When school gets in the way...

It occurred to me today that school (for Colin) always seems to be in the way of our learning. Seriously. As I wrote the post yesterday about cool learning moments, I reflected on the fact that Colin still seems to do most of his learning at home. I know he spends 6 hours a day at school, and I'm aware that the new curriculum is "play-based learning," but I don't seem much of the fruits of all that time spent there. His favourite station at school is Lego. He has a huge bucket of that here, and has much more time to build intricate creations. At school he barely gets going before the little bell is rung that signals moving onto another station.

And when was the last time a kindergarten teacher explained a concept like "disperse" or "divert?" When was the last time a kindergarten teacher simply sat with a child and let that child's mind wander over questions, posing them, mulling over the answers, and then asking more questions? At school, he doesn't get to listen to me playing the guitar in the background, have scripture discussions over lunch, or spend the morning outside simply because the weather is beautiful today.

There is so much Colin wants to learn and discover, and I find myself constantly rushing him onto the bus and off to school where he isn't really learning much at all. It's like we put learning on pause for six hours, and then press resume once he comes back home.

I know I don't have as much time as I would like to devote to teaching Colin. With a baby and a toddler in tow, Colin generally gets the last of my attention, since the other two often have some sort of immediate need. But I can see just a year or two down the road that we could spend hours discovering the world around us, the four of us together. The world is our classroom! Just as long as school doesn't get in the way...

What did you do in school today?

"I dunno."
"Stuff."
"Things."
"I can't remember."
"I'm not sure."

What on earth did you do for the six hours you were gone???

That's the question on my mind every day. Colin is finishing up week two at school, and I have very little idea of what exactly goes on there! He was never one to divulge about school, but at least last year I picked him up every day and the teacher always had one or two comments about the goings-on of the day. It was fun to here the anecdotes, cute stories, funny lines, and amazing activities in which Colin participated. This year I feel so distant from it all.

Every day I varied my question, trying in vain to prompt some response. "Tell me one thing you did today?" "What activity centre did you start at?" (Always and only Lego, is his response!) "What game did you play in gym?" And I got nothing.

Then, finally, I landed on the right question! "What did you do when you got off the bus this morning?"

And out tumbled 10 minutes worth of a detailed, minute-by-minute account of Colin's school day! I guess the "choose a random moment" was just too abstract for him. Too much going on, not enough of it different or unique to stand out. Victory!

I've also decided that I'm going to try and pick him up from school once a week (hopefully Fridays). That way I can pop into the classroom and just hear from the teacher how the week went. I'm hoping to somehow volunteer in the classroom once a week also, which will also be nice. Today is the first day I'm planning on this, so I'll see how it goes!

Just Caleb and Mom

The wonderful by-product of Colin in school every day has been some wonderful moments with Caleb. I've managed to get Benjamin to sleep for some morning naps, leaving a good hour and a half for Caleb and I to spend time together.

I have a loose idea of some "homeschooling" time, although it is hardly structured nor scheduled. I have a curriculum that teaches letters, their sounds, and includes small service projects. I hope to get to the library once a week with him, to nurse a love and awe of the amount of books out there. We have hundreds of books in our own home library (mostly due to my mother, a retired teacher!), so we have no need to venture out for variety. But Caleb does not have the same innate love of books that Colin does, and so I hope the adventure out might foster something more within him. I also plan on going for a walk every day with him, after Benjamin wakes up and before lunch. The days so easily slip away from me, caught up in dishes and tidying and cleaning and playing. While I agree that free play is important, I want to use this opportunity of one-on-one time to teach Caleb some important early childhood lessons.

I want to teach him to love books and reading. I want him to see how much can be learned from books. I want him to hear wonderful stories and beautiful language. I want to inspire his imagination with illustrations.

I want to teach him to serve others. I want him to think outside of his own little world. I want him to see me reaching out to others, building our little community.

I want to teach him to wonder at the world. I want him to open his eyes and see the magnificence around us. I want him to ask a thousand questions, and I hope my answers will only inspire a thousand more. I want to him gaze around him and see how things work.

I want to teach him a love of music. I want that love to grow from the inside and permeate his life.

There is so much to teach, and I am grateful for this time I have to spend with him.

First day of school

It's hard to let today go by without recording some thoughts. It is another first day of school.

Colin started at his new school. The new school also meant taking a bus. I was not enthralled about the added hour he would be away from home, but the extra hour of naptime for Caleb will do wonders for the atmosphere in our home.

There were a few small bus incidents (like the 2 minutes I thought Colin's bus had arrived at school in the morning, but he wasn't there, and me wondering what to do when the afternoon bus was more than 20 minutes late!), but Colin was overjoyed at being able to ride the bus. All last year he asked if we could move far away from school so he could take the bus. I still have to work out the logistics of the bus stop, because jaywalking one of the town's busiest streets with a baby and pre-schooler in arms in the winter might make my top ten dangerous things to do.

I withstood the urge to follow the bus to school, but accepted James' suggestion to drive to the school (7 minutes away) and meet Colin when he got off. He bounded down the steps surrounded by 4 others boys his age. He gave me a strange look, said hello, and started off down the sidewalk toward the school. "Are these your new friends?" I called after him. He mumbled yes and waved me off.

As for what happened during school hours, that still remains a mystery. I'm hoping a dinner out tonight might jog his memory a little, but I'm not holding my breath. He never did open up much last year. He did mention that there is lego in the classroom, which is a big hit for him.

By far my favourite part of school is the time between getting home and dinner. This is the precious time of the day set aside for a movie, and yet Colin has no interest in watching one. He likes to just dig into his toys, build something out of lego, spend some alone time, play a bit with Caleb. There is no fighting or teasing or yelling. These two by-products of school almost make the 7 hours away worth it!

On that score, I'm not sure how I feel about Colin having school 5 days a week. That's a lot for a 4 year old. I'm pretty sure I won't send Caleb 5 days next year when he starts JK, while he's still only 3 years old. I know I might keep Colin home here and there for a fun outing, or just to spend some time with Caleb and I. But I also can foresee the benefit for Caleb, who never had much time just him and I. Benjamin is well entrenched in morning naps, which will give me a good two hours uninterrupted time together to play and learn.

