I'm thinking about highschool. It's four years away for my oldest offspring and...more than four years ago for me. Actually it's nearly 20 years ago for me. How did that happen? How can I, this young thing just burgeoning into adulthood, have been cognisant of anything TWENTY years ago? Last Saturday I attended a highschool reunion of sorts. It was an appreciation day for two teachers from my school and former students from all their 30 years of teaching were invited to come and bless them for their work.
I spoke to several of my teachers that were also there and a point of relief came to me pertaining to my own homeschooling teaching efforts. I don't remember anything, specifically, that any of these people taught me. Of course, this isn't entirely true. (nothing under the sun really ever is) I do remember that the Drumlin Moraine lies somewhere on the way to the Toronto airport. My Gr. 10 Geography teacher once asked me to keep an eye out for it when I asked him what homework I would have to catch up on if I missed a day to make the big trip to the city to pick up some Dutch relatives. I tried to impress him with this morsel of important information and he himself had no idea what it was anymore, even after 20 years of teaching about it in his courses. Then he said that the older he got, the more he forgot about small things and only remembered the larger things that he was still learning. Hm. This was an excellent reminder to me, the me who used to rant to anyone who was interested, that education wasn't about memorizing 20 out of 20 things set before you about glaciers, and rocks and woe to the child who only remembers 16. The latest version of me has grown tired and scared that my kid will be the one that quite possibly may only know 5 things about glaciers and the defecit in his soul will be entirely on my shoulders. I need to step back, drink a coffee or something stronger, and remember that my children's ability to fulfil their role in the kingdom does not depend on much study that only wearies the body. And holy cow does it ever.
What do I do then, to help them on their way? I began to think more about what has stayed with me from my own school days. I remember the passion of my English teacher. Vividly. The first assignment I ever got from him was to read "The Shadow of Captain Bligh" and answer some questions. So I did, on the bus, like I always did. I was not an A student, most of the time, but I naturally possessed the skill to give teachers what they required to reward me with a half decent grade that would quiet any alarm bells and let me coast peacably and still have time to watch television. (But of course, I expect nothing but excellence from my children all day long;)) So when the question came about who was Albert Schweitzer I replied that he was some kind of Nazi since his name was German and Nazis had been mentioned in the story. But instead of marking me down a point and moving on to the next assignment, Mr. VH nearly hissed (benevolently so) that Albert was most certainly not a Nazi and that I would do the assignment again. I still remember the feeling of reading that difficult passage and actually understanding it, having turned my brain on. I don't remember the actual story at all, only the challenge I was given to wrestle and understand.
During another of these English classes I was caught doing homework for another class (those hour and half busrides were never long enough) . Mr VH locked his searching eyes on me, unawares, and demanded answers to the burning question "What. What do the bubbles under the ice allude to? " I wanted to give an intelligent response, I had to give an intelligent response so I tried some old standbys that often worked in these situations: They signify the difference between fantasy and reality?...Nope. They have to do with a Christ-like figure that saves the undeserving? Not either. His squinting eyes continued to bore a hole into my brain and I felt the essence of my mind being stretched and getting more brittle as each agonizing minute passed. He released, my head dropped and hit the desk with an audible thunk. Where did he get those powers?! How did he get 16 year olds to care whether Hagar Shipley drank from the cup at the end of her miserable, old-lady life and engage in a heated debate about this fictional character's dying act for a whole 75 minute period?? (Although, I remember thinking, about half-way through, that there were poor, starving children in Africa and those were the non-fictitious people we should spend our time discussing. See? Made me think.) He loved literature and he knew how to pass that flame on, even to teenagers. I nearly became an English major because of his pursuit of the profound. Dodged a bullet there. Instead, I pursued the lucrative field of the visual arts. Still can't tolerate a bad book, though. Gah, he's still in my brain!!
A like-minded friend and I went for coffee the other day and I shared some of what I've just written and wondered with her what a focus on the inspirational love of learning might look like in the often messy and seemingly chaotic rhythm of a home education setting. Many of our friends' children seem to thrive with a rigorous structure with a high standard of academic excellence in more subject areas than I have fingers and toes. My questioning nature sometimes wonders why I or my children could never pull that off. My friend said it well when she shared something she had read about how we prepare our children for eternity, not merely for the future. I like that. When I fully understand what that means and how it relates to fractions and dipthongs and sorting socks I will write a practical how-to guide. But you shouldn't read it because it won't directly apply to you or your family. God gave you your own brain and people and circumstances along the way to stretch and prod it into the shape it is today. And it will probably just go and change shape again tomorrow.
So to sum with a phrase from Charlotte Mason (may her name ever be revered...sorry:) all I can do is lay the banquet table with good food and invite great people to share it with us.
Wednesday 4 April 2012
Sunday 5 February 2012
I have a dream...
At certain moments throughout any given day I hear the famous words "I have a dream" resounding in my mind; I have a dream...that someday I will go to the bathroom and nobody will call my name. I have a dream ...that I'll someday be able to make a telephone call without having to run from the noise that pursues me up the stairs and persists behind the bedroom door.... I have a dream...that one day I will open the fridge and find a full bag of milk already cut open and ready to pour.
Of course, these are the inspirational words of the famous leader of the Civil Rights movement that changed an entire nation's attitude toward an oppressed people. It occurs to me that perhaps I should dream a little bigger.
