Tell me about...

I found a blog last week that upended my approach to teaching writing and grammar.

The creator had left a comment on another blog I read, so I clicked her name to see what else she had to say. I have woke up eager for "my" computer time every morning to continue reading:

"Wonderfarm" a.k.a. http://patriciazaballos.com/

If you go to her page, click "blog" at the top.

On the sidebar is The Dictation Project. To summarize, all kids are storytellers and writers, but the ability to go from speaking it to writing it is gradual. Also, some people's minds --not just kids' minds-- lock up at a blank page. They can think it; they can speak it, but writing it takes so much time and concentration that the stream of thought dwindles to a trickle. Then it stops.

If you want to experience what *that* feels like --being hamstrung by the page-- try her five minute experiment.

Evolution Demonstrated

Here is a clip about how evolution works. It's simple enough that any child with imagination and working eyesight can understand.

It works for us over-thinking adults, too:

http://www.wimp.com/demonstrateevolution/

Thum-thing different Thursday

Will this be on a test?

I don't test the kids. I might ask a question to see what they picked up after a reading or a video, but there's nothing graded beyond marking a math problem so we can go back and redo it.

Often, something we are studying is referenced--TV shows, articles, etcetera-- and I point it out. For instance, the publisher of the book cited below is "Perseus Publishing" and they know the story of Perseus. At least, they knew it a few weeks ago.

So in the realm of what educators consider testing, I don't test them. The only familial resistance to homeschooling has been the question: how do you know if they've learned anything if you don't test them?

Wordless Wednesday: All you need is snow

Mangled Greek

Approaching a word I don't know how to pronounce, I pull out an arsenal:

I took French and Spanish in high school. In college, I took two years of Italian. I did ten months of yoga training and had to learn the poses by their traditional names, so there's a smattering of Sanskrit.

The kids and I dabbled in Mandarin Chinese last semester (all I remember is the first word we learned).

All this simmers on a base of an American-Midwest accent.  I can't even sound charming or endearing like the British or American Southerners do. They say it their own way. I mispronounce it. My consonants are hard and my vowels are inconsistent. I sound like a square, even when I know how to say the word.

We're studying Ancient Greece now, and there's a nagging sense that I'm getting a lot of words wrong. We  read the Illiad, watched Jim Henson's Greek Storyteller series (ah, that's how to pronounce Eurydice), and have just begun reading the Odyssey.

Two chapters in and the stumbling has begun. Take Nausicaa. Extend the "a" sound a bit at the end, right? The king Alcinous would sound similar to "all sinuous." Then there's Euryalus. It's rare to get stopped up reading aloud, but this one put me into a stutter. I sounded like a car refusing to start:

your-EE
yourEEah
yourAHL
your uh
your uh
your uh...

There's an antidote to freewheeling utterances:

howjsay.com

Type in a word--or a name!--and it says it for you.

It's "naw-SICK-ee-uh" not "NAWS-ick-uuuh." (Nausicaa). It's "ahl-SIN-ohs" not "all-SIN-OO-US" (Alcinous). Euryalus isn't listed. I will have to do my best.

Perhaps affecting a British accent will help.

Assumptions challenged: Darwin and the homeschool debate

February 12th was Charles Darwin's birthday. Someone on Facebook posted it, so I announced it to the household.

"Who's Charles Darwin?" Madelyn asked.

Rob and I took turns trying to convey an accurate yet simple version of his theory and its impact. She looked back and forth between us, curiosity fading into confusion. I jumped into a homeschooling parent's version of "The Batmobile" -- Google and interlibrary loan.

One for The Man on Valentine's Day

This is the man who supports us so I can homeschool and work part-time.

Our personalities captured in a pose.

These lambs aren't silent; also, messes we have made

On the midway point of winter we visited some lambs. This day, called Groundhog's Day (now) was called "Imbolc," meaning "ewe's milk" because the lambs are born around February 2nd. We are fortunate to have friends who are homesteading: raising cows, sheep, a pig or two, several chickens, and growing food and grain to feed the lot. They use draft horses to do field work; they installed a wood-burning cook stove. They are like the Amish but without the religious-, techological-, and cultural isolation.

The New "Book"

I'm loosening my prejudice against "the screen." It began with this article:

The Many Benefits, for Kids, of Playing Video Games 

It's a three-pager, so I'll skip to the parts the grabbed my attention:

Of Mice and (Ancient Greek) Men

We have begun Ancient Greece. I have learned (re-learned?) that the city-states were basically different "countries" but because they all spoke Greek and had similar customs, we group them together as one nation.

We read Wise Guy (Socrates) and What's Your Angle, Pythagoras? A Math Adventure.  