I've had lots of education ideas swirling around in my mind, but I'll save those for another post. Today I'm just reveling in the back to school moment.

Early education

"Big Bang for Full Day Learning Buck"

Mon Aug 30 2010

Ontario could be missing out on a significant economic payoff by offering a scaled-down version of full-day learning"

I didn't even click into this Toronto Star newspaper article. The tag line says it all. Full day kindergarten for children as young as three years old is nothing more than an economic scheme. Yes, mothers may go back to work early, but can we really say that society has improved since mothers left the home for the workforce? The only reason it is being put in is for an economic stimulus. The most money in the fastest way seems to be the mantra today, with little thought to long-term effects and overall impact on society.

It makes me mad, especially since the majority of media articles cite (and laud) the academic reasons for 6 hours of school for children so young. THERE IS A REASON WHY GRADE 1 IS THE FIRST GRADE! It is because at 6 years old, children are ready for formal learning. Then they added kindergarten for school before first grade. The direct translation is "children's garden." Perhaps if kindergarten was simply that - a place for children to play with friends and explore new things, a voluntary drop-in sort of place, it would be an ideal setting. But instead kindergarten teachers have curriculum and the children have "expectations" in order to be ready for grade 1. Now they have added a second kindergarten year, because apparently in order to get ready for the first year old school you need TWO preparatory years. Does anyone else see the insanity in this?

Children learn the most in the first six years, which is why, I believe, school used to start at age six. The first and most impressionable years were spent in the home with the mother. It wasn't a free-for-all, but a place of emotional, physical and spiritual learning. A time when children's character was shaped and good behaviour instilled. There was (and is) plenty of learning needing to be done in those early years, and the most effective teacher is the mother.

Thank goodness kindergarten isn't mandatory, for the most part. (Although you must take a minimum 1 year of kindergarten in French to gain entrance into the French Immersion program) But that's not a fact the schools boards advertise very much. Not too surprising, since they come under the jurisdiction of the government, and the government is the one wanting all the mothers back in work as soon as possible. I'm getting a little tired of our captilalistic society. I wonder what it will take for us to realize that having the most money does not equate with either success or happiness, and certainly not with a healthy society and community.

Schooling switch

A chance encounter with an acquaintance last week left us in a spiral as we suddenly considered a schooling switch for Colin (and, consequently, the other two boys later on). Two years ago Orangeville opened its first Francophone school. Officially, this school is for children who have a parent whose first language is French. However, they do consider applicants whose parents have a good grasp of the language, if the child shows an aptitude for French. We had passed on the idea when we enrolled Colin in school last year, worried that James and my French wouldn't be able to hold up enough to give Colin any help he might need as he went through the years.

I always find it important to remember the end goal when making decisions that have long-term effects. Our goal for French immersion was 1) to give Colin a solid second language base, which could provide additional employment opportunities, and make it easier to learn other languages and 2) to challenge him in school, given his quick learning. Keeping those goals in mind, we considered anew the Francophone school.

There was no doubt that children at the Francophone school were learning French much faster. I have a friend whose daughter could carry on a basic conversation after 3 months in school, never having spoken French before. After one year, Colin can count, say the alphabet, and use any number of singular words, but there was no learning sentences, to speak or to understand. Thinking forward to either the gifted program (grade 4) or high school (there is no local Francophone high school), Colin might eventually leave the French program, and so this opportunity will give him a much more solid foundation to hold onto the language if he moves to English education.

The class size at the new school was also an attractive feature: there will be 10 kids in Colin's class. There is no question that a 10:1 ratio is better than a 26:1 ratio. Also appealing (to me) is the fact that from grade one to grade six, the classes are all split grades. I think the opportunity of learning from older children and mentoring younger children is invaluable in the classroom setting. It often allows children more of a chance to learn at their own pace, be it faster or slower than other kids in the class.

The new school is in town, only seven minutes away by car, but Colin would be bussed. This is attractive right now, because of nap times. Caleb is the little personality that sets the mood in our home. If he is grumpy, it can spread throughout the family. And waking him mid-nap to pick Colin up from school was a constant problem for us last year. A school bus, with the stop likely right outside our home, will allow Caleb and Benjamin to get the sleep they need. Once naps are a thing of the past, I may opt to drive and pick up the boys myself, giving us a little more before and after school time together.

Having considered and weighed the positives and negatives of each decision (it was hard to decide to leave a school with all of Colin's friends, and children of my own friends, and move to a program that has full day, every day schooling for both JK and SK) we opted to start to the process. This morning James and I had our own interview with the principal, to test our level of French. Although our vocabulary is lacking, we can both follow 95% of any conversation and can also manage to express our views, albeit in a much simpler and less eloquent way than in English. I constantly assure myself that in the beginning I only need to be able to converse and understand a kindergarten level of French, and then learn it year by year with Colin. Colin also had a private interview, which, I think, was less successful. The principal was speaking to Colin in French, asking him questions and giving him instructions. It was in this that the lack of learning that happened last year was most evident. Because French Immersion involves the teacher giving instructions in French first, followed by the English translation, many children simply learn to wait for the English. It is a much slower learning process, and unnecessary, given that the Francophone children are starting at the same spot and learning more, and more quickly.

We have another interview with the Superintendent on Tuesday, which is more about our enthusiasm for the language and the program than our skills. Providing that goes well, Colin should be able to start this school year at the new school.

Gratefully Colin is easily adaptable. He has no problem starting a new school, no issues with learning a new routine. He would have been in a new class this year with all new people at last year's school anyway, so it's not a big issue. I'm still thankful that it won't disrupt him too much. It's also reassuring that, should this experiment fail, we can switch him back to our local French Immersion school next year. One of the things I've learned in my homeschooling research is that it is important to consider each child separately, and to reconsider things every year. There are many factors that can effect a child's education, and I always want to be conscious of what will provide the best learning environment for each of my kids.

Against the grain

This is an entry written in all honesty.

People often ask me if I am going to homeschool my kids. I'm not surprised at the question; I probably have read and researched about homeschooling and alternative education more than many parents who have already pulled their kids from public school and are in the throes of teaching their kids at home. I read about education. I read about others homeschooling. I read curricula. I talk about it with just about everyone I meet. I am passionate about its methods and wary at the public school system. I am fairly certain homeschooling is a better option.

