Of Great Mind: A Journey in Home Education

Examine Your Life, Please (and Clean Your Room)

2012-01-07T12:16:00.005-05:00

In an effort to clean my room in cyberspace, I'm consolidating, condensing and deleting. This post was written for a little-publicized blog of mine on 17 October 2011.

Gerard Manley Hopkins: who were you? Why are you suddenly so significant to my life?

Michael D. O’Brien: how are you connected?

Poetry and photography: images captured in words and images captured in pixels.

Human nature: ah, how it disappoints me, but the raison d’etre for writing and reading literature is to explore and study it. But why do I care? Why should anyone care?

I am a mom. I teach my kids at home. What am I teaching them? Reading? Yes. Writing? I’m trying. Math, science, history? Check, check, check. But it’s so much more than that. Why aren’t my kids in school? Because their souls are too important to risk. If my only concern was teaching them to follow the rules, teaching them to be … well, followers, they’d be in school.

I don’t want them to be rule-followers; I want them to be soul searchers. I want them to search for answers, to search for The Truth (not their own truth … please!) THE TRUTH (all caps, baby). I want them to search for God, because He’s there, anytime they need Him, and He’ll be there when nobody else is.

How do I do this? I start by doing it myself. A catechism is not enough (thank you, Father Modlin). Workbooks are not enough. The rules are not enough.

“The unexamined life is not worth living,” but the world outside my door is filled with unexamined lives. In the world outside my door, kindergarteners are given Ipads! Make the medicine look and taste like candy, and they’ll be happy to swallow it. The problem is that the “medicine”—the “knowledge” (yes, quotes)—will be about as beneficial as candy: “Well, it will fill them up.” Sure, it will fill them up, and leave them spiritually malnourished, bloated with worthless facts and “values” that are good only until a new bully of an expert comes along and says, “No, these are the values of the moment. This is what is important now.” There’s no TRUTH for these people. And those kindergarteners who consumed all those empty education calories? They’ll become obese teens, no longer worth the time and the effort. Their education diet will get switched to nasty-tasting pills. They’ll choke them down and go through life in a daze, only to wake up someday (probably when it’s too late) and wonder, “When did my life get so bad?”

Go Ahead; Just Say It; It Won't Hurt

2012-01-07T11:45:00.001-05:00

Yes, there is the Pythagorean Theorem, there is subject-verb agreement, and don't forget about the process of photosynthesis. There are plenty of "academic" lessons, but the life lessons, the moral lessons, the love-your-neighbor-type lessons are the reasons Dennis and I homeschool our kids. Of those, there is perhaps one I wish to instill above all others, and — as usual — Seth Godin explains it well:

I was wrong

In 1993, I saw the web coming. I was hired to write the cover story for a now defunct computer magazine about the internet, and dismissed the new Mosaic browser in a single paragraph.

I figured the web was just like Prodigy, but slower, harder to use and without a business model.

About as expensive a wrong analysis as a single entrepreneur with an email company could make in 1993.

The reason it was an insanely valuable lesson: I got better at announcing that I was wrong, learning from it and doing the next thing.

Politicians, of course, are terrible at this. They are never wrong, apparently, and when they are, spin instead of admitting it. Which not only hurts their trustworthiness, it prevents them from learning anything.

Two elements of successful leadership: a willingness to be wrong and an eagerness to admit it.

Grammar Lessons: Subjective/Objective Pronouns

2012-01-06T13:02:00.000-05:00

Don’t use a subjective pronoun when you should be using an objective pronoun.
Correct: Thaddeus gave the tickets to Scarlett and me.
Incorrect: Thaddeus gave the tickets to Scarlett and I.
If Scarlett was out of town, Thaddeus would give the ticket to me, not to I.

Be Still My Heart, Seth

2011-09-05T07:49:00.001-04:00

I have a folder in Yahoo! Mail called "Seth." This is where I transfer the blog posts written by Seth Godin that are worth keeping for future reference. I have to admit, though, that almost every single post of Seth's delivered to my inbox ends up in the Seth folder. Today's post merited not only save status, but an email to Seth (who always replies promptly) that began, "Be still my heart ...," and a blog post of my own. I simply have to share.

The kids and I (and Dennis) will begin lessons tomorrow, although some of my children were asking last week if we could start earlier. They're raring to go, and I love it! As a prelude to a new year of lessons, I've been doing plenty of studying myself. I've been reading the books the kids will read (Warrior Scarlet by Rosemary Sutcliff is fabulous; I couldn't put it down), preparing to teach the reading program I purchased for Jack, and discussing the subjects of education and public schools with many people. Although the specifics vary, the overall feeling is the same: parents are unhappy with the schools their children are in. Some don't like specific teachers; some don't like the adminstration; some feel that their kids aren't challenged enough; some see their kids learning little more than how to take standardized tests.

What most of them are missing, though, is fundamental. To a large extent, parents are dissatisfied with public schools because they think they will be getting a product (educated children who will go on to lead "successful" lives) that schools never really promised to deliver.

I'll let Seth expound on this:

A hundred and fifty years ago, adults were incensed about child labor. Low-wage kids were taking jobs away from hard-working adults.

Sure, there was some moral outrage at seven-year olds losing fingers and being abused at work, but the economic rationale was paramount. Factory owners insisted that losing child workers would be catastrophic to their industries and fought hard to keep the kids at work--they said they couldn't afford to hire adults. It wasn't until 1918 that nationwide compulsory education was in place.

Part of the rationale to sell this major transformation to industrialists was that educated kids would actually become more compliant and productive workers. Our current system of teaching kids to sit in straight rows and obey instructions isn't a coincidence--it was an investment in our economic future. The plan: trade short-term child labor wages for longer-term productivity by giving kids a head start in doing what they're told.

Large-scale education was never about teaching kids or creating scholars. It was invented to churn out adults who worked well within the system.

Of course, it worked. Several generations of productive, fully employed workers followed. But now?

Nobel-prize winning economist Michael Spence makes this really clear: there are tradable jobs (making things that could be made somewhere else, like building cars, designing chairs and answering the phone) and non-tradable jobs (like mowing the lawn or cooking burgers). Is there any question that the first kind of job is worth keeping in our economy?

Alas, Spence reports that from 1990 to 2008, the US economy added only 600,000 tradable jobs.

If you do a job where someone tells you exactly what to do, they will find someone cheaper than you to do it. And yet our schools are churning out kids who are stuck looking for jobs where the boss tells them exactly what to do.

Do you see the disconnect here? Every year, we churn out millions of of workers who are trained to do 1925 labor.

The bargain (take kids out of work so we can teach them to become better factory workers) has set us on a race to the bottom. Some argue we ought to become the cheaper, easier country for sourcing cheap, compliant workers who do what they're told. We will lose that race whether we win it or not. The bottom is not a good place to be, even if you're capable of getting there.

As we get ready for the 93rd year of universal public education, here’s the question every parent and taxpayer needs to wrestle with: Are we going to applaud, push or even permit our schools (including most of the private ones) to continue the safe but ultimately doomed strategy of churning out predictable, testable and mediocre factory-workers?

As long as we embrace (or even accept) standardized testing, fear of science, little attempt at teaching leadership and most of all, the bureaucratic imperative to turn education into a factory itself, we’re in big trouble.

The post-industrial revolution is here. Do you care enough to teach your kids to take advantage of it?

Theory is One Thing; What About Reality?

2011-08-21T17:16:00.000-04:00

One of the principles of Leadership Education is "Inspire, Not Require." The "Inspire" part means that we, as adults/parents/teachers, should be leading the way by example. Every parent knows that children are like sponges, absorbing what they see and hear and repeating it in some way, shape, or form. Therefore, we should be pursuing our own educations. I've been spending my free time studying art history and art techniques.

The "Not Require" part means that we adults get out of the way and let our kids/students educate themselves. This is the most terrifying part of Leadership Education. What if it doesn't work? What if our kids waste their time? What if they never pick up a book? What if they go through life not knowing what a Mercator Projection is?

Dennis and I have followed the tenets of Leadership Education in our home for a number of years now. There are times when we do few formal lessons with our kids and let them decide how they will educate themselves. There are times when we get nervous and get out the workbooks and tell the kids, "Yes, dang it, you will learn grammar, whether you like it or not."

The most interesting times are ones like now, in which our kids actually ask us to give them assignments.

Last week, Luke, Bridget, Henry and Sam took the California Acheivement Test, so I can send the results to the local superintendent of schools and the state secretary of education and thereby prove that they are, in fact, learning something. Testing time is always interesting and stressful and fraught with tears. This year, neither Luke, Bridget, nor Henry did very well on section five: math computation. Luke also did rather poorly on the language usage section. After some of them dried their tears, they turned on me: "You didn't teach me any grammar." "I spent all my time on algebra, and no time on fractions."

I found it rather amusing, and I reminded them that 1. Dennis and I are always available to help with any problem they don't understand; 2. if they feel the need to learn fractions, then they'd better spend some time in any of the Key to Fractions books we have; 3. the point of the acheivement test is to gauge what they do know and what they don't know (and we now know what they don't know); and 4. if they feel their educations are lacking, they'd better do something about it.

So, as we stand on the threshold of another school year, I've begun making relatively loose learning plans for each of them (the plans will be weekly, with suggestions for art, communication, history, math, religion, science and other subjects such as music, geography, life skills), but it will be up to them to accomplish as much or little as they want in each of the books I "assign." Further, I've already started reading the assigned books (a task that is keeping me very busy, but one that I love doing). For Dennis's part, he has already spent an evening introducing Luke, Bridget and Henry to Euclidian geometry.

So, the question remains: If left to their own devices, will kids spend time learning? Here's a video of a school that dared to put the theory to the test and learn the answer.

We Like it Here in Maine

2011-08-06T19:34:00.000-04:00

Dennis jokes that New Hampshire is a buffer state between Maine and the rest of the nation. Generalizations about the state and its people abound, but they are generalizations. I see exceptions to the rule all the time. In a very real way, however, living in Maine has insulated us from the "rest of the world" and this has had a positive impact on our family life. I'll be the first to admit, though, that the benefits don't always shine forth like beacons in the night. There have been times I've wanted to pitch it all and head back to Denver.

When we moved here six years ago, we left nice neighbors in a suburb of about 90,000 people; an active, populous and supportive homeschool group; and a vibrant Catholic community. Here in Maine, we live in a small town of about 3,600 people, which is located next to a "city" of about 16,000 people; I could count on my two hands the number of homeschooling families I've met here; our Catholic parish is comprised of few families we know on a first-name basis. When the spring sports season rolls around, I joke that it's time to come out of hibernation, but it's not far from the truth. In April, I often see people I haven't laid eyes on since October.

So why, you ask, do I like living here? Well, here in our little town in Maine, it's easy to be a family; it's (relatively) easy to filter out the rest of the world; it's easy to establish goals and values of our own and work at living up to them.

Now, if you're thinking that this family of mine is a bunch of hermits hiding out in the woods, you're wrong. Like my father, I can chat with just-about anyone on just-about any subject and thoroughly enjoy the experience. Walking away from one of these encounters, though, seldom leaves me pining for lots more of them. More than anything else, I'd have to say I'm satisfied, and I'm thankful that my kids also seem satisfied.

They have no desire to attend school. When we, as a family, take a trip or visit relatives; when any of the kids spend time with friends, play team sports, or participate in extracurricular activities, we enjoy the experiences. When they are over, though, we're good with that. Going back to our home-centered, family-centered world is comfortable and just plain nice.

Luke played varsity and junior varsity baseball on the local high school teams this spring. He worked hard, had fun with his friends, and was always ready for the next practice or game. When the varsity team lost its playoff game in the first round, Luke was very happy to turn in his uniform and warm up for the solitary game of golf.

Henry played well on the recreation league baseball team, but didn't make the All-Star team. He shrugged it off and focused his energies on Lego creations, outdoor adventures and improving his golf swing.

Bridget recently celebrated her 13th birthday by having a friend over for the day, which is a rare treat. While it had been a good visit, my sweet, mature daughter realized that her life does not exactly mirror the life of her public-schooled friend, and she was perfectly fine with that.

Dr. Meg Meeker, author of Strong Fathers, Strong Daughters, in a blog post titled "Mothers and Competitiveness," ruminates on the tendency of mothers to compare themselves and their children to others. She writes:

High school arrives and there are Varsity sports, prom, dating and colleges to consider. Every step along the way we feel pressure to make sure that our kids don’t fall behind. No, we really want them to outshine the other kids. We don’t want our kids to be snooty, we just want them excellent. But we don’t stop there. We feel pressure to keep up too. We need to be better mothers, in better shape and of course, always working on that last 10 pounds. A recent poll showed that 83% of women are dissatisfied with how they look. We feel this way only because we look around and compare our figures to other women.

Why do we do this? And where does it stop? I worry about us because feeling constantly competitive with other mothers hurts only two people: us and our child. Period.

We need to let this go.

When we compare our children with those in their classes and size up our women friends to see if we are as successful as they are, we lose. We lose God’s perspective of who we really are. We can’t see the deep character that God instilled in the kids beneath our noses and we can’t see the real beauty that God hand carved into each and every one of us mothers. ...

God made each of us and our children perfectly different from one another. Let’s keep it that way.

I would be lying if I said that I don't fall into this competition trap, because I sometimes do. There are times I worry my kids aren't learning enough; moments I think they should be involved in community theater or karate or something; and days when looking in the mirror does nothing but depress me. Thankfully, those times have come around much less often since we moved here to Maine, where my family and I are comfortable in our own skins and happy to be together. Here in the woods, the competition trap is not nearly as alluring and much easier to avoid.

Conversations From Long Ago Come to Light

2011-06-06T09:39:00.000-04:00

Apparently, the nineteenth-century poet Gerard Manley Hopkins has an important role to play in my life. I find this ironic, since I had never even heard the name of this prolific Jesuit priest when I was an English major at St. Anselm College.

I knew nothing about the fellow until I met Paul Mariani at the Glen Writer's Workshop in Colorado Springs. I was staff writer/entertainment editor for The Denver Catholic Register and was assigned to interview Mr. Mariani, who was in the Springs teaching a poetry workshop. I spent the better part of the day with Paul and his lovely wife, Eileen, enjoying every second of every conversation about poetry, writing, Catholicism and even raising children. (Luke had not yet brightened my life.) At the time, Paul was a professor at the University of Massachusetts at Amherst. He now teaches at Boston College. He is the author of six volumes of poetry (three or four of which I own, complete with inscriptions by him) and five biographies, including one on Gerard Manley Hopkins. (I picked up two of the biographies at used bookstores in Denver, but alas, not the one on Hopkins.)

Since that cursory introduction to Hopkins (I never actually bothered to read his poetry, but I did read Paul's), I've heard the name here and there. Two years ago, I learned that another author I met at the Glen Workshop, Ron Hansen (his novel Atticus is excellent) wrote a book titled Exiles that was inspired by (and deals with the events that actually inspired) Hopkins's 280-line poem "The Wreck of the The Deutschland." After learning of this book, I vowed to read Hopkins, along with Hansen's book. Alas, good intentions got me nowhere.

I was not, however, destined to never read the poetry of Gerard Manley Hopkins. Yesterday, I read the first four or five entries in The Everyman's Library Pocket Poets edition I bought at Barnes & Noble on Saturday. This purchase was prompted by an email conversation I had a week ago with one of my favorite college professors, Dr. Gary M. Bouchard. Are you confused yet? A peek at Gary's St. Anselm faculty page revealed that he, too, has written about Hopkins. I was able to find an online copy of his article, "The Curious Case of Robert Southwell, Gerard Hopkins and a Princely Spanish Hawk." I started reading it on Friday, but quickly realized I'd understand it better after a perusal of "The Windhover" by Hopkins (to say nothing of Southwell's Mediations, which apparently weren't actually written by Southwell but probably inspired Hopkins — o.k, now I'm getting confused, sorry).

The conversation crossings don't end there, though. Will they ever end? Everyday, I begin my morning with a cup of coffee, my Rosary, and the current month's Magnificat. This morning, after reading the prayers for the morning, the day's Mass, meditation and saint's biography, I turned to the issue's "article of the month." I was pleased to see that it was written by Providence professor Anthony Esolen (another writer on my to-read list), but my jaw dropped when I got to the second paragraph, which began, "The poet Gerard Manley Hopkins ..."

I have a feeling about what I need to learn from Hopkins, but I won't know for sure until I read more of his work and more from Mariani, Hansen, Bouchard and Esolen. I'm excited about again embarking on an expedition of literary analysis. The challenge, of course, will be to stay the course without a college or graduate course to keep me focused. In addition, my quest faces some pretty stiff competition from six wonderful distractions named Luke, Bridget, Henry, Sam, Jack and Stella.

*****

And thus it begins, Stella has found me here at the computer. I'll leave you with two lines from Hopkins: "Sweet fire the sire of muse, my soul needs this; / I want the rapture of an inspiration."

Disappointed

2011-06-03T20:38:00.002-04:00

I just read a USA.com op-ed piece entitled "When Did College Become about Simply Landing a Fat Job?" It's a good question. Unfornately, writer Katrina Trinko does a poor job of answering it. In fact, she does a poor job of making a case for educating oneself simply to become broad minded (not the same as "open minded," as it's so often misused today) and dare I say it? — magnanimous. I think it was her intention to do so, but I can't be sure.

Trinko, who graduated from Thomas Aquinas College with a degree in philosophy and may very well have been home educated, spends more than half of her words telling us about the job outlook for college grads. When she finally gets around to encouraging her readers to go to college "to indulge that inquisitive streak and explore ideas,"she again wastes valuable characters. This time she unwisely spends them on flippant remarks like: "Sure, be practical. Learn some C++ along with that Chaucer." How about this one? "But focusing exclusively on their financial disappointment is about as smart as TPing a professor's office right before the final. (And it's less fun.)"

As for her topic sentence — you know, the one she uses to convince her readers that they should adopt her line of thinking — it's tripe: "But reducing higher education only to the pragmatic portion (and payoff) makes us just money-craving automatons, not well-rounded human beings who'd like to contemplate the world around us in addition to keeping the credit card bills paid."

Trinko's superficial treatment of the very important issue of why one should attend college perfectly reflects the superficial thought processes of the many individuals who do attend college for the wrong reasons: to get job training, because their parents expect them to, because their friends are going, because they don't know what else to do, because they want to make lots of money after they graduate.

When I was pointed to Trinko's piece, I was looking forward to reading a well-written, convincing piece on the real value of higher education. Perhaps I'll have to write it myself.

An Introduction to Christopher's Talks to Catholic Children

2011-06-02T20:57:00.000-04:00

Children's books can be wonderful sources of inspiration for adults. I have learned a great deal about math, science, religion, music and art since I began homeschooling 11 years ago, and much of what I have learned has been acquired through books written for children.

This morning, Stella fell asleep in my lap as I read to her siblings. I closed Carry On, Mr. Bowditch and knew I wouldn't be going far. Always wanting to make the most of my time, I asked Bridget to get me a book. I've written in the past about the way we focus on a particular subject each day of the week. I like to focus my own studies in the same way. Since Thursdays are for religion, I asked Bridget for Christopher's Talks to Catholic Children by David L. Greenstock. The book, originally published in 1953 (I'm pretty sure), contains wonderfully simple, yet erudite explanations of the faith. As the kids and I near the end of The Golden Children's Bible, I'm planning on letting Christopher's Talks take the place of our daily Bible stories.