Sometimes I miss thinking. I recall a time when I had opinions, some of them even informed ones. When I think back about the things I used to enjoy debating they now seem to me as insignificant ravings of an ideallistic youth. After all, there now are more pressing matters to occupy that brainspace. Like pondering anew how to convince the children that sweeping the kitchen floor is important. Discovering new ways to distract the two year old enough so I can get that stubborn jam off her face without a 10 minute scrabble on the floor with plenty of screaming and feathers flying. Or, debating the merits of spaying the cat over letting her yowl her way into our REM sleep until she can eventually have plenty of kittens we would enjoy for 6 weeks and then would have to give away as birthday presents to all of the children's friends.
Many people will tell you that parenting is a very important job and they are absolutely right. Nurturing the minds, bodies, and souls of the next generation really will change the world. And therefore it is an absolute priviledge to be entrusted with the task of scraping the hairy, sticky spots under the kitchen table that these leaders of tomorrow create as they eat their daily bread. My five year old daughter said it best as she scrubbed the lunch dishes the other day and gabbed, as she always does, with her imaginary housewife friends. " Ya, we don't think of anythin'. We just clean, clean, clean." This isn't entirely true, of course. Parents agonize endlessly about what methods, foods, lessons, experiences, chores, media influences etc. etc. will benefit their child's character. I have found that this really does give parents an opportunity to seek out that which is good in this world. Occasionally though, it is refreshing to think about things that have nothing, directly, to do with your children. And this is what I sorely miss at times.
And now some words in praise of Facebook. Often people will post pictures of cute little animals saying mischievious things and these will make my gooey brains chuckle a bit. And I welcome the ridiculous diversion. But, at other times people will post articles they have read (not the ones about the Kardashians) about the art community, human rights issues in any number of places in the world, innovations in ecological technology and many, many other topics that involve thoughtful people exploring this world. I have learned many things in readily available, digestible snippets posted by passionate friends and acquaintances. Some of the most interesting and thought provoking of these come from people who do not share my worldview at all and yet have crossed my path enough to become my 'friend'. So thank you, Facebook, my lazy man's encyclopedia of humanity. God seems to use the internet, and so do I. ...He also has been known to have used books, conversations, sermons, nature, music, art, television just for those who would be quick to point this out.:)_
I'm actually getting near the end of the bent-over slogging portion of my life as a parent with my youngest soon to be turning three. I'm at a time in my life when it seems that nurturing a "Mom(adult)culture" in my life seems possible and not just one more good thing that doesn't fit into my endless list of duties. Always seems like you're doing too much yet never enough. (and of course I already miss the tender baby days. :)) Time to look up, all the way up, and re-evaluate which thoughts matter and are worth pursuing. Dream about what my family and I can do to live fully and with purpose in this world.
I gon start by finishin ma book The Help. (Can't stop talkin' like that Minny)
Of course, these are the inspirational words of the famous leader of the Civil Rights movement that changed an entire nation's attitude toward an oppressed people. It occurs to me that perhaps I should dream a little bigger.
Sometimes I miss thinking. I recall a time when I had opinions, some of them even informed ones. When I think back about the things I used to enjoy debating they now seem to me as insignificant ravings of an ideallistic youth. After all, there now are more pressing matters to occupy that brainspace. Like pondering anew how to convince the children that sweeping the kitchen floor is important. Discovering new ways to distract the two year old enough so I can get that stubborn jam off her face without a 10 minute scrabble on the floor with plenty of screaming and feathers flying. Or, debating the merits of spaying the cat over letting her yowl her way into our REM sleep until she can eventually have plenty of kittens we would enjoy for 6 weeks and then would have to give away as birthday presents to all of the children's friends.
Many people will tell you that parenting is a very important job and they are absolutely right. Nurturing the minds, bodies, and souls of the next generation really will change the world. And therefore it is an absolute priviledge to be entrusted with the task of scraping the hairy, sticky spots under the kitchen table that these leaders of tomorrow create as they eat their daily bread. My five year old daughter said it best as she scrubbed the lunch dishes the other day and gabbed, as she always does, with her imaginary housewife friends. " Ya, we don't think of anythin'. We just clean, clean, clean." This isn't entirely true, of course. Parents agonize endlessly about what methods, foods, lessons, experiences, chores, media influences etc. etc. will benefit their child's character. I have found that this really does give parents an opportunity to seek out that which is good in this world. Occasionally though, it is refreshing to think about things that have nothing, directly, to do with your children. And this is what I sorely miss at times.
And now some words in praise of Facebook. Often people will post pictures of cute little animals saying mischievious things and these will make my gooey brains chuckle a bit. And I welcome the ridiculous diversion. But, at other times people will post articles they have read (not the ones about the Kardashians) about the art community, human rights issues in any number of places in the world, innovations in ecological technology and many, many other topics that involve thoughtful people exploring this world. I have learned many things in readily available, digestible snippets posted by passionate friends and acquaintances. Some of the most interesting and thought provoking of these come from people who do not share my worldview at all and yet have crossed my path enough to become my 'friend'. So thank you, Facebook, my lazy man's encyclopedia of humanity. God seems to use the internet, and so do I. ...He also has been known to have used books, conversations, sermons, nature, music, art, television just for those who would be quick to point this out.:)_
I'm actually getting near the end of the bent-over slogging portion of my life as a parent with my youngest soon to be turning three. I'm at a time in my life when it seems that nurturing a "Mom(adult)culture" in my life seems possible and not just one more good thing that doesn't fit into my endless list of duties. Always seems like you're doing too much yet never enough. (and of course I already miss the tender baby days. :)) Time to look up, all the way up, and re-evaluate which thoughts matter and are worth pursuing. Dream about what my family and I can do to live fully and with purpose in this world.
I gon start by finishin ma book The Help. (Can't stop talkin' like that Minny)
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