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August 31, 2005
The Early Bird Catches the Caterpillar
I was up a little early this morning (yesterday morning) (a feat which will not be duplicated this morning). It was a beautiful morning, and a very comfortable temperature; the perfect time to visit my neglected garden.
Half of this garden was planted for one purpose: to attract caterpillars that we could watch. Specifically, black swallowtail caterpillars, because I know they're plentiful in the area and I know what they like to eat. I planted half a garden box with lantana, purple coneflower, dill, and lots and lots of parsley.
Nothing. Not an egg. Not a caterpillar.
So imagine my delight this morning when I came across two huge, fat ones! We grabbed a couple of glass jars and stuck one in each, along with a nice stick for each, and bunches of parsley. Then we sat back to ... watch them poop.
I forget how much caterpillars do that.
Or how much it fascinates the kids.
I didn't put lids on the jar, because I didn't remember that caterpillars can actually climb up glass. One's stick was longer than the jar, so over that jar I fit a piece of paper around the stick. Both made their escape attempts at the same time, in an eerily coordinated manner, the one pushing his way right past the paper cover. We gathered them up before the cats could find them and dashed their hopes of regaining freedom by plopping the lids on the jars. I had to shorten the one stick, so I very carefully and gently broke the end off.
The caterpillar was on the stick at the time, which is why I was being careful.
Sometimes when you're being very careful, the bottom half of the stick rebounds anyway.
Caterpillars are tenacious, but they don't hold on when their end of the stick rebounds. That thing flew halfway across the kitchen. It was impressive. I expected to find a little pile of smashed caterpillar goo on the kitchen floor, but no - it was alive! These things are tough!
They're back in their jars now, with lids. The one that took his maiden flight sans wings has been holding on to his stick and moving his head all around. I hope this means he's thinking of making his chrysalis, and not that he's in his death throes from internal injuries.
The other caterpillar is sitting on a parsley stalk, pooping.
The batteries in the camera are recharging. I'll take pictures of them in the morning, if they're still alive.
This is what they look like. And when you scare them or tick them off, the caterpillars stick a big orange tongue out at you.
Posted by lynx at 1:38 AM | Comments (3) | TrackBack
August 30, 2005
Quick Links
This is what I want for Christmas, or my birthday. I understand you can get it for less at Sam's. I understand that at Sam's, it also includes the most recent Hornblower movies.
And this is my favorite place in New Orleans. I hope it's okay. I want to go back there someday. I wanted to have my wedding reception there (after a ceremony here), but a New Orleans wedding wasn't really practical at the time.
Posted by lynx at 12:06 AM | Comments (2) | TrackBack
August 29, 2005
Er ... bite me!
I tried to figure out the Latin equivalent for "bite me." I haven't worked out commands yet, so I don't know the grammar. I did find out that the word for "bite" is "ictus." Now, that's a noun, but I thought it might be useful in that it also means "stroke, bolt, thrust and blow."
Ahem.
Now, after all that, I feel I must confess that we didn't do Latin today. Nope. We've been hitting the books hard for six weeks solid, not missing a day, and it's time for a break. We did do math, but no, absolutely no Latin.
We did take another stab at Classical Writing. Connor's retelling of "The Fox and The Grapes" was exactly 26 words long, not counting the moral.
Well, at least he's succinct.
They practiced piano, and read more Texas history. That was it for today. We played with friends at McDonald's (that's where little Texan suburban kids go to play in the summer). We went by the library, but used the outside book drop and did not go in the library, as it was 5:00 by that point and it's just never a good idea to take tired, hungry kids into the library ...
Mom will do Latin tomorrow, even if the kiddos don't. I have a self-imposed deadline to finish Unit 7 in Henle by Sept. 4. Tomorrow is August 30, and I have 26 translation problems, a review and a reading left.
By the way, the Latin Classical Ed Yahoo group might be putting together a wiki, and I hope to put up some web pages with secular classical ed resources, and more information on "how we do this." Stay tuned, because I'm not making any promises as to when anything will happen!
Posted by lynx at 11:29 PM | Comments (3) | TrackBack
August 28, 2005
For. Crying. Out. Loud.
Hello, my name is Stephanie and I'm attempting to give my kids a classical education.
