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I'm reading in Parenting for a Peaceful World about Shame at the moment, and how crippling it can be. I'm not sure how I feel about all that is implied. I don't know that I carry a big burden of shame, and I guess in a funny sort of a way- I always assumed it was probably a good thing to feel embarrassed and remorseful when you've stuffed up.
It won;t come as a big surprise though to learn I don't much care for my children to be weighed down by such an emotion.
Robin Grille talks about how the predominant parenting mode of today )and the last 50 years or so) is "Socialising Mode", where parents no longer beat their children or treat them with physical cruelty...but they still attempt to control their behaviours, primarily through manipulation- one tool of which is shaming. It makes for very interesting reading, and I can see that the next mode, the "Helping" mode, is vastly different than it's predecessor.
It happened right after reading a few paragraphs of this particular chapter, that I had a little scene with Tombliboo (nearly 3). He asked for a drink in the lounge. I said no because we don;t have sugary drinks in the lounge, only water, and only water in bottles actually. This is because we are renting a fully-furnished place, and I want to care for the landlady's things as well as possible. I know how easy it is to spill a drink, with no intention whatsoever of doing so.
However, Tombliboo persisted, and eventually I agreed. The inevitable occurred, and what did my little boy do? He ran to get a cloth. He said, "I spilled the drink Mama. I just clean it up, I sorry to spill it- it all clean now." He was smiling, I snuggled him and finished the job. It was no big disaster (it had tipped on the lino, thank goodness), but I saw in that moment that he was not ashamed. He was sorry he had made a mess, he probably (or possibly?) gleaned that I had been right in what I had said...but mostly, he knew it needed cleaning, and he did it as well as he could. There was no shame. He didn't feel any, because I didn't make him feel it. There was no shame necessary, in fact.
Later in the day, he was cross that we were all playing a game he can't play (he attempts it, but it is beyond him atm). He picked up some cards, and yelled. "I gonna put these cards in da freezer! I gonna put dem in da rubbish! I gonna throw these cards everywhere!" I was a bit distracted with the game ,and didn't respond as quickly as I might have, but at that point, said, "I can see you are feeling very cross."
It was too late to stop him throwing the cards, but he *immediately* said, "Sorry Mama", and came for a cuddle. I cuddled him, and said, "I would feel much happier if you picked those cards up for Mama", and he did. No fuss whatsoever. I thanked him for his help, and we had a nice long snuggle.
Tombliboo is not as reasonable as J-Man and Princess were at his age. He has always struck me as being quite different, in that he wants what he wants (who doesn't?) but he won't be diverted from it. I think I am finally seeing that while he is not always obliging, he is getting there. But he is not doing so out of fear or duty, but out of respect and love for me- at least that's what I reckon :0)
Monday, September 14, 2009
Thursday, September 3, 2009
School
School
I always knew home was better than school. It's just logical that a child will fare better in a family than in a room of 30 kids the same age. I remember when we first looked in to homeschooling for J-Man (he was 4.5 yrs at the time). I was told that if oen wanted to follow the NZ curriculum (which from all I had heard, I certainly did not), it woudl take a homeschooling family 2 hours a week.
I was sure they must mean 2 hours a day, which was still astonishing given tghat chidlren are at school for 6 horus a day. But no, it was actually 2 hours a week (instead of 30) that was required to get through the curriculum.
Ayyway, so I have always known my children were learning stuff. Recently I had someone suggest to me that J-Man is opposed to learning, that he doesn't like to learn, and somehow you would need to trick him or cajole him in to it. I didn't know what to say at the time, ebcause it did look just at that moment like it might be the case.
But upon reflection, I realised that J-Man loves to learn (as do all humans), he simply doesn't like to be taught, and he doesn't like learning to be boring...who does? He has always been like that, and here's the thing...learning is NOT boring when you are learning what interests you. It's fascinating. If you are used to a life of natural learning, learning what is important to you- of course you would find staged learning inferior. You may even come across as someone who despises learning.
When J-Man was 4, and nearly a fluent reader, I asked him one day, "How would you spell 'computer'?" He roleld his eyes at me, and said, "Mum! You're trying to teach me again and you know it doesn't work!" Yes, 4 years old...I have always known that he prefers to learn in his own way and without interference, but I must have forgotten briefly.