So people are often surprised when I answer "no." It's never a definitive "never," rather just a "no, not right now." My oldest is going into senior kindergarten. My second child is enrolled in a nursery school in the fall. I often tell people that I like that I am prepared to homeschool should I ever see the need arise (a child falling behind, not succeeding in the school system, or being bullied).

But the real answer why I'm not homeschooling? There are two.

The first and biggest one: fear. I am not one who can easily go against the grain. Perhaps if I had been homeschooled, or James had been, I might be very easily and comfortably not enrolling my kids in school. But the idea is so new here, so foreign to most people. I hate that fear has seemingly paralyzed me out of this decision. I wish more people homeschooled, that it were more accepted. I'm just not a trailblazer.

The second is selfishness. I look down the road at the idea of spending all day every day with my kids and I get exhausted thinking about it. The idea of school as a break for me is very alluring. I think this will fade as my kids grow, as they are less dependent on me, as I get more sleep, as I send all three kids away for 6 hours a day and miss them terribly. These early motherhood days of babies and toddlers is physically, emotionally and mentally draining, and I really did look forward to the hours I had this past year with Colin in school and the other two napping. As an introvert I need time alone to recharge, which is nearly impossible with three kids under 4.

My ideal form of education would involve both school and home. I wish I could send my kids for a morning of school, about three hours. I really don't think they need any more than that (and let's face it, even with 6 hours at school, they probably don't get much more than 3 hours of actual instruction time anyway). Schools aren't really set up for this, and I don't think the teachers would take too kindly to me picking my kids up at lunch time every day. What this really demonstrates is the need for a more flexible school system.

But knowing that in a year or two the selfish reason for sending my kids to school will abate, all that remains is fear. This sort of honesty with myself drives me crazy, because I am such a proponent of doing what's best for my family, no matter what other's say. So, in order to combat it a little, I have purchased a preschool program that caught my eye. It's called "Learn Your Letters...Learn to Serve." More about it later, but suffice it to say that I'm really excited about this program that is mostly for Caleb, but will benefit the entire family.

Reason # ___ to homeschool

Why is school pickup right in the middle of nap time? Clearly the person who set the school day as is never had toddlers. It is really easy to know when Caleb is tired: he dissolves into tears every 3-4 minutes, over absolutely anything. It can be as big as bumping his head and as little as taking too long to walk across the room.

Caleb needs a minimum of 2 hours, but usually naps 2 1/2 to 3 hours, every afternoon. He also needs to wake up on his own. If you try and wake him, even after the rare 4 hour nap, he will still exhibit those teary tired signs.

So, you can imagine what our house is like on school days (Mondays, Wednesdays and some Fridays) when I have to wrench him from his nap at 2:30. That's usually just over two hours of naptime, but he's rarely awake before we have to leave. I try to have a snack ready, whisk him from bed into the stroller/van and place aforementioned snack straight into his hand. It works for that transition time for him to wake up, but he is always grumpy by the time we get back, and right through until bedtime.

I'm almost tempted to pick Colin up early from school, at lunch time, and bring him home then. I hate to work the family around one child, but no one likes a sleep-deprived Caleb. You can bet that come junior kindergarten, if we choose to send him, I'll be picking Caleb up at lunchtime to come home for naps. I can't believe someone actually thought all-day kindergarten for 3 year olds is a good idea. I would not leave sleep-deprived Caleb with a teacher for the afternoon! If the school gives me any grief about picking him up early, I need only leave him one afternoon for them to give the okay to be picked up.

Excerpt from John Holt's "Teach Your Own" (2)

"A Life-Taught Man"

"Hiram Salisbury was a man of 1815. I list his skills, one sheet of scratch paper after another. He knew every farm chore. He milked cows and attended the calves in birth. He physicked his horse. He plowed, he planted, he cultivated, hayed, picked apples, grafted fruit trees, cut wheat with a scythe, cradled oats, threshed grain with a flail on a clay floor. He chopped the corn and put down his vegetables for winter. He made cider and built cider mills. He made cheese and fashioned cheese tongs. He butchered the hogs and sheared the sheep. He churned butter and salted it. He made soap and candles, thatched barns and built smokehouses. He butchered oxen and constructed ox sledges. He fought forest fires and marked out the land. He repaired the crane at Smith's mill and forged a crane for his own fireplace to hang the kettle on. He collected iron in the countryside and smelted it. He tapped (mended) his children's shoes and his own. He built trundle beds, oxcarts, sleighs, wagons, wagon wheels and wheel spokes. He turned logs into boards and cut locust wood for picket fences. He made house frames, beams, mortised and pegged. With six men's help he raised the frames and built the houses. He made a neat cherry stand with a drawer for a cousin, fixed clocks and went fishing. He carved his own board measures (yardsticks) and sold them for a dollar apiece. He fitted window cases, mended locks, and fixed compasses. He hewed timber, surveyed the forest, wrote deeds and shaved shingles. He inspected the town records and audited the books of the Friendship Lodge, the oldest freshwater Masonic lodge in the country. He shipped plows, constructed carding machines, carved gunstocks and built looms. He set gravestones and fashioned wagon hubs. He ran a bookstore and could make a find coffin in half a day. He was a member of the state's General Assembly, overseer of the poor, appraiser of property and fellow of the town council. He made hoops by the thousand and also pewter faucets. For many years he collected the town taxes...

"I have not listed all of Hiram's skills but enough. I do not think he was an unusual man. Put me in Hiram's world and I would not last long. Put Hiram down in our world, he might have a little trouble with a computer, but he'd get the hang of it faster than I could cradle a bushel of oats."

"I tend to agree that Hiram, though perhaps not an unusual man in his time, would be a most unusual one in ours, far more knowing, skillful, intelligent, resourceful, adaptive, inventive, and competent than most people we would find today, in either city or country, and no matter how schooled.