The images that come into people's heads with the term "classical education" are apparently pretty bizarre.
And if I say that we do a Latin-based classical education, well, those images are apparently even more bizarre. (Funny eh? Because "classical education" today does not necessarily mean that there's any Latin involved, ever. So you have to add the qualifier.)
It's like people think I chain my kids up in the dining room and make them chant declensions all day long. They worry about how my kids are going to be able to cope in the wide world. They worry that their education will be one-sided. They worry about exposure to art, music, history, literature.
And I look at them like they have six eyes and four heads.
Ahem. Look, folks. I teach the kids Latin. Latin and math are our two most important subjects. Latin and math take up about an hour and a half of our day, leaving the rest of the day to, I don't know ... read, write, study history, learn about geography, do science experiments, go to museums, listen to music, practice music lessons, read, play, learn to spell ...
What are we missing here, exactly?
It's funny how one little subject can get people so riled up. If I said that I made Spanish a focus of our homeschool, I think the reactions would be greatly different.
I also seem to see a trend amongst the folks who are concerned about my kids' one-sided education, in that they seem to think that my kids are going to be lacking in a subject if I don't teach it formally and explicitly. Maybe I won't teach modern world history this year as a formal subject. Will my kids be one-sided and lacking? Did you know that my 9 year old has already read Story of the World 4 on his own, for fun? Modern children's literature? Well, they read every day, and we read to them ... so ... ?
And on and on, of course, because kids learn so much more than we teach them. One of the greatest mistakes we can make is to assume that only learning done in a class or a structured program "counts." But that's another rant for another day.
Posted by lynx at 2:25 PM | Comments (13) | TrackBack
August 24, 2005
Better Days
The Dark Mark lifted. Better days have returned to our home and school.
Not great, but better. This seems to have been a rough transition for the boys.
Our first six weeks of school is drawing to a close, and we've met about half of my original goals. That's better than it sounds; some of the goals changed mid-stream. We didn't finish our Right Start book, but we bounded ahead in Singapore. We didn't do science (not in any kind of formal way, but we do informal science every day). We fizzled out with Writing Strands. However, we also read books that weren't on my radar six weeks ago. And we're ahead in Latin, by two chapters for each boy! We've also started a formal geography program, which again was not on my radar, but which has been a great deal of fun so far.
I had originally planned for us to do a somewhat formal unit on Texas history. This has morphed into a great deal of reading, and reenacting the Alamo.
We're reading through the Little House books. They love these. I didn't think they would, but they do. They love them. They beg for more. They ask questions. They get completely involved in the story. Really, it's more than I ever hoped for. Sharing these books, which mean so much to me, with my boys who love them is the most incredible gift.
Next we're heading into the Civil War. What do you think are my odds of getting my boys to sit through "Gone With the Wind?"
Posted by lynx at 11:45 PM | Comments (6) | TrackBack
August 23, 2005
You know you've been reaading too much O'Brian when ...
You fit two chickens into the crock pot and realize that you're thinking of the pot as being double shotted.
Posted by lynx at 12:05 AM | Comments (2) | TrackBack
August 22, 2005
Need a laugh?
Think your kids have embarrassed you? try this!
HT to Sharon
Posted by lynx at 11:33 PM | Comments (2) | TrackBack
Remember the Alamo?
Here's the kids' version. Inaccurate, yes, but you can tell they had fun. It's now in pieces in our homeschooling cabinet, having met with an extroardinarily destructive battle seconds after the pictures.
Please ignore the modern soliders :)
Posted by lynx at 11:02 PM | Comments (3) | TrackBack
What's that, up in the sky?
No, it's not the Dark Mark. It's just the skull and crossbones floating over my house.
It was a bad, bad day. See, I'm using past tense here, to pretend that the day is over.
There is an obvious reason for the bad, bad day: several of my children utterly failed to go to sleep at a decent hour last night. Now, I know that lack of sleep is going to make the kids grumpy, but for Heaven's sake!
It's 3:30, and we just finished our "must" do subjects, math and Latin. Just two little tiny subjects, things we usually have finished by 10 or 10:30 am. Have we read aloud today? Oh, no. Have we gotten to do anything fun? Oh, no. Connor did write the paragraph I assigned him, which was breathtaking in its complete lack of attention to anything. We'll try again tomorrow. After all, tomorrow is another day.