Anywya, so through the years, I didn't doubt that my chidlren were learning. I wodnered if they were learning what they would in school- but not in a worryign sort of a way, just curious. Actually, I suspected their learning was far broader. There's a quote I read once, which I won't be able to find now we're on dial-up...but it was fro ma Summerhill Graduate, and it was saying somethign like, "We did a bit of everything, and collected puzzle pieces over the years, and then suddenly it all came together, all the pieeces fit". It was as if to say, that while the learning wasn't metered out in even doses, adn they didn't know *what* they were learning or how it related to the whole, or even if it was going to add up...somehow it did.
I think my children's learning looks like a muddle probably from the outside. It is a little bit here and there, adn then nothing for a long time, and then a big lot of something seemingly unimportant (or certainly not from the curricum)...but it is making connections all over the place.
J-Man drew a picture yesterday of The Unschooler's Brain...this is my son who has drawn only a handful of times since he was 6. Suddenly he likes to draw, and he is quite good at it actually.
But to look at this picture, it really was a brain shaped scribble. But when you looked closer, you saw that it was firign all over the place. It wasn't ordered, it was a scramble. If you looked closely you coudl see puzzle pieces. He explained the drawing at length, and I thought, "Here is a boy who really understands how his mind works."
OK, so I'm an unschooling convert, lol, nothing new about that...but here's the thing. I sometimes doubted, well I doubted a lot every so often, but I tried not to project that on to my children. I doubted that they were learning as much as they could be. I doubted that school kids were learning little to nothign in 6 hours a day 5 days a week. It didn't bother me, or wish a different childhood for my babies...after all, even if they don't learn as much or as well as a child in shcool- I still think unschooling is superior. There is more to life than letters and numbers. Do I wish for them to be surrounded by clever peopel, or by kind? I want them to grow up free, to grow up doign the thigns they love, and no, I am not concerned that the ywon;t be abel to handle "the real world", where there are jobs and people you don't like.
I'm rambling...so, they went to school. And, well, I have to admit I was astonished by how little they did! I was. I thoguth they woudl do sooo much, and certainly so much more than at home. But it was not the case. OK, so J-Man only went for 3 days, and yes- it wa a fairly low-standard school...but still, I knwo now that our "doing nothing" days, still involve more learning than a day in school.
As far as written work goes, in a full day of school...J-Man brought hom a maths book with the following written.
2+2=2x2
2+2+2=2x3
2+2+2+2=2x4 and so on up to 12x2
The next day he did 3x, adn the last day 4x.
I felt certain they woudl just give him busy work, since they would have no idea of what level he was functioning at. But no, he assured me this was what the whole class was doing.
He typed a story on the computer, actually more of a short account of his weekend.
He wrote a line of e's, and a few Maori words. He probably wrote less than the other children, because his writing is laborious.
They sang songs (all in Maori), and they listened to children giving mini-speeches in Maori. They walked to the library (which apprently took a very long time, by the time everyoen was ready, and in a straight line). They chose books there, though J-Man already had his own book.
Then, they went back to class for "SSR", Sustained Silent Reading. He found that terribly frustrating, because he was excited about the possibility of reading a little more of his book, but unable to because of the constant interruptions. The other children apaprently wanted to know if he could *actually* read the book (he was incredulous at this point, because he was already up to pg 200), and they also asked him to spell daft little words.
They sang more songs, in conjunction with the junior class. A girl told on a boy (of 10 or 12) who was playing with a matchbox car when he was supposed to be listening. The teacher snatched it off him, and he had a tantrum "like a two year old". This morphed in to a gigantic fuss, whereupon the boy picked up chairs and threw them.
That was about it. Every day was much the same (minus the theatrics of the first, but with a few scrimmages thrown in).
I asked what else they had done, and ther ewas nothing. I can't see how 6 hours can be filled up with this little...and this is a class of 9 chidlren. How much less would eb done in a class of 30 (or 36, as was the case in some schools in Auckland)?
So, Kiwi_Mama and others who are wondering...whatever you do at home, be it big or small, it is most likely more than your child would be doing at school. It makes me feel sorry for school children in general, and the child I was as well. What might I have accomplished had I not been in school for 30 horus a week, 40 or so weeks in a year, 11 loooong years?