"But the real question I want to raise and answer is how Hiram learned all those skills. To be sure, he did not learn them in school, nor in workshops or any other school-like activity. Almost certainly, he learned how to do all those kinds of work, many of them highly skilled, by being around when other people were doing them. But these people were not doing the work in order to teach Hiram something. Nobody raised a barn just so that Hiram could see how barns were raised. They raised it because they needed to raise the barn. Nor did they say to him, "Hiram, as long as I have to raise this barn, you may as well come around and learn how it is done." They said, "Hiram, I'm raising a barn and I need your help." He was there to help, not to learn - but as he helped, he learned."

(my own thoughts)
Is it any wonder kids often turn their nose up at school assignments, knowing that there really is no greater purpose behind it? "Why do I have to?" seems to have a valid point, given the above barn analogy. When you see the real life application of a skill, it makes a lot more sense. You can talk all about fishing in a lecture, make me read pages from a book, and even have me hook a line and catch a fish from a little swimming pool. But when I'm out camping with a friend and we have to catch our breakfast, you can bet that's when I'll really learn how to fish.

Excerpt from John Holt's "Teach Your Own"

I am just finishing up a book by one of the leading proponents of homeschooling, or, more accurately, alternatives to schooling. My own thoughts are still swimming around and formulating, so before I write on those, I'll post a couple of my favourite excerpts, the ones that left the greatest impact on me.

"The idea I hate the most about public schools is that they should have my children all day when I feed, clothe, doctor, transport, and care most for them, and I am denied those hours with them and the sharing of their learning experiences. I cannot reinforce their education if I am denied the subject matter they are exposed to and am only left with tired grumps who eat, do homework, and flop to bed."

Homeschool considered

Well, Colin's start to school has been less than stellar. I'm surprised I even feel this way after being so confident he would absolutely love going, and that he would be absolutely ready.

First and most concerning, I have encountered some serious safety issues at the school. The first day I dropped Colin off I found four kindergarten kids who had been left in the school yard, after all the teachers and kids had gone inside. Two were near tears, and two were running around near the busy road. I took the initiative, gathered them up and took them into the school. Even more concerning, they were kids from Colin's class, meaning it was Colin's teacher who had missed her head count and left them behind. Then, this past Monday, the teacher lost Colin. James was a few minutes late arriving to pick Colin up, and when he arrived Colin was nowhere to be found. After 20 frantic minutes of the teacher, the principal and James searching the school and the grounds, they eventually found him. All we could get from Colin was that when Colin didn't see me at pickup time, he figured he would just walk home. The teacher didn't notice he had wandered off. I was surprised at how calm I was at the whole experience: I think it was a combination of knowing that a) Colin is capable enough to actually walk home on his own and would adhere to all our safety rules and b) the teacher was likely in as much of a panic as I would have been.

Second, Colin isn't enjoying going at all. He absolutely loved his preschool last year, but this year all he says about his days is that it's boring. Other than the story the teacher reads each day (which he then recites verbatim to me when he gets home), he doesn't talk about anything he is doing there. Every day he has to go, he tells me he's had enough.

Third is the ongoing exhaustion of it all for him. He continues to fall asleep every day at school (no, there is no designated rest time - he just opts out of an activity and falls asleep instead!) Once on the playground, once on the carpet in the classroom, once under his table.

Fourth, we've encountered the inevitable teasing that comes along with growing up. I know I won't be able to protect my little boy from all the heartache he will encounter in the world, but I feel like I want to shield him just a little longer.

Fifth, I don't think Colin's teacher is a good match for him. She seems to be very laid-back, whereas Colin craves structure and organization. I think his dislike of class and his some of his disruptive behaviour is a result of undefined rules and laissez-faire teaching styles. Not that anything is wrong with the teacher's method, it's just that it's not a good fit for Colin. His preschool teachers were extremely surprised to hear about Colin's attitude at and toward school - it is nothing like their experience with him last year, where he absolutely thrived in the "school" environment.

All this has made got me thinking about homeschooling again. If I weren't so ill and exhausted with this pregnancy, I might give it a go. I admit I feel slightly guilty about sending Colin to school so that I can get a bit of a rest, but really it is the best answer for us right now. Caleb is down to 8 or 9 hours a night and is starting to give up his naps, which means I'm not getting near the amount of sleep I need to sustain my own health. Add to that the return of the nausea and overall weakness - I'm not like I was at the beginning of the pregnancy, but I can feel myself on a slow downward slide again.

And so, at least until Christmas, I think we'll have to stick it out with school. For the life of me I can't remember a thing about my own kindergarten experience; my memories begin in earnest at grade one. So hopefully we can see how this year goes and see if Colin eventually settles into the routine of it all. What I love most is that I feel like I always have options - no decision ever has to be permanent. And so the ever-vigilant mother stands her post...

Colin's first day of kindergarten

Wednesday was Colin's first day of junior kindergarten. I have to say, the whole thing kind of snuck up on us, and in the end came and went without a whole lot of pomp and circumstance.

Tuesday night I found myself going to bed without having made a school lunch for him, without have labeled clothes or backpack, without have even gathered his school bag and things for the next day. Luckily with my early risers I knew we'd have at least two hours or more before leaving the house, which is plenty of time to get it all together.

I opted out of a "first day of school outfit," instead letting him choose his own clothes. Although there are so many cute things to wear out there, I'm more about fostering independence. Besides, a whole day of markers and paint and dirt - I'm not so sure I want to "dress" him up for school!

James gave him a father's blessing, in preparation for this new experience. He blessed him that he would be excited, that he would learn new things and make new friends. He blessed him that he would help those children who might be sad or scared. He blessed him that he would start to figure out using the toilet. He blessed him with safety and peace.

After a few quick photos on the front stoop, all four of us departed for the short 7 or 8 minute walk down the street to the school. There is a staggered entry for junior kindergarten in our area, which meant that most kids had already been back for a week by the time Colin's first day rolled around. Our usually quiet street becomes a through-way for kids walking to school, which provided a really neat sense of community.