I ordered pizza because I was too angry and frazzled to cook. I ate 10 hot wings. That ought to set the ol' diet in its place, eh?
I so wish I could send them outside, but the current heat index is 102. Who wants to go outside? Who can blame them?
Maybe tonight we can all go to sleep by 5. That would be fine.
Jeff is on an out-of-town job again as well, so it's just me and the kiddos.
I'm thinking movies and chocolate.
Posted by lynx at 3:31 PM | Comments (7) | TrackBack
August 21, 2005
Who knew marketing research could be so filling?
Yesterday something happened that rarely happens in our house. We had an entire day free. An entire day. Free. But by "free" I mean that not only did we not have any obligations, we had no friends available to see, it was too hot to do anything outside, and we didn't feel like going to a museum.
On the other hand, if we just stayed home and hung out, Mom would go a bit nuts by about 4 pm.
So I decided, because Sarah made me, that my kids simply must have this toy. Not only must they have it, but they must have it that very day so that we could spend a blissful afternoon creating together. I called every toy store and educational supply store in the area. No one had it.
Finally, there was one store that did not answer its phone. Well, that's not a "no," right? Off we went! Off to the ... mall. Ugh. And a very crowded mall at that. Undaunted, small children firmly in hand, we plowed through the mass of shoppers to the place where I remembered the toy store being.
It wasn't there. Ah, so that's why they didn't answer the phone.
We kept walking until we came to the bookstore. We had train sharing issues in the bookstore, though, and repaired to the cafe instead where we paid good money for terrible cookies and coffee that did not match my order. We were also treated to a stunning lack of understanding of the meaning of "customer service." Still, the sugar and caffeine did their work, and we ventured out into the current again.
Somewhere along the way I accidentally made eye contact with the marketing research vulture. Could I spare some time? I gestured to all the children and apologized. Really, I'd love to, but you see ...
It turns out she was looking for a mother about my age to watch a commercial for the new Zorro movie. And kids about their age to watch a commercial for Harry Potter. Ah. And then she promised us free food. Antonio Banderas and free food. Why the heck not? So the kids got a lesson in marketing research. They got to watch the Harry Potter commercial, Connor got to watch the Zorro commercial, and I, somehow, got shunted off to watch a commercial for a horror movie. Unfair! Still, it was fun to skew their results:
Researcher: "How many movies have you seen in the theater in the past six months?"
Me: "... Er ... one?"
Researcher: "How likely are you to go see this movie in the theater?"
Me: "Not if you ripped my fingernails out."
Researcher: "Do you like or dislike the stars of this movie?"
Me: "These are the stars? I've never heard of these people before."
For that, they handed us coupons for free food at Chick-Fil-A. Yay, dinner! Woo-hoo!
As we left, I got the question: "Are all these kids yours?"
I should have, but did not, answer: "What? I heard that you needed research subjects, so I just grabbed these out of the the mall ... who are you kids, anyway?"
Posted by lynx at 9:21 AM | Comments (2) | TrackBack
August 18, 2005
I'm sorry, you're just not right for our fan, Stephanie.
So far I have refrained from posting about "Rock Star: INXS," but I must speak.
WHY in the name of all that's holy do people keep voting for JD? Why? WHY? STOP IT! He has talent, yes, but his performances are inconsistent. Plus he's an opportunistic jerk. Other performers are consistently outperforming him, as well as refraining from stabbing each other in the back.
I think he must have found a way to set up a bot to vote for him ... or he's got a very loyal family.
Posted by lynx at 10:08 AM | Comments (2) | TrackBack
August 16, 2005
Boring School
That's what I feel our school is like after reading about Sarah's ultra-creative school days. In my defense, I have twice as many kids. After the fourth one was born, I had to give up creativity for Lent.
We are in a bit of a rut, but the rut shall stay. Sarah is cool. I am managing.
This is our fourth - no, fifth! - "official" week of school. It's been a little off kilter because Daddy has been home almost the entire time. School goes better when Daddy is not home. On the other hand, my house is cleaner because Daddy does chores and plays with little ones while we have school. So you see, I'm really not complaining. It's fine. It's just different.
