A...maze...ing. Today I looked at my girl in her room, reading, writing, sketching, and I saw photos of your kids over time. "This is normal" I thought. Your photos show me the way and affirm every step. I am really clear that without you ahead of me there would have been far more existential crisis. Funny, I don't look further. I don't really need to, apparently. All I need is one other to look over and nod. And inside I hear the Voice, "Yup". With that, my fearful ego steps out of the way, yet again. So many thanks.
This is a particularly raw one. I saw my boy pick up a pen and try cursive five or so years ago. I saw him put it down again a few months later. Somehow I had failed to support him through to having a product. He left off with swirls. My sister shook her head in sorrow at the loss, "That was his window. He was ready." Tears fell and I ached at the ways I was blowing it as a parent. Could she be right? Were windows slamming shut for a lifetime as I woefully and ignorantly stumbled forward?
It's so very healing to see this exquisite penmanship. Please thank the H, and share how this beautiful work soothed my soul from a five year old sting.
CC, I don't know whether to laugh with joy or cry buckets filled with sorrow. "That was his window. He was ready." Its nothing at all against your sister. She is simply suffering under the same institutionalized brain damage all of us schooled kids suffer. Maybe laughing is best? I laugh to think of our collective fear of windows shutting, the windows on the school house, I suppose. We should be afraid of losing that teeny tiny bit of fresh air they allow us, right?
FUCK THE FUCKING WINDOWS. Blow the whole fucking wall right out of the building and step through the rubble to freedom.
I guess I'm feeling dramatic this morning. I know you already know my mind. Your presence in my life is as comforting to me as, apparently, I am to you. Its true that we're all walking each other home, eh?
Henry's daily handwriting, completely self taught, is small and a bit scrabbly and can be difficult to read. (Sorry Darling, but you know its true.) At some point last year I was gripped with fear that my kids (gasp) hadn't been exposed to cursive. A wise friend told me to simply make sure they could read it. So I wrote them a letter in cursive, walked into each of their rooms, and asked if they could read the letter. Both paused, read the letter, and nodded the affirmative. What a relief. Then I felt silly because I realized that cursive is simply a fucking font. A FONT. All this trouble and agony over a font. You know what that reinforced for me?
The timeline of institutional education is arbitrary and meaningless. The kids at Durham Academy, in the 1970s, placed huge and snooty emphasis on the fact that they learned cursive in in third grade. Us public schoolers didn't get it until forth or fifth. Oh how that seemed to matter at the time. I guess its very easy to fool little children. What's more remarkable is how easily the adults hove to. I guess they catch us all early, though.
That same time, I bought myself a notebook and a calligraphy pen and started practicing with them for fun. Both kids were mildly interested, briefly. Henry experiments from time to time. Because, I am guessing, its nice to bring some style to the table occasionally. At least, I think that's his motivation. I don't really know because unschooled kids proceed from their own internal drive. Ry's general handwriting is basically nice across the board in a level way. But sometimes she experiments too.
I'd like to repeat, for any teachers reading this, neither of my children have ever been taught how to read or write. No lessons in penmanship, grammar, structure, shaping letters, nothing. Except when they were about 12 they took a creative writing class and both wrote a short story. The class was roughly 6 contact hours. And this year they are both taking an expository writing class at my behest. Its one of my few requirements for graduation from our homeschool.
My dear spouse just growled, and said F your sister! If she wasn't the founder and curriculum developer and leader for a whole school, it might be less egregious. A font. OMG. Good point. BTW - there are names in your reply. XOXOXO
You can tell I was upset because I slipped into actual names for a moment. Its just that this problem we have in society of bullying little children in the name of academia makes.me.crazy.
Whose gorgeous penmanship?
ReplyDeleteH-man, never schooled in cursive. Both kids picked it up easily, naturally, in their teens.
ReplyDeleteA...maze...ing. Today I looked at my girl in her room, reading, writing, sketching, and I saw photos of your kids over time. "This is normal" I thought. Your photos show me the way and affirm every step. I am really clear that without you ahead of me there would have been far more existential crisis. Funny, I don't look further. I don't really need to, apparently. All I need is one other to look over and nod. And inside I hear the Voice, "Yup". With that, my fearful ego steps out of the way, yet again. So many thanks.
ReplyDeleteThis is a particularly raw one. I saw my boy pick up a pen and try cursive five or so years ago. I saw him put it down again a few months later. Somehow I had failed to support him through to having a product. He left off with swirls. My sister shook her head in sorrow at the loss, "That was his window. He was ready." Tears fell and I ached at the ways I was blowing it as a parent. Could she be right? Were windows slamming shut for a lifetime as I woefully and ignorantly stumbled forward?
It's so very healing to see this exquisite penmanship. Please thank the H, and share how this beautiful work soothed my soul from a five year old sting.
CC, I don't know whether to laugh with joy or cry buckets filled with sorrow. "That was his window. He was ready." Its nothing at all against your sister. She is simply suffering under the same institutionalized brain damage all of us schooled kids suffer. Maybe laughing is best? I laugh to think of our collective fear of windows shutting, the windows on the school house, I suppose. We should be afraid of losing that teeny tiny bit of fresh air they allow us, right?
ReplyDeleteFUCK THE FUCKING WINDOWS. Blow the whole fucking wall right out of the building and step through the rubble to freedom.
I guess I'm feeling dramatic this morning. I know you already know my mind. Your presence in my life is as comforting to me as, apparently, I am to you. Its true that we're all walking each other home, eh?
Henry's daily handwriting, completely self taught, is small and a bit scrabbly and can be difficult to read. (Sorry Darling, but you know its true.) At some point last year I was gripped with fear that my kids (gasp) hadn't been exposed to cursive. A wise friend told me to simply make sure they could read it. So I wrote them a letter in cursive, walked into each of their rooms, and asked if they could read the letter. Both paused, read the letter, and nodded the affirmative. What a relief. Then I felt silly because I realized that cursive is simply a fucking font. A FONT. All this trouble and agony over a font. You know what that reinforced for me?
The timeline of institutional education is arbitrary and meaningless. The kids at Durham Academy, in the 1970s, placed huge and snooty emphasis on the fact that they learned cursive in in third grade. Us public schoolers didn't get it until forth or fifth. Oh how that seemed to matter at the time. I guess its very easy to fool little children. What's more remarkable is how easily the adults hove to. I guess they catch us all early, though.
That same time, I bought myself a notebook and a calligraphy pen and started practicing with them for fun. Both kids were mildly interested, briefly. Henry experiments from time to time. Because, I am guessing, its nice to bring some style to the table occasionally. At least, I think that's his motivation. I don't really know because unschooled kids proceed from their own internal drive. Ry's general handwriting is basically nice across the board in a level way. But sometimes she experiments too.
I'd like to repeat, for any teachers reading this, neither of my children have ever been taught how to read or write. No lessons in penmanship, grammar, structure, shaping letters, nothing. Except when they were about 12 they took a creative writing class and both wrote a short story. The class was roughly 6 contact hours. And this year they are both taking an expository writing class at my behest. Its one of my few requirements for graduation from our homeschool.
My dear spouse just growled, and said F your sister! If she wasn't the founder and curriculum developer and leader for a whole school, it might be less egregious. A font. OMG. Good point. BTW - there are names in your reply. XOXOXO
ReplyDeleteYou can tell I was upset because I slipped into actual names for a moment. Its just that this problem we have in society of bullying little children in the name of academia makes.me.crazy.
ReplyDeletelove you, xo