My favorite part of homeschooling is the talking. My kids talk to me as people--not just as my children--more than when we were separate for most of the day. This happens best when one of them is working on something alone with me. With Madelyn, that's usually cooking or doing something artsy; with Nate, it's most apt to happen in the car or when we run.

Free-time follies

This is a sample of a free-time creation (courtesy of Madelyn). She has nested her stuffed toy bat in a basket, strapped her into a baby-doll "carseat" and put a plug-in video game system/joystick in front.

What a day's work looks like

We're descending into the holiday break.

Ancient China and Human Body (2nd unit) ended the week before Thanksgiving. Although the load is a bit lighter, there's enough to occupy us for half a day. To supplement daily work --and to add a useful skill-- the kids began typing practice. As for "what else" we do in a day...

Guest Link--The "S" word

This pulls in more data and experience than I have available (or am willing to hunt for), so here's a response about how kids-who-homeschool are socialized (or not).

Yes, My Grown Homeschooled Children Are Odd — And Yours Will Be Too!

Thanksgiving, Madelyn-style

We're having a light schoolwork week due to the holiday. With all this spare time, Madelyn swung into Thanksgiving early, creating this interpretation inside her Barbie play tent:

Note the chess pieces in the middle--they are the salt and pepper. The poker chips are brussel sprouts and the limp balloons are potato skins.

For the meat, she has chosen from the endangered species menu: dolphin and tiger, as well as a pink Easter chick. (She said it was because a dolphin resembles a turkey leg).

Today is our anniversary.

Madelyn's last visit to school was a year ago, on the Monday before Thanksgiving.
Our first month was pretty much a free-for-all. In January, she began math one year back--1st grade-- and she is now five math assignments away from finishing 2nd grade. That's two years of math in eleven months. She will be starting 3rd grade and finished with that before her "4th grade year" begins next fall.

History was all hands-on this week.

There's a DVD/game rental store that offers exercise DVDs for free, so I picked up Tai Chi for Beginners. We did a twenty minute sequence, and the kids liked it. Nate tends to do everything with more effort than is required, so I reminded him every few minutes to "move like you're in warm honey, not like you're in drying cement. It's not supposed to hurt."

Despite his exaggerated effort, he pronounced Tai Chi "fun." Madelyn liked it a lot too, but she said her legs were "tired" and she sat down a few times. I don't understand how a girl who runs after the dog--at top speed--for 20 minutes in the park can feel tired after some gentle swaying. Perhaps a segment on physics or behavioral psychology will explain that mystery.

Two days later we did history again, revisiting a topic from last week: Chinese writing (pictograms). I have watercolor supplies--some tapered brushes and black watercolor paint. We used thick drawing paper (not construction paper). I printed out a tutorial and they went through several sheets of paper. Nate said, "This is the most fun history ever!" (He's enthusiastic, at least).

Science was partially interactive, too. We did a digestion experiment, using a glass jar as the "stomach." The directions called for rubber gloves and goggles. Each child gathered half the ingredients for the project. I told them to wear their glasses (the ones prescribed but never worn because they "don't need them."). Nate came out with an alternative:

Ready for the lab in swim goggles and cleaning gloves

The experiment was underwhelming. It was written for a classroom, so the directions took two pages (every move described) and it was condescending. The conversation was prescribed. There's one bit about asking the class what they ate for lunch and instructions to praise the kids who name vegetables. Ew. Come on. My kids just know--by now--that we eat that way.

The experiment is just putting milk in a jar, adding some vinegar (as if one would eat salad dressing), then adding baking soda (were one to eat a biscuit with the salad).

Ooooo. Bubbles.

Then we were to add liquid antacid, which we didn't have. I used a mortar and pestle to grind up some tablets, then added water. THAT was something the kids hadn't seen before. Once we added the antacid, the fizzing gradually subsided (as it would anyway with that tiny amount of vinegar and baking soda).

We wore glasses and gloves for this? Absurd. Oh well. It made for easy science. Now I know to read ahead before getting excited about wearing safety gear.

My daughter and bats

My daughter loves bats.

She bought herself a plush bat a couple years ago and named her Black Susan. When we adopted a dog who assumed that anything on the floor was "game" for chewing, Black Susan lost a fang and got a hole torn in her head.

I was in Minnesota when this happened. Madelyn took it well, but she did let me know over the phone:

"Black Susan needs you to fix her, Mom."
"Leave her by my bedside, and I'll fix her when I get home."

Adventures in writing

Our writing practice is the most flexible subject so far.

One day they recorded sensory observations. It seems the dog "tastes" like "the couch." Based on that, I guess there's some scientific experimentation, too.

Another favorite: socks "smell like sour milk."