In the first four of the 45 chapters, Christopher (the name chosen for the narrator, because it means "Christ-Bearer") explains who God is; introduces the angels, the devil, Adam and Eve; talks about the beginning of the world, a human's body and soul; and illustrates the mystery of the Blessed Trinity.

Christopher explains that God is a spirit, acknowledges that we can't see a spirit, but points out that we can learn a lot about God by studying what God does. His example of the air inside a balloon is a wonderfully simple model for God. We cannot see the air inside a balloon, but we can see what it does to the balloon: fills it, stretches it, and may even make it pop. "That is rather like a spirit, we cannot see it with our eyes, but we know all the same that it is there because we can see what it does" (p. 9).

I especially love Christopher's explanation of why God became man and died on the cross to atone for Adam and Eve's original sin. It goes like this:

But the loss of the friendship of God, that was the really big loss, because while man remained a friend of God, then he could get to Heaven, but once he became God's enemy, then there was no chance for him, as far as could be seen, because people do not take enemies to live with them; that would be a silly thing to do (p. 26).

When Adam and Eve insulted God by disobeying Him, they knocked down the "ladder" between Heaven and earth. God wanted the ladder put back.

Now, obviously, if God had wished, He could have forgiven Adam and Eve at once, and nothing more need have been done. But that would have been too easy altogether. God wanted to show us all two things: first, the gravity of the sin, as an offence against Him, and secondly how much He loved us. Accordingly He demanded that before the sin can be forgiven, man must make amends for it. That means that man must give God as much praise and honour as he had given insult and dishonour by the sin. The question is, can man do that if left to himself (pp. 30-31)?

Christopher's illustration of why God Himself could be the only one to make amends is brilliant. According to him, "Every insult is measured by the dignity of the person who receives the insult." Therefore, calling your friend a fool is not as insulting as calling your mother a fool, which is less insulting than calling a priest a fool.

In a similar but opposite vein, "honour is measured the other way round, by the dignity of the person who does the honouring or praising." For example, your friend telling you you're a great baseball player is not as much of an honor as Red Sox manager Terry Francona telling you you're a great baseball player.

So, here's the problem: no human has as much dignity as God, making the insult to God the greatest possible. Man did the insulting and needs to make amends, but there's no way a man can have the dignity required to make full restitution to God. How did God solve the problem and give us another chance?

Someone had to be found who would be able to put that ladder back again, or at least to put something there to join Heaven and earth again, so that we could climb up and live with God. The Person who was to do this had to be Someone very special, because it was a very hard thing to do. He had to be a man, because man had knocked the ladder down, so it was only fair that man should be made to put it up again. But He would also have to be God, since only God can give God enough praise to make up for the insult of the sin. Could such a wonderful Person be found, do you think, and where?
     God found Him. You remember that the Second Person of the Blessed Trinity is called God the Son, don't you? Well, it was God the Son; He offered Himself to His Father and said that He was willing to become a man, and to have a body and soul like ours, while still remaining God. Thus He would be able to make up for the sin of man, and at the same time, prove to us that He loved us very much. He said that He would come down on this earth like a little baby, He would live here just like any other man, He would suffer all sorts of punishments if only He could make us good again, and friends with God. That was very good of Him, wasn't it? — and it shows us better than anything else how much God loves us all.
     In this way, the very moment that Adam and Eve sinned God found a way of making up for that sin, and putting the ladder back again between Heaven and earth. When He called Adam and Eve and the devil before Him to punish them, He also told them that one day a woman would be chosen out of all the other women on this earth to be the Mother of His own Son. That Son of God, Who was also man, would live on this earth for a time, and would suffer and die to save us all. In this way the ladder would be put back between Heaven and earth: once again there would be a chance for us all to get to Heaven if we tried to be good. Here is a picture of that for you.
     There you can see how the Cross has taken the place of the ladder between Heaven and earth, and how pleased Adam and Eve are that once more they can get to Heaven (pp. 41-43).

Isn't that a beautifully simple way to wrap your mind around why God sacrificed His only Son for us?

Who's Responsible for Your Education?

2011-06-02T13:57:00.000-04:00

I go back and forth on the college issue. When I recall my college years (at St. Anselm College) and remember how much I learned, I think, "I want that for my kids, too." On the other hand, I think about how much more I would have gotten from my college education if I had been older and wiser. My parents (and scholarships) paid for my education, but my husband was responsible for paying his parents back, along with his loans. He never actually graduated. He quit with about a semester left, because he did not want to take on more debt.

Even without a degree, he has been very successful in his career, regularly recognized for his efforts and requested by salesmen. He's a solutions engineer for SAP, a company that sells enterprise software in deals that generally amount to millions of dollars in revenue for the company. Of course, Dennis deserves most of the credit for his career success (some has to go to his parents and to God). He is an incredibly hard worker with boatloads of integrity. When he left Northeastern, he moved to Colorado (he was in love with a beautiful young maiden who had moved there in search of her destiny; it was like a fairy tale, really) and got a telemarketing job at a software company in Boulder. He worked his way into a sales position. His constant hard work and willingness to learn more opened doors for him at other companies, and he's now making very good money doing something he loves.

Twenty years ago, though, life was more difficult for Dennis (at least financially). The relatively good salary he was making in his first few jobs didn't go very far, as he had college loans to pay back. Even when we first got married, he was still paying for college. I'll be the first to admit that we've (I have) made poor financial decisions in the past, but that college debt upfront was not the best way to begin a new chapter in life.

What will my kids do? I'm not sure. I do know that I won't be pushing them to take their SATs and engage in extracurricular activities simply because it will look good on a college application. I'll encourage them to do what they want to do, what they can afford to do, and I'll remind them that they are the ones responsible for their educations; not me, not any college, not any professor.

This passage from Carry On, Mr. Bowditch illustrates my point:

     Mr. Derby's secretary interrupted to say that Mr. Blunt, the publisher from Newbury, wanted to see them. A moment later an impatient young man entered the office, nodded briefly to Mr. Derby and Captain Prince, and glared at Nat.
     "I was talking to Mr. Collins," he said. "He tells me you think you found an error in Moore's Navigation!"
     "I did."
     "In which table?" Nat told him. Mr. Blunt gave a short laugh and relaxed. "Do you know who compiled that table? Nevil Maskelyne! The royal astronomer of England! You'd be as apt to find a mistake in — well — in Newton's Principia!"
     "Principia?" Nat said. "I did find an error in it. Let's see if I can quote the spot ... Well, roughly translated, it went something like this ..." And he quoted the passage and pointed out the error.
     Mr. Blunt's jaw fell. "Well, I'll be ... Where did you go to college? London? Paris? You didn't get that kind of education here! Where did you go?"
     "I didn't."
     Mr. Blunt opened his mouth twice before any sound came. Finally he said, "Er — could you point out the error in Maskelyne's table?"
     "Which one?" Nat asked. "There were several."

Accountability

2011-05-29T11:18:00.000-04:00

Seth's blog post of the day (a few days ago) is just another in a long line of posts that resonate with me. I sometimes wonder if he lives in my head. Seth writes:

Looking for the right excuse

This is the first warning sign that a project is in trouble. Sometimes it even begins before the project does.
Quietly, our subconscious starts looking around for an excuse, deniability and someone to blame. It gives us confidence and peace of mind. [It's much easier to be calm when the police car appears in your rear view mirror if you have an excuse handy.]
Amazingly, we often look for the excuse before we even accept the project. We say to ourselves, "well, I can start this, and if it doesn't work perfectly, I can point out it was the ..." Then, as the team ramps up, bosses appear and events occur (or not), we continually add to and refine our excuse list, reminding ourselves of all the factors that were out of our control. Decades ago, when I used to sell by phone, I often found myself describing why I was unable to close this particular sale--and realized I was articulating these reasons while the phone was still ringing.
People who have a built-in all-purpose excuse (middle child syndrome, wrong astrology sign, some slight at the hands of the system long ago) often end up failing--they have an excuse ready to go, so it's easier to back off when the going is rough.
Here's an alternative to the excuse-driven life: What happens if you relentlessly avoid looking for excuses at all?
Instead of seeking excuses, the successful project is filled with people who are obsessed with avoiding excuses. If you relentlessly work to avoid opportunities to use your ability to blame, you may never actually need to blame anyone. If you're not pulled over by the cop, no need to blame the speedometer, right?

I'm 43 years old. At some point in the last 15 years of my life (after becoming a mom), I realized that excuses are simply not good enough. If I need to look for an excuse, I've done something wrong. Therefore, I work hard to ensure that I am taking personal responsibility for my words and actions. (Yes, there are times when I fall down on the job, but the race is long, and the important thing is staying on course — and no, that's not an excuse, simply an acknowledgement of human fallibility.) If I want my kids to be accountable for their deeds, I need to be accountable for mine. It's about modeling, mentoring and doing the right thing.

A Reflection on Freedom

2011-05-27T13:08:00.001-04:00

"The Press is dangerous in a despotic government, but in a free country it is very useful, so long as it is free; for it is very important that people should be told everything that concerns them. If we argue against any branch of liberty, just because sometimes people abuse that liberty, then we argue against liberty itself. In a free country, the press must be free."

I imagine that most Americans would agree with this quote from Carry On, Mr. Bowditch by Jean Lee Latham. So, it leaves me to wonder why so many of them are willing to cede liberty in education, healthcare, air travel, indeed — so many areas of life — to the government.

Here's an ironic post script: I just googled "definition cede" to ensure I was using the word correctly. The first selection listed was from Dictionary.com: Verb: Give up (power or territory): "they ceded control of the schools to the government".

The Blessings of Home Education

2011-05-26T09:28:00.001-04:00

Yesterday, Sam said to me, "When can we read 'Hamlet' by Shakespeare? I want to read 'Hamlet.'"

How often do you hear that from a seven-year-old?

Exquisite Timing

2011-05-26T09:23:00.000-04:00

When Dennis is in town, he works from home, in his office upstairs. The kids and I don't see much of him during the day. On Tuesday, however, I was reading to the kids "The Tempest" from Beautiful Stories from Shakespeare for Children, when Dennis came downstairs to forage in the kitchen. I read, "And Ferdinand followed the magic singing, as the song changed to a solemn air, and the words brought grief to his heart, and tears to his eyes, for thus they ran — ." I then started in on "Full fathom five ...," and a voice boomed from the kitchen:

"Full fathom five thy father lies;
Of his bones are coral made.
Those are pearls that were his eyes,
Nothing of him that doth fade,
But doth suffer a sea-change
Into something rich and strange.
Sea-nymphs hourly ring his knell.
Hark! Now I hear them —, ding dong bell!"

The kids were impressed, and Dennis explained, "I figured I had to memorize something from Shakespeare, and it wasn't going to be one of Hamlet's soliloquies."

The Real Cost of Too Much Higher Education?

2011-05-19T18:13:00.000-04:00

I like Mike. Mike Rowe, that is. The host of Discovery Channel's Dirty Jobs is a funny, affable guy who oozes common sense. "Head first, feet second, safety third," he often reminds his audience.

Mr. Rowe recently testified in front of the U.S. Senate Committee on Commerce, Science, and Transportation. His purpose in appearing before the committee was to remind its members of the negative consequences of the government's push to have seemingly every American get a college degree.

I learned about his testimony from a member of the TJEdMuse group (filled with wise and wonderful women), and it adds a new dimension to my ponderings on the value of higher education.

This is what Mike said:

Chairman Rockefeller, Ranking Member Hutchison and members of this committee, my name is Mike Rowe, and I want to thank you all very much for the opportunity to testify before you today.

I'm here today because of my grandfather. His name was Carl Knobel, and he made his living in Baltimore as a master electrician. He was also a plumber, a mechanic, a mason, and a carpenter. Everyone knew him as a jack-of-all-trades. I knew him as a magician.

For most of his life, my grandfather woke up clean and came home dirty. In between, he accomplished things that were nothing short of miraculous. Some days he might re-shingle a roof. Or rebuild a motor. Or maybe run electricity out to our barn. He helped build the church I went to as a kid, and the farmhouse my brothers and I grew up in. He could fix or build anything, but to my knowledge he never once read the directions. He just knew how stuff worked.

I remember one Saturday morning when I was 12. I flushed the toilet in the same way I always had. The toilet however, responded in a way that was completely out of character. There was a rumbling sound, followed by a distant gurgle. Then, everything that had gone down reappeared in a rather violent and spectacular fashion.

Naturally, my grandfather was called in to investigate, and within the hour I was invited to join he and my dad in the front yard with picks and shovels.

By lunch, the lawn was littered with fragments of old pipe and mounds of dirt. There was welding and pipe-fitting, blisters and laughter, and maybe some questionable language. By sunset we were completely filthy. But a new pipe was installed, the dirt was back in the hole, and our toilet was back on its best behavior. It was one of my favorite days ever.

Thirty years later in San Francisco my toilet blew up again. This time, I didn't participate in the repair process. I just called my landlord, left a check on the kitchen counter, and went to work. When I got home, the mess was cleaned up and the problem was solved. As for the actual plumber who did the work, I never even met him.

It occurred to me that I had become disconnected from a lot of things that used to fascinate me. I no longer thought about where my food came from, or how my electricity worked, or who fixed my pipes, or who made my clothes. There was no reason to. I had become less interested in how things got made, and more interested in how things got bought.

At this point my grandfather was well into his 80s, and after a long visit with him one weekend, I decided to do a TV show in his honor. Today, Dirty Jobs is still on the air, and I am here before this committee, hoping to say something useful. So, here it is.

I believe we need a national PR Campaign for Skilled Labor. A big one. Something that addresses the widening skills gap head on, and reconnects the country with the most important part of our workforce.

Right now, American manufacturing is struggling to fill 200,000 vacant positions. There are 450,000 openings in trades, transportation and utilities. The skills gap is real, and it's getting wider. In Alabama, a third of all skilled tradesmen are over 55. They're retiring fast, and no one is there to replace them.

Alabama's not alone. A few months ago in Atlanta I ran into Tom Vilsack, our Secretary of Agriculture. Tom told me about a governor who was unable to move forward on the construction of a power plant. The reason was telling. It wasn't a lack of funds. It wasn't a lack of support. It was a lack of qualified welders.

In general, we're surprised that high unemployment can exist at the same time as a skilled labor shortage. We shouldn't be. We've pretty much guaranteed it.

In high schools, the vocational arts have all but vanished. We've elevated the importance of "higher education" to such a lofty perch that all other forms of knowledge are now labeled "alternative." Millions of parents and kids see apprenticeships and on-the-job-training opportunities as "vocational consolation prizes," best suited for those not cut out for a four-year degree. And still, we talk about millions of "shovel ready" jobs for a society that doesn't encourage people to pick up a shovel.

In a hundred different ways, we have slowly marginalized an entire category of critical professions, reshaping our expectations of a "good job" into something that no longer looks like work. A few years from now, an hour with a good plumber — "if you can find one" — is going to cost more than an hour with a good psychiatrist. At which point we'll all be in need of both.

I came here today because guys like my grandfather are no less important to civilized life than they were 50 years ago. Maybe they're in short supply because we don't acknowledge them they way we used to. We leave our check on the kitchen counter, and hope the work gets done. That needs to change.

My written testimony includes the details of several initiatives designed to close the skills gap, all of which I've had the privilege to participate in. Go Build Alabama, I Make America, and my own modest efforts through Dirty Jobs and mikeroweWORKS. I'm especially proud to announce "Discover Your Skills," a broad-based initiative from Discovery Communications that I believe can change perceptions in a meaningful way.

I encourage you to support these efforts, because closing the skills gap doesn't just benefit future tradesmen and the companies desperate to hire them. It benefits people like me, and anyone else who shares my addiction to paved roads, reliable bridges, heating, air conditioning, and indoor plumbing.

The skills gap is a reflection of what we value. To close the gap, we need to change the way the country feels about work.

Should Government be in the Education Business?

2011-05-18T16:05:00.000-04:00

"Your pa had education. He could go anywhere. He could have been anything." -- Jacob Finney to Johannes Verne in The Lonesome Gods by Louis L'Amour.

Education is obviously important to success in life and the functioning of a free society. I think few would argue that point, which is why so many of us take for granted these two points 1.) all children should be entitled to a free, public education, and 2.) a college degree is important (even necessary?) for success in life. Are either of these necessarily true? Have you ever stopped to think about them? Can you even to begin to imagine a world in which there is no public school down the road, a world in which there are no yellow school buses going past your house at 7:30 am and 3:00 pm? Can you imagine holding your head up and proudly proclaiming to your friends that your 18-year-old will not be heading off to college in the fall?

I'd like to concentrate on that second point, the one about a college degree.

A few days ago, I wrote a post titled, "Is Higher Education Worth the Price?" (Dennis, by the way, weighed in with a comment here.) A day or two after that, I watched a documentary that answers that question with an unequivocal "NO!"

College Conspriracy is a video produced by the National Inflation Association, an organization that touts its mission as "Preparing Americans for Hyperinflation." The production makes a strong case for the notions that 1.) the federal government has ruined higher education in this country and 2.) Americans have been essentially sold into indentured servitude by the colleges/universities, the federal government and the media. Here are the documentary's opening lines:

From the time an American child reaches the sixth grade, they are taught that the key to success in life is to do well in high school so that they can get accepted to the best possible college. The better grades they get in high school, the better college they will have an opportunity to get into. They are taught that if they get into a great college, and get their college degree, any type of job they desire, in the field of their choice, will be there waiting for them. After getting their dream job, they will be able to buy any car and house they desire, start their own family, and live the American Dream. Most Americans today have an expectation of future economic success simply by obtaining a college degree. The entire purpose of elementary school is to prepare students for high school, and the entire purpose of high school is to prepare students for college. ... Students are taught to believe that if they don't go to college, they will be on a path to nowhere and will have no chance of ever building a successful career.

The narrator points out that there are no high schools left in America that teach students how to start their own business, invent their own product, or how to use the internet and other free resources to educate themselves, without attending college.

According to the video, the average annual cost to attend the average, private, four-year college in America is $27,293, up 29% from five years ago. Most interesting about this figure is that it has risen 5.15% over the past five years, despite the fact that real estate prices have plunged, the Dow Jones is down, and even oil is down "28% from its peak in July 2008." The narrator goes on to say that Americans lost 10.2 trillion dollars in paper wealth during the financial crisis of 2008. "... and college is the only thing in America, besides the cost of healthcare, that did not, at least temporarily, decline in price."

College Conspiracy features a number of talking heads, the most interesting one being Gerald Celente, editor of The Trends Journal. "... But they brainwash ya from a little kid up, so that you'll buy into the system. And you get good grades, and you study hard, and you become a member of the total system. No freedom. You don't know how to think, because they told you how to think THEIR way."

The documentary calls government student loans, and government-guaranteed student loans "The College Bubble," and it's even bigger than the Real Estate Bubble the government created through Fannie Mae and Freddie Mac. Total student loan debt in the US now totals $830 billion and exceeds credit card debt.

