush."
"There's no need to get snippy."
It's a butterfly bush.
After I posted last week about needing to introduce more structure into our learning lives I received a concerned email from my mom.
Hey,
Do you mean that with homeschooling you "teach" the same all year round and have no unstructured months where you learn as you go ?
mom
and it became clear to me that a) I have a tendency to assume my language is universal, when really not everyone knows what I mean when I mean it, and b) I have no idea what I'm doing and sometimes I post without thinking things through clearly. I answered that there just isn't a yes or no answer to that question. The long answer is probably a little philosophical, a little ideological, a little opinionated, so read on if you want.
One of the reasons we are homeschooling is that we believe learning should occur all year long, so yes, we learn (and "teach," I suppose, although I tend to think of it more as "learning together") all year round. The current public school method is based on an archaic system developed during the industrial age and the subsequent push for educational reform (link). At that time kids needed a safe place to go (and to be trained to do, not think) during the days (while their parents were doing, not thinking). Before the reform urban schools were an eleven month process (and rural schools were in during the summer and winter, but out during the spring and fall planting and harvesting seasons). But there was no air conditioning, and cities were hot and dirty during the summer, so after the reform public school was out during the summer months. The winter/summer learning discrepancy is an artificially imposed one, and that is part of the process that makes learning the enemy; By confining learning to a schoolroom and a school day and a school year we take away its authenticity, and if we, in all earnestness, ask kids to accept that bit of inauthenticity from us, how can we expect them to treat any of our other "lessons" with a respect that is due only to truth?
Then, about that dangerous "structure" word I should probably have been more clear, because when I say structure I don't mean sitting at a table doing math, reading, social studies, etc. for x many hours in a day. And I don't mean doing the same thing day in and day out all year long. But some people really benefit from knowing what to expect, and what is expected of them. Without some kind of structure I lose my patience more, and I think Calvin pushes buttons more when that starts happening. So what structure means to me is having a plan, even if it's a loose one. It does means that Calvin can expect to have quiet reading time every day (usually right after lunch when we're sleepy anyway), and he knows that he's expected to practice, or at least play, the piano every day, and complete at least three journal entries every week, more if he so desires. And by "structure" I also don't mean inflexibility, and it certainly doesn't preclude learning as we go. More likely it embraces it, giving us landmarks around which we create our chosen paths of learning. In fact, it's the matter of adapting those landmarks to what we "learn as we go" that gives them their authenticity, and enriches the things we explore.
We will never stop discussing and investigating the things we come across in life because that's just the way we live. Calvin is suddenly showing an interest in dinosaurs, following a great program at the library this morning. So we checked out books while we were there (for the reading time that we know we have at home), we made a plan to visit the museum next week, and maybe the zoo, and we made a list of things we wanted to know, and talked about where to find the information. We will write about what we're learning (in the journals we keep each week). If during that time he loses interest, or we discover something else he wants to learn about instead, we'll talk about whether we finish the dinosaur plan first, or change directions, but the usual landmarks will remain—the journal, the quiet reading time, the piano, etc. And again, as I've mentioned before, our homeschooling method is still under construction, and probably will be for all of its life, and I reserve the right to change my mind.
homeschooling, learning PaleoJoe was at the library today. If you're not familiar with PaleoJoe, which we weren't and likely neither are you, he's exactly what he sounds like: an energetic, entertaining, real, live paleontologist, complete with stereotypical hat. The beard suited him quite nicely, too.
PaleoJoe is a local author, and between book tours (or probably the other way) he's at a site in Utah, digging for dinosaurs. PaleoJoe had just the right amount of scientific information to share, mixed with just the right flavor of humor to make it lively and absorbable. We learned a lot. I, for one, had heard that new thought on the T-Rex paints him as a scavenger or opportunistic hunter, but PaleoJoe gave us all the great arguments for why that would be true. Just ask Calvin and he will likely tell you about that carnivore's poor eyesight, good sense of smell, and brain shape matching that of the scavenging vulture, the opposite of the super hunting eagle. There's a bit about the tiny arms, too, and the danger of running or lunging after the prey you are stalking if you have no arms with which to catch yourself if you fall. We also explored the theory of the great die off and the effects of the volcanic ash from a super eruption.
PaleoJoe brought with him replicas of fossils he'd found, and also so fun dinosaur puppets. A velociraptor with hair? Well, no, but very fine feathers that resemble hair, yes.
PaleoJoe also brought some of his books with him, because this was a book tour, and we are suckers for books.
After PaleoJoe Calvin has an enlivened interest in dinosaurs and digging. Later in the afternoon we visited the park by my parents' house and discovered great dig sites.
And femurs and teeth.
And then, because it's make-believe and can take us anywhere we want, he climbed into his futuristic lab and used the computer to create images of the dinosaurs whose bones he'd found, and shipped them off to schools world-wide for other kids to discover.
dinosaurs, learning, library, make-believe, science Last night, after a nice dinner on the deck, we watered everything in the yard because it wasn't supposed to rain for three more days and things were looking pretty dry.
So tonight it's raining.
I guess that should be a good reminder that no matter how much planning we do, life and nature have their own way of going and we just have to go along with it. I've mentioned, time and again, moments when I've needed to remind myself to go with the flow that Calvin is creating in his own learning world. Lately I think I've gotten off the path again, and being lost in the woods of malcontent is not a fun place to be. Blame it on lack of sleep, or on summer heat, but being lost in those woods has made me stop to take stock of the surroundings and reorient with the compass.
And since a metaphor can only go so far, I've actually been revisiting my beliefs about schooling and learning. As much as I believe that unschooling is or can be a beautiful thing, it's along that path in particular that we seem to lose our way. Sitting with Jon after bedtime tonight I was lamenting what I saw as failures on my part and he pointed out that both Calvin and I seemed much more focused and content when we had more structure around us, like when we were trying out the Five in a Row curriculum, for instance. That may be me, or it may be Calvin, but since we are learning together I don't think it matters. Most importantly I now have to embrace the true meaning at the heart of unschooling, which is to simply go with the flow, and right now our flow is taking us towards a slightly more structured path. We'll still be among the trees, but maybe it will be in a coniferous plantation instead of a wild woods.
It's a beautiful soaking rain outside right now, the kind that falls straight from the sky in soft, drenching droplets. This is fine because rain is so much more beautiful and calming than a sprinkler, and because no matter how much artificial watering I do, only a good, natural rain can really enliven the garden.
Plus this way the rain barrels are being replenished.
homeschooling 
Eight years of marriage means that you celebrate with clean laundry and an easy meal at home, didn't you know? And sparkling wine to boot.
life, traditions 
