The Homeschool Journey

A Lovely Day of Nothing

My 12 year came down the stairs this morning at around 10 am, hunted around for cereal and then joined me in the living room where I was sprawled on the couch. "What are we doing today, Mama?" he asked. "Nothing, " I said. "Absolutely nothing". He smiled, said "good", checked that that didn't mean cleaning the house and then went out to see a friend.

 

My 14 year old, a great believer in "chilling" showed up about an hour later. After discussing the pros and cons of his putting more clothes on - this has been a damp squib of a winter so far but it is still not exactly balmy - and we do not keep our house warm (people often put their coats ON when visiting us!) he said "doing anything today?" I said no. He sat back and we spent a pleasant 1/2 an hour chatting about the dance he went to last night at high school - it was a themed 70's disco night and he delighted in the costumes that some kids wore.

 

Anyway, after a while he stretched, announced he had homework to do, watched the cat for about 10 minutes and then strolled upstairs. I continued to lie on the couch and watch the rain.

 

The fourth member of our family is away this weekend at a Conference - he is also a great believer in not rushing about, of making sure that there are frequent bouts of doing nothing in our days. Being British, that often involves cups of tea - which are not to be rushed or trivialized by being scheduled in amongst other activities. Often I might call him to do something only to get the response "I'm still drinking my tea" which translates to "I am not budging for at least 15 more minutes".

 

As a somewhat driven type-A sort of person, I do not always remember to chill, to hang out, to do nothing. Sometimes I have to take myself by the scruff of the neck and consciously "do nothing". Today it just happened. I stayed on that couch for a few hours, watching the rain and relaxing (after having decided to NOT  worry about if Global Warming is the reason for rain in January in Wisconsin!). I petted the cat. I admired the way our dining room is decorated. And, most importantly, I just sat quietly. Doing nothing.

 

Yes - I am on the computer at the moment - and yes, I did do a few things: some dishes, some vacuuming, some hassling of the 12 year old to do his chores, some thinking about the next book I'm writing. But because I surrounded this in "doing nothing", because I feel relaxed and unhurried, these things did not feel like oppressive "have-to's" but rather pleasant interludes in the midst of "doing nothing".

 

So many people seem to rush through life, dragging their children with them, multi tasking and galloping from one thing to the next, from one commitment to the other. So few people seem to have time for a cup of tea with a neighbor or time to just sit in the sun and smell the flowers. I am so glad that I decided many years ago to consciously "do nothing" at times - I'm sure my health would have suffered - as well as my relationships had I not made this decision. And I so value that my sons just love to relax and take it easy from time to time, are not maniacally rushing about - can appreciate a comfortable home life. Perhaps it was because we read Munro Leaf's Ferdinand the Bull so many times when they were young - interesting that when my 12 year old was arranging his book shelves the other day, putting away books that were too young for him, that Ferdinand remained. "Ah, Ferdinand" I said, picking up the book. "Yes" said Gabriel "I always loved Ferdinand - and I still do".

 

And so do I.

 

Homeschool Writing Group

I have started a little weekly gathering of homeschooled children at my home. We meet every Tuesday morning - there are four children, including my younger son and they range in age from 11 to 13.

 

The three who are not mine arrive at 9am - last week they were 15 minutes late and I had told them that they would be hung up by their toes and whipped with wet noodles if they were late again.... today they arrived 30 seconds early and we stood on the porch counting down to 9:00 on the dot, with loud, exuberant cries of "5...4...3...2...ONE!!!" as we got to the appointed time. Once coats are shed and backpacks scruffled through and laments shared about one child's new wheat free diet, we settle down around the dining room table.

 

"OK - what did we do last week?" I ask. Last week, we recall together, we talked about how good writing is lively, never boring and how we can use our senses to make our writing lively.

 

"We smelled things" remembers one boy - indeed - I had them sniff a variety of things (nutmeg, molasses, chutney, Italian herbs, liquid paper - carefully!! - the dog....)  and then come up with words that described the smell. No cut rate words like "good" or "spicy" were allowed - words like "pungent" "aromatic" and the like were what I was looking for.

 

Today we searched for words to describe our cat who has a fondness for writing classes - whenever I teach a class at home he always either sits in the middle of the children, observing them with a slightly patronizing aura, or settles down nearby, folded up, meditating on our lessons. He is a - "huge", "plump!", "no - that's not big enough - monstrous!" cat. In the end we settled on "monumental" as a fitting way to describe Sam.