I always knew home was better than school. It's just logical that a child will fare better in a family than in a room of 30 kids the same age. I remember when we first looked in to homeschooling for J-Man (he was 4.5 yrs at the time). I was told that if oen wanted to follow the NZ curriculum (which from all I had heard, I certainly did not), it woudl take a homeschooling family 2 hours a week.
I was sure they must mean 2 hours a day, which was still astonishing given tghat chidlren are at school for 6 horus a day. But no, it was actually 2 hours a week (instead of 30) that was required to get through the curriculum.
Ayyway, so I have always known my children were learning stuff. Recently I had someone suggest to me that J-Man is opposed to learning, that he doesn't like to learn, and somehow you would need to trick him or cajole him in to it. I didn't know what to say at the time, ebcause it did look just at that moment like it might be the case.
But upon reflection, I realised that J-Man loves to learn (as do all humans), he simply doesn't like to be taught, and he doesn't like learning to be boring...who does? He has always been like that, and here's the thing...learning is NOT boring when you are learning what interests you. It's fascinating. If you are used to a life of natural learning, learning what is important to you- of course you would find staged learning inferior. You may even come across as someone who despises learning.
When J-Man was 4, and nearly a fluent reader, I asked him one day, "How would you spell 'computer'?" He roleld his eyes at me, and said, "Mum! You're trying to teach me again and you know it doesn't work!" Yes, 4 years old...I have always known that he prefers to learn in his own way and without interference, but I must have forgotten briefly.
Anywya, so through the years, I didn't doubt that my chidlren were learning. I wodnered if they were learning what they would in school- but not in a worryign sort of a way, just curious. Actually, I suspected their learning was far broader. There's a quote I read once, which I won't be able to find now we're on dial-up...but it was fro ma Summerhill Graduate, and it was saying somethign like, "We did a bit of everything, and collected puzzle pieces over the years, and then suddenly it all came together, all the pieeces fit". It was as if to say, that while the learning wasn't metered out in even doses, adn they didn't know *what* they were learning or how it related to the whole, or even if it was going to add up...somehow it did.
I think my children's learning looks like a muddle probably from the outside. It is a little bit here and there, adn then nothing for a long time, and then a big lot of something seemingly unimportant (or certainly not from the curricum)...but it is making connections all over the place.
J-Man drew a picture yesterday of The Unschooler's Brain...this is my son who has drawn only a handful of times since he was 6. Suddenly he likes to draw, and he is quite good at it actually.
But to look at this picture, it really was a brain shaped scribble. But when you looked closer, you saw that it was firign all over the place. It wasn't ordered, it was a scramble. If you looked closely you coudl see puzzle pieces. He explained the drawing at length, and I thought, "Here is a boy who really understands how his mind works."
OK, so I'm an unschooling convert, lol, nothing new about that...but here's the thing. I sometimes doubted, well I doubted a lot every so often, but I tried not to project that on to my children. I doubted that they were learning as much as they could be. I doubted that school kids were learning little to nothign in 6 hours a day 5 days a week. It didn't bother me, or wish a different childhood for my babies...after all, even if they don't learn as much or as well as a child in shcool- I still think unschooling is superior. There is more to life than letters and numbers. Do I wish for them to be surrounded by clever peopel, or by kind? I want them to grow up free, to grow up doign the thigns they love, and no, I am not concerned that the ywon;t be abel to handle "the real world", where there are jobs and people you don't like.
I'm rambling...so, they went to school. And, well, I have to admit I was astonished by how little they did! I was. I thoguth they woudl do sooo much, and certainly so much more than at home. But it was not the case. OK, so J-Man only went for 3 days, and yes- it wa a fairly low-standard school...but still, I knwo now that our "doing nothing" days, still involve more learning than a day in school.
As far as written work goes, in a full day of school...J-Man brought hom a maths book with the following written.
2+2=2x2
2+2+2=2x3
2+2+2+2=2x4 and so on up to 12x2
The next day he did 3x, adn the last day 4x.
I felt certain they woudl just give him busy work, since they would have no idea of what level he was functioning at. But no, he assured me this was what the whole class was doing.
He typed a story on the computer, actually more of a short account of his weekend.
He wrote a line of e's, and a few Maori words. He probably wrote less than the other children, because his writing is laborious.
