Saturday, March 31, 2012

 Kid Market was today and they all rocked it. I think it was a sound success. 
 There were excellent signs advertising the work and goods of excellent children.
 Enthusiasm, salesman ship, creativity, and fun abounded. 
 My girl did a great job working her henna booth. She learned a ton, made some cash, and she found out her work is solidly good enough. I think she has a natural talent for henna and festival work.
 There were very earnest young folks working hard all around.
 Gauging the market and learning to price yourself correctly were some of the lessons of the day. And there was an interesting variety of things to buy, barter, and sell. Yay for the kids and their market!

Thursday, March 29, 2012

This little clip is three years old, the children 8 and 9 at the time. They loved this poem and recited it to delight and torture one another. Until I finally made a video. Curiously, I don't think we've heard it since. I'll copy the lyrics here and a bit of history that we neglected to look up at the time:

The origins and lyrics of 'There was a little guinea-pig' like many old nursery rhymes have secret, hidden, meanings and allude to people and events in history. The references in 'There was a little guinea-pig' are believed to refer to the people in the Plantagenet court of King Richard 111 of England (Immortalised by William Shakespeare in the play Richard III.) To understand the meanings of this Nursery Rhyme we need to refer to the famous satirical rhyme by Colyngbourne:

"The Cat, the Rat and Lovell our Dog,
Rule all England under a Hog"

The Cat was Sir Thomas Catesby. The Rat was Sir William Ratcliffe of Ordsall Hall. The Dog was Francis, Lord Lovell ( Lovell's emblem was a talbot, a now-extinct breed of hunting hound). The Hog was Richard III ( his emblem was a white boar). The couplet refers to the fact that this hated trio of men enjoyed enormous power and influence in the reign of the equally disliked King Richard III. William Shakespeare discredited King Richard even further in his famous play. The nursery rhyme 'There was a little guinea-pig' provides an even more obscure reference to these men. For the most comprehensive information on Shakespeare and his Complete Works refer to the following link:
William Shakespeare info

There was a little guinea-pig,
Who, being little, was not big;
He always walked upon his feet,
And never fasted when he eat.

When from a place he run away,
He never at the place did stay;
And while he run, as I am told,
He ne'er stood still for young or old.

He often squeaked, and sometimes violent,
And when he squeaked he ne'er was silent.
Though ne'er instructed by a cat,
He knew a mouse was not a rat.

One day, as I am certified,
He took a whim and fairly died;
And as I am told by men of sense,
He never has been living since.

Wednesday, March 28, 2012

Dear Daughter extracted DNA from cells from the inside of her cheek and showed it to us after dinner. 
HOW IS THAT POSSIBLE?!  SO COOL!
So, why are the cheek cells invisible but the DNA is visible after its extracted?  
THAT IS SO WEIRD!
She wonders if different DNA looks different. Good question. 
AND
She's decided to do a new experiment from the book, Geek Dad, every night. 
About this restlessness the children occasionally display, each in their own way. Thinking about going off to high school, considering curricula, wondering what they lack, wanting more. All of that is right and good. All of it suggests the need to push and grow themselves out of their current nest. Exactly what we expect to see, really. The urge to run and fly. School should give you that--a thirst for more life, more learning.

Monday, March 26, 2012

Our daughter has recently, and off and on, requested more schooling. But I don't think she knows what it is she wants. She does not want to enroll in school. She thinks she wants more teaching from me. But then not with standard curriculum and not with work books. She wants classes but none that don't interest her specifically. (She's already enrolled in every class she wants.) She wants tradition but not math and never rote. I think she wants her life to sound as dynamic when she describes it, as that of her friends. Of course, her life is as dynamic. Each one of these kids are dynamic and unique. Their lives reflect this. But she has no perspective on herself, what she's learning, how to think about herself in comparison.

She reads and blogs, researches and crafts. I explained to a group of school-homeschooling mothers, I never correct her blog. I never mention spelling or grammar. I never suggest or refine content. All I do is observe and offer positive reinforcement. The school-homeschool mothers were stumped. They asked why I don't correct her. I replied that I'm waiting for her to grow up. Every mistake she makes now will be self corrected as she grows. Fully, 99% of them, in any case. 

After all, I never taught her to write. She's had zero writing instruction. None on letter formation, grammar, punctuation, spelling, voice, tone, content, keyboarding---nothing. She writes a lot. She enjoys writing. She writes freely, for fun. Imagine, and all without any sentence diagramming! To her way of thinking, none of this counts as school. 