We have gotten Latin and math done every day, and that is officially enough. It will be fun, though, when we get back into our groove and add in the other things we've planned.
Connor has already finished reading the history book we're using this year. So ... er ... there's history. Music lessons start on Thursday. In September the boys will begin a real, live PE class with other homeschooled kids. I've lost the number for the Scouts lady, but as soon as I find that, they'll start Scouts. Wow. We haven't been this busy in ... ever? It will be interesting to see how it goes. I am hoping the outside commitments will make it easier for us to focus on tasks and be more organized when we're home.
We finished reading "Little House on the Prairie," which the boys enjoyed immensely. I didn't think they would, and I am thrilled that they did. I don't know whether I will read "Farmer Boy" next, or skip to "On the Banks of Plum Creek" and let Connor read "Farmer Boy" on his own. I'd also like to read them a history of Texas. However we're still reading Greek myths, "Famous Men of Rome" and have started in on "Minn of the Mississippi." Whew.
Connor is at loose ends in reading. It's time to go find him some new books. We can't find "Tanglewood Tales" and I have a sneaking suspicion that the misplacement isn't accidental. Aidan is reading "Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets."
The one area I feel we're neglecting is writing. Must work on that. Must also get more coffee and hit that math and Latin.
Posted by lynx at 6:22 PM | Comments (4) | TrackBack
August 15, 2005
I Am So Jealous
Found this link at Becky's site: up in Canada, they get Shakespeare and the Barenaked Ladies, all in one package.
What else do you need?
Posted by lynx at 8:46 AM | Comments (3) | TrackBack
August 12, 2005
Nock's Theory of Education in the United States, Part II
(You can find Part I here.)
So, where were we?
Ah, yes. We thought we were building our system of education on sound, noble, ideals, but in fact we built them on flawed popular misconceptions of those ideals.
We looked at two of those ideals, equality and democracy. The third was that a literate populace is the best thing to ensure a free society. Here, Nock argues that the theory itself is unsound: just because a person can read doesn't mean that he understands what he is reading. A literate, but uneducated, citizenry finds itself at the mercy of propagandists, able to take in information but unable to think about it and act appropriately, or even to discern between good material and bad. So it was a nice idea, Mr. Jefferson, but it doesn't tend to work out in practice.
And so Nock concludes that there's not necessarily anything wrong with our system of education. In fact, it works very well when you look at what it is truly based on, rather than what we think it is based on. It attempts to educate every child in the same way, assuming each one is educable to the same level (and since each is not, it must educate to the level of the least educable). It attempts to allocate the same resources and advantages to every school, frowning when one school has more advantages than another.
But we know that there is something wrong with our system of education. What can we do to fix it?
According to Nock, nothing. Not only is there nothing we can successfully do, but in fact we will not do anything. We will not do anything because the changes that would have to be made would necessarily cause us to admit that 1) not all children are educable to the same level, and 2) democracy does not mean that no one should have an education that everyone does not have:
If we let go of the equalitarian idea in our theory, the democratic idea would disappear with it; for if all persons are not educable, then some persons may pretend to a distinction to which all others may not pretend, whereby education becomes a kind of class-prerogative; and this is undemocratic.
We're not, as a society, going to do that. We will not choose to do so. We would far rather choose to keep our flawed, unworkable system of education.
We're stuck.
Ever since then we've been throwing "solution" after "solution" at the problem, while leaving the real core of the problem untouched. This allows us to feel that we are doing something, while we in fact mean to do nothing.
But although we haven't addressed the problem, we have found a way to ease our situation somewhat. We have made one change that not only brings our actual practice more in line with our flawed foundations, but does away with that tricky problem of educable folks. It's obvious that not everyone is educable; however, everyone is trainable. Everyone can be trained to do something. So, all we need to do ... all we did ... is to substitue "training" for "education." We have replaced formative knowledge with instrumental knowledge.
Nock explains that the purpose of education used to be the acquisition of formative knowledge:
The intention was, moreover – and this is most important – that the character of this progress through the schools and the undergraduate college, right up to the doors of the university or technical school, should be purely disciplinary. The curricula of the primary and secondary school and of the college should be fixed, invariable, the same for all participants. There should be no elective studies. The student took what was deemed best for him, or left the place; he had no choice.