They sang songs (all in Maori), and they listened to children giving mini-speeches in Maori. They walked to the library (which apprently took a very long time, by the time everyoen was ready, and in a straight line). They chose books there, though J-Man already had his own book.
Then, they went back to class for "SSR", Sustained Silent Reading. He found that terribly frustrating, because he was excited about the possibility of reading a little more of his book, but unable to because of the constant interruptions. The other children apaprently wanted to know if he could *actually* read the book (he was incredulous at this point, because he was already up to pg 200), and they also asked him to spell daft little words.
They sang more songs, in conjunction with the junior class. A girl told on a boy (of 10 or 12) who was playing with a matchbox car when he was supposed to be listening. The teacher snatched it off him, and he had a tantrum "like a two year old". This morphed in to a gigantic fuss, whereupon the boy picked up chairs and threw them.
That was about it. Every day was much the same (minus the theatrics of the first, but with a few scrimmages thrown in).
I asked what else they had done, and ther ewas nothing. I can't see how 6 hours can be filled up with this little...and this is a class of 9 chidlren. How much less would eb done in a class of 30 (or 36, as was the case in some schools in Auckland)?
So, Kiwi_Mama and others who are wondering...whatever you do at home, be it big or small, it is most likely more than your child would be doing at school. It makes me feel sorry for school children in general, and the child I was as well. What might I have accomplished had I not been in school for 30 horus a week, 40 or so weeks in a year, 11 loooong years?
School
School
I always knew home was better than school. It's just logical that a child will fare better in a family than in a room of 30 kids the same age. I remember when we first looked in to homeschooling for J-Man (he was 4.5 yrs at the time). I was told that if oen wanted to follow the NZ curriculum (which from all I had heard, I certainly did not), it woudl take a hoemschoolign family 2 hours a week.
I was sure they must mean 2 horus a day, which was still astonishing given tghat chidlren are at school for 6 horus a day. But no, it was actually 2 hours a week (instead of 30) that was required to get through the curriculum.
Ayyway, so I have always known my children were learning stuff. Recently I had someone suggest to me that J-Man is opposed to learning, that he doesn't like to learn, and somehow you would need ot trick him or cajole him in to it. I didn't know what to say at the time, ebcause it did look just at that moment liek it might be the case.
But upon reflection, I realised that J-Man loves to learn (as do all humans), he simply doesn't like to be taught, and he doesn't like learning to be boring...who does? He has always been like that, and here's the thing...learning is NOT boring when you are learning what interests you. It's fascinating. If you are used to a life of natural learning, learning what is important to you- of course you would find staged learning inferior. You may even come across as soemone who despises learning.
When J-Man was 4, and nearly a fluent reader, I asked him one day, "How would you spell 'computer'?" He roleld his eyes at me, and said, "Mum! You're trying to teach me again and you know it doesn't work!" Yes, 4 years old...I have always known that he prefers to learn in his own way and without interference, but I must have forgotten briefly.
Anywya, so through the years, I didn;t doubt that my chidlren were learning. I wodnered if they were learnign what they would in school- but not in a worryign sort of a way, just curious. Actually, I suspected their learning was far broader. There's a quote I read once, which I won;t be abel to find now we're on dial-up...but it was fro ma Summerhill Graduate, and it was saying somethign liek, "We did a bit of everything, and collected puzzle pieces over the years, and then suddenly it al lcame together, al lthe pieeces fit". It was as if to say, that whiel the learnign wasn't metered out in even doses, adn they didn;t know *what* they were learning or how it related to the whole, or even if it was goign to add up...somehow it did.
I think my children's learning looks liek a muddle probably from the outside. It is a littel bit here adn there, adn then nothing for a long time, adn then a big lot of somethign seemingly unimportant (or certainly not from the curricum)...but it is making conectiosn all voer the place.
J-Man drew a picture yesterday of Teh Unschooler's Brain...this is my son who has drawn only a handful of times since he was 6. Sudenyl he lieks to draw, and he is quite good at it actually.
BUt to look at this picture, it really was a brain shaped scribble. BUt when you looked closer, you saw that it was firign all over the place. It wasn;t ordered, it was a scramble. If you looked closely you coudl see puzzle pieces. He xplained the drawing at length, and I htought, "Here is a boy who really udnerstands hwo his mind works."