We arrived just in time for the bell, which the kindergarten teachers were ignoring in favour of trying to make sure all their kids were present. When all the new students arrived, they made their way from the kindergarten play area over to the school entrance. There were about 15 senior kids who had already been in class for a week, and then about 6 junior kids to whom it was completely new. Colin was the very first kid to dart in the door when the teacher opened it! He was followed by another 4 senior kids, and the rest of the children stood outside clinging tearfully to moms and dads. Colin gave a very quick "see ya later, mom!" over his shoulder and disappeared inside. And just like that, the morning drop-off was over. James, Caleb and I headed home. And I felt fine. No tears, no sadness. I knew Colin was not only ready, but beyond excited to be at school. He goes a little batty at home with no "friends" to play with, and is constantly bombarding me to go to someone else's house for a visit. When I peaked in the classroom window (visible from outside), Colin was already exploring the classroom, checking out bins and buckets and wall displays. He was going to be just fine.

The day passed without incident. Colin's body still hasn't worked out the toilet issues, and so I was prepared for at least one, if not numerous, calls to the school to change his pull-up. But the phone never rang. Caleb and I passed the morning playing, reading, singing, cooking, and cleaning. After and early lunch we both squeezed in a good two hour nap, waking just in time to walk down and pick up Colin.

When the final bell rang, the door burst open and children spilled out into the playgroud. Colin came out reluctantly toward the end of the line. He was moving a little slower, evidence of the onset of exhaustion, but climbed up into the stroller and chatted my ear off the whole way home. Mostly about the friends he'd played with. I got very little out of him about what class activities had gone on, but I imagine he was just taking in the whole experience that first day, and probably not paying much attention to the teacher at all.

I riffled through a thick package of letters and communication, proudly displayed Colin's first piece of artwork, and got some food into my boy (he'd only eaten 6 crackers and one oatmeal cookie from his lunch - again, too much excitement during lunch time!). I gently questioned him about school, about his toilet accident (he changed himself, as we had taught him to do), and about a teasing incident the teacher mentioned (his blocked tear ducts sometimes mean his eyes get a little goopy, and some kids were teasing him about it), but it all seemed irrelevant to him.

That night I pondered a little more closely about this new experience for him. We enrolled him in French Immersion, which will mean a really good second language base. James took FI right through to grade 13, and I took it until grade 4. But even those few years for me provided a solid start that helped me become bilingual also. And the opportunity for so much friend time will be the icing on the cake for Colin. The day before school started, we had a little talk about how excited Colin was, but how shy and scared some other kids might be. I mentioned that maybe Colin could help some of his new friends who were a little scared to start school, by playing with them and making them feel better. I am constantly amazed at Colin's sensitivity to others, and willingness to play with anyone, regardless of age, sex or any other factor.

The last thing I did that night before going to bed myself was fill in a sheet provided by the teacher to help her get to know Colin better. I was most intrigued by the last question on the survey: what was I hoping Colin would get out of kindergarten? I thought about it for a few minutes, trying to discern exactly what it was I knew this class would provide to my son. I knew it had nothing to do with academic concerns - I've never been one wanting to push my child into early reading or writing. I knew it wasn't about socialization - I knew Colin was already well-adjusted in that area. Finally I was able to put my finger on exactly what I wanted out of kindergarten, and I penciled in just three words: indulge his creativity. That is exactly what I hope Colin will experience at school.

Nine qualities essential for successful adaptaptation into the workplace

Most teens will tell you high school is pointless. Some are simply going through the motions to get to university. Some are simply complying with the law. Even those who like to learn and get good grades see the futility of the things they study. Very little will actually prepare them for university, life, or the workplace.

Most university students will tell you university is pointless. They will learn almost nothing that directly helps them in a career in their field. Nearly everyone will tell you they learn more in a few weeks on the job than four years in a classroom.

The following list was compiled and posted at a Harvard campus. It was included in a brochure containing advice for students planning a career in the new international economy - the state our world is becoming. It would seem to me, then, that these would be fairly important skills to be taught and learned by university students preparing for their careers. And since these types of skills are ones that need to be fostered and deep-rooted, it would seem to me you would need to start in high school. Or middle school. Actually, since most study habits and modes of thinking are already established by middle school, it seems to me they should be taught from the very first days of elementary school. Hmmm.

1. The ability to ask hard questions of data, whether from textbooks, authorities, or other "expert" sources.
2. The ability to define problems independently, to avoid slavish dependence on official definitions.
3. The ability to scan masses of irrelevant information and to quickly extract from the sludge whatever is useful.
4. The ability to conceptualize.
5. The ability to reorganize information into new patterns which enable a different perspective than the customary.
6. The possession of a mind fluent in moving among different modes of thought: deductive, inductive, heuristic, intuitive, et al.
7. Facility in collaboration with a partner, or in teams.
8. Skill in the discussion of issues, problems or techniques.
9. Skill in rhetoric. Convincing others your course is correct.

Is it any wonder why kids graduate from high school only to flounder at home for another 10 years before deciding they should maybe try and "make it" in the world on their own? Is it any wonder why we graduate from university and feel completely ill-equipped to actually get a job in our discipline? Of the above 9 essential (and although not compiled by myself, I would agree with the list) qualities, how many were taught with any sense of urgency during our schooling?

Purple cows

I hope my kids colour their cows purple.

I was at our Early Years Centre the other day and a four year old girl proudly displayed her beautifully coloured picture of a cow - bright purple. Her mother took the paper and looked over it, then commented kindly: "You silly, silly girl. Cows are supposed to be brown! Next time you'll have to make sure you colour it brown."

And you know what? Next time she probably will colour it brown, just like cows are in real life.

Is it important for her to know cows are brown? Sure - if she looked out on a field and thought the cows were actually purple, there might be a problem. But personally I think art is a time for unlimited creativity. What if someone told Jackson Pollock that painting is for portraits? Or John Cage that you can only play the 88 notes on the piano? What if the Wright brothers were told that wheels are only for the ground and not to help launch themselves into the air?

As I watch Colin and other children grow, I'm starting to believe that most people's creativity peaks around the age of 4 or 5 years. Up until this age, children are free from inhibitions and the rules imposed from outside forces. They see absolutely nothing wrong with colouring a cow purple - in fact, they probably don't even consciously decide whether or not it's an appropriate colour choice. Some burning flame of creativity chose a crayon and simply created.

Too often I hear of stories where children and youth are discouraged from thinking outside the box. Too often teachers simply want a regurgitation of what they put into their pupils minds.