The knowledge gained in this way did two things: it trained the mind in a certain way, and it provided the student with the wisdom of centuries of thought and experience. This is formative knowledge. A mind filled with formative knowledge is well-equipped to turn to any occupation. Once through this course of study, the student might go on to higher education, or to a training academy, any number of things. For those who could get through it, this formative knowledge bred the well-educated person.
But in our equalitarian, democratic soceity, the important thing is that all people be educated. All people are not educable to the same degree, therefore all people cannot get through the course of study, the mental discipline, that imparts formative knowledge. "Traditionally," Nock says,
the undergraduate college put the whole burden of education on the student. The curriculum was fixed, he might take it or leave it; but if he wished to proceed bachelor of arts, he had to complete it satisfactorily. Moreover, he had to complete it pretty well on his own; there was no pressure of any kind upon an instructor to get him through it, or to assume any responsibility whatever for his progress, or to supply any adventitious interest in his pursuits.
Can you imagine a modern-day university employing such tactics? No, our goal is to get as many students literate and degreed as possible. And so we had to devise new tactics. We shifted the burden of education onto the teacher and the institution. We streched the realm of the undergraduate college backwards into the secondary school, to remediate college students who were not ready for college work. We began to loosen up the traditional curriculum, to offer electives and choices. And in a surprisingly short time, the typical education of an American college student did not at all resemble the typical education of a European college student. Our high schools and colleges were no longer imparting formative knowledge, because there was no longer any way they could.
So what were they doing?
In the course of this procedure there came to pass the complete obliteration of a most important distinction which several writers have of late tried to revive, myself among them … the distinction between training and education.…We are quite free to say that the vast majority of mankind cannot possibly be educated. They can, however, be trained; anybody can be trained. Practically any kind of mentality is capable of making some kind of response to some kind of training; and here was the salvation of our system’s theory. If all hands would simply agree to call training education to regard a trained person as an educated person and a training-school as an educational institution, we need not trouble ourselves about our theory; it was safe. Since everybody is trainable, the equalitarian side of our theory was safe. Since training in anything for anybody is a mere matter of money, equipment and specific instruction the democratic side of our theory is safe. Since a trained citizenry is equivalent to an educated citizenry, the patriotic aspect of our theory might have as much made of it as ever. Since, finally, opportunities for every conceivable kind of training might become abundant and cheap, in innumerable cases to be enjoyed for nothing, or nearly nothing, the parental sentiment in behalf of posterity was satisfied.
We threw over formative knowledge for instrumental knowledge. Instrumental knowledge is practical knowledge. It trains us to get a job. It trains us to perform certain tasks, and to function in certain areas. In a world where instrumental knowledge is prized, the classics have virtually no place. They are not useful. The knowledge base of the educated man of old has become impractical, luxurious.
If we really look at it, our system of education does a pretty fine job of training students in instrumental knowledge. It's doing exactly what we want it to do. All that's lacking, according to Nock, is clear thinking about the problem. We must simply let go of this idea that we're trying to give our students an education, and admit that our actual goal is to train them. We must let go of the idea that our colleges and universities function as the colleges and universities of the Old World. We should admit that they are institutes and academies, rather than universities. We should stop pretending to be something we're not, and run with what we've got.
Nock states that he doesn't believe American education will ever change. He doesn't believe we will ever recover an education that partakes of the Great Tradition (the classic authors and classic works). That's quite a depressing concept, but I'm afraid he's right.
Posted by lynx at 12:19 AM | Comments (1) | TrackBack
August 11, 2005
Here's a child destined for coffee
Setting the scene: Yesterday we had friends over. This morning we discovered a few things they'd left behind. And by the way, Griffin is not a morning person. That combination brought us this morning's conversation:
Griffin: Mom, how come when Connor and Aidan's friends come over, they always leave stuff?
Me: Honey, you know, they're not just Connor and Aidan's friends. They're you're friends, too.
Griffin: No, they're not.
Me: What about G3 (the one his age)? What about G4? What about their mommy? Don't you like them?
Griffin: (burying his head into me) Mom ... I just don't like other people!