 

Then we wrote sentences describing each other - it was lovely to see children whom their parents worriedly described to me as "not very happy about writing" or "I don't know if he'll come - he's ashamed of his spelling" - jump to pick up their pens and gleefully write their sentences ("shhhh... I need to think"). My one comment "Nothing offensive, please" drew chortles. Then I placed a very unusual chess piece on a stool for them describe. And last, I asked them to describe the dog's chew toy.

 

Then they read out what they had written - I do not yet look at this group's writing - I also had them read out their home assignments. One boy didn't even want to do that - so I asked if he would just tell us a bit about it. He was happy to do that and in the end actually wound up reading us his lovely description of his cat.   Practically falling over each other in their eagerness to get to read aloud, they shared delightful descriptions of "a boy hunched over his writing, concentrating fiercely" and "an ivory colored king ready to defend his stool" and "a pink and blue ball laden with bumps".

 

As cats seemed to be a theme for the day, I read them a delightful poem about cats. A moment's silence followed my reading - "oh yes, that's just like cats!" They sat quietly, thinking about cats.

 

We spent a few moments looking at their homework for next week - a fill in the blank assignment which seeks interesting ways of describing things plus a few short sentences which they need to write describing, among other things, the sight of a newborn kitten and the experience of walking across hot sand.

 

"Ok - 15 minutes break and then it's time for some geography." I say.

 

"Ok", they answer - "but we want to do some more writing". How satisfying for me to head toward the kitchen hearing them plotting,  "ok, let's write about the dog..."

 

 

 

The Waldorf View on Teaching

(this is a response I gave to a question on my yahoo group Waldorf_At_Home)

 

I think a question could be asked "how does the child know to ask what she wants? How does she know what she wants?" This is subtle at times - other times it is obvious.

 

A key core of Waldorf - of anthroposophy - is the idea of development - on all levels, spiritual, physical, emotional, intellectual. If one is developing and changing, how can one know at the beginning what one needs to know? Children are not, in my opinion, like Athena, fully formed, springing  from their father's heads, goddesses of wisdom, knowing all there is to know. They are new here and their job is to learn. And our job, as parents and educators, is to teach, guide, suggest, show, withhold, create, inspire, lead and hold back - as appropriate.

 

"As appropriate" - that's the trick. How to read the child so one can interpret what is going on, can meet the needs that are being displayed - or not. Or are behind what a child might be articulating.

I am reminded of the story of Parzival, the mediaeval grail hero. This story is taught to 11th graders in Waldorf schools. The central dilemma of Parzival is that he does not know what question to ask - and he bumbles about making a mess of things until he figures out how to delve inside and know what to ask - not, mind you, what he needs to KNOW - but what he needs to ASK. Part of growing up, part of what one needs as one moves toward adulthood is the ability to start to know what one needs to know. The next long part of the journey is finding that knowledge.

 

John Dewey and John Holt and Waldorf do not fit together (or Montessori, either). This does not, of course, mean that one can't learn an enormous amount from these educators. But at essence, they come from very different views on what a child is and how she or he learns. I don't have much time for either Dewey or Montessori myself - but I do love  John Holt's work - I find much of what he says very inspiring - I also find much of it exasperating!

 

One key difference here is that though all these other educators of course also recognize distinct stages of child development, for them what this means is very different than what it means to a Waldorf person.  One could (somewhat crudely) summarize Dewey, Holt and Montessori as saying
they have an "apprentice" view of childhood. Children are younger, less experienced - but in essence not much different than adults. Therefore, it is simply a question of creating the optimal environment, opportunities for learning. Children should be allowed to lead in their educations as, through the act of learning, they will learn what they need to know.

 

Quite different from this is  an anthroposophical or Waldorf  point of view, the key element being that little children have a totally different consciousness than adults - even than older children. It is not simply a matter of being less experienced. It is about the little child having a totally different perception of life - and in part, this has to do with the strong spiritual connection little children have - their sense of oneness - the natural religious state of the little child that Steiner refers to. So for a Waldorf person, it is not just that children have less experience - it is that their experience of life is different from an adult's - and part of an adult's job is to guide them toward their next stage of life, as their development naturally unfolds. And some of that guidance definitely involves teaching.

 

And last, I should just say that no Waldorf person worth his salt - and certainly not Steiner - ever tried to say "what is right for every child". However,  Waldorf education is not just about acquiring skills, such as reading - it is about the growth and development of all parts of the child, of the human being. And - from an anthroposophical point of view - all human beings carry within themselves a discernible pattern of growth - and it is to this the education speaks. You might be interested in my "Waldorf Curriculum Overview for Homeschoolers" - in it I give an in-depth picture of the curriculum, from 1st through 8th grades and WHY things are taught in the way they are taught and when. Then I give lots of ideas on how homeschoolers might work with that at home - and part of that definitely includes the recognition that skills (like math) are acquired at widely differing ages, as you have experienced in your family.