The US Government has been trying for decades to make college more affordable, but its actions have accomplished the complete opposite effect. College is now impossible for most students to afford without getting deeply into debt to do so. ... Back in the 1970s, the average college student was able to afford their college tuition without any student loans or help from their parents. ... The US Government destroyed this by providing easy student loans to anybody who applied for them without any credit requirements. ... If there was a true, free market in college education, colleges would be figuring out more cost-efficient ways to educate students using modern technology, in order to bring tuitions down and compete against each other for the enrollment of students. By guaranteeing student loans and providing too much financial aid to students, the US Government destroyed the free market in college education.

This was an interesting little tidbit:

Hidden inside the recently passed healthcare bill, the government passed a complete student loan overhaul, where they removed commercial banks from providing loans to students. Now, all students will receive their loans directly from the government at artificially low interest rates.

I found the observations of Guy McPherson, professor emeritus at the University of Arizona, especially trenchant.

When I graduated from my undergraduate degree, I had $300 in student loans that I owed. ... When I graduated with my undergraduate degree, what you got, in exchange for your education was lifetime indenture and a new house. Right? So, you got to buy the mortgage. That's what you got. You got your degree, you got out of school, you got a job, and therefore you bought a house, because culture drives you to buy a house. So now you're in debt. You have to work. Now, you have to be part of the wage slave economy, for the next 20 or 30 years until the house is paid off. These days, college is the new house, and you don't even get the house. As soon as you get out of school, you're indentured for life.

OK, you say, the cost of college is crazy expensive, and the government has driven that, BUT my child stills needs to go to college in order to live a successful life. Maybe; maybe not. Perhaps it's time to change that model — shift the paradigm — since the current one may very well be obsolete.

As fast as college tuition costs are rising, the value of a college degree is declining even faster. The youth in America today need to be taught to think for themselves and realize that there is no value to having a college degree, if everyone else has one. ... One of the greatest myths in America today, that is used to scam Americans into overpaying to attend college, is that college graduates make more money in their lives than Americans without college degrees, and therefore, a college degree is a great investment. According to studies from biased organizations like the College Board, Americans with college degrees will earn one million dollars in additional income over their lifetime, compared to high school graduates with no college degrees.

That $1-million figure, however, does not take into account the fact that most college graduates who earn that extra million bucks actually put in six years in the world of higher education, not four. Further, it does not factor in the actual cost of college (six years of tuition), the interest on education loans, or the wages that will not be earned while in college. When those costs are factored in, that $1 million turns into a figure closer to $500,000.

There are plenty of inflammatory statements in the documentary, and the "facts" may be exaggerated, but for the most part, College Conspiracy has simply confirmed the opinions, observations and thoughts I've encountered, made and formulated in the past year or more. The video is an hour long, but I urge you to make the time for viewing it. Going to college, or sending one's child off to college, is an expensive proposition. Don't make decisions that will have life-long consequences without doing some research that involves more than just, "What majors does this university offer?"

What's Wrong With Thomas Jefferson Education?

2011-05-15T20:51:00.000-04:00

On one of my online groups, a member decided to take the philosophy of Thomas Jefferson Education and its “founder” Oliver DeMille to task. I felt compelled to respond:

And there are Catholics out there who condemn Charlotte Mason and her philosophies (and come this close to saying Catholics will go to hell for adapting her methods) because … gasp! … she was a protestant. See here: http://catholic_homeschool.tripod.com/cmasonmethod.html

One of the blogs you sent a link for has no profile. Who wrote this stuff? What is his agenda? Why does he have such a problem with DeMille?

Another one of your linked blog posts takes DeMille to task for promoting his philosophy. Well, why wouldn’t he promote his philosophy? The blogger seems to have a problem with DeMille “making promises” that might not pan out. In Seth Godin’s books and blog posts, I’ve read strategy after strategy for becoming successful. Should I sue Mr. Godin if I try his advice and don’t get rich?

I’ve read most of Oliver DeMille’s books (started re-reading A Thomas Jefferson Education Home Companion just yesterday) and have never come across anything that exults The Book of Mormon above all else. Yes, it is true that DeMille is a Mormon, and many Mormons have embraced Leadership Education. It’s akin to Catholics “glomming” onto classical education, because Catholic Laura Berquist has promoted it. In fact, DeMille talks about the importance of having a central work for each family and points out that it could be the Bible, the Declaration of Independence, etc.

DeMille (and Leadership Education) stresses independent learning for older children, the study of classic works, and mentors who lead the way by focusing on their own scholarship. Leadership Education is not about workbooks or rote learning or artificial timetables (such as, kids should learn to read by age 6). It’s about freedom, personal responsibility, reading original works (not another’s take on those works), and family closeness. Perhaps most telling, it’s about individuality: using the Leadership Education methods with materials appropriate for your family, your scholars, your beliefs.

While I have little respect for leaders who promote noble causes while hypocritically not living nobly themselves (Father Marcial Maciel Degollado of the Legionaries of Christ comes to mind), I see little hypocrisy in Oliver DeMille: living his personal faith and encouraging others to do the same. I’m not overly concerned with DeMille’s personal education background, as degrees mean little to me. (I’ve dealt with too many master’s degree-wielding business people who can’t write a sentence). I also don’t judge him on mistakes he’s made in the past. I’ve made plenty of my own.

If you read Andrew Campbell’s Latin-Centered Curriculum, you’ll find that he indicts Laura Berquist’s philosophies (and Charlotte Mason’s and Oliver DeMille’s). If you read Catholic homeschool “experts,” you’ll find that many of them recommend books by anti-Catholic publishers. A Beka books are listed in Berquist’s Designing Your Own Classical Curriculum. Should we jettison Mrs. Berquist and her methods?

I’m a member of an online Thomas Jefferson Education group. Its members are Catholic, protestant, Buddhist, atheist. I’ve found everyone in the group to be thoughtful, courteous, independent and encouraging of making the philosophy work for your own personal beliefs and morals. In contrast, I just left an online Catholic group because the discussions there have no bearing on my life. In fact, there are many Catholic homeschool “experts” I simply have no use for.

The ladies on the Thomas Jefferson Education group do promote educational opportunities at George Wythe University and encourage participation in various seminars and workshops, because they find value in them. That sort of thing does not appeal to me, and when I see the posts, I simply delete them. When the Mormon members wax poetic about Mormon topics, I roll my eyes before deleting the messages. I do the same for posts (in any of my groups) promoting a liberal agenda or an I’m-holier-than-the-pope attitude.

The point is that everyone has an agenda: Mormons, Catholics, Baptists, mothers-in-law, public school teachers, religious education directors, college professors, authors, historians, biographers, nightly news anchors, Catholic journalists (I know; I was one). In fact, I have a hard time reading any of Seton’s publications to my kids, because the Catholic slant is so over-the-top, it’s generally unbelievable. I’m not naive; and I don’t want my kids to be. We openly discuss the agendas of liberal politicians (like our president), liberal priests (like our pastor), conservative talk show hosts, libertarian economists and historical figures like Lincoln, Columbus and Cortez (do you really believe that the most important thing in the world to him and other explorers like Narvaez and DeSoto was converting natives to Catholicism?).

So, it seems to me, that the most important questions to ask when considering a homeschool philosophy are: Does this ring true to me? Can I make it work for my family? How can I use this method to teach my children the virtues, morals and subjects that are important to me? What are my goals as an educator? Will this help me accomplish my goals?

Is Higher Education Worth the Price?

2011-05-15T15:41:00.000-04:00

It's a question that plagues me. According to Dennis, higher education is not worth the price of admission (that's an oversimplification, but I'll not try to explain further). I believe him, but then those doubts creep in, and I tell myself that he's crazy. This is an issue that I need to explore further. I don't have the wherewithal to do much exploring (or writing, for that matter) right now. I'll simply paste in this blog post by Seth Godin. Just about every word that man writes makes sense to me. What I need, though, is a well-planned, alternative strategy for my kids. Neither they, nor Dennis, nor I have that as yet.

http://sethgodin.typepad.com/seths_blog/2011/04/buying-an-education-or-buying-a-brand.html

Buying an education or buying a brand?

It’s reported that student debt in the USA is approaching a trillion dollars, five times what it was ten years ago.
Are those in debt buying more education or are they seeking better branding in the form of coveted diplomas?
Does a $40,000 a year education that comes with an elite degree deliver ten times the education of a cheaper but no less rigorous self-generated approach assembled from less famous institutions and free or inexpensive resources?
If not, then the money is actually being spent on the value of the degree, on the doors it will open and the jobs it will snag. If this marketing strategy works big, it pays for itself in no time.
A marketing tactic might move the dial, but that doesn’t mean it’s always worth the money.
The question is whether a trillion dollars is the right amount for individuals to spend marketing themselves. What would happen if people spent it building up a work history instead? On becoming smarter, more flexible, more self-sufficient and yes, able to take more risk because they owe less money…
There’s no doubt that we need smarter and more motivated people in our organizations. I’m not sure we need them to be better labeled or more accredited.

Quick Post: Thomas Jefferson Education vs. Classical Education

2011-05-03T09:19:00.000-04:00

The topic of Thomas Jefferson Education has come up a lot in on of my online homeschool groups, as of late. One mom recently asked me about the differences between Thomas Jefferson Education and classical programs like The Latin-Centered Curriculum (I've read this), or The Well-Trained Mind (I have not read this, but am familiar with the concept). This is what I wrote to her:

I think the main difference between the classical programs and Thomas Jefferson Education is the timetable and who decides what will be taught. The classical programs strike me more as filling a bucket: "you must teach this at this age and make sure your students memorize this before they reach age ten." In Thomas Jefferson Education, traditional subjects are not really focused on until the children are able to decide for themselves what they want to study (around age 10). Before that, the parents focus on teaching basics like virtues, the difference between right and wrong, etc.. The kids spend lots of time playing and exploring. Mom spends time everyday reading to the kids and doing "kidschool," in which she focuses on a topic. It might be baking a pizza together and discussing fractions. Most importantly, Mom spends time on her own education, setting the example and showing her kids, firsthand, the importance of educating themselves.

Thomas Jefferson Education is difficult in that it goes against everything we've been taught in schools, and it can be hard to just let go and trust the process. If you'd like reinforcement for the philosophy that kids do not need to spend a lot of time on academics in the early years, pick up a copy of The Successful Homeschool Family Handbook by Raymond and Dorothy Moore. It's filled with research on the ways in which children learn best and refutes the notion of teaching your children as much as possible as soon as possible.

How Did Jackson Pollack Know When to Stop?

2011-05-02T13:09:00.001-04:00

The kids and I tried impasto painting, thickening tempera paints with cornstarch and using popsicle sticks for palette knives. Most of our efforts ended up being pretty abstract. I'd like to call Stella my masterpiece, but I guess it'd be more accurate to say she's a self-portrait, since she was the one applying the paint.

Stella likes to be in the middle of the action.

Sam's hard at work.

Bridget went with a floral theme.

Our supplies got a little messy.

Detail of Stella.

Luke painted autumn leaves.

I love Jack's use of color.

Sam shows off one of his paintings.

Science Gets a Turn on Fridays

2011-03-18T21:24:00.000-04:00

Last week, I placed an order with Rainbow Resource Center. The box arrived the other day. Quite often, I barely find the time to open a package, much less savor what I've received. I did, however, spend a little time looking through the science books I ordered.

We have an extensive collection of Let's Read and Find Out books (and it grew larger this week). These are slim, little, illustrated gems, divided into two levels, according to intended audience. We have LRFO books on bubbles, milk, frogs, dinosaurs, pumpkins... Added this week were volumes dealing with light, energy, gravity, and more.

I generally pick a title at random and read it. No matter what the subject is, it elicits thoughtful questions and intelligent comments from the kids. Today, I chose Snakes are Hunters, and followed it up with Verdi by Jannell Cannon. We read about garter snakes and rattlesnakes, learned that some snakes have "pits" on their faces for sensing heat, and found out that anacondas can grow up to 33 feet long and have as many as 88 babies at a time. Of course, we had to go online and check out photos of anacondas, pythons and rattlesnakes. I'm not sure that was a good idea. I have a feeling I may end up with a few extra kids in my bed tonight.

Thursdays are for Religion

2011-03-17T19:20:00.001-04:00

The kids and I pray and read a story from the Golden Children's Bible each day we do lessons, but on Thursdays, we add other Catholic books to the mix. Since today is St. Patrick's Day, the obvious choice was to read about the saint who returned to Ireland, after escaping slavery there, to convert the Irish to Christianity. Although we do have Tomie dePaola's book on Ireland's patron saint, I was unable to put my hands on it today. I read to the kids from Amy Wellborn's Book of Saints.

It's safe to say that we didn't really learn anything new about Patrick, but Wellborn's account was a good review. Later in the day, I mixed up a batch of sugar cookie dough, then rolled out and baked up about a dozen shamrock cookies in time for our afternoon tea. Henry and Sam took over later, creating more edible symbols of the Blessed Trinity.

Math is the Focus on Wednesdays

2011-03-16T17:04:00.000-04:00

Today, the kids and I read the first chapter of Math: A Book You Can Count On by Basher and Dan Green. We love Basher's books. He is an illustrator who makes subjects like punctuation and the periodic table of the elements come alive by turning commas, apostrophes, helium and gold into cute, memorable characters with a lot to say about themselves.

In the first chapter of his math book, "The Number Bunch," we met Zero, Infinity, Minus Numbers, Fraction, Decimal Fraction, and Units.

Did you know that Zero has extraordinary powers? "Put my digit at the end of a number and I make the number ten times larger — leaping from 1 to 10 to 100 to 1,000 and so on forever. And then there's the curse of Zero. Divide by me and your calculator will return a big fat ERROR! Multiply by me and any number — no matter how large — vanishes, reduced to ... well, Zero."

Infinity is a wise, old character, full of zen-like calm. He has this to say about himself: "You'll never pin me down. I'm Infinity, beyond what you can even begin to imagine. Inconceivable! Okay, start counting: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6 ... And keep on counting: 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12 ... And then count some more — and some more and some more. Hey, you say, this could go on forever. That's just the point! I exist, sure enough, and yet you will never reach me. I'm that endless road that teasingly keeps on disappearing off into the unknown."

Minus Numbers are quick to point out that they don't play nice: "We are the beasts who live under the stairs. Count backward on the number scale: 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1. It's like blastoff, isn't it? Then you reach the dark guardian of the gate, Zero. After that, you're with us, my friend, lurking in the dusty depths: -1, -2, -3, -4, -5, -6, -7 ..."

Fraction and Decimal Fraction are closely related, but Fraction, whose first known use was in China around 2800 BC, is much older than Decimal Fraction, who was first used by the Arabs in the 900s AD. Fraction is a "shadowy figure lurking in the gaps between whole numbers." In contrast, Decimal Fraction is "neat and orderly."

Units is the last of the Number Bunch, and they have coworkers who include rulers and stopwatches. "We are crack teams, highly trained, orderly, and ready for action. Our mission? To sort out the number world's measuring problems. How long is a football field? Call in our specialist yard Unit. How much soda is there in that big bottle? The liter squad are the guys for you. How heavy is the cat? Hooray! Here comes the pound brigade."

Spelling, Writing and Grammar on Tuesdays

2011-03-15T22:26:00.001-04:00

Today's focus was verbs. We read Kites Sail High: A Book About Verbs by Ruth Heller, and followed it up with a simple exercise. I had Luke, Bridget, Henry and Sam each write ten two-word sentences. I wrote down the sentences Sam came up with. He has always used more words than necessary when talking, and when he tried to come up with ten sentences, more often than not, they included three or more words. We persevered, though, and he created ten two-worders.

We have four of Ruth Heller's luciously illustrated books on parts of speech. In addition to the book on verbs, we have Merry-Go-Round: A Book About Nouns; Up, Up and Away: A Book About Adverbs; and Fantastic! Wow! And Unreal!: A Book About Interjections and Conjunctions.

I'll include a few excerpts from Kites Sail High, along with many photos.

A VERB is really the most superb of any word you've ever heard ....

Verbs tell you something's being done.

Roses BLOOM

and people RUN.

Pelicans FLY,

Kites SAIL high

and rabbits quickly MULTIPLY.

* * *

IS, AM and ARE, and WAS and WERE,

and BEING, BEEN and BE

are LINKING VERBS and, as you can see,

show no activity.

* * *

The SUBJUNCTIVE MOOD expresses a wish ...

or uses the words "as though" or "if."

If I WERE a fish,

as if that COULD BE,

I'd SWIM in a beautiful, tropical sea.

Art on Mondays

2011-03-14T16:21:00.000-04:00

The kids and I have long had a good, daily routine in place. Generally, at some point before noon, most of us come together to say the Pledge of Allegiance and our morning prayers. From that point, I read to them: a Bible story, some poetry, a selection from The Book of Virtues, a chapter or two from the history book we happen to be reading (very often a biography), and perhaps a picture book or two.After that, the kids generally work on individual lessons.

A couple of months ago, I decided to dedicate each day of the week to a different subject and focus on that. Here's the drill: Mondays — art; Tuesdays — Communication (grammar, spelling, writing): Wednesdays — Math; Thursdays — Religion; Fridays — Science.

Since today is Monday, we focused on art. I read two picture books to the kids, one written for the upper elementary level, the other for the early elementary level. The first was Redouté, The Man Who Painted Flowers by Carolyn Croll, and the second was Katie and the Sunflowers by James Mayhew.

After lunch, I challenged the kids to draw flowers on colored paper (which gave me a chance to de-stash my scrapbooking supplies). They could choose from watercolor pencils, watercolor crayons or markers.

Jack, of course, used markers and drew whatever his imagination told him to draw (essentially a bunch of lines). He did, however, show a very creative spark by dipping the markers in the water.

Sam whined about having to draw a flower. He wanted to draw a motorcyle. I told him to just "draw five petals: a simple flower." He did so, then moved on to the motorcycle, using watercolor crayons and markers.

Luke stuck to markers and was surprised by how much the dark paper changed their colors. He attempted a tulip and ended up adding a frog to it.

Bridget was perfectly comfortable with the assignment, and challenged herself with a bouquet of flowers from a Martha Steward gardening book. She learned a thing or two about the best way to apply the watercolor crayons.

Henry seemed to have learned the most. Starting out by carefully trying to draw some flowers with markers, he scrapped that work after watching me make crazy, fast lines in the general shapes of flower petals and leaves. Henry moved next to me, where he'd have access to the crayons, and immediately loosened up, drawing lines that approximated the shapes of peonies with ants on them (like in the backyard), all the while trying to create the effect of Van Gogh's brushstrokes in "Starry Night."

Stella, thankfully, slept through the entire art lesson.

Miscalculating Risks

2011-01-21T16:23:00.000-05:00

I'm in the process of reading Linchpin: Are You Indispensible? by Seth Godin, and I get his blog posts delivered to my inbox daily. The man continues to impress me with his insights. He writes books marketed as business, but his points apply to all of life.

I found the blog post Seth published today especially salient. He wrote:

Misjudging risk (and bad decisions)

The perception of risk is skewed when bad outcomes are vivid, personal and immediate.

Given the choice between working on the important and the urgent, the urgent almost always wins.

Given the choice between avoiding the rare but grisly outcome or doing the hard work to avoid the equally nasty, more subtle but more common outcome, we usually go for the grisly.

We do this sort of miscalculation all the time at work. We avoid the hard work on the long-term project in order to panic and rush about to avoid the possible vivid, immediate and personal risk on the short-term project, even if it's far less important.