OK, so I'm an usnchoolign convert, lol, nothing new about that...but heres' the thign. I sometimes doubted, well I doubted a lot, but I tried not to project that on to my chidlren. I doubted that they were learning as much as they could be. I doubted that school kids were learning little to nothign in 6 hours a day 5 days a week. It didn;t bother me, or wish a different childhood for my babies...after all, even if they don;t learn as much or as well as a child in shcool- I still think usnchoolign is superior. There is more to life than letters adn numbers. Do I wish for them to be surrounded by clever peopel, or by kind? I want them to grow up free, to grow up doign the thigns they lvoe, and no, I am not concerned that the ywon;t be abel to handle "the realworld", where there are jobs and epoepl you don;t like.
I'm rambling...so, they went to school. And, well, I have to admit I was astonished by how little they did! I was. I thoguth they woudl do sooo much, and certiqanly so much more than at home. But it was not the case. OK, so J-Man only went for 3 days, and yes- it wa a fairly low-standard school...but still, I knwo now that our "doing nothign" days, still invovle more learnign than a day in school.
As far as written work goes, in a full day of school...J-Man brought hom a maths book with the following written.
2+2=2x2
2+2+2=2x3
2+2+2+2=2x4 and so on up to 12x2
The next day he did 3x, adn the last day 4x.
I felt certain they woudl just give him busy work, sicne they would have no idea of what level he was functioning at. But no, he assured me this was what the whole class was doing.
He typed a story on the computer, actualyl more of an accoutn of his weekend.
He wrote a line of e's, and a few Maori words.
They sang songs (all in Maori), and they listened to children giving mini-speeches in Maori. They walekd to the library (which apprently took a veyr logn time, by the time everyoen was ready, and in a straight line). They chose books there, though J-Man already had his own book.
Then, they went back to class for "SSR", Sustained Silent Reading. He foudn that terribly frustrating, because he was excited abotu the possibility of reading al ittle more of his book, but unable to because of the constant interruptions. The other chidlren apaprently wanted to knwo if he coudl *actualyl* read the book (he was incredulous at this point, because he was already up to pg 200), and they also asked him to spell daft little words.
They sang more songs, in conjunction with the junior class. A girl told on a boy (of 10 or 12) who was palyign with a matchbox car when he was supposed to be listneing. The teacher snatched it off him, and he had a tantrum "like a two year old". This morphed in to a gigantic fuss, wheredupon the boy picked up chairs and threw them.
That was about it. Every day was mcuh the same (minus the theatrics of the first, but with a few srimmages thrown in).
I asked what else they had done, and ther ewas nothing. I can;t see how 6 hours can be filled up with this little...and this is a class of 9 chidlren. How much less would eb done in a class of 30 (or 36, as was the case in some schools in Auckland)?
So, Kiwi_Mama and others who are wondering...whatever you do at home, be it big or small, it is most lieely more than your chidl woudl eb doign at school. It makwes me feel sorry for school children in general, adn the child I was as well. What migth I have accomplished had I not been in school for 30 horus a week, 40 or so weeks in a year, 11 loooong years?
I always knew home was better than school. It's just logical that a child will fare better in a family than in a room of 30 kids the same age. I remember when we first looked in to homeschooling for J-Man (he was 4.5 yrs at the time). I was told that if oen wanted to follow the NZ curriculum (which from all I had heard, I certainly did not), it woudl take a hoemschoolign family 2 hours a week.
I was sure they must mean 2 horus a day, which was still astonishing given tghat chidlren are at school for 6 horus a day. But no, it was actually 2 hours a week (instead of 30) that was required to get through the curriculum.
Ayyway, so I have always known my children were learning stuff. Recently I had someone suggest to me that J-Man is opposed to learning, that he doesn't like to learn, and somehow you would need ot trick him or cajole him in to it. I didn't know what to say at the time, ebcause it did look just at that moment liek it might be the case.
But upon reflection, I realised that J-Man loves to learn (as do all humans), he simply doesn't like to be taught, and he doesn't like learning to be boring...who does? He has always been like that, and here's the thing...learning is NOT boring when you are learning what interests you. It's fascinating. If you are used to a life of natural learning, learning what is important to you- of course you would find staged learning inferior. You may even come across as soemone who despises learning.