 

Fantasy and Imagination

(another message taken from my yahoo group Waldorf_At_Home and reworked slightly...)

When working with questions around the existence of fairies, I guess it all depends on how one views the world, all of Creation and the powers that work within it. One could, as some suggest,
say that fairies live only in the imagination. One could also think of such Beings as an aspect of God's working through the world - that they are real in that they are expression of God, just as angels are another kind of spiritual being.  And, from an anthroposophical point of view, "imagination" is exactly what one needs to "see" and experience such beings: for an anthroposophist, imagination is not synonymous with fantasy or make-believe - it is a faculty which can give us insights into the world. But to use it properly one must be disciplined and learn
how to use it. It is a "higher faculty" which Steiner said all human beings have the capacity to use should they wish.

 

Another point is that, from a Waldorf point of view, children are so recently arrived from the spiritual worlds, that their faculties for relating to spiritual beings are often still intact, have not yet been dulled by our rampant materialism. So when we allow for this interaction, we are honoring where they are at, developmentally. It is not about adult agendas of a certain kind of spirituality!

 

If one looks closely at the Waldorf curriculum, one sees how it mirrors the child's changing relationship to the spiritual worlds and that this in turn mirrors the human being's changing relationship to the spiritual worlds over long historical periods: the young child is in the "nature spirits" phase of development, the third grader needs to find a relationship to God's Law (Old Testament stories), the Fourth Grader is further developing his sense of right and wrong and the ambiguities of this (4th grade Norse myths) on through the mechanistic anti-spiritualism of the 19th century, studied when the child is at the threshold of adolescence, when s/he needs to make his own relationship to the world and to God.

 

So, from a Waldorf point of view, encouraging children to "see" fairies and such is not lying, is not make-believe. It is a path of encouraging them to imaginatively enter into the world, beyond the boundary of what is discernible on the ordinary level. The Christianity I espouse allows for this: seeing that God's Creation is infinitely wondrous, that Spirit is everywhere - but that human beings can also know and experience this Spiritual world. If this goes against your beliefs, then I guess you'll just have to leave it to the realm of  "just play".

 

 

Star Wars and Lego

(this originally appeared in a slightly different form on my yahoo group, Waldorf_At_Home)

 

I have always loved Star Wars and have always been moved by what I perceive as a modern day fairy tale. I have two boys - and Stars Wars has been a feature of our lives since they were about 4 or 5 (no media before that so they didn't pick it up).

 

Having said that, they "got it" seemingly from the ethers as they weren't permitted to see the video (and only the first for a while as the violence gets a bit out of hand in Return of the Jedi if I remember correctly) until they were about 9/10 years old.  So these strong cultural influences do seem to effect us whether we like it or not!

 

Anyway.... as those of you who have my kindergarten book know, I am all for sword play -  with guidelines. One  rule that some people use is "no touching bodies". I  feel that swords can be a good thing because of how active the children need to be when they play with them. Light sabers would be the same.

 

Obviously, if a theme like Star Wars seems to be taking over a child's life, then parents might get concerned. But I would suggest this is perfectly normal - a good thing. Once upon a time it was cowboys and Indians in this country - I think (for a variety of reasons) that Star Wars is far preferable and that the storyline in those films is admirable (I'd prefer a bit more creative civil disobedience... but I guess pop culture hasn't gotten there yet!).

 

As for Lego, I do wish that more of it was open ended - unfortunately, most lego seems these days to be confined to these little Harry Potter or Star Wars kits - too limiting in scope, I would say. At least when you just get the plain pieces, the child can make up whatever story in her mind that she wants instead of being tied to what the manufacturers want to push. Plus they are so ridiculously expensive! So I don't have much problem with lego, either. It's not beautifully hand crafted out of wood from Germany.... but so what? I definitely think children need their senses protected but if their environments are generally nurturing and they have loads of opportunity for creative open ended non-adult directed play, then some lego - or playmobile or plastic farm or other figures - is, in my opinion, no biggie. My boys certainly had all this stuff. And to be honest, I think some lego and play  mobile is more open ended than carefully and beautifully crafted wooden refrigerators and cell phones - the point is, a cardboard box or block of wood would be better for those things. Because then, when the child's imagination and the needs of her play dictate, that cardboard box cum refrigerator can become a stable or cave or car or whatever. When the thing is made to only be a refrigerator - by an adult - then it can't be anything but.

 

And I mean no disrespect to any people reading this who make their livings either by making or selling beautiful wooden toys.