Poor kid. I so agree with him, before the first cup ... or three.
Posted by lynx at 9:42 AM | Comments (4) | TrackBack
August 10, 2005
Grumble
Griffin is happy. He's playing. But, he says, there's something in his throat that he doesn't want there.
So yes, based on our recent experience, that alone led us to take him to the doctor. And yes, you guessed it, he has strep.
I think we should all wear big shirts with a biohazard warning sign on them. And add antibiotics to our drinking supply for the next six months.
Y'all will understand this, right? Having this many kids is an incredible joy and blessing. And having this many kids bites.
Posted by lynx at 12:42 PM | Comments (6) | TrackBack
August 6, 2005
Love and Mud
"What's that movie about, Mom?" asked my three year old as we walked out of the library.
"This movie?" I asked. "This movie is about two people who fall in love." I held up yet another copy of "Much Ado About Nothing," the third in my attempt to get the version with Robert Lindsay playing Benedick.
"They fall in mud?" my son asked incredulously.
"No, honey, they fall in love."
"Ohhhh," he nodded, understanding. "They fall in love." He thought for a moment and then added, hopefully, "And mud?"
Obviously, the mud bit is the more interesting bit to the mind of the three-year-old male. He's going to be so disappointed in Shakespeare, at least until those hormones kick in.
Posted by lynx at 11:44 PM | Comments (4) | TrackBack
Saturday Night
... No one is high, but everyone is dry (so far).
I hope to have my next post on "The Theory of Education in the United States" up tomorrow. We've all been sick here, though, so we'll see how the day goes. I certainly don't think church will happen tomorrow.
Yesterday we polished off our math and Latin, and then paid homage to the god of consumerism. That is some store. Someday, I hope to give them a great deal of our money. We need bookcases. Lots of bookcases. When we first moved in here we invested in Skandia shelving from The Container Store. It's nice stuff, but my bookshelves have neither backs nor sides. And that was fine, before kids. Now the books are constantly pushed out the back, or falling off the sides, and it drives me up the wall. Ikea has some nice, affordable options, for one day when we're not between contracts and behind huge amounts of dental work.
In the meantime we just go to gawk and eat meatballs.
Posted by lynx at 11:23 PM | Comments (3) | TrackBack
August 2, 2005
Unitarians Revisited
Or yes, I did go back to church.
I was happier with it this time. Maybe I was more used to the singing this time, and to the one pastor I find irritating. This week's sermon was on Islam. I was a little apprehensive going in, wondering how they would handle it. They did a very nice job. They discussed the story of Mohammed, and human responses to being called by God. They discussed the Five Pillars of Islam, and how their principles can be important in any religion. They were also not afraid to link Islamic fundamentalism with terrorism.
All in all, they were very knowledgable and even-handed. I was also impressed in how they managed to make few, if any, value judgments about the religion as a whole. They simply presented it, noted what we can learn from it, noted the pitfalls of fundamentalism, and left it to us.
I like that.
We didn't make it to their Sunday school, again. It starts at 9:30 and, well, you know. Maybe next week.
I should note that the people I've met there have been very, very nice. They remember my name, and go out of their way to welcome me when they notice a new face.
Speaking of religion ... today is Lughnassadh, the Feast of Lugh; or Lammas, the feast of grain and the first harvest, however you'd like to look at it. Today we bake bread and give thanks for grain in all its forms (mmmm, beer). It's the end of the Celtic summer, but of course that's a joke in Texas. We have six weeks of 100 degree heat to go. Still, from here on out we'll notice that the days are getting shorter. The high point of summer has passed. This is the time to reap what we have sown, and to see how that harvest can be useful to others.
We're going to bake a couple of different kinds of bread and make a big pot of minestrone with basil, parsley, tomatoes, oregano and rosemary from the garden. Mmmmm. Then we'll probably take a walk (in the relative cool of the evening) to pretend we're enjoying the last of summer. Then Mom and Dad will round out the evening by watching Rock Star: INXS and hoping that JD has another terrible performance. (That last bit doesn't have anything to do with the festival, it's just what's going to happen. )
Time for math!
Posted by lynx at 8:32 AM | Comments (4) | TrackBack