When J-Man was 4, and nearly a fluent reader, I asked him one day, "How would you spell 'computer'?" He roleld his eyes at me, and said, "Mum! You're trying to teach me again and you know it doesn't work!" Yes, 4 years old...I have always known that he prefers to learn in his own way and without interference, but I must have forgotten briefly.
Anywya, so through the years, I didn;t doubt that my chidlren were learning. I wodnered if they were learnign what they would in school- but not in a worryign sort of a way, just curious. Actually, I suspected their learning was far broader. There's a quote I read once, which I won;t be abel to find now we're on dial-up...but it was fro ma Summerhill Graduate, and it was saying somethign liek, "We did a bit of everything, and collected puzzle pieces over the years, and then suddenly it al lcame together, al lthe pieeces fit". It was as if to say, that whiel the learnign wasn't metered out in even doses, adn they didn;t know *what* they were learning or how it related to the whole, or even if it was goign to add up...somehow it did.
I think my children's learning looks liek a muddle probably from the outside. It is a littel bit here adn there, adn then nothing for a long time, adn then a big lot of somethign seemingly unimportant (or certainly not from the curricum)...but it is making conectiosn all voer the place.
J-Man drew a picture yesterday of Teh Unschooler's Brain...this is my son who has drawn only a handful of times since he was 6. Sudenyl he lieks to draw, and he is quite good at it actually.
BUt to look at this picture, it really was a brain shaped scribble. BUt when you looked closer, you saw that it was firign all over the place. It wasn;t ordered, it was a scramble. If you looked closely you coudl see puzzle pieces. He xplained the drawing at length, and I htought, "Here is a boy who really udnerstands hwo his mind works."
OK, so I'm an usnchoolign convert, lol, nothing new about that...but heres' the thign. I sometimes doubted, well I doubted a lot, but I tried not to project that on to my chidlren. I doubted that they were learning as much as they could be. I doubted that school kids were learning little to nothign in 6 hours a day 5 days a week. It didn;t bother me, or wish a different childhood for my babies...after all, even if they don;t learn as much or as well as a child in shcool- I still think usnchoolign is superior. There is more to life than letters adn numbers. Do I wish for them to be surrounded by clever peopel, or by kind? I want them to grow up free, to grow up doign the thigns they lvoe, and no, I am not concerned that the ywon;t be abel to handle "the realworld", where there are jobs and epoepl you don;t like.
I'm rambling...so, they went to school. And, well, I have to admit I was astonished by how little they did! I was. I thoguth they woudl do sooo much, and certiqanly so much more than at home. But it was not the case. OK, so J-Man only went for 3 days, and yes- it wa a fairly low-standard school...but still, I knwo now that our "doing nothign" days, still invovle more learnign than a day in school.
As far as written work goes, in a full day of school...J-Man brought hom a maths book with the following written.
2+2=2x2
2+2+2=2x3
2+2+2+2=2x4 and so on up to 12x2
The next day he did 3x, adn the last day 4x.
I felt certain they woudl just give him busy work, sicne they would have no idea of what level he was functioning at. But no, he assured me this was what the whole class was doing.
He typed a story on the computer, actualyl more of an accoutn of his weekend.
He wrote a line of e's, and a few Maori words.
They sang songs (all in Maori), and they listened to children giving mini-speeches in Maori. They walekd to the library (which apprently took a veyr logn time, by the time everyoen was ready, and in a straight line). They chose books there, though J-Man already had his own book.
Then, they went back to class for "SSR", Sustained Silent Reading. He foudn that terribly frustrating, because he was excited abotu the possibility of reading al ittle more of his book, but unable to because of the constant interruptions. The other chidlren apaprently wanted to knwo if he coudl *actualyl* read the book (he was incredulous at this point, because he was already up to pg 200), and they also asked him to spell daft little words.
They sang more songs, in conjunction with the junior class. A girl told on a boy (of 10 or 12) who was palyign with a matchbox car when he was supposed to be listneing. The teacher snatched it off him, and he had a tantrum "like a two year old". This morphed in to a gigantic fuss, wheredupon the boy picked up chairs and threw them.
That was about it. Every day was mcuh the same (minus the theatrics of the first, but with a few srimmages thrown in).