(Think about this the next time you're in the security line at the airport).

This is one reason why the media is so complicit in many of the issues of the day... they take concepts that were previously abstract and relentlessly make them vivid, personal and immediate. It amplifies the risks around us and easily sells us on a cycle of dissatisfaction.

If you want to create action on the important, figure out how to make it vivid, personal and immediate.

For eight years, I've researched celiac disease and gluten's disastrous effects on health. Over and over and over, I've tried to help people. Over and over and over, they've laughed at me, told me I'm crazy, made snide comments behind my back (at least they thought it was behind my back), humored me, or challenged me. A few, rare individuals have actually taken my advice. Rarer still are the ones who have thanked me for it. I now largely keep my thoughts to myself, censoring most before they come out of my mouth. I reach out only when I feel absolutely compelled to do so, and it's usually to strangers, who are always much more receptive. I've tried very hard to see things from others' points of view, but I still find myself puzzled by their reaction. Thanks to Seth, though, I'm seeing things more clearly.

When I figured out I had celiac disease, I gave up gluten immediately, and immediately felt better. There were no more excruciating abdominal cramps and trips to the bathroom. When I've accidentally gotten gluten, it hasn't taken me long to realize it. In other words, I've gotten immediate feedback. Since the risks from eating gluten are so real to me, I'll work hard to avoid them. The people I know who have gone gluten-free and have remained gluten free have done so because they've seen immediate, positive results.

Those who have not tried the diet, or have abandoned it prematurely, are generally those without obvious gastrointestinal symptoms. I would have recommended the diet to them because they have other symptoms of celiac disease: migraines, depression, anemia, infertility, recurrent miscarriage and other reproductive issues, autoimmune disorders, and even short stature.

I understand those people much better now. Why try, or stick with, a diet that makes life more difficult, if they see no immediate benefit to doing so? Undigested gluten in the bloodstream may be attacking their thyroid gland or their liver or screwing up their reproductive system and may even lead to cancer. But these conditions are not "vivid, personal and immediate." They may already be getting relief from their symptoms by taking a pill or undergoing surgery. The question is: are they miscalculating, because the immediate short-term risk simply isn't real enough?

Interestingly, the phenomenon Seth discusses also relates to home education. While I have no regrets about choosing homeschooling, I sometimes fall into the trap of worrying about immediate risks. What if my children aren't learning enough? What if they do poorly on the standardized tests? What if I'm not making the right decisions? It's at times like these that my head gets filled with thoughts like these: We don't do enough. I should put my kids in school. They'd be better off in school, where I can be sure they're learning whatever it is they "should" be learning. With grades and test scores, I'll be able to measure their performance. I can be sure all the boxes have been checked.

These are fears about immediate risks, but when I focus on them, I'm losing sight of the important, long-term, more subtle goals. I want my children to become the people God wants them to be, and I think they have the best chance of accomplishing this by spending most of their time here at home, with their family, not with a bunch of kids who happen to be the same age and happen to live in the same area, and not by memorizing the the things a school board has deemed it important for them to "learn."

Thanks to Seth, I now know that I have to focus on the important, not the immediate.

Collage of Choice

2011-01-17T13:30:00.001-05:00

Today, the kids and I looked at, and discussed, the artwork in What Your Preschooler Needs to Know. The What Your ... series can provide a good jumping-off point for lessons. Feel like focusing on art today? Which artists are featured in one of the What Your ... books? Science? Hmm ... let's take a look at a What Your ... book.

I have to say, though, that the political correctness is incredibly annoying. For instance, The Preschooler's art section features the painting, "Noah's Ark" by Edward Hicks. Here's some of the commentary from the book: "This painting tells the story of a man named Noah, who lived a long, long time ago. Noah heard that a big rainstorm was coming, so big it might cause a terrible flood." Excuse me? "Noah heard?" Wrong. Noah was told by GOD. The storm "might cause a terrible flood?" God was going to destroy the world; there was no "might" about it.

That notwithstanding, the artwork in the book was interesting to look at and discuss. It included paintings, sculpture and collages. Since I have pounds and pounds of scrapbooking paper, I decided we'd go with the collage theme and make a few ourselves.

I helped Jack with his. He told me what he wanted to create (two friends) what color each component should be (a blue head?), and I cut out the shapes. Jack helped paste them down with Mod Podge. We entitled our work "Light Blue Hair and White Hair — Two Friends."

Sam didn't get very adventurous with his use of color, preferring a subdued palette of white and blue on an orange background and focusing on shapes with right angles. He named his work "Rocket Sled."

Henry loves drums and guitars, so his work, "The Band," features those instruments and a microphone.

Luke generally claims to possess no creativity, but I was impressed with his penguin, named after a favorite Bloom County character.

Bridget's creativity gets a workout every, single day. She had fun creating the face of woman. I love the long, wavy hair.

Botany Lab

2010-10-04T18:01:00.001-04:00

Sam, Jack and I have been reading lots of books on seeds, trees and leaves. We've also embarked on a few experiments to bring what we're learning in the books to life (pun alive). In the photos above, you can see (from top to bottom) our research involving: planted popcorn kernels; lettuce leaf decomposition; avocado pits (the guacamole was fabulous); lime seeds; leaf respiration; and capillary action in stems.

Getting Back in the Swing

2010-09-23T09:47:00.001-04:00

I've missed this blog, but since we started lessons on September 6th, my head and life have chock-a-block with thoughts, books, ideas, I-have-to's, and don't-forgets. Blah! I don't even know what to write next. So I'll stop, and simply add photos from our first day of "school," when we did lessons in the morning and visited the Coastal Maine Botanical Gardens (a magical place) in the afternoon.

Thoughts on Leadership Education: Two

2010-06-14T22:11:00.001-04:00

"The conveyor belt and leadership models of education disagree about how to educate most effectively. Indeed they are based on totally different assumptions and have very different goals. Knowing those differences is essential to anyone trying to get off the conveyor belt, since it is not enough to merely change behaviors; you must also change paradigms" (Leadership Education: The Phases of Learning, p. 13).

I skipped ahead to chapter one, but will be heading back to the introduction. I don't want to miss a word. It's very appropriate that I read the above sentences this evening, though. After passing along a link for the movie Race to Nowhere, I've gotten emails from friends weighing in or asking questions. I find it difficult to discuss the subject of education with them, though. We're coming from different starting points; our views are based on opposing paradigms; their comments stem from assumptions I don't make. Ironically, one has children in public school, while the other home educates. Both of them view education through the lens of the conveyor belt.

I'm left with something of a dilemma — do I get involved in a lengthy debate, trying to get my point across, or do I recognize the futility of doing so and give up? While the pie-in-the-sky, I-can-change-the-world side of me thinks the time I invest will be well spent, the realistic (and cynical) side of me says to give up. Therefore, I'll compromise. With one, I'll simply address that person's talking points, concentrating on the areas in which we agree — in essence, remaining neutral. With the other, I'll look for common ground and try to challenge at least a few of that person's assumptions.

The Blessings of Home Education

2010-06-09T10:37:00.001-04:00

The kids get to spend lots of time together: playing, helping each other, being silly, and becoming friends.

Thoughts on Leadership Education: One

2010-06-08T21:08:00.000-04:00

"The education of tomorrow's leaders determines the future" (Leadership Education: the Phases of Learning by Oliver and Rachel DeMille, page 1). What are kids taught in public schools? They are taught to worship the environment, because teachers can't tell them about God. They are taught that each of them is special. But why? If you can't talk about God in school, you can't tell your students that they, as individuals, are special due to the fact that they are made in the image and likeness of God. And you can't tell them that the dignity of every other person in the world — because they, too, are created in the image and likeness of God — demands respect.

Educators and parents think they are leveling the playing field by providing the same education for all, but God leveled the playing field when He created humanity. So, kids are offered the same bits of "knowledge," but not all of them embrace it or even accept it. Then, the students' work is graded, and the playing field becomes anything but level. Straight-A students are treated differently than those who receive C's or D's or F's. Where does this lead? If kids fall short at the one opportunity they're offered — a classroom education — what becomes of them? How many kids who don't go on to college, because "school just isn't for them," have the fortitude to do the work that will lead to success in life?

While there are some excellent school teachers out there — teachers who devote a lot of time and effort to helping every one of their students succeed— does the public school model, as a whole, recognize the individuality of each student and encourage every one to succeed by capitalizing on their own strengths and interests?

Readers chuckled when Peppermint Patty received a certificate stating she was in the D-minus Hall of Fame, but did any readers question the absurdity of expecting a child to excel at something she has absolutely no interest in?

My Alma Mater

2010-05-12T10:27:00.001-04:00

I recently sent an email about St. Anselm College to the members of one of my online homeschool groups. One member wrote back, asking some specific questions about the school. My response was rather long, but I think it makes for a good post here.

To be honest, I went to St. Anselm because I had no choice. My sister was a sophomore there when I was a freshman. She was a nursing student. I had been accepted to Holy Cross in Worcester and wanted to go there, but my mother insisted that I attend St. A's with my sister. One thing that I've noticed about myself in recent years is that, although I don't readily jump into new situations, I make the most of them when I get there. God was definitely at work in that situation. I was raised Catholic and never really complained about going to weekly Mass or CCD (my brother did), but that was pretty much the extent of religion in our home. We didn't even say grace. Going to St. A's was my first step in embracing Catholicism, rather than simply going through the motions.

The core curriculum was wonderful. The first humanities unit was on The Iliad. The entire freshman class had to read it, then discuss in small seminar groups. Everyone around me (mostly nursing and pre-med majors) groaned about the book, but I loved it. While I was a bit unsure about sharing my opinions at first, I soon became comfortable enough. I remember a fabulous debate I had with another English major in a junior-year, Major American Writers class. I was insisting that Moby Dick worked because Melville knew his readers would engage the phenomenon of the willing suspension of disbelief. Pete, on the other hand, insisted that Moby Dick could not be classified as good literature, because Ishmael, the narrator, told the reader things he couldn't possibly know.

If you have a child interested in nursing, the program at St. A's is very good and very well regarded. My sister had her choice of jobs in Denver after graduating and moving there.

I can't speak too much to the atmosphere on campus for pro-life students. I can relate my experiences. When I was a freshman and sophomore, I considered myself pro-choice, although I had never actually given the matter much thought. Dennis (my husband) and I started dating the summer after sophomore year. He was friends (and had gone to high school) with Mike, who was dating a girl who lived across the hall from me. Julie and Mike introduced me to Dennis, who was a student at the University of Dayton. Dennis's mom was very active in the pro-life movement, and Dennis and I would have debates about abortion. He convinced me that abortion was wrong, and this position was solidified in Ethics (a required class), when we discussed the topic of abortion.

I don't remember any pro-life groups on campus. What I like about St. A's is that a student brought up Catholic is probably not going to relinquish his or her faith by going there, and there's a good chance their faith will be strengthened. The professors (when I was there, at least) were not liberal wackos who will work to undermine everything a student has been taught by his or her parents. I don't think your daughter would be persecuted for her pro-life beliefs and would probably find many like-minded individuals.

One thing that has always stayed with me, and that I've related to many others, is something my professor for my class on The Church said. Sister Maureen, in responding to a student's question, told the class something like, "Birth control may seem like the answer for you, but the Church is not going to say, 'OK, go ahead.' It's not the Church's job to make you feel good about the decisions you make. It's the Church's job to get you to Heaven."

Politics is now big at St. A's, with debates among presidential candidates during the primaries. I was disappointed to read, though, that a mock presidential election for the student body returned Obama as winner over McCain.

The college is run by group of Benedictine monks. They are all (I believe) involved with student life as administrators, professors, residence directors in the dorms.

I used to go to daily Mass during Lent (something I had never done growing up). Some days, I'd go to the 6 pm Mass in the upper church (the church is a massive, round, brick building). That's when all the monks would sit in their seats around the altar, and Mass attendees would sit behind them. My favorite daily Masses, though, were noon Masses held in the lower church, celebrated by just one monk. It was small and intimate, and I'd see other students and a number of professors (non-monks).

As I wrote in my last email, Catholicism is very present at St. A's. You know you're at a Catholic college, but it's still a college. There are still plenty of parties on Fridays and Saturdays, although Dennis thought is was quite tame, compared to the goings-on at the University of Dayton, another Catholic school.

Back in the day, the student body was pretty homogeneous, consisting of many CAPs (Catholic American Princesses) from Massachusetts, whose fathers were lawyers (I know this is stereotyping, but it really is accurate). They all shopped at The Limited, The Gap, and Bennetton. On any given day, you'd see the same sweater on two or three girls. They all carried similar Liz Claiborne purses. I was from a small town in Maine, and my father was a foreman in the paper mill. I had never heard of Liz Claiborne until I set foot on campus, but I found my niche soon enough. I ended up with many friends, mostly English majors, like me, and nursing majors, like my roommate. I never bought a Liz Claiborne purse, but I did aquire a few outfits from The Gap and The Limited.

The size of St. A's seems just right. There were close to 2,000 students when I was there. It's not so small that you know everybody (and they know everything about you), but not so big that you get lost.

There are no coed dorms. In fact, there are "parietals" in the girls' dorms (one of them nicknamed "The Virgin Vault"), which means that, during the week, males are allowed only in the lobby. The girl manning the front desk announces visitors, and dorm residents come down to the lobby to meet their guests. I was studying with headphones on, so I didn't hear my first, "Chery Doyle, you have a guest in the lounge." My roommate and friends, though, came running to my room to let me know. (No, it wasn't Dennis.) On Fridays and Saturdays, a guy can go to a girls' room, after leaving his ID at the front desk. If the fellow has not claimed his ID by 1 am., he hears a "(insert name), please report to the lobby." Guys are allowed in the girls rooms on Sundays until 6 pm. If a man was allowed on any floor at any other time of the week (maybe a dad visiting his daughter), the intercom would blast, "Man on three. Man on three." It always cracked us up.

While I was there, there was a rumor of one girl having an abortion. Conversely, a nursing major (a local, commuting student) got pregnant and kept her baby. All of the nursing majors in the class rallied around her and helped in any way they could.

Going to St. A's definitely put me on the right track for the rest of my life. When I moved to Denver about six months after graduating, I worked for an asset management company in downtown Denver. None of my co-workers were religious, by any stretch of the imagination, but while they were out eating at downtown restaurants, I was attending noon Mass at Holy Ghost during Lent.

When Dennis and I became engaged, we took natural family planning classes, because birth control is wrong. Through those classes, we became convinced that extended breastfeeding was important, along with attachment parenting.

Working as a reporter for The Denver Catholic Register before Luke was born was just another step in the right direction. I learned about homeschooling from my editor, who was beginning a homeschool journey with his wife and children.

Remember Buffy and Jody?

2010-03-14T09:20:00.001-04:00

A few months ago, we rented the first five or six episodes of A Family Affair from Netflix. I loved the show when I was little, but I didn't remember all that much about it. I knew there was Buffy, Jody, Cissy, Uncle Bill and Mr. French (Sebastian Cabot, who was also the narrator in Disney's original Winnie-the-Pooh movie), but was fuzzy on the details. To my pleasant surprise, the show was much better than I remembered, and the kids loved it — so much that we rented the second set of Season One episodes and have watched them a number of times. Seeing the mod, seventies fashions is fun; Uncle Bill's bachelor pad in a New York high-rise is swank; and Buffy and Jody are incredibly cute; but the best thing about the show is the values it espouses.

In episode one, her aunt delivers six-year-old Buffy to Bachelor Bill and his butler, Mr. French. The little girl's guardian explains that having Buffy live with her and her husband in the year since Buffy's parents were killed in an accident has been difficult. "She never cries, Bill," the oh-so-concerned woman tells her brother. When, moments later, Bill leaves the room, his sister takes the opportunity to bug on out, leaving Buffy behind. Discovering that he's been left with the little girl, Uncle Bill explains to her that she'll have to go back to her aunt. Buffy takes the news stoically, saying something like "Yes sir. I knew you wouldn't want me either."

Soon enough, Bill is second-guessing himself. In the meantime, another woman shows up in New York with Jody, Buffy's twin, and their teenage sister, Cissy, gets dropped off by her guardian. It doesn't take Bill long to realize that the children's welfare is more important than his lifestyle. He tells them they can all stay. From that point on, he and French do an admirable job of raising the three orphans. Buffy, Jody, and Cissy are grateful to be together and happy to live with an uncle who obviously loves them. They are sweet and kind to one another, respectful of adults, and obedient.

In another episode (the DVD with the second set of shows), Buffy's beloved doll, Mrs. Beasley, falls off the terrace and disappears. Uncle Bill wants to buy Buffy another doll, but quickly realizes that nothing could replace the companion that saw Buffy through a year of heartache. He cancels the golf game he had anticipated all week, so he can search for the doll.

My favorite episode may have been the one in which the assistant principal at the twins' school pushes Bill to put Buffy and Jody into separate classes, because they won't play with other kids and "are too dependent upon one another." Bill protests, citing the fact that they were separated for a year after the death of their parents and questioning whether or not six-year-old kids need to socialize with others. "Give them time," he says. Feeling inexperienced, though, he doubts his decision and consults a child psychologist. Of course, she tells Bill the same thing the school administrator told him. He tries it, and Buffy is miserable. Jody makes a new friend, but doesn't think that having other friends is all its cracked up to be. Bill beats himself up for not following his instincts and insists that Buffy and Jody be put back in the same class.

The kids have added the next Family Affair DVD to our Netflix queue. I'm looking forward to seeing the next episodes, but I can't help but feel a bit melancholy when I watch them, because I know about Anissa Jones's drug overdose at age 18. Anissa played Buffy for seven seasons, and I can't help but think that if she had had a real-life Uncle Bill, she'd be alive today.

A Kindred Spirit

2010-03-10T13:23:00.000-05:00

Selling many items on ebay and swapping a number of books on Paperbackswap has meant lots of trips to the post office. One of the workers there is especially friendly. Chatting with her is lovely. For the longest time, though, I didn't know her name. Last week, I was mailing packages, while Luke, Bridget, and Stella waited in the car. My favorite employee was behind the counter, and I finally got a chance to ask her name. Bridget and Luke, however, were getting impatient with my "long" stay in the post office, so Luke came in after me. As we got into the car, I turned to Bridget and said, "I finally learned that nice lady's name. It's Diana." Luke, completely deadpan, then remarked, "Is she a kindred spirit, Mom?" I laughed; then it struck me that Luke was referring to Anne of Green Gables, whose best friend -- who turned out to be a kindred spirit -- was Diana Barry.

My Diana was at the post office today, and I told her the story, adding, "It's nice to know that Luke listens when I read to him."

But, there's one more thing, it turns out that my Diana lives right down the road, perhaps as close as Anne's Diana was to her.

Mentors

2010-03-07T13:14:00.003-05:00

I just finished reading Open by Andre Agassi. I started it more than two months ago. There were periods when I stayed up for hours reading chapter after chapter, and times when I wouldn't touch the book for weeks. I didn't want it to end, much like Agassi at the close of his career in a sport he hated.

Luke has been clamoring to read Open. He's already read the excerpt published in Sports Illustrated. I'm sure many parents would cock an eyebrow at my letting a thirteen-year-old read the autobiography of a man who has made many poor decisions in his life, including one to use crystal meth., but I'm not "many parents."