James tells a story of reading "One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest" in high school. He posed the question in class "What if McMurphy really was crazy?" "No, he wasn't," the teacher replied. "But what if he was?" James persisted, perhaps on the brink of opening up an entirely different conversation about the book. "No, he wasn't. That's the point - he wasn't crazy." "But what-" "You're wrong," the teacher insisted and shut the door on the possibility. Now the author may very well have never intended the character to be perceived of as crazy - but what if he was? Let me tell you - a paper on "why McMurphy wasn't crazy and what is incarceration in the mental hospital says about society at the time" might get an A from the teacher, but would probably not have an original thought in it. But a paper on the idea that McMurphy really had mental issues and how the other characters aided in his demise - now that is something new and might even be read by more than one high school English teacher!

I'm an artist, and so I obviously have tendencies to nurture the artistic aspects in my children. But creativity is about so much more than purple cows. It's about free, independent thought, thinking outside the box, and societal revolution! In my books, purple cows breed the new, unheard of inventions and ideas of tomorrow.

Pass the green crayon, please.

Colin keeps on learnin'

I am completely amazed at not only how much children need to learn, but how quickly they learn it also! Here's a summary of where Colin is at right now, at 2 3/4 years:

1. He can count to 20
2. He knows his left and his right.
3. He can tell you how many of something there is without needing to count it (ie: on a walk yesterday: "Look, there's three pumpkins" and "where are the two girls and one boy going?")
4. He can transfer knowledge to another context (ie: When he came home from nursery school he came across his basketball, brought it to me and said "Basketball starts with a "ba ba ba" sound!" Earlier that day he had coloured a cutout of a basketball when he learned the sound at school)
5. He knows (and will tell you) that ladybugs eat aphids, but that birds will not eat ladybugs because they taste gross.
6. His vocabulary is astonishing. He uses a whole range of synonyms for the word "gross" (including, but not limited to: disgusting, yucky, chalky, terrible, awful.) He speaks in full, proper sentences, and often strings thoughts together using "and," because," "if...then." He understands verb tenses, also. He expresses his emotions like "excited" and "sad" and tells us he's not feeling well and needs to either go to the doctor, or in the ambulance to the hospital.
7. His memory of songs is always expanding. His catalogue now includes a whole host of Michael Jackson songs (thank you, James) including "Stranger in Moscow".
8. His memory alone is amazing. He never forgets anything. If you are talking about something when he goes to sleep at night, he wakes up in the morning and continues the conversation as though you had only pressed "pause". He will recall something months later a fact he only heard once. He reminds me of things I forget all the time, which used to be a little embarrassing, but which I am growing used to now.
9. He still loves to read, devouring on average 8 books a day. He commits the story to memory instantly and will retell it throughout the day. He can also answer questions about the story, and applies what he reads to what he sees in the world around him.
10. This is a phrase he used on me this morning that made me double over in laughter inside: "Tell you what, Mommy: if Caleb goes to sleep in his stroller, then we can all walk over to Every Kids Park, if you want. Isn't that a great idea? Yep, it sure is."

(Because of my seeming inability to get myself together to scrapbook, I'm hoping these entries will serve as a good alternative for my boys down the road when they ask me at what age they accomplished certain things. Hence the daily diaries on our lives!)

A little bit on education

I've had four experiences over the past few days that I have given me food for thought. I don't want to comment on them myself, as I'm still processing how to interpret them in the realm of myself. but here they are:

1. A History of the World
A homeschooling mom was excited about a new series of books she ordered for her elementary-aged children. These books combine the historical timeline of biblical stories with the historical settings of past civilizations. What was really interesting, was that this mother mentioned how much she was learning herself. In her school career, she had taken only one course like this, called "World History", in high school. How on earth do you squeeze the entire history of the world into three months of classes? It almost seems absurd to try.

2. Editing an essay
I was asked through a friend of mine to edit a university paper. It was 80 pages in length, but I agreed because a) the student was offering to pay, but more importantly b) the paper was on the literacy gap between boys and girls, a subject that interests me greatly. I opened chapter one, which did not need editing as it had already been submitted, but was provided to put the paper in context. I got nervous as I read. The paper was replete with not only grammatical errors, poor sentence structure and meandering form, but there were spelling mistakes. In the age of spell check, I have little patience for spelling errors. I opened chapter two, and it took an hour and a half to edit 5 pages. No sentence was untouched. There were 15 comments (notes that had to be written separate from the paper because they involved more than a simple comment). After 5 pages I stopped and emailed the writer. I wasn't sure how much I could ethically and legally edit! She wrote back that it the entire paper was just a free-flow of thought, and she hadn't even looked back over any of it. It came out that the university provided a peer editor, but not for this early in the process. Really, she was too busy (or lazy) to do the work she was supposed to be doing. The whole experience made me seriously question: 1) the validity of the assignment if students didn't feel it was worth it to do the job themselves and 2) how on earth a university level student could write so poorly! Had more than 15 years of education failed her so badly?

3) A little theatre
is nothing as immediate as live theatre.Yesterday I ordered tickets for Colin's first trip to the theatre. I have had a love of the theatre since I can remember. I have viewed, read, acted, directed and crewed more plays than I could ever count. It's a beautiful, and engaging artform. Although I have an equal love of film, there A nearby theatre company is producing a black light, puppetry, musical adaptation of "Goodnight Moon" and "The Runaway Bunny", two children's literature classics. I'm beyond excited to take Colin's education in literature to this next level!

4) School around the world
In speaking with a friend this week, I learned about her neighbours who are university professors. They decided one year to participate in an exchange program with three other professors around the world. They swapped homes for the year, giving their families a chance to live in a different country. For that year, these children did not attend formal schooling. Instead, they spent time traveling around, experiencing new and exotic things, and documenting their experiences in essays and stories and poetry. One example: they spent a month caring for elephants who had been abused or hurt in the wild. Their days were filled with washing down these giant creatures, feeding them, caring for them and tending to their needs. Now that is education completely relevant to the world around you!

Learning to think

I think the following is a good measure of where my ideas on education are.