 

Christmas with Older Children

Well, the holidays are over - today is Three Kings' or Epiphany. It is the day that we take down our decorations and officially bring the Christmas season to a close in our family.

 

My sons are now 12 and 14 - somehow, even more so than last Christmas, their "advanced years" have made a real change in how we celebrate the Advent - Christmas times. I didn't put out a Nativity tableau this year for one - in past years we'd start with the first week of Advent, with the Mineral Kingdom. On a corner table I'd place our dark blue cloth and carefully arrange a few select crystals and rocks. There's be only one of the four red candles on our Advent wreath lit. The following week the Plant Kingdom would join us - that was the week that we'd hang a wreath on our door and two candles would be lit on our indoor wreath.

 

By week three - especially if week four was going to be a very short week - things would really start happening - the animals would have joined the Nativity scene, three candles would have been lit and mysterious whisperings and package -rustling's would be heard from time to time. We'd start planning where the Christmas tree would go this year and all the cookies and cards and other preparations would be made during this week.

 

A few days before Christmas Eve the tree would come. Most years it came from our property - one memorable year it came from a nearby prairie restoration site near our house where pine trees are regarded as invasive. That year the tree was chopped, placed on a sled and dragged home over the snow and ice! Each year our tree sits for a day or two unadorned - then we have a very elaborate ritual on Tree Decorating Night involving music, and a very precise order of how the ornaments are placed on the tree. Over the next couple of days the presents pile grows under the tree until everything is set by the afternoon of Christmas Eve. That night we have a light meal and the stockings are hung up at bedtime.

 

The next morning Paul and I would be woken by cries of "Is it time yet?" - in a moment of brilliant inspiration many years ago, I came up with an adult-sanity preserving rule which says that stockings can only be opened on Mama and Daddy's bed - and thus if the boys wake at a horribly early hour, we'd be able to say "not yet!"

 

When they were little, one present could be opened first thing - everything else had to wait until after lunch - when we lived in England there was a half-hearted tradition of "not til after the Queen's Speech" ie after 3pm but that rule - and the Queen - got forgotten over the years.

 

So that's what our Advent to Christmas to Epiphany have been like for us. But this year I didn't bring out the Nativity scene. Somehow I no longer wanted to "make the figures appear" at night when the boys slept. We had our Advent calendar - a very grown up one of St Basil's Cathedral in Moscow - each window opened to show a different icon. Gabriel, the 12 year old, faithfully opened it each morning. Daniel is in his"bah-humbug" phase though I did catch him occasionally peering at the calendar to look at the pictures.

 

Our tree decorating ritual was different - Daniel refused to participate, saying he had too much homework to do (he's in the local Waldorf high school). Again, when it was done, he did appear to sit with us in the dark with the tree lit, admiring it. We discussed stockings. This year we are in a new house - I said to the boys "hey, you know the sky light in Daddy and my bedroom? I'm pretty sure that's where Santa comes down so I think you guys had better leave your stockings in our bedroom." They grinned in delight, scoffed, made a few rude comments about Santa - and complied. There was some brief discussion about Paul and I having our own stockings next year - Gabriel was particularly keen on that idea. On Christmas Eve they dutifully presented their stockings. And the next morning I was very amused to hear whispering outside my bedroom door - "do you think they're awake yet?". The boys ripped through their  stocking presents with delight - no sophisticated beyond belief teen/older child stuff here!

 

Our story traditions and singing round the tree evenings have changed too. Only once did we sing together - it was a spontaneous event and I don't think the boys would have cooperated had it been planned. But singing together was lovely and brought back many memories. I skipped most of our usual stories this year. The one exception was Paul's traditional read aloud of Dylan Thomas' A Child's Christmas in Wales - complete with Welsh accents. That is such a beautifully written and hiariously funny little book - and it brings back fond memories of Christmases past in Britain.

 

Today Gabriel and I will take down our Christmas lights, the wreath on the door and the tree. In years past the tree would disappear on Three Kings' Eve and then reappear on St John's Tide at the height of the summer to be burnt on a bonfire. But we are in town now, too, which  means no bonfire and helpful garbage collectors who will whisk our tree away to go on the municipal recycling heap.

 

So changes have come. It feels right. And I also know that things will continue to evolve - I am sure, for instance, that as my elder son moves through early adolescence he will get over his distaste for family rituals and come to appreciate what we do from real maturity instead of displaying the angst of being a 14 year old. So I know that we will revisit many things and bring them back into our family life, but in a new and renewed form. Next year, for instance, I plan to ask Daniel to put out the Nativity scene himself and perhaps to read some of the Christmas stories to the rest of us. This year would have been too early - next year - or the next - will probably be just right.