I've always liked Agassi as a tennis player; now I like him as a person. I think Luke will, too, and I hope that he picks up a few things from this misunderstood athlete, things like the importance of learning from his mistakes; the wisdom of surrounding himself with good people who genuinely want the best for him; the value of working hard; the realization that attitude has a significant effect on every endeavor.

Like all good literature, Open offers up some profound observations on human nature. Luke may not be conscious of these insights when reading the book, but they'll have an impact, nevertheless. I'll leave you with one that sticks in my mind. Near the close of the book, Agassi writes, "... several sports writers muse about my transformation, and that word rankles. I think it misses the mark. Transformation is change from one thing to another, but I started as nothing. I didn't transform, I formed. When I broke into tennis, I was like most kids: I didn't know who I was, and I rebelled at being told by older people. I think older people make this mistake all the time with younger people, treating them as finished products when in fact they're in process" (p. 373).

The Words of Others

2010-02-23T21:34:00.002-05:00

Finding time for much of anything besides holding Stella is well-nigh impossible these days. Bridget's got her now, but Stella's not very happy about it. I miss writing, though, so on those days when I can find but a few moments, I'll try share a quote or two on education, with a thought or two of my own.

Aristotle wrote: "All who have meditated on the art of governing mankind have been convinced that the fate of empires depends on the education of youth."

This one caught my eye, as I've recently started reading Oliver and Rachel DeMille's Leadership Education: the Phases of Learning. I pick it up only when I have two hands free, so I can take notes. I've read many books on education, homeschooling in particular, but the DeMilles' philosophy (they also wrote A Thomas Jefferson Education and founded George Wythe University) always rings more true than any other.

Take a look at the education of most youth in this country for at least the last fifty years. Then take a look at the state of our nation. We are well past our eyeballs in debt; the media spends more time and money telling Americans how to interpret the news than actually reporting it; and the freedoms that legions of Americans have died defending are freely given up on a nearly daily basis.

Aristotle's words also bring to mind the words of another individual, Richard C. Maybury, author of Uncle Eric Talks About Personal, Career, and Financial Security. In that book, Maybury, writing as "Uncle Eric" to his "nephew Chris," explains that the easiest way for power seekers to gain control of people is to insert in people's minds models that support his agenda, and this is done by controlling the facts people receive. Maybury writes, "This is why the American Founders were so intent on protecting freedom of speech, freedom of the press, and freedom of religion. They did not want anyone controlling the flow of information because they knew controlled data leads to controlled models, which yields controlled behavior. This is why all tyrants try to keep an iron grip on their school systems. When a government controls the schools, it does not need to control the press; it already has control of the people's models."

Think about that one.

Beautiful Blogger Award

2010-02-17T12:06:00.001-05:00

Kris from the AtHomeScience blog has bestowed the Beautiful Blogger Award on me, and I appreciate it very much. Kris's blog is filled with great ideas for helping kids learn about science.

So, now, I'm supposed list seven things about myself.

1. I am the youngest of three kids.
2. My husband was born on the exact same day as Dan, the guy I met my freshman year in college and dated for six months.
3. I hated living in Colorado Springs.
4. I would rather stay inside and read a book than go outside and deal with nature.
5. I still have all of the prom issues and Back-to-School issues from my subscription (when I was a teen) to Seventeen Magazine.
6. I have boxes, bins, and drawers full of letters, photos, and cards I've received from family and friends. I started saving them when I was probably about ten.
7. When I get mad I swear like a sailor, but I'm trying to give it up for Lent. It's noon on Ash Wednesday, and I've already slipped up a few times. I said a "Hail Mary" for each slip-up.

Practice

2010-02-04T11:45:00.003-05:00

Hi everybody, I'm thinking about being a sports photographer when I grow up, but now I'm just taking pics of the family and Caddie. So here are some of my pics. Please leave comments. Thanks. --Luke

Self-Sufficient

2010-02-01T20:22:00.001-05:00

Earlier today, Luke boiled eggs, so he could have egg salad for dinner. When evening rolled around, though, he was disappointed to find that we had no mayo. He was unable to convince either Dennis or me to go out to the grocery, so I suggested that he make mayonnaise. "How?" he asked.

"Look it up online," I said. "Alton Brown makes mayo."

"OK," Luke said. He found Alton's recipe at www.foodnetwork.com, and got to work. Dennis's interest was piqued, so he helped Luke get the job done.

Always Chatting

2010-01-18T13:34:00.001-05:00

My friend thinks I need to get out of the house more often. I'm pretty content where I am. Besides, packing up six kids and dealing with them when I'm out and about is not exactly a walk in the park. Staying home saves me money, and it gives me chances to try and catch up on various projects I'd love to spend some time working on. It's not as if I'm lonely. I have six kids, and among them, someone is always talking. When my husband is home, we have some great conversations. My sister calls often, my brother once in awhile, and that friend who made the suggestion? When she or I actually do pick up the phone to chat, we know we'll be spending at least an hour together.

Then, there are other types of conversations: topic discussions with other homeschooling moms via online groups, and the communications that take place among the books being read. I mentioned this in my last post, quoting from a blog I was directed to by one of the homeschooling moms on one of those online groups. As a matter of fact, I often find that one conversation hearkens back to one I've recently had. I don't think this is amazing or anything. It's probably a result of the "new car effect": you decide that your next car will be an Audi TT, and you suddenly begin seeing Audi TTs everywhere. Funny, you think, I never noticed that so many people have TTs. I think I'll coin a phrase for this communications phenomenon. I'll call it "conversation crossings."

The most recent conversation crossing I've noticed has involved one of my all-time favorite books: Ceremony by Leslie Marmon Silko. I wrote about it in my last post, remember? I also wrote about it just the other day in a message to one of my online groups, TheHistoryPlace, a group for Catholic Homeschooling parents who want to talk about history. The subject of academic writing came up, and I had this to say: "I had down pat the formula for writing college papers ... It wasn't until I took a graduate course in Native American literature that I was finally able -- and encouraged -- to get creative, and writing the final paper for that class was sheer joy."

Since today is my birthday, I may treat myself to re-reading Ceremony, and I'll take the time to re-read and share that graduate paper. (By the way, my paper refers to Ceremony and House Made of Dawn by N. Scott Momaday, the other novel we read for the class -- and one I highly recommend.)

To Heal with a Word (submitted July 10, 1992)

On a wall literally covered with hundreds of books, Ceremony by Leslie Marmon Silko is lost. A paperback publication like the rest of them, it holds no significance. The title and author's name printed on the spine strike the eye before and after millions of other words. The three copies in stock are periodically shuffled, at one point moved to the bottom shelf to make room for 25 copies of Sidney Sheldon's latest bestseller, at another sitting in the middle of a section with the "Unfinished Crow" staring sadly at everyone who is "just looking." The book's presence, though, is constant. Weeks go by, then months, and the bookstore clerk is no longer a rookie. If a customer asks for Ceremony by Silko, the clerk will not have to check the microfiche. It will take her less than two minutes to find the book. She will take one copy from the shelf and hand it to the customer, giving no thought to its contents. It will take another two years and a class assignment for that to happen. After that, three months will pass before, finishing the book on the morning of her final exam, she will ask herself, "Why, after seeing this book every day for so long, didn't I read it before now?"

* * *

"The white man takes such things as words and literatures for granted, as indeed he must, for nothing in his world is so commonplace. On every side of him there are words by the millions, an unending succession of pamphlets and papers, letters and books, bills and bulletins, commentaries and conversations" (Momaday, 95). In American Indian cultures, words are treated differently. Language is sacred, because from speaking comes reality, and in many instances, the real and spiritual are indistinguishable.

In their culture, the concept of a god separate from themselves and their world is foreign to American Indians. Every aspect of the universe is interconnected. They view all of creation as a whole. Balance and harmony are essential. If harmony is disrupted, it must be restored. This is accomplished through ceremonies and myths. Ceremonies are ritual enactments of cosmic relationships; myths are prose records of those relationships. They are both healing forces.

If myths or ceremonies are lost or forgotten, disharmony will result. They must be kept alive, because they are so vital. Storytelling sustains them.

"I will tell you something about stories,

[he said]

They aren't just entertainment.

Don't be fooled.

They are all we have, you see,

all we have to fight off

illness and death.

You don't have anything

if you don't have stories.

Their evil is mighty

but it can't stand up to our stories.

So they try to destroy the stories

let the stories be confused or forgotten.

They would like that

They would be happy

Because we would be defenseless then" (Silko, 2).

Stories can be distorted or lost in a number of ways. Change is inherent in the stories and ceremonies. Efforts to keep them static distort and destroy them. "[T]hings which don't shift and grow are dead things" (Silko, 126). Change is embedded in the rituals of the ceremonies. "[L]ong ago when the people were given these ceremonies, the changing began, if only in the aging of the yellow gourd rattle or the shrinking of the skin around the eagle's claw, if only in the different voices from generation to generation, singing the chants. You see, in many ways, the ceremonies have always been changing" (Silko, 126). White men try to control the Indians by controlling the ceremonies. The annual Gallup Ceremonial, the biggest tourist attraction of the year, is organized and run by whites. Whites choose the dances the Indians will perform, and the costumes they will wear. They remain the same year after year.

The stories can also be lost through lies. The lessons taught to Rocky by whites in the Indian school are Ck'o'yo magic. His teachers and his coach inform Rocky that all of the old Indian beliefs are superstitions. They tell him, "'Nothing can stop you now except one thing: don't let the people at home hold you back'" (Silko, 51). Rocky wants to fit into the white world, so he listens to the Army recruiter and convinces Tayo that they should both fight for America, the white man's America, the country that was gained from the Indians through lies and broken promises.

* * *

Damnit. She's done it again. Today is Father's Day, and she has yet to send her dad a card. And a gift? Well, she bought it; she just hasn't wrapped it yet. It's a great gift, though; he'll love it: a Red Sox jacket. It is not a Sears gift certificate; it is not a new pair of suspenders; it is not even a new bone china cup. (He refuses to drink tea out of anything but bone china, you know.) She will dig out the jacket right now and wrap it. That way when her parents call, she'll be able to tell her mother that it's in the mail. Her mother got so upset last month, because she "could not even get her father's birthday card to him on time." Yes, she promised her mother then that he would have his Father's Day gift on Father's Day, but maybe its "being in the mail" will be good enough. She'll go to the post office first thing in the morning. Now, where did she put the jacket? Oh, there it is. Right next to the china cup she bought her dad for his birthday.

* * *

"Promise" is a frequently spoken word among Americans, and for many Americans, it is a word with healing powers. A promise can settle an argument and satisfy a demanding person. Webster's Ninth New Dictionary defines "promise" as "a declaration that one will do or refrain from doing something specified." In American Indian culture, however, "promise" literally holds no meaning. If speaking creates reality, a promise is redundant.

This difference in views was a major contributor to the "Indian Wars." Whites used words as a means of satisfying and subduing Indians. Because words mean little to them, white men have found it easy to tell Indians stories they have no intentions of fulfilling. White men repeatedly lied to Geronimo, yet Geronimo continued to believe them, because the concept of a lie was alien to him and his people.

Silko's Ceremony and House Made of Dawn by N. Scott Momaday are two novels that deal with American Indians thrown off balance by the world of the white man. They are two superb illustrations of the differences between American culture and American Indian culture. Each is a ceremony of words, examining and illustrating the process of healing. Silko's main character is Tayo, a "half-breed" whose experiences as a soldier in the United State Army during World War II have left him physically, emotionally and psychologically ill. The story of Abel, Momaday's protagonist, begins with his drunken return to the reservation after having served in World War II. Both characters have incomplete stories; Tayo's has gotten cut off; Abel's has yet to be told.

* * *

Why does she even bother? Organizing anything with her friends is always difficult, and having fun together is nearly impossible. She should have known. For the past hour, they have been driving around Boston, searching in vain for a parking space. And Mike's apartment? They'll worry about locating that as soon as they find a place to leave the car. What a way to spend New Year's Eve. It's all Julie's fault. They had never given her an exact time. They said they hoped to be there before 8:00. At 8:05, she called them, and yelled. Michael tried to tell her that they had gotten back late from Worcester. Erin was just getting out of the shower and they'd be able to leave within 30 minutes. Julie cut him off before he got to the "leave within 30 minutes" part, though. She declared that she was going out with her friends, and then hung up. We were out of the house within 15 minutes, but by the time we got to Reading, we had missed the train by about two minutes. We could see the tail end of it. Julie had the schedule, but we knew the trains only ran every 45 minutes. Instead of waiting for the next one, we decided to drive to Boston. That was two hours ago. Maybe we should have waited for the train.

* * *

Tayo's story has been cut off by the war. His healing ceremony has been interrupted. Tayo's being is out of harmony, because female love has been lacking in his life. He has not had the experiences necessary to develop the female half of his psyche, and he is imbalanced. Tayo was born to an alcoholic mother, who ran around with white men and lived with many other homeless Indians in a Gallup arroyo. When his mother left him with her family and subsequently died, Josiah showed Tayo a great deal of love. Josiah is a man, however, and none of the women in Tayo's life express love for him. Grandma is distant, and Tayo is a burden for Auntie.

Tayo's encounter with Night Swan is his first taste of female love, and it is the beginning of his healing ceremony. Night Swan embodies the powers of rain and of the mountains, both of which are curative forces. When Tayo makes love to Night Swan, it rains, putting an end to the long dry spell to which the land had been subjected. Rain is significant in the Indian culture. It is believed that when people die they return to rain, bringing life back to the earth. Life is what Tayo becomes attracted to through his lovemaking to Night Swan. "He dreamed it again and again, sinking and rolling with the light blue sheets twisted around his thighs and ankles, and the excitement of wet smells of rain, and their sweat. He wanted to lie like that forever" (Silko, 99).

According to Night Swan, the view of Tse-pi'na, Mount Taylor, is what enticed her to remain in Cubero. The connection between Night Swan and Mount Taylor, however, goes deeper than just an appreciation of the view. At the end of the book, Tayo finally finds balance in his life. He regains his equilibrium on Mount Taylor, where he also rediscovers Ts'eh, the woman -- or spirit -- from whom he received love and to whom he gave love, when he met her on his search for Josiah's cattle. Ts'eh helps Tayo comple the ceremony he began with Night Swan.

Tayo finishes his story at the end of the book and completes a circle. Begun with the rain, Mount Taylor, sexuality and Night Swan -- A'moo'ooh the rain spirit, his ceremony ends with rain, Mount Taylor, sexuality and Ts'eh -- A'moo'ooh the rain spirit. "'You don't have to understand what is happening. But remember this day. You will recognize it later. You are part of it now'" (Silko, 100).

* * *

"She had a girl? What did she name her?"

"Sydney Rebecca."

"Sidney Rebecca? Sidney's a boy's name."

"It is not. Well, it can be, but in this case, it's not. Girls are also named Sydney. Anne says that, according to the baby name book, it's 50/50."

"How does she spell it, S-I-D-N-E-Y?"

"No. S-Y-D-N-E-Y."

"Oh. But why did they choose that name?"

"Because they like it, and because Anne had an uncle named Sidney."

"See."

"Oh, mother."

"And what about Rebecca? Why didn't she choose a Catholic name?"

"Rebecca is a Biblical name."

"Yes, but it's in the Old Testament. It's more of a Jewish name."

"Oh, mother."

* * *

Naming is very important for American Indians, as it brings objects and beings into existence. Naming tells one's story; it locates, in all of creation, one's being. New aspects of one's self are discovered through talk of one's past.

In House Made of Dawn, Abel's biggest problem is his inability to speak. Because he cannot tell his story, give himself a name, he cannot locate himself in the universe. Abel's inability to speak to Francisco upon his return from the war is the first indication of what Abel must do in order to come to terms with himself and the world around him. He cannot articulate his emotions, his thoughts, his fears. "He had always been afraid. Forever at the margin of his mind there was something to be afraid of, something to fear. He did not know what it was, but it was always there, real, imminent, unimaginable" (Momaday, 116). Until Abel can put his fears into words, he will be incapable of dealing with them, and until he is capable of dealing with them, he will find no peace and no harmony with the universe; he will be unable to go home.

In a story about his grandmother's people, Tosamah prescribes the medicine Abel needs for healing: "There are things in nature which engender an awful quiet in the heart of man; Devil's Tower is one of them. Man must account for it. He must never fail to explain such a thing to himself, or else he is estranged forever from the universe" (Momaday, 131). The ancestors of Tosamah's grandmother created a myth that gave them "kinsmen in the night sky." With that myth, "they had found a way out of the wilderness"; they had made a home for themselves. Abel must find the words to create his own myth.

Abel's killing of the Albino seems to be the most significant evidence of the disharmony affecting Abel. "[H]e killed a man -- took the life of another human being. He did so of his own volition -- he has admitted that -- he was armed for no other reason. He committed a brutal and premeditated act which we have no choice but to call by its right name" (Momaday, 102). If Abel were a character in Silko's story, he would have to take part in a scalp ceremony to become whole again. This, however, is not Silko's story. On the contrary, for Abel, the killing itself is a scalp ceremony. "It was the most natural thing in the world" (Momaday, 102). Abel kills the Albino, and it is one of the few situations in his life about which he can speak. "When he had told his story once, simply, Abel refused to speak" (Momaday, 102). About the act, he creates a myth and, like the ancestors of Tosamah's grandmother, the myth brings him peace.

It is the murder trial after the killing that throws Abel off-track once again. "There were charges, questions, and answers; it was ceremonial, orderly, civilized, and it had almost nothing to do with him" (Momaday, 101). The ceremony of the trial has even less to do with Abel's story. The whites have created their own myth about what Abel has done. It is a generic myth entitled "murder." Their words distort and confuse Abel's story. "Word by word by word these men were disposing of him in language, their language, and they were making a bad job of it" (Momaday, 102). By the time Abel is released from the American prison, he has nothing left to say. "It was a long time before he would talk to anyone. Oh, after a while we talked a whole lot, him and me, but it was about things that happened around here" (Momaday, 153). The "here" to which Benally refers in the previous sentence is Los Angeles, the city to which he went with the help of the Relocation people. To an extent, he has learned to speak the language of the whites.

At the end of the book, after Francisco's death and during his Race of the Dead, Abel finally finds the words and therefore, his place in creation. "He was running, and under his breath he began to sing. There was no sound, and he had no voice; he had only the words of a song. And he went running on the rise of the song. House made of pollen, house made of dawn" (Momaday, 212). "House made of pollen, house made of dawn" -- Benally has given these words to Abel.

Abel can, at last, tell his story, because Benally and Angela have told part of it for him. Through their words, Abel finds his own words. When Angela visits Abel in the hospital, she tells him about her son, Peter. "[S]he used to tell him a story about a young Indian brave. He was born of a bear and a maiden, she said, and he was noble and wise. He had many adventures, and he became a great leader and saved his people. It was the story Peter liked best of all, and she always thought of him, Abel, when she told it" (Momaday, 187).

Most of the words in the "Night Chanter" section are spoken by Benally, but they are spoken about Abel, and they clarify his existence, and they name what will happen in the end.