***

"Inquiry Education"
(from Wikipedia)

Inquiry education (sometimes known as the inquiry method) is a student-centered method of education focused on asking questions. Students are encouraged to ask questions which are meaningful to them, and which do not necessarily have easy answers; teachers are encouraged to avoid giving answers when this is possible, and in any case to avoid giving direct answers in favor of asking more questions. The method was advocated by Neil Postman and Charles Weingartner in their book Teaching as a Subversive Activity.

The inquiry method is motivated by Postman and Weingartner's recognition that good learners and sound reasoners center their attention and activity on the dynamic process of inquiry itself, not merely on the end product of static knowledge. They write that certain characteristics are common to all good learners (Postman and Weingartner, 31–33), saying that all good learners have:

• Self-confidence in their learning ability
• Pleasure in problem solving
• A keen sense of relevance
• Reliance on their own judgment over other people's or society's
• No fear of being wrong
• No haste in answering
• Flexibility in point of view
• Respect for facts, and the ability to distinguish between fact and opinion
• No need for final answers to all questions, and comfort in not knowing an answer to difficult questions rather than settling for a simplistic answer

In an attempt to instill students with these qualities and behaviors, a teacher adhering to the inquiry method in pedagogy must behave very differently from a traditional teacher. Postman and Weingartner suggest that inquiry teachers have the following characteristics (pp. 34–37):

• They avoid telling students what they "ought to know".
• They talk to students mostly by questioning, and especially by asking divergent questions.
• They do not accept short, simple answers to questions.
• They encourage students to interact directly with one another, and avoid judging what is said in student interactions.
• They do not summarize students' discussion.
• They do not plan the exact direction of their lessons in advance, and allow it to develop in response to students' interests.
• Their lessons pose problems to students.
• They gauge their success by change in students' inquiry behaviors (with the above characteristics of "good learners" as a goal).

"Our educational system is traditional and backward-looking, and it produces students who cannot deal with change. It consists of an irrelevant, structured "subject matter" system where subject matter knowledge is the end goal, a paradox in an age of change. Traditional classroom organization must be eliminated (including grades, desks, courses, and administrations), and an inquiry system must be instituted which is devoted to instruction in the process of learning to develop in students competent "crap detectors" (with which they can deal effectively with change). A curriculum which trains students in the processes of learning, recognizing that the critical content of any learning experience is the method or process through which the learning occurs, must be student-centered, question-centered, and language-centered: it must consist of relevant questions (selected by the students as worth knowing the answers to) which will help students to develop and internalize concepts which are appropriate to reality; it must take place in a questioning, meaningmaking atmosphere in which students "learn by doing" how to be a successful learner and in which the teacher serves as a guide; and it must include a study of the new media language and of the relationships of language to reality so that the student can develop standards by which he can judge the value of perception. Training for the new kind of teacher who is needed for this system would shift him into the role of inventor of viable new teaching strategies and have him question what he is doing and why he does it."
- Neil Postman

Back to School

Today is "back to school" for millions of children. Probably one of my favourite days as a kid. The week before would be spent gathering up supplies, packing a new school bag, picking out an outfit. From nursery school through university, it felt like a new beginning. I was awash in emotions from excitement to nervousness. I loved to learn, loved to earn good marks, loved to read and present projects and write essays and do math problems (yes, I really did!)

Because of some readings I've come across of late, that feeling of excitement is a little dampened. What were all those years for? What did all those projects and essays and books and A's accomplish in me? Was there genuine growth within? Did I learn to question and dig deep and go beyond the surface? I wonder about that now.

In my own little corner in my own little house, I wonder what the larger purpose of my education was? I read this on a friend's blog:

Here’s a yucky quote by one of the men who had an early influence on curriculum
reform:

‘The real purpose of modern schooling was announced by the legendary sociologist Edward Roth in his manifesto of 1906 called SOCIAL CONTROL… In it Roth wrote… “plans are underway to replace family, community and church with propaganda, mass-media and education (of course he meant schooling)…people are only little plastic lumps of dough”.’

Did you know that in some countries it is illegal to homeschool? Did you know that they are trying to do the same thing here in North America? I wonder if it is because they think "the system" can do a better job educating our children, or if it is because they want to conform the children into one mold? Why on earth should every child be taught the same things in the same way and graded against the same standard? Who decided what the standard of a "perfect school child" should be? What if I don't agree?

I feel the crushing weight of the shackles they clamped on my ankles as they set us all up in a line.

The early years: give them lots of play time to teach that school is "fun"
The elementary years: teach the children to please the teacher and give him what he wants
The middle school years: give them a taste of the freedom high school promises
The high school years: make their world evolve around getting A's, so that they can get into a good university
The university years: four years for them to rebel against the system and then learn to conform again

The system is so well crafted, they even realized that if they even gave us a false sense rebellion so that we will come to our sense early in life and fall back in line with society. I always defended school as being a place where you learned to learn. The algebra questions weren't important, but the skills you developed while mastering them. Now I question the entire system. I wasn't learning how to learn, I was learning how to please. I was learning what I had to do to get the A that would get me into university that would get me a good job. How false this turned out to be. All my good grades and all my awards got me nothing when I got out of university. Did any of you out there also have your bubble burst when you graduated? I felt so completely inadequately prepared. No one was giving me projects with due dates, or providing me with subjects on which to write a paper. There wasn't a job to enroll in, like I did with classes. The summer after graduation came to a close and for the first time I had nowhere to go in September. If 20 years of schooling were supposed to prepare me for life, why was I so lost? Why do so many of us flounder completely upon graduation? Why do so many return home? It seems to me that the real education is only beginning, and the past 20 years seem to have been wasted.

Isn't enlightenment...enlightening? For the first time I feel like I can truly go "back to school", starting fresh, and really have the chance to learn something. I am master of my own education now. With a creativity, books, friends as teachers and a whole lot of personal discipline, I want to start really learning something!

There's that flutter of excitement and nervousness in my stomach again...

Bubbles and earth

I was going to write today about our eventful camping trip over the long weekend (torrential downpour while I tried to set up an 8 man tent on my own while my mom tried to soothe Colin and Caleb in a car packed to the brim with camping gear) but I have had my personal bubble burst just now. That bubble in which I live, where I control everything and life is just as it should be. My comfort zone, my status quo, my walking-through-life-blind state of living.