I asked what else they had done, and ther ewas nothing. I can;t see how 6 hours can be filled up with this little...and this is a class of 9 chidlren. How much less would eb done in a class of 30 (or 36, as was the case in some schools in Auckland)?
So, Kiwi_Mama and others who are wondering...whatever you do at home, be it big or small, it is most lieely more than your chidl woudl eb doign at school. It makwes me feel sorry for school children in general, adn the child I was as well. What migth I have accomplished had I not been in school for 30 horus a week, 40 or so weeks in a year, 11 loooong years?
Tuesday, August 25, 2009
Parenting for a Peaceful World by Robin Grille
Parenting for a Peaceful World by Robin Grille
An excerpt from page 84...
"Helping mode parents attend to their chidlren's emotional development by listening with empathy to their children's expressions of need. Children's unrefined and spontaneous expressions of feeling and need are validated as never before, and this process begins at birth. Increasingly, we are coming to believe that babies know when they are hungry, how much they need to consume, when they are tired, when they need to be held, and when they need engagement or attention. A baby's cry, no longer thought to be capricious or meaningless, is warmly attended to without delay. It is the baby's natural biological and emotional cycles, not the clock o nthe wall, that govern the ebb and flow of nurturance- and the carer is led by the baby's cues. For this reason, the newest mode is often referred to as 'natural parenting'.
Toddlers and older children are benefiting from a greater tolerance for their expressions of feeling, opinions, wants and needs. In contrast to the censure of earlier modes, they are more likely to encounter empathy. What motivates helping mode parents is the desire to allow adn support the natural unfolding of each child's unique individuality."
This is a very important book, I'm not finished yet but would like to encourage you to pick up a copy. Please be warned, it will probably make you cry.
An excerpt from page 84...
"Helping mode parents attend to their chidlren's emotional development by listening with empathy to their children's expressions of need. Children's unrefined and spontaneous expressions of feeling and need are validated as never before, and this process begins at birth. Increasingly, we are coming to believe that babies know when they are hungry, how much they need to consume, when they are tired, when they need to be held, and when they need engagement or attention. A baby's cry, no longer thought to be capricious or meaningless, is warmly attended to without delay. It is the baby's natural biological and emotional cycles, not the clock o nthe wall, that govern the ebb and flow of nurturance- and the carer is led by the baby's cues. For this reason, the newest mode is often referred to as 'natural parenting'.
Toddlers and older children are benefiting from a greater tolerance for their expressions of feeling, opinions, wants and needs. In contrast to the censure of earlier modes, they are more likely to encounter empathy. What motivates helping mode parents is the desire to allow adn support the natural unfolding of each child's unique individuality."
This is a very important book, I'm not finished yet but would like to encourage you to pick up a copy. Please be warned, it will probably make you cry.
The Difference a Friend Can Make...
We've made friends with an unschooling family here...hooray. Suddenly everything seems a little brighter. They are fabulous people, and I just know I will learn a bucket-load from this lady and her amazing garden and home.
Our children all got along well, which is not always a given, but definitely always a bonus! They played together happily for hours, and just to top it off- we'll be going there again later this week.
Our children all got along well, which is not always a given, but definitely always a bonus! They played together happily for hours, and just to top it off- we'll be going there again later this week.
Saturday
On Saturday we drove to Whangarei (about an hour and a half south) so that I could go to an Home Education Symposium. DH
took the children to the local library, then for (homemade) lunch in a park, before meeting friends at the wave pools. The friends used to live in Auckland, and had moved north nearly 2 years ago- it was wonderful for the kids to get together again.
Meanwhile, at the HE symposium, I got to meet several other home educators, including a large number of unschoolers.
Actually, it might have been the largest gathering of unschoolers I have been a part of (irl).
I got to meet one lady who's online posts I have enjoyed for many years. It was a real buzz meeting her at last, and attending her talk on Unschooling: Learning in Freedom. There was a lot of chance for discussion, and I got a bit carried away. For one thing, I find it hard to keep quiet about the wonders of unschooling at hte best of times, but in that setting I felt so comfortable, and I guess so starved of stimulating conversation for the last several weeks- I rattled on far too much. I felt terrible about it, but then I also had 3 or 4 people come to me afterward to discuss a matter further or to say they had appreciated what I had said.