"I prayed. He was going home, and I wanted to pray. Look out for me, I said; look out each day and listen for me. And we were going together on horses to the hills. We were going to ride out in the first light to the hills. We were going to see how it was, and always was, how the sun came up with a little wind and the light ran out upon the land. We were going to get drunk, I said. We were going to be all alone, and we were going to get drunk and sing. We were going to sing about the way it always was. And it was going to be right and beautiful. It was going to be the last time. And he was going home" (Momaday, 190).

* * *

The excitement made her smile and laugh and talk to herself as she unlocked the door and slid behind the wheel of her truck. It had been wonderful, better than she had thought it could be. She rolled down the window on her left, opened the one behind her, and the breeze gently lifted the hairs from the back of her neck. For so long, she had been away from it. She turned the key in the ignition. She had forgotten what it was like, but it had all come back to her with the raising of the first question. She reached for the power button on the radio, but changed her mind. Oh, to be able to think again. And she was going home.

Significant Conversations

2010-01-02T19:29:00.006-05:00

I inherited my ease about chatting with strangers from my dad. He could strike up a conversation with anyone, anywhere. I remember a trip to Maine from Colorado when Luke was almost three and Bridget almost one. We spent a night or two in Searsport with my parents, siblings and in-laws. Before dinner, we drove down to the harbor. While I was getting Bridget's stroller from the trunk of my rental car, Dad and Luke quickly made their way to the end of the public dock, where a few locals were fishing. When my mother, Bridget, and I caught up to them, the locals had already learned enough from my father to address Bridget by name, welcome me back to Maine, and ask about Colorado.

Starting a conversation with someone you don't know well is a hopeful act. Finding common ground, learning something that enriches your life, or even making a new friend happens when you smile, say hello, and comment on the weather, the color of their sweater, or "the price of vegetables these days." You can do it via a phone, email, or by picking up a book.

Through one of the online homeschooling groups I belong to, I recently learned about the concept of having a conversation with books: in a couple of different ways. One is the Great Conversation, which, according to Wikipedia is "...a characterization of references and allusions made by authors in the Western canon to the works of their predecessors. As such it is a name used in the promotion of the Great Books of the Western World published by Encyclopædia Britannica Inc. in 1952." The other is the notion of a conversation taking place among a reader and the books he or she is currently reading. In a blog post passed along by a member of the group, Mandy Brown wrote, "Read voraciously, many books at a time. Only then will you hear the conversation taking place among them."

I think of having a conversation with books a little differently (and I know I'm not alone in this). I think of it in terms of the information exchanged between a reader and a book. Obviously, a book has a lot (or maybe not) to offer the reader: the ideas conveyed by an author's words. A reader, though, also brings something to the conversation: his or her own experiences. Authors, like painters, are sometimes asked, "What is _____________ supposed to mean?" When the author or painter replies to the question with their own question, "What does it mean to you?" it may seem smarmy or like a cop-out, but it's actually a good question. Two people can read the same book (or look at the same painting) and come away with completely different views, because each has contributed something different to the conversation between himself and the work. This is why inviting someone else into the conversation with a favorite book can be disappointing.

When I was a junior at St. Anselm College, I took a course on American writers, and the professor had us read Ceremony by Leslie Marmon Silko. I loved that book, and after the class discussions on it, it became even more meaningful to me. Shortly after moving to Denver, following college graduation, I took a graduate course in Native American Literature at the University of Denver. We read and discussed Ceremony. My conversation with the book deepened. A few years later, I recommended it to a friend. I pestered her: "Have you read it yet? What do you think?" After finally reading it, she pronounced it "o.k." I was crushed, and little, niggling things about our friendship that had only somewhat bothered me suddenly troubled me a lot more.

The day after Christmas, I struck up a conversation with a stranger of a book. My friend Anne had given me Sarah's Key by Tatiana de Rosnay, a book I had not heard of (alas, I no longer pay much attention to the world of publishing). I'm almost finished, and I have to say that this conversation has been enriching and meaningful, heartbreaking and haunting. Each day, when I pick up the book (usually when I sit down to nurse Stella for her late afternoon nap), I get so engrossed, it becomes nearly impossible not to read the next chapter. When Stella awakens, I have to force myself to set the book down and walk away. Yesterday, I read at least a dozen chapters, most of them with Stella in my lap, but a few extras while standing next to Stella's crib, making sure she didn't fall over as she sat up and played with her toys; another one or two while eating my dinner, which I didn't really taste; and just one more while holding Jack and kissing his sweet head, with that crazy, long hair of his. Before finally putting it down, I sneaked a peek at an upcoming chapter or two. There was something I just had to know before walking away again. I've cried my way through pages, and I find myself, throughout the day, thinking about Sarah and Julia and little Michel, and all those children. What would I have done? How would I have lived through something like that?

I've seen some of the one-star reviews at Amazon. The people who wrote them obviously didn't appreciate what the book had to say to them, but I wonder what they had to contribute to the conversation.

Striving for Mediocrity?

2009-12-17T07:45:00.005-05:00

That phrase came to mind this morning as I lay in bed, waiting for Stella to drift off into a deep enough sleep that I'd be able to leave her side and go make the coffee. (Alas, it is still brewing. I can smell it, but have not yet tasted it.) Shortly after Dennis and I were married, I spent the better part of a year working as a temp. in various departments of a Colorado quasi-governmental state agency. When the gig was secretary for the asset management department, one of the asset managers and I would chat at the end of the day. He and I would have most of the floor to ourselves, as we waited for the clock to strike five. You see, everyone else had already gone home for the day. Yes, some regularly came to work before eight a.m., and therefore left before five, but many did not. They simply headed for home when they felt that they were finished for the day. Jake and I often talked about the problems we saw in this organization, its policies, its employees, and the overall "culture" at the office. "Striving for mediocrity" is a phrase we bandied about a lot.

Yesterday, Bridget, Henry, Stella, and I walked around the halls of the local middle school at half-time during Luke's basketball game. We read some student "book reviews" that were posted on a wall. They were written by sixth, seventh, and eighth graders, but it was hard to see any differences among them. For the most part, they seemed to be written by kids at the same level (not a very high one at that). Bridget even exclaimed, "I can write better than that!" Indeed, she can. At 11 years of age, she is a wise and eloquent young lady.

That experience at the school got me thinking. The kids and I take a very casual approach to home education. Some of it is by design; some of it is foisted upon us by a chubby, sweet baby who loves to be in her mother's arms; a cranky three-year-old who decides that he needs attention at the most inopportune moment; dietary restrictions and a financial situation that make convenience foods simply not an option; and a husband who travels a lot for work. Because of all this, I often feel like I'm failing as a homeschooler, and when these feelings conspire with circumstances that make life especially difficult, I find myself in the "depths of despair," (as Anne Shirley would say) and ready to enroll my kids in the local school district.

Fortunately, it never takes me too long to regain my balance, and I realize that even though my kids aren't getting a daily diet of grammar, science, math, and spelling dished out in workbooks, they are learning very important lessons, lessons like: when you're making a chocolate cake and you've run out of eggs, you can use two tablespoons of yogurt and a teaspoon of baking powder for each egg called for in the recipe; when a baby is crying, you drop what you're doing and take care of her; when a little boy looks up at you with big, blue, hopeful eyes and asks you to help him build a Lego ship, you do it, even if you don't feel like it; when you've run out of clean underwear, it's time to help Mom with the laundry; when the snow won't stick together well enough to make a snowman, it's cold and dry enough outside that no mold spores will be flying around to make you feel terrible; and when Mom is in the "depths of despair," a letter telling her how much you love her is exactly what's needed.

What does all of that have to do with "striving for mediocrity?" Very little, thankfully. I've come to realize that when I judge my family and our efforts by other people's standards -- by society's standards -- we come up short. When I judge by God's standards, though, I realize we're doing alright. He has blessed me with six wonderful children, a husband who can give no less than his very best to his employer because he takes his responsibility for his family so seriously, a dog who needs some sort of major veterinary intervention every year or so, a house so poorly built that black mold is always present even after spending $150,000 to get it eradicated, and the wisdom to know that I'm exactly where He wants me to be. The challenges sometimes do seem overwhelming, but God expects me to do my best. Failure is an option, but a half-hearted attempt is not.

The Blessings of Home Education

2009-12-13T09:34:00.004-05:00

Realizing that education can happen at any time (not just from 8 to 3, M-F), and does not have to involve school books. Henry started designing his own Rock Band type of game last night, when he discovered the large sketchbook I had left on my desk.

Memories Taste Like Molasses

2009-12-03T16:34:00.010-05:00

Mom had a little, yellow, recipe book published by Pillsbury. It was chock-a-block with cookie recipes. The recipes for the all-time greatest sugar cookies were on page 30. Page 31 contained a recipe (with a picture!) of Circle-O-Rangers. Mom made these a few times, but more than anything, the picture of those cookies encircling a bowl of applesauce(?) with a cinnamon stick in the center is forever etched in my mind. I dug out that little, yellow, recipe book the other day, thinking we'd mix some sugar cookie dough, cut it into Christmas shapes, and hope that our Better Batter Gluten-free Flour would work as well as the real stuff Mom used. When I saw the picture of those Circle-O-Rangers, though, I knew the sugar cookies could wait. My kids needed to share the memory of those bow-legged, little men with me.

I started the process of mixing up the dough with Jack. When his interest waned, and Stella decided she needed to be in my arms, I abdicated the role of pastry chef to Luke/Henry/Bridget. Luke humored me and shaped the cookies the way they were supposed to be shaped. Bridget and Henry (and Sam, too) got more creative, with gingerbread men and women, stars, etc. Henry, of course, made spacemen. The kids loved their creations when they emerged from the oven, and Luke saved his specially shaped, circle-o-ranger cookie for me.

It wasn't very good. It contained molasses, but all I could taste was the ginger. I'm not a fan of ginger.

Today, Henry pestered me about making more cookies with the cutters they rarely saw, and even more seldom used. "Sure, Henry, you can make cookies, but today they're going to be Nana's molasses cookies. Those really are delicious. They're soft and taste like molasses and are especially good when slathered with butter and paired with a cup of tea -- just like Grampy used to do it."

I found the recipe, helped Henry decipher it, cajoled him into letting Sam and Jack help, cracked the eggs, and put the dough in the refrigerator to harden. Henry had taken care of the rest. For the next two hours, we ate homemade potato chips and chicken sandwiches for lunch, I read two more chapters of Anne of Avonlea to Luke and Bridget (finally, Mom!), and then it was time.

When I took the dough from the chiller and stuck in a spatula, I knew something was wrong. It was more like batter. Rats! I reviewed the recipe and realized we had shortchanged things by a cup of flour. "It's okay, Henry," I reassured him. "We'll add more flour and make it work." And it did!

I cut out the first round of cookies, using a large circle cutter like Mom always did. Then, I turned Luke and Henry loose. They cut out hearts, diamonds, clubs, and spades, along with a Christmas tree or two. I put on the tea kettle.

When it whistled, I made a cup of tea, took two, warm, gorgeously puffy, round cookies from the pan, buttered one, then sat down to enjoy my snack while I entertained Stella with a lift-the-flap book.

The first bite was nearly perfect. The tea tasted better than on most days. I finished off cookie number one and lifted the second, buttered one to my lips. It was perfect. Mmmmm. A sigh of contentment escaped my lips, and I told Stella I wished I could give her a bite. I know she wanted one. She'll have to wait at least a few months to learn this lesson, though.

Luke, Bridget, Henry, Sam, and Jack, on the other hand, became privy to the secret today: memories taste like molasses.

Acceptable Levels of Insanity

2009-11-20T18:10:00.004-05:00

Dennis and I are not mainstream America. We view, and live, life differently from most of our contemporaries. We've gotten used to their reactions, learned to blend in as well as possible, and generally censor ourselves before someone else censors us.

We're Catholics who go to church. For the most part, that bit of news results in a mere raising of eyebrows and perhaps a mental note something like: don't expect to see them on Sunday mornings.

We have six kids and feel that God knows better than we do how many kids He wants to bless us with. I can't tell you how many times I've been asked, "Don't you know what causes that?"

We homeschool. "Good for you," a new acquaintance always says. "I could never do it." She then tells me all about the problems her child is having in school.

We vote conservatively, which generally means Republican. When our views are made known to other like-minded folks, there's a quick scan of the area, and whispered comments like, "Can you believe ..." When those of a different persuasion find out about our political positions, we're scowled at, patronized, ignored, or lectured.

We're pro-life. That elicits some interesting dialogue. More than one person has told me, "Well, I believe that abortion is wrong, but it shouldn't be mandated. If a woman wants to kill her baby, she's going to hell, and that's her problem." Isn't it ironic that I'm the one viewed as old-fashioned and willing to trample on the rights of women? Not one of these people ever bothered to mention the fate of the man who did the impregnating.

We eat gluten-free and believe that many, many people who do not would be better off if they did. Conversations about gluten start out with fascinated questions from others, but suggestions that they change their diet, or at least get tested for celiac disease, are quickly dismissed. After all, neither Dennis nor I are doctors.

We've started questioning the wisdom of childhood immunizations and the timetable for administering them. That's where people draw the line. Mind you, I didn't say that we're anti-vaccination. At this point, we're asking questions, taking things slowly, and people don't like it. Tempers flare. I get yelled at. I get treated like I'm stupid. I'm told, in one way or another, to shut up. And I'm not talking about reactions from the medical community. Those are slightly more civil.

When he was four months old, Jack had an abscessed lymph node in his neck that required surgical drainage. He had not received any immunizations. I was asked about his immunization status by every doctor, resident, intern, and student at Maine Medical Center, and I saw each and every raised eyebrow when I answered that he had not yet gotten any shots. When the fluid in Jack's neck was analyzed after surgery, I think the entire staff was disappointed that it turned out to contain a strain of staphylococcus generally found in dogs, and not a microorganism that he could have been vaccinated for.

A nurse at the pediatrician's office used to seek me out in the waiting room, just so she could see Jack and chat with me. After I, one day, mentioned my uneasiness about vaccines, she became careful to avoid eye contact.

I've just begun my research in earnest, and I'm finding that most vaccine advocates refuse to admit that there could be anything wrong with any vaccine. While vaccine foes, on the other hand, are adamant that nothing good ever came from vaccines. I know that the truth lies in no-man's land between the two poles; now I have to find it, and it won't be easy. There seem to be very few Switzerlands in this war, so each source -- and all its information -- is suspect.

People try to convince me that the worlds of science and medicine are objective. I don't believe it. Sure, show me the experiment and the results, but while you're at it, I want to know who conducted the experiment; which questions were asked; who did the asking; which questions were not asked; and -- most of all -- who ponied up the cash.

In her introduction to the fourth edition of The Immunization Resource Guide, author Diane Rozario writes, "I find vaccines an utterly fascinating topic because of its combination of medicine and government, money and politics."

Indeed.

The Immunization Question

2009-11-15T14:49:00.006-05:00

It has been said that ignorance is bliss, and there have been many times in my life when I wish I could just remain ignorant, but I can't. My analytical mind needs to know more, needs to know why. Luke, Bridget, and Henry received all of their immunizations, no questions asked, and I was generally blissful.

Before I got pregnant with Sam, though, I had figured out that I have celiac disease, and everything changed -- not only did my diet, but my ability to trust doctors, one of whom told me that I didn't have celiac disease because the blood test was negative. Knowing he was wrong (I had, after all, experienced the excruciating abdominal pain and other symptoms brought on by accidental ingesting of gluten after I had effectively eliminated it from my diet), I turned to Google, and it took me all of five minutes (not years of medical school) to learn that blood tests for celiac disease will, by default, be negative for a patient on a gluten-free diet for any length of time. I had been gluten-free for six months.

Seeing an alternative health practitioner for allergy issues in my daughter and myself led me further down the path of taking charge of my own health and that of my children. From John Stebbins, OMD -- the most astute medical practitioner I've ever met -- I learned, among many other things, that the population segments most at risk for hepatitis B were babies born to mothers with hepatitis B, and sexually active teens. That got me to wondering why newborn babies -- regardless of mother's health -- are vaccinated against hep. B. So I asked my pediatrician. Know what she told me? Something like, "We see kids for immunizations when they're babies. By the time they're teens, immunization compliance falls off."

"So, it's driven more by administrative efficiency than by whether or not it's best for a child?" I asked. If I recall correctly, she squirmed through an answer. Interestingly, just today I came across an abstract of a study published in Pediatrics that states:

Objective. Our earlier research found that the strongest predictor of not being up to date on the full series of immunizationsby 24 months is failure to receive the first diphtheria vaccineand tetanus toxoid and pertussis vaccine (DTP1) on time.

Conclusions. Early in-office visits seem to make DTP1-AA vaccination more likely. These rates may be amenable to interventionby increasing early visits and reducing DTP1-AA missed opportunities.Introduction of the hepatitis B vaccine to the recommended seriesmay place more emphasis on early visits and result in increasedDTP1-AA rates and, ultimately, higher vaccination coverage rates.

Hmmmm ... "introduction of the hepatitis B vaccine ... may place more emphasis on ... higher vaccination coverage rates." The really cynical side of me makes me ask, "Are doctors getting kickbacks for each vaccination they give?" But that is really cynical, and I don't believe that. The financial benefit that pharmaceutical companies derive from vaccines, on the other hand ...

Now, don't get me wrong, I really liked that pediatrician. She was very caring and seemed to genuinely be concerned about my children, but when I asked if a certain vaccine contained Thimerosal, she replied, "I don't know." Now, this is a person who vaccinates (or, more accurately, employs nurses who vaccinate), what, ten? kids a day, and she has not deemed it important to know whether or not any of those vaccines contain a preservative made from mercury, an ingredient at the heart of most vaccine controversies? At that point, I asked for the vaccine's product insert. She handed it to me with a rather unpleasant look on her face.

Jack has received some of his immunizations, not all. Stella has received none. I don't know when she will get immunized or if she will.

The more I research the subject, the more I lean towards not vaccinating. I've read literature by vaccine advocates and literature by vaccine foes. I've found the vaccine advocates very selective about what they'll consider adverse vaccine reactions. I've also come to realize that doctors, pharmaceutical companies, and employees of government agencies such as the CDC have A LOT to lose if it's discovered that the vaccines they've been pushing have, in reality, caused more harm than good. Vaccine foes, on the other hand, have much less to lose. I've talked to doctors, physician's assistants, alternative healthcare providers, friends who are nurses, parents of children with autism, parents whose children appear to be on the autistic spectrum but have not been diagnosed.

I've seen pictures of children with awful diseases and I've worried about Stella or Jack coming down with one. On the other hand, I've heard that diseases like polio started disappearing before vaccines for them were administered. I've learned how vaccines are made, how small most of the studies on their safety have been and how those studies don't include control groups receiving placebos. I've read the abstract of a study showing never vaccinated children to be healthier than completely vaccinated children. Interestingly, the conclusion of the study authors reads very much like the literature of vaccine proponents, who like to use phrases like "lack of causal evidence":

Parents who refuse vaccinations reported less asthma and allergies in their unvaccinated children. Although this relationship was independent of measured confounders, it could be due to differences in other unmeasured lifestyle factors or systematic bias. Further research is needed to verify these results and investigate which exposures are driving the associations between vaccination refusal and allergic disease. The known benefits of vaccination currently outweigh the unproved risk of allergic disease.