Why is it that we accept so many things without truly considering them first? "This is the way life is lived" they tell us. "These are the things you should do. This is what you should think of these things. Be joyful at this, be horrified at this. Vote yes, protest, complain at the dinner table but do nothing about it. Life is a pleasure cruise. Watch representations of other people's lives on tv, and find yourself wishing for that unattainable dream. Buy, spend, buy, spend. You deserve to have it. You need it. You want it. Buy it. This is the system. This is the way it's always been. This is the way it has evolved. This is the best it has ever been." A small dissenting thought creeps into a corner, and I feel fired by it. Then I feel inadequate, confused, overwhelmed, tiny. I feel the social pressure. I question myself and retreat. I worry about what people think of me. I long ago lost the freedom and abandonment of childhood. "What might they think?" Who is "they"? Family, friends, neighbours, strangers. As I grow I lose a bit of the worry. I realize it doesn't matter what other people think. Let them laugh, stare, wonder, deride, scorn. Sometimes I can let it slide, sometimes I can't.

Every step forward is followed by a hundred steps back.

But then I realize that every step forward is huge, immeasurably large. Every step back is tiny, immeasurably small. In fact, no amount of steps backward will ever erase the distance I covered in one step forward. I am changed. I am evolving.

There are others out there struggling with my struggles. I imagine looking down on us; we are all these little hands poking through the earth where all of humanity has been buried. I know there is something better up there. Once in a while I peek my head through and take in deep gulps of fresh air. I sink back into the ground. I pull myself back out and see others laughing and dancing and rejoicing at their newfound freedom. There are many of us who are just poking through, constantly struggling to get back up. There are many, many more who are happy to live in the darkness and warmth of the enveloping earth.

Laws, rules, regulations, guidelines. I have been taught unquestioning obedience. I am realizing that I need to fast unlearn all that I have been taught. I am experiencing a new form of learning and teaching. I am no longer performing to please, or learning to get an 'A'. There is something so much larger than that going on, and it is this I am striving for.

Thank you to those of you who remind me to get up out of my rut and breathe! My ideas need to be mine and mine alone. But opposition of ideas is not something to avoid. They need to be discussed and met head on! Only opposition can help us grow. I have heard this all my life, but the meaning of it is new again.

Push me. Let me push you. Let's discuss. Let's disagree. Let's express new ideas. Let's banish fear. Let's not judge. Let's learn. Let's grow.

Starting School

First of all, I'm a little sad that I'm even writing this post! My baby is off to school next week! He is starting at a local nursery school, on Mondays and Tuesdays for 2 1/2 hours in the morning. A wonderful friend has graciously offered to drive Colin, as I don't have a car. The owners/operators/teachers are good friends of ours, and I know many of the moms and kids who are already attending. I suppose if there is a best-case scenario where I have to send him off, this is it.

So the big question is then...what about homeschool? For months I have been writing about it, thinking about it, mulling it over and wondering if it is right for us. I love the freedom and latitude that homeschooling allows. I love that we can work at each child's pace, and not be afraid of him being held back by others or feeling pushed too quickly. I love that I could tailor the subjects to his interests, and also include religious, behavioural, and social learning. I love that we could go on any number of field trips, and that travel could be an integral part of our schooling.

I don't doubt myself as a teacher. Teaching has always been a passion of mine (although as a career I would probably pursue high school rather than elementary). I have the dedication and love of learning to be able to give my children an excellent education - probably one better than they would receive in school (in the purely cerebral sense).

I have no fears of my children being socialized well. One-on-one learning of homeschool means fewer hours "in the classroom". We attend church, have family nearby, and many, many, many friends with just as many playdates. We are active in the community and will be signed up in community activities and sports teams.

So why school, then? In the end, it came down to one factor, but it was a huge one. Colin is an extrovert. I don't mean "extrovert" in the sense that he is outgoing (although he is). I recently learned about being an extrovert or an introvert in the realm of how you get your energy, your boost, your recharge. Personally, I am an introvert. (No, really, I am. I know many of you who know me are thinking "but you're so outgoing!" That's true, but stay with me for a minute. I really am an introvert!) I need time to myself. If I don't get time alone, I get crabby. I get anxious. I get tired. I recharge by being on my own. Contrary to this, I have a friend who is an extrovert. She needs to be around people to get her energy kick. If she is by herself for too long, she starts to feel depressed, tired, lonely. If faced with the choice of engaging in a group activity or being by herself, she would pick the group. Me, I would rather curl up with a book, play the piano, write, go for a hike.

I have noticed this with Colin. At home he is nearly incapable of spending much time alone. After about 5 minutes he's looking for me. He'd much rather loiter around me as I do dishes than play with toys by himself. Anyone who walks in the door is an instant friend and is invited to share in his playtime. When I take him out to the Early Years Centre or to a program with other kids, he absolutely thrives. He almost never has a temper tantrum, whereas at home he melts down two or three times an hour, at least. At home he needs a new activity every 5 minutes, becoming easily bored without someone to be with. When surrounded by people he demonstrates excellent behaviour. He grasps new concepts at an exponential rate.

And so, over the past few months, I have observed all these things in Colin, which brought me to the conclusion that he will probably be best suited in a classroom, filled with other children. He is a quick learner and especially bright, but I'm hoping that his teachers will challenge him further. I'm hoping that his love for people will translate into his helping others with their work when he's finished his. And I'm hoping that he will learn to use his intensity in positive ways.

I will most certainly supplement his education at home. Reading will be a huge factor, as will a summer program (you should read what the teachers and experts say about the two-month hiatus our children have and how it takes at least 6 weeks in the fall to get them back to where they were the previous June!).

My number one philosophy on education is this: I will make sure each one of my children is getting the very best education he/she can get. This may mean homeschooling for some and not for others. It may mean starting in the public system for a few years and then pulling them out for a time to educate at home. It may mean French Immersion or the gifted program or a private or alternative learning school. My priority is that my children love to learn and value education. I think the best thing I can do, then, is to keep an open mind, constantly evaluate the situation, and be willing to change if change proves necessary.