My son briefly thought he wanted to go to high school and that's fine with us. He is allowed. But he changed his mind. Somehow, though he's gone back and forth, I doubt he'll go. 

So I've been wondering what I want for the children, what else I feel they should be exposed to before they leave home. I used to think it was some huge project. I see now, I was grasping for a way to talk about their education so that it sounded as dynamic (or just a little bit more dynamic) as any other high school kid. How to think and talk about my children in comparison? 

But I've revised my list dramatically. Its down now, simply to math. In the 20 minute car ride to class this morning, I explained to the children I would like them to study math before they leave home. I went off on a full blown commercial for the power and majesty--the Magic--of math. I explained that we didn't invent math, we discover it. Math is a language that defines our physical world, which is pretty cool. I stressed its an art and a tool. I got wound up and went off. No one can deny, its a solid sensible and minimal sort of demand to make. Even the kids can see that. But I was trying to convey some enthusiasm, I spoke of physics and stars and geometry.

They listened respectfully. Then my daughter started laughing and proceeded to spend a few minutes reciting a long passage from "The Bromeliad Trilogy" by Terry Pratchett, about a frog discovering the math of daisies. And there it all was, is, an interdiscipliscious unschooling moment of glory. Quite naturally and spontaneously, unbidden and untested, she demonstrated mastery of our discussion and her reading. Using oral recitation, literary reference, and metaphor, displaying deep comprehension, she enlivened our conversation. From memory, unplanned, as if that's simply who she is now (enlivened, literary, and deep) rather than something she's been schooled to do on a test. 

In fact, before I spoke of math requirements in the car, she was laughing. She explained to me and her brother that sometimes when she's talking, as she's saying a word her brain will try to stop her because she does not know how to spell it. And she wonders if she ought to choose a word she knows how to spell. And then she laughs at herself and uses the word anyway. Did we ever do that, she wondered? Self regulation, the hallmark of unschooling. 

What more do I want for my children? I want them to dance joyously, even my son. And I don't mean that in a bumper-sticker kind of way. I mean it literally. I want to raise children who enjoy dancing at parties. And recently they've started doing just that. I've planned a party for next month to further our study. 

My son has attended a few births, now. He has experienced the tang of emergency and kept a cool level thinking demeanor. Who cares if he's absurdly well read--way more so than me. He dances. He understands the dynamic and drama of birth, knows love is integral to the process. Again, not in a midwifery pamphlet sort of way, but because he's been there and felt the energy. 

Honestly, after buying some math workbooks, my teaching job here is about done. I don't care what else these kids do as long as they remember to say: Yes Ma'am, No Sir, Please, and Thank You. Should I crawl all over an 11 year old's blog post correcting "wich"? No Ma'am. I think I'd better put our collective unschooling energy into a lesson we apparently need: learning to stop comparing ourselves against one another. Of course, comparing is most of what they actually do in school. Its an ingrained lesson I'd rather forget. 

Friday, March 23, 2012

 One of the best things about milking early every morning is being outside early every morning.
 Here is my girl holding Tina in a warm quiet moment.
Little Tina Turner, with a bit of a swaggering expression. And look at that neat small hoof on the ground!

Thursday, March 22, 2012

Today we introduced two new vocabulary words: solidarity and ephemeral.

We will stand in solidarity with all mothers to see that our children and especially our young black men are safe in the streets.

To underscore the lesson, we drove to the gas station and purchased bags of Skittles. Please mail your empty Skittles bags to Police Chief Bill Lee at Sanford Police Station 815 West 13th St Sanford, Fl 32771. For Trayvon Martin, murdered in cold blood and left to die while his killer has gone free despite the overwhelming amount of evidence of his guilt.

I've never eaten a bag of Skittles. It's possibly the foulest candy I've ever tasted; my children love them. We discussed letter writing. But in the end I told them everyone must choose their own actions of civil protest. I told them they would never forget eating these bags of Skittles, that they didn't have to write a letter to send with the empty bag to the Chief of Police in Sanford. I've called the police station in Sanford myself and explained my outrage. I think we've covered the truth, the lesson, and the symbolism.

Candy is ephemeral. Young men are not.

Today our kitten was spayed. And I received my very first cease and desist registered letter from a lawyer. You know what? If you've never received such a letter, perhaps you haven't pushed for the truth hard enough. I am accused of slander and defamation of character. But it ain't slander if its true and, Honey, I'm not ashamed nor afraid.

But I am tired. This has been kind of a big day.