I've learned that adjuvants such as mercury, aluminum, and squalene are added to vaccines to stimulate a greater immune response. I've also learned that mercury, aluminum, and squalene, ironically, suppress the immune system.

I've learned about leaky gut syndrome, in which undigested proteins pass through the intestinal wall and into the bloodstream. How does leaky gut syndrome come about? Damaged intestines. How do intestines get damaged? Through undiagnosed celiac disease, unknown food allergies, through the killing of good intestinal bacteria by antibiotics. What happens when undigested proteins get into the bloodstream? Well, according to Dr. James Braly and Ron Hoggan, in Dangerous Grains: "Because gluten proteins [just one example of an undigested protein] have been shown to damage many internal organs and tissues on contact, absorption of these partly digested proteins is a major threat to one's health ..."

Vaccines contain protein from viruses or bacteria. What happens when those proteins are injected into a body, as opposed to entering a body through the digestive system or the filters of the respitory system or integumentary (skin) system? The physician's assistant I asked about it had no good answer.

What happens to those viral or bacterial proteins if they meet up with undigested food proteins in the blood? The pediatrician I asked about it had no good answer.

How many children have undiagnosed celiac disease, unknown food allergies, are put on antibiotics before they're even a year old? What happens when they receive immunizations? How many of those children are not diagnosed with celiac disease, food allergies, or yeast overcolonization because doctors put more stock in laboratory tests than in the actual experiences of a patient or a patient's parent?

Each question I ask leads me to another one. So, where does that leave me? With more questions to ask, more literature to read, more interviews like this one to listen to, and more guidance to pray for.

Ignorance and Apathy

2009-11-15T12:02:00.004-05:00

The ignorance of others makes me apathetic. No, I shan't explain that further. I will, however, include an email sent to me by my sister-in-law. Luke (my all-sports-all-the-time child) and I found it very amusing.

Entitled "Why Athletes Can't have Regular Jobs," it goes:

1. Chicago Cubs outfielder Andre Dawson on being a role model: “I wan’ all dem kids to do what I do, to look up to me. I wan’ all the kids to copulate me.”

2. New Orleans Saint RB George Rogers when asked about the upcoming season: “I want to rush for 1,000 or 1,500 yards, whichever comes first.”

3. And, upon hearing Joe Jacobi of the ‘Skins say: “I’d run over my own mother to win the Super Bowl,” Matt Millen of the Raiders said: “To win, I’d run over Joe’s Mom, too.”

4. Torrin Polk, University of Houston receiver, on his coach, John Jenkins: “He treats us like men. He lets us wear earrings.”

5. Football commentator and former player Joe Theismann, 1996: “Nobody in football should be called a genius. A genius is a guy like Norman Einstein.”

6. Senior basketball player at the University of Pittsburgh : “I’m going to graduate on time, no matter how long it takes.” (now that is beautiful)

7. Bill Peterson, a Florida State football coach: “You guys line up alphabetically by height.” And, “You guys pair up in groups of three, and then line up in a circle.” "OK guys lets have a prayer…Now I lay me down to sleep…"

8. Boxing promoter Dan Duva on Mike Tyson going to prison: “Why would anyone expect him to come out smarter? He went to prison for three years, not Princeton ..”

9. Stu Grimson, Chicago Blackhawks left wing, explaining why he keeps a color photo of himself above his locker: “That’s so when I forget how to spell my name, I can still find my clothes.”

10. Lou Duva, veteran boxing trainer, on the Spartan training regime of heavyweight Andrew Golota: “He’s a guy who gets up at six o’clock in the morning, regardless of what time it is.”

11. Chuck Nevitt , North Carolina State basketball player, explaining to Coach Jim Valvano why he appeared nervous at practice: “My sister’s expecting a baby, and I don’t know if I’m going to be an uncle or an aunt.” (I wonder if his IQ ever hit room temperature in January)

12. Frank Layden , Utah Jazz president, on a former player: “I told him, ‘Son, what is it with you? Is it ignorance or apathy?’ He said, ‘Coach, I don’t know and I don’t care.’”

13. Shelby Metcalf, basketball coach at Texas A&M, recounting what he told a player who received four F’s and one D: “Son, looks to me like you’re spending too much time on one subject.”

14. Amarillo High School and Oiler coach Bum Phillips when asked by Bob Costas why he takes his wife on all the road trips, Phillips responded: “Because she is too damn ugly to kiss good-bye.”

15. These are right in the ballpark with Mike Tyson’s answer to what he will do when he retires….”I guess I’ll just fade into Bolivia .”

"These Be All Good Things": But What is the Price?

2009-11-12T10:47:00.004-05:00

Luke, Bridget and I are enjoying Rosemary Sutcliff's The Eagle of the Ninth, a book set in Britain, when it was part of the Roman Empire, in the second century. This morning, we read a passage that takes place in a garden in Calleva, and the conversation between the main character, Marcus -- a wounded, former Roman commander -- and his slave, Esca -- a native Briton -- struck a chord with me. It goes:

"We have ways of our own," said Esca. ... "The tribes of the South had lost their birthright before ever the Eagles came in war. They sold it for the things that Rome could give. They were fat with Roman merchandise and their souls had grown lazy within them."

"But these things that Rome had to give, are they not good things?" Marcus demanded. "Justice, and order, and good roads; worth having, surely?"

"These be all good things," Esca agreed. "But the price is too high."

"The price? Freedom?"

"Yes -- ..."

Fortification

2009-10-18T09:55:00.004-04:00

On Thursday, Bridget, Henry, Sam, and Jack closed their books and got some hands-on learning in the areas of engineering, building, and camping.

Are Your Books Bent?

2009-10-06T07:36:00.005-04:00

While the kids are still asleep (amazing!), I'll try to churn out a brief post on books. In my last post, I wanted to do more than just say "I have more books than you do, na-na-na-na-boo-boo," but there was no way Stella was going to let me do that much typing.

I just finished The Chosen by Chaim Potok, one of the books recommended in A Thomas Jefferson Education (TJEd) by Oliver Van DeMille. After getting to the last period, I took out TJEd and glanced at the discussion questions included for Potok's classic set in a Jewish neighborhood of New York City during World War II. The first question was, "Is this a bent, broken, whole, or healing story?" Before I could answer that one, though, I had to go back to DeMille's chapter on classics and re-familiarize myself with those terms. Let me share them with you.

According to DeMille:

Bent Stories portray good as evil and evil as good. Many horror stories fall into this categories. These should be avoided "like the plague."

Broken stories accurately portray good as good and evil as evil, but evil wins. These can be difficult to read, because they don't feel right and are far from uplifting. They can, however, be inspirational, if they spur the reader on to fix the real-world problems portrayed in the book. DeMille cites William Golding's Lord of the Flies and Marx's Communist Manifesto as examples of broken books.

Whole stories are ones in which all is right with the world -- in the end. Evil is evil; good is good. Good wins. The Lord of the Rings readily comes to mind.

Healing stories can be either whole or broken. Books fall into this category depending upon how they affect an individual reader. If a book profoundly moves, motivates, or changes a reader, it is a healing story. What books have proven to be healing stories for you? A Tale of Two Cities is one of mine.

Stella calls. I'll add one more thought. One of my favorite college professors made this distinction: "Literature leaves you with questions; fiction gives you all the answers." Let me know if you have any questions about this post.

Inundated

2009-09-25T09:16:00.008-04:00

The kids and I don't get to the library often. Finding the motivation to pack up all, or even most of, the kids is difficult. I do it for soccer games and practices (there are a lot of those) and the occasional trip to Target. The library, though: it simply doesn't happen. I don't, however, feel like the kids or I are hurting for reading material. We have lots of books. They are in the kitchen:

In my studio:

In the family room:

In the living room:

In my bedroom:

In Dennis's office:

In the playroom:

And in each of the kids' bedrooms:

Yes, there are also books in the bathrooms. You would think that I'd have no need to ever purchase another book. Alas, it is not so, but I have reached a turning point in my life full of books. In recent months, I've sold some on ebay, given some to Goodwill, and traded a few at PaperBackSwap. I seldom set foot in a bookstore (in the past, I worked at a number of them), but with Amazon, ebay, PaperBackSwap, and any number of homeschool suppliers just a mouse-click away, who needs to?

A New Year of Lessons: the Soft Opening

2009-09-08T18:22:00.013-04:00

If you've seen Ocean's Thirteen, you know the difference between a soft opening and a grand opening. Yesterday was our soft opening to the school year. We cruised the coast of Maine, visiting Fort Pownall in Stockton Springs, Dairy Queen in Belfast, and Mount Battie in Camden. We all learned a thing or two about Maine's history, thoroughly enjoyed our sundaes, and fell in love with the breathtaking ocean views to be had from the top of the tower on Mt. Battie. It was a relaxed, leisurely day, entailing just a little bit of homework: the kids have to make scrapbook-type pages for their portfolios, and I have to research the cost of waterfront land.

A New Year of Lessons: the Grand Opening

2009-09-08T17:42:00.004-04:00

Today was our official first day of lessons for the year, and what a day it was. After getting out of bed when the alarm sounded at 7:30, I showered, made the coffee and prodded a couple of still-sleeping kids out of bed. At 8:30, we started with prayers, the Pledge of Allegiance, a reading of The Ugly Duckling (which was chosen for its lessons on respect, one of the two Core Virtues virtues of the month), and selections from Catholic Children's Treasure Box on The Blessed Mother, since today is her birthday. That sounds pretty good, doesn't it? But ... that's the edited version. I didn't tell you about all the yelling (by me), the whining (by the kids) and the intervening (by Dennis). I think at about 8:23 -- after plenty of yelling -- I reminded Dennis, "I told you I'm not a morning person." Ah well, I never claimed that I had this homeschooling thing figured out.

The rest of the day -- although it included fighting over the computer (which then got unplugged) and arguments over stickers (Jack stole Sam's Snoopy sticker when we decorated new portfolios to house the year's schoolwork) -- actually went quite well. The right-hand page of my Day-Timer's two-page-per-day spread is filled with lists of my students' accomplishments, and many of them match the planned lessons I had previously written on the left-hand page. We covered history, geography, literature, grammar, spelling, math, science, religion, poetry, fables and nursery rhymes. When Henry and Dennis return from soccer practice (with Bridget and Sam), Henry and I will start the book I've chosen for his history lessons. Later, we'll all eat dinner, then celebrate Mary's birthday with the blueberry cake that's in the oven. Blueberries, you see, represent the color most often associated with the Blessed Virgin.

On Vacation, Sort Of

2009-07-17T10:07:00.002-04:00

I've been away from this blog for quite some time now, but with good reason. Stella Maria was born on June 18, and she has proven much more interesting than subjects related to home education.

Politics, the Passion and a Pooling of Perspectives

2009-06-04T15:39:00.006-04:00

Alliteration is fun; I just couldn't resist that title, although the word that most readily comes to mind doesn't start with a "P." It is "convergence." It seems that, no matter which way I turn or what I read, I am continually led back to the subjects of politics and the Passion of Jesus Christ. Interestingly, these subjects also keep pointing me back to education/teaching.

Back in December, I read The Spear by Louis de Wohl. About two weeks ago, I finished reading the book to Luke and Bridget, as part of our studies on ancient Rome. Luke loved the book, begging for me to read it each and every morning of lessons. Bridget enjoyed it, but found some of it confusing. For me, the book provided insight into the Passion and Death of Jesus Christ.

When I was younger, I was faced with an annual bout of confusion occasioned by the Palm Sunday reading of the Gospel account of Jesus' Passion. I couldn't, for the life of me, understand how anyone could have wanted Jesus, the Son of God, put to death. When it was time for me, as a member of the congregation, to participate by stating, "Crucify him," I couldn't do it. I would never have shouted for Jesus' execution, I used to think.

After Bridget was born (more than ten years ago), I started reading The One Year Bible on a daily basis and, after 365 days, had read the entire Bible. Not only was I proud of myself, I was enlightened. I finally understood how all of those people could have shouted "Crucify him": they had been deceived by the political powers-that-be. I still had little insight, though, into why those political powers-that-be wanted Jesus dead.

Enter The Spear. The fictional account of Cassius Longinus, a Roman soldier who thrust a spear into the crucified Christ, provided a great deal of insight, along with a compelling story. De Wohl did a wonderful job of fleshing out Caiphas and Pontius Pilate and making them real. Through his story, de Wohl explained to me the political climate of the times and revealed what many of the Jews in and around first-century Jerusalem may have believed. For instance, it was not widely known that Jesus had been born in Bethlehem; his parents were from Galilee ("... and what good has ever come from Galilee?"). If the Messiah was supposed to be born in Bethelem, how could this man be the fulfillment of the prophecies?

Never imagining that it would lead me back to Jesus' crucifixion, I recently read A Tale of Two Cities by Charles Dickens for the first time, finishing it well past midnight three or four days ago. It is one of the "assigned" texts in A Thomas Jefferson Education. A little curious about DeMille's discussion questions for the classic, I snuck a peek at them when I was about halfway through the book. The first was about whether or not a particular character was a Christ figure. My cheating cost me a little surprise at the end of A Tale ..., but it also got me looking for evidence that this character may have fulfilled that role. I'd have to say that he was a Christ figure, but only on a human level. There was nothing divine about him. Like Jesus, this guy was a victim of the political climate, and was similar to Our Savior in other ways.

While Jesus was the ultimate innocent victim and the most significant one of his times, Dickens's character was simply one representative of thousands of innocent victims (real human beings) killed by a corrupt political machine. When the French peasants rose up against their oppressors, the aristocracy got what it had coming to it. In its ignorance, however, the peasantry became greater oppressors than the regime they overthrew and few, if any, French citizens gained real freedom. This morning, I happened upon the story of one of those citizens in the June issue of Magnificat:

Father Charles Rene Collas du Bignon, a Sulpician priest, served as the superior of a minor seminary in Bourges, France. His refusal to take the anti-papal oath of the "Civil Constitution of the Clergy" imposed by the bloody Jacobin regime of the French Revolution led to his arrest. He was sent to Rochefort, joining over eight hundred other priests and religious incarcerated aboard a fleet of docked prison ships for having refused the oath. On June 3, 1794, Father Collas du Bignon died aboard the vessel Les Deux-Associes at the age of fifty, having fallen ill from the inhumane conditions of his imprisonment.

Later in the day, I stumbled upon yet another path in my journey towards understanding the Passion in terms of politics. I opened Father Leo J. Trese's The Faith Explained (one more book I'm in the process of reading) to chapter eight and encountered this:

Two thousand years ago the emperors of Rome actually succeeded in conquering the world -- a much smaller world than the one we know today. ... A force of Roman soldiers was stationed in each country and there was a proconsul or governor to keep an eye on things. But otherwise the people were allowed to retain their own local governments, and follow their own laws and customs. ... That was the position of Palastine in the time of our Lord Jesus Christ. Rome was top boss, but the Jews had their own king, Herod, and were governed by their own parliament, or council, which was called the Sanhedrin. There were no political parties as we know them today, but there was something very much like our modern political "machine." This political machine was made up of the Jewish priests, to whom politics and religion were one and the same thing; the Pharisees, who were the "blue bloods" of their day; and the Scribes, who were the lawyers. ... They had nice soft jobs for themselves, and they were lining their pockets at the expense of the common people, whom they oppressed in a thousand ways. ... As he [Jesus] worked his miracles and spoke of the kingdom of God that he had come to establish, many of his hearers took his words literally ... . They talked of making Jesus their king right then and there, a king who would subdue the Sanhedrin and throw out the hated Romans. Word of all this reached the ears of the priests and the Scribes and the Pharisees. These corrupt men began to fear that the people might indeed stage a revolution, might indeed cast them out of their cozy and profitable offices. Their fear was turned to bitter hatred when Jesus publicly condemned them for their covetousness, their hypocrisy, their hardness of heart. They plotted among themselves as to how they might silence this Jesus of Nazareth who was such a threat ... .

Overriding all of these individual points has been my focus on leadership education and my concerns about our own political climate. The punctuation mark to "this pooling of perspectives" was delivered to my email inbox by PatriotPost.US today. It was this quote:

"If a nation expects to be ignorant -- and free -- in a state of civilization, it expects what never was and never will be." --Thomas Jefferson

Faith and government and education: they inform one another, and doing the right thing in one venue leads to doing what's right in the other venues.

A Thomas Jefferson Education: The Seven Keys of Great Teaching

2009-05-28T17:14:00.003-04:00

I've written about A Thomas Jefferson Education numerous times, but I don't think I've ever mentioned why Oliver Van DeMille chose Jefferson as the representative of leadership education. DeMille explains his choice in chapter four: "Whatever the culture, look at its greatest leaders and you will almost always find that they were guided by at least one outstanding mentor and made a lifetime study of classic works. Thomas Jefferson is a model of this system."

George Wythe, a signer of the Declaration of Independence and delegate to the Constitutional Convention, was Jefferson's mentor. DeMille defines a mentor as "someone of high moral character who is more advanced than the student and can guide his or her learning." He dedicates chapter four of his book to mentoring, identifying the "seven keys" of the concept. They are:

1. Classics, not Textbooks
The classics of literature, history, philosophy, science, mathematics, and religion introduce students to the greatest achievements of mankind. This introduction opens an avenue by which the student learns to think, lead and become great.

2. Mentors, not Professors
In leading a student towards a great education, a mentor creates an individualized program to meet the needs and goals of that particular student. George Wythe mentored two Supreme Court Justices, and a number of future senators, representatives, governors and judges. Each of these individuals followed a curriculum designed expressly for him.

3. Inspire, not Require
Instead of forcing a student to study a particular subject or complete so many pages, the mentor helps the student decipher what he needs, then encourages the student to work towards his goals. According to DeMille, the mentor does this by setting an example, helping the student understand available options, and giving the student the choice to work hard or not.

4. Structure Time, not Content
Simply put, this means the mentor ensures that the student has the time to study the subjects of choice. The mentor does not tell the student what to study and when.

5. Quality, not Conformity
Once students are about 12 years old, the mentor should start demanding quality. Rather than giving out grades, the mentor should give a "great work" or a "do it over." In athletics, coaches demand that players do it over (or practice) until they get it right. Mentors are coaches.

6. Simplicity, not Complexity
Education should be simple. Students need only read, write, do projects, and discuss what they've learned with a mentor. Further, to have a truly fruitful discussion, the mentor needs to be reading what the student is reading, studying and writing along with him.

7. You, not Them
A key part of setting an example for students is giving them opportunities to lead by telling the mentor what will be studied next. The mentor then gets to work, learning the assigned topic.

As mentioned earlier, the above applies to students aged about 12 and older. For younger students, the focus should be on teaching basic skills; nurturing a happy, interactive, confident child; helping the child distinguish between right and wrong; and encouraging a vibrant love of learning.

I'll be writing more about A Thomas Jefferson Education, because DeMille's book speaks to me on a profound level. For me, going to college was never really about getting a good job or embarking upon a career (just ask Dennis); it was about the love of learning. I remember sitting in on a presentation about Willard Daggett and his philosophies of education at my former high school after I had graduated from college and was working as a reporter for my hometown newspaper. I knew I was there simply to report on Daggett's "philosophy" that high school should be about preparing students for the workforce, because so many don't go on to college. I could not, however, remain in my seat and listen idly as teachers and parents discussed the merits of his advice. When I stood and asked, "What about education for the sake of knowledge, the love of learning, bettering oneself?" the vocational teacher on stage (who had been my teacher for the 8th-grade vocational class I was required to take) smiled in a patronizing way, and basically said something like, "All of that's good for you, Cheryl, but we're talking about what's best for most students."

Why isn't becoming a confident, competent leader, guided by the highest morals, not what's best for most students or even for society in general? It's what I want for my children, and it seems to be possible through leadership education. As DeMille points out, "When a person has come face-to-face with George Washington as a central part of her education, or with Esther or Ruth, she stands up in a crisis situation and says, 'I will not; neither will you.' The classics are a part of her. That's greatness and leadership, and all it takes are classics, mentors and hard work."

Of Pizza and Teaching Philosophies

2009-05-27T13:40:00.007-04:00

My entire family is gluten-free: Dennis, me and all five kids. I was the one who actually started all the foolishness nearly seven years ago. After a week of severe intestinal cramps and way too many trips to the bathroom, I went gluten-free. Relief was immediate. The suffering was also immediate on the rare occasions I accidentally ingested gluten. Three years later, Dennis was diagnosed with celiac disease. Bridget, Luke and Sam were each tested for celiac disease, but the results were negative. (Bridget did test postive for a wheat allergy --with an IgE level nearly twice the cut-off number.) Nevertheless, after doing lots of research on celiac disease and dealing with too many health and behavior problems in my children, I decreed that they would all go gluten-free too. (I have since learned of the widespread inaccuracy of celiac blood tests, especially in children). As with me, the positive results in the kids were immediate, the suffering they endured after accidently encountering gluten was more than uncomfortable, and the benefits have been long-lasting.

A gluten-free diet has its challenges, but feeling good 99% of the time and having happy children is worth every single struggle, even the daily ones, like thinking up lunches for everyone. Before going gluten-free, peanut butter and jelly sandwiches were the go-to meal. The gluten-free breads, bagels and English muffins we've tried as substitutes for "normal" bread, though, just haven't been good enough or inexpensive enough. Spending $8 on a loaf of bread is not worth it if tastes just o.k.

For now, pizza is the answer. The first few crust recipes I tried (from the Gluten-free Gourmet) were good, but not great. Then I discovered that the Southern-style White Bread recipe at www.betterbatter.org made a good crust with my own mix of white rice flour, tapioca flour, potato starch and xanthan gum, if I poured the batter into pie plates. When I started buying the Better Batter Flour on a regular basis (25 pounds shipped automatically for $65 each month), I started using it for the pizza crusts, which I spread out into small rounds. Now, I spread the dough over an entire rectangular baking sheet. I've tweaked the sauce, gone from shredded mozzarella to mozzarella sliced from a block, and most days I add fresh tomato slices under the cheese. I'm quite happy with my current creation, but have little doubt that my methods will continue to change.

In a similiar vein, my methods for teaching my children have evolved. When I started teaching Luke nine years ago, I closely followed Laura Berquist's advice in Designing Your Own Classical Curriculum. Finding ourselves bored with the busy work, though, Luke and I moved away from most of the workbooks. I started looking for something new, but was certain, even back then, that a boxed curriculum like Seton or Kolbe Academy was not for us. Over the years, I've explored the philosophies of Charlotte Mason, E.D. Hirsch's Core Knowledge Curriculum, notebooking, Dorothy and Raymond Moore, and leadership education. Through it all, the changes I've made have never been complete turn-arounds. As with my pizza, I've re-evaluated, tweaked and gone on searching.

At the moment, I'm moving back towards a classical curriculum, taught from a leadership education perspective, incorporating some of the sources used in the core knowledge series, with plenty of Charlotte Mason's narrating and some notebooking thrown into the mix. Oh, and in following the Moores' advice, I'm taking a very easy-going approach to formal studies with Sam and Henry, until they seem ready for more.

My home teaching career has not been without times of frustration and confusion, but the struggles have been part of the process. As a matter of fact, I hope that homeschooling will always be a process for my children and me. I don't ever want to feel like we've arrived at the perfect solution, because the search for something better is at least half the fun.

The Poetry of Memorial Day

2009-05-25T09:18:00.004-04:00

When I was young, I didn't know what Memorial Day was all about, but I remember running errands in downtown Millinocket with my Dad (who was a veteran of the Korean War). It was probably a Friday afternoon after I had gotten out of school for the day. Dad would always stop outside the bank or pharmacy to give money to one of the veterans standing there. I didn't understand this, but I loved the red, crepe paper poppies Dad received in return and handed to me.

Now, I understand that on Memorial Day we remember and pray for the souls of those who died defending our country and our freedom. A few conversations over the weekend and further delving into the philosophy of leadership education has made me all the more aware of how easily the freedoms we enjoy can be lost. Like a good poem, these conversations and Oliver Van DeMille's speech "On Liber and Public Virtue" provided opportunities for me to see freedom in a new light.

So, in honor of Memorial Day, I'd like to share two poems. This verse is one often associated with Memorial Day and explains those crepe paper poppies.

In Flanders fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.

We are the dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved, and were loved, and now we lie
In Flanders fields.

Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields.

— Lt.-Col. John McCrae (1872 - 1918)

The second poem was published in Magnificat as the Meditation of the Day. "An S.A.S. Soldier's Prayer" was found in 1941 on the body of British S.A.S. Lieutenant Andre Zirnheld when he was killed in action in Libya. The poem is a prayer, but a prayer not of desperation (as one may expect from a soldier facing probable death). Indeed, Zirnheld's unique request made me think differently about the usual petitions I send to God.

I bring this prayer to You, Lord,
For You alone can give
What one cannot demand from oneself.
Give me, Lord, what You have left over,
Give me what no one ever asks You for.
I don't ask You for rest,
Or quiet,
Whether of soul or body;
I don't ask You for wealth,
Nor for success, nor even health perhaps.
That sort of thing You get asked for so much
That You can't have any of it left.
Give me, Lord, what You have left over,
Give me what no one wants from You.
I want insecurity, strife,
And I want You to give me these
Once and for all.
So that I can be sure of having them always,
Since I shall not always have the courage
To ask You for them.
Give me, Lord, what You have left over,
Give me what others want nothing to do with.
But give me courage too,
And strength and faith;
For You alone can give
What one cannot demand from oneself.

Sidelined by Baseball

2009-05-22T08:51:00.007-04:00

The emails in my inbox keep piling up, as do the dishes. Dinners often consist of bowls of cereal, cheesesticks or any leftovers that can be found in the fridge. My mind is full of thoughts for my next profound post, but I cannot get to the computer to actually write it. The kids and I are reading lots of books together and learning Latin, but have not yet done anything about the flowers or vegetables we're hoping to plant. What's going on here? It's baseball season.

Luke is playing on the Maranacook Middle School 7th grade team and ...

a rec. league team.

Bridget's playing rec. league softball.

Henry's playing rec. league baseball.

Sam's playing rec. league T-ball.

Jack just plays.

Let Me Introduce You to--or Reacquaint You with--Anne

2009-05-13T11:29:00.006-04:00

"I'm just as ambitious as ever. Only, I've changed the object of my ambitions. ... Oh, I've dozens of plans, Marilla. I've been thinking them out for a week. I shall give life here my best, and I believe it will give its best to me in return. When I left Queen's my future seemed to stretch out before me like a straight road. I thought I could see along it for many a milestone. Now there is a bend in it. I don't know what lies around the bend, but I'm going to believe the best does. It has a fascination of its own, that bend, Marilla. I wonder how the road beyond it goes--what there is of green glory and soft, checkered light and shadows--what new landscapes--what new beauties--what curves and hills and valleys further on" (p. 293).

That passage is taken from the last chapter of Anne of Green Gables by Lucy Maud Montgomery. Luke, Bridget and I finished the book this morning. The last chapter was not too bad, but the previous one was very difficult to get through. Bridget read most of it, since I got choked up with tears everytime I tried. Luke made fun of me, but would not take it upon himself to read it. I suspect that he was afraid he might have a hard time getting through it.

I had never read Anne of Green Gables, but loved it. Bridget had read it on her own, and it's a favorite. Luke won't own up to liking it, but every morning, he has eagerly asked me to read it and The Spear, the other book we've been sharing.

Anne Shirley is a wonderful literary character, so full of life and ambition and wonder. She celebrates each and every high point in life as if no other moment could be as good, and she plunges herself into the depths of despair whenever life disappoints her. She sets lofty goals; works her hardest at achieving them; and with every accomplishment, sets new goals for herself. Her efforts are riddled with mistakes (most, very comical), but she makes a point of learning from her missteps and works to not repeat them. I'm so glad Luke, Bridget and I have gotten to know Anne and learn from her, and I look forward to introducing her to Henry, Sam, Jack and the baby in the years to come. If you have not yet met her, I urge you to do so.

The Blessings of Home Education

2009-05-07T09:01:00.003-04:00

Relaxed weekday mornings with a cup of coffee and 5-year-old Sam snuggling in my lap as I say my daily prayers.

Inspiration is Where You Find It, Episode 2: Banoffee Pie

2009-05-04T14:27:00.010-04:00

I subscribe to "The Word of the Day" from The Free Dictionary by Farlex. Each day, when I open my email, I find a message that contains a word and its definition, "The Quote of the Day," and the first paragraphs of "The Article of the Day," "This Day in History," and "Today's Birthday." Yesterday's "Article of the Day" was about Banoffee Pie. As you can imagine, it caught my attention. When I googled "banoffee pie," I found a recipe by Paula Deen on The Food Network. The kids were all for trying it out. We decided to make it today, but needed to do a little research first.

I read the article about the pie to the kids, we looked at the "original recipe," read Paula Deen's recipe, and, most helpful of all, read the reviews of Paula's recipe. We agreed to create our own version of Banoffee Pie and were rather pleased with the results, as you can see:

This is our recipe:

-Melt 5 Tbsp. butter in a pie dish in a 350-degree oven.
-Crush one package Mi-del Gluten-free Chocolate Chip Cookies and 1/2 cup of cashews in a blender or food processor.
-Mix cookies and cashews with melted butter and press into bottom of the pie dish. Bake, at 350, for 5 minutes.
-Pour two 14-oz. cans of sweetened condensed milk in the top of a double boiler. Fill the bottom with water and heat over medium-high heat for about 45 minutes, stirring occasionally, until the sweetened condensed milk carmelizes. It will turn a light tan color.
-Pour carmelized milk into pie dish, cover with plastic wrap and refrigerate until cool.
-Thinly slice two medium bananas, toss slices with lemon juice to prevent browning, and arrange slices on top of cooled pie.
-Garnish pie with Hershey's Kisses or shaved chocolate, cover with plastic and refrigerate at least an hour.
-This is a very rich pie, and small slices are best.

For those of you who don't like bananas (like Sam, who took them off of his slice, and then asked for another), try a toffee pie, substituting cashews, walnuts, pecans or almonds for the banana slices. The bananas cut the sweetness of the toffee filling, so it's important to substitute something salty (or at least unsweet), if you don't use them.

Enjoy your cooking adventures.

A Thomas Jefferson Education in terms of Current Events

2009-05-01T05:16:00.003-04:00

A member of the TJEdMuse group recently posted a question about a young woman using unconventional means to fight abortion. I read the article on Lila Rose, and thought about the question a little here, a little there, but figured I'd probably not get into it. When I awoke at 3 am, however, I started thinking about the question again, and found that I could not go back to sleep. I came downstairs, sat at my computer and typed out what my all-too-alert mind was mulling over. This is it:

The question: Is Lila Rose a stateswoman?

The short answer: Yes.

The long answer: Still yes, but that answer cannot be arrived at without an in-depth look. First and foremost, that look needs to start with the issue of abortion. Maria, you started the discussion with the statement, “Regardless of where you stand on abortion …” Your intent was probably to avoid a political discussion on the issue of abortion and to keep things objective. In essence, you’re saying: “Objectively, is Lila Rose a stateswoman?”

The question, however, cannot be answered without looking at the role abortion plays in the situation. The answer could very well be different if Rose was posing as a truant officer and visiting homeschool families to prove that the children were not sitting at a desk for six to seven hours, completing workbooks, taking spelling quizzes and answering page after page of math problems. You know as well as I do that there are no prescribed, one-size-fits-all, you-have-to-do-it-this-way formulas for home education. Abortion, however, is intrinsically wrong. No matter which euphemism is used (terminating a pregnancy, removing human tissue, etc.), abortion IS the killing of another human being. Because each and every human is created with inherent dignity, this is wrong. To deny the inherent dignity of each and every human being is to open the door to not only abortion, but prostitution, pornography, infanticide, euthanasia, exploitation of children or the handicapped, cloning and slavery. Dignity, with which every individual is endowed by the simple fact that he or she was created human, precludes one person from using another as if that person were an object, or less than human.

Lila Rose is a brave, smart young woman who has decided to address a wrong, and try to change an unjust law or two, by unconventional means. She knows that taking Planned Parenthood or other abortion providers to court seldom works. Putting pro-life referendums on the ballot seldom works. She’s leaving those venues to others.

Some have brought up the question of the ends justifying the means. No, you cannot do something wrong to bring about something right (abortion, for instance), but that is not the issue here. Rose is pretending to be someone she is not for the specific purpose of gathering evidence that will show laws are being broken. Police officers, CIA agents and the FBI do this all the time. Indeed, actors do it daily, as part of their jobs. As far as I know, she is not breaking any laws by doing this. Rose is not pretending to be a pregnant, 14-year-old when she’s out at the grocery store or trying to obtain welfare assistance. Indeed, she reminds me of Monsignor Hugh O’Flaherty, a Catholic priest who dressed in many disguises to save innocent people from being captured by the Nazis.

Rose has been accused of editing her videos from an hour or more of footage down to five or ten incriminating minutes. That tells me that she knows something about marketing. The producers of any nightly news show do it all the time, as do the public relations personnel in the White House. Furthermore, according to Rose, “… every time we release footage from a new clinic, we send complete copies of the footage to various state authorities, including the attorney general.” A friend recently sent me this quote by Andrew Pudewa: “A good idea poorly presented is not as powerful as a bad idea well presented — history proves this.”

So, how do Rose and her methods compare to the precedents set by other historic leaders? Let’s start with Jesus Christ. He was no wishy-washy, mamby-pamby pushover who said that whatever you believe is ok, as long as you’re nice to each other. When He was confronted with a wrong, he pointed it out for what it was, and He often broke Jewish law to do so. He turned over the tables of the money lenders in the temple; He cured on the Sabbath; He stood up for the adulteress, even though she had broken a law. Jesus was not concerned with following the law; He was concerned with doing what was right and teaching others to do what is right. Any person with a conveyor belt education can follow the law, but it takes a leader to try and change the law.

How about personal integrity? Even though Benjamin Franklin was apprenticed to his brother for a number of years, he ran away before his contract was fulfilled. Yes, Benjamin was unhappy and his brother treated him poorly, but does that make it right to run away from an obligation? Franklin was a strong, effective leader, but not all of his decisions showed that he was a man of integrity.

Indeed, Thomas Jefferson owned slaves. We hate it when modern “historians” bring that one up, don’t we, especially when they emphasize it to schoolchildren? It was, however, a fact. Yes, he freed some of them when he died, and he probably treated them all well. These circumstances, however, do not change the fact that he (who wrote, “all men are created equal…”) took part in a practice that denied the inherent human dignity of certain individuals just because of the color of their skin. Jefferson’s record, as far as integrity goes, is not blemish-free. He was a man of great mind. Why didn’t his great mind comprehend that even people with black skin cannot be treated like property? He was courageous enough to stand up to the King of England. Why wasn’t he courageous enough to live without slaves, no matter how it looked to his neighbors, no matter how much harder it made his own life?

The small amount of information I have on Lila Rose has really shown me nothing that impugns her integrity. In an effort to right a wrong (and people can come up with all the what-ifs in the world and argue until they’re blue in the face about whether or not abortion is wrong; it is), she has created a job for herself and has used legal means to accomplish the task at hand. In fact, she’s done an admirable job of thinking “outside the box” and leading others to help her change laws that victimize innocent people.

Book Review: The Remarkable and Very True Story of Lucy and Snowcap

2009-04-29T10:10:00.008-04:00

This book with a long title is a story of redemption. Almost paradoxically, it is a story about developing self-worth by learning to be selfless.

I have Bridget to thank for finding The Remarkable and Very True Story of Lucy and Snowcap by H.M. Bouwman at the library. I'll admit that I wasn't sure I wanted her reading it when she brought it to me, but I quelled my cynicism and decided I'd read it myself after Bridget finished it. You're probably thinking that I should have read it first, but Bridget was excited to get started. Besides, when any of my kids encounter opinions or philosophies that I disagree with, it gives me a chance to broach the subject. Bridget and I have had many good conversations on topics I wouldn't have dreamed of presenting to her just yet. (See my post on Beyond the Birds and the Bees.)

Bouwman's book takes place on a group of fictional islands in the Atlantic Ocean somewhere north of Virginia. The year is 1787, and Lucy, a twelve-year-old native girl of the Colay tribe, has found herself in the position of saving her newborn baby brother, Rob. Rob may be the last baby to be born on the island of Sunset, but minutes after his birth, Lucy is told by the midwife, "to take her newborn brother to the Lifestone Garden and leave him there to die." This is from the first sentence of chapter one. (Hence, my initial misgivings about Bridget reading the book.) What follows from that first sentence, though, is a lovely story of adventure, intrigue, faith, redemption and self-acceptance. The book touches upon Native-American-type magic and reverence for nature.

In her quest to save her brother from turning to stone, like all of the men and boys on Sunset, Lucy must travel with him to the island of Tathenn, an island inhabited by the Anglish, and one on which the Colay Islanders are forbidden to go. There, in the wilderness beyond the wall of Baytown, Tathenn's capital, Lucy and Rob encounter Snowcap, the 12-year-old, fairly well despised, Child Governor of the Anglish. Snowcap has run away from her Protector and her steward, because she has learned that they are trying to kill her. Snowcap blackmails Lucy into helping her recover her horse, and the two become rather unfriendly allies in a quest to reach the safety and assistance promised in the desert.

Interspersed thoughout Lucy and Snowcap's story are histories of the Colay and the Anglish, who arrived in Tathenn in 1775, when 236 prisoners of the British government bound for indentured servitude in Virginia are shipwrecked there. The criminals build a society and elect as governor Snowcap's father, Robert O'Kelly. Eleven years later, the governor and his wife, Snowcap's parents, are found dead, and the Island Colay are blamed for the double murder. Lucy and Snowcap's adventure takes place a year after that.

Interestingly, Bouwman, who teaches colonial and early American literature to college students, homeschools her own children. At the end of the book, Bouwman includes a few pages on the history of the British policy of exiling criminals. The Remarkable and Very True Story of Lucy and Snowcap would make an absorbing addition to the study of colonial America for kids aged ten and older.

Luke's Writing Lesson: Three Sentences

2009-04-28T10:22:00.002-04:00

Luke and I spent 15 minutes this morning working on his writing.

Here are his original three sentences:

They played baseball today. Their team won 12 to 1. After the game, they got ice cream.

Here are his revised sentences:

The Beavers played in the championship game against the Rats this afternoon. The Beavers routed their rivals, 12 to 1. After the game, the champions celebrated with root beer floats at Friendly's.