I also know, alas from personal experience, how nutty radical unschooling can sound on first hearing of it. While unschooling for academics made enormous sense to me, having seen how much J-Man had learned without teaching...when I first heard of people who let their children choose their bedtime, or their breakfast, or how much television to watch...well, I honestly thought they were crackers.
It also took me a very long time (about a year, if I recall correctly) before I came to see that if I could trust my child to learn reading and writing and mathematics, I could trust him to care for his body as well.I still wish I hadn't banged on so long and taken over someone else's talk (not that I meant to do that!).
I got to meet Karen (waves to Karen), a closet blog-reader, and that was encouraging in itself that there are people who read my blog, and somehow the muddle of words inspires the odd one or two (very odd...joking, lol).
I went to another talk about "Letting Go", which was also very interesting. It was by an unschooling (solo) father, an ex-science teacher, and the process he went through- from intending to broaden young people's minds, to realising his naivete and seeing that being a teacher was no way to show love to children, to realising his own children needed him. It was terribly touching, and again there was a lot of great discussion.
I chatted to many different ones, and thoroughly enjoyed myself. I loved, at the end, speaking to a teenaged home-educated girl, and realising with a shock that while I am (nearly!) 21 years older, I felt no different to her. She was awfully mature, and I wondered what I would think if I met myself at age 14. How can I be such a lot older than someone, but not feel it at all? Oh, yes, there is a mild crisis I guess- I am 35 this week! 35!!?? Ouch!!
dh and the kiddos picked me up soon after the symposium wound down, and we headed to Pizza Hut for all-you-can-eat (their
choice), and I ate a lot. This was not good, because I finally felt like I was getting somewhere with my weightloss plan, but the look on Tombliboo's face when he saw a large (huge!) bowl of jelly babies was priceless. He made at least 7 bowls
of icecream (some with chocolate sauce) and planted jelly babies in the "bath". And no, it was not a shocking waste of ice cream- his Daddy finished every bowl. Turns out Tombliboo prefers cucumber to jelly babies.
We left, very stuffed in more ways than one, and all three children fell asleep on the journey.
took the children to the local library, then for (homemade) lunch in a park, before meeting friends at the wave pools. The friends used to live in Auckland, and had moved north nearly 2 years ago- it was wonderful for the kids to get together again.
Meanwhile, at the HE symposium, I got to meet several other home educators, including a large number of unschoolers.
Actually, it might have been the largest gathering of unschoolers I have been a part of (irl).
I got to meet one lady who's online posts I have enjoyed for many years. It was a real buzz meeting her at last, and attending her talk on Unschooling: Learning in Freedom. There was a lot of chance for discussion, and I got a bit carried away. For one thing, I find it hard to keep quiet about the wonders of unschooling at hte best of times, but in that setting I felt so comfortable, and I guess so starved of stimulating conversation for the last several weeks- I rattled on far too much. I felt terrible about it, but then I also had 3 or 4 people come to me afterward to discuss a matter further or to say they had appreciated what I had said.
I also know, alas from personal experience, how nutty radical unschooling can sound on first hearing of it. While unschooling for academics made enormous sense to me, having seen how much J-Man had learned without teaching...when I first heard of people who let their children choose their bedtime, or their breakfast, or how much television to watch...well, I honestly thought they were crackers.
It also took me a very long time (about a year, if I recall correctly) before I came to see that if I could trust my child to learn reading and writing and mathematics, I could trust him to care for his body as well.I still wish I hadn't banged on so long and taken over someone else's talk (not that I meant to do that!).
I got to meet Karen (waves to Karen), a closet blog-reader, and that was encouraging in itself that there are people who read my blog, and somehow the muddle of words inspires the odd one or two (very odd...joking, lol).
I went to another talk about "Letting Go", which was also very interesting. It was by an unschooling (solo) father, an ex-science teacher, and the process he went through- from intending to broaden young people's minds, to realising his naivete and seeing that being a teacher was no way to show love to children, to realising his own children needed him. It was terribly touching, and again there was a lot of great discussion.
I chatted to many different ones, and thoroughly enjoyed myself. I loved, at the end, speaking to a teenaged home-educated girl, and realising with a shock that while I am (nearly!) 21 years older, I felt no different to her. She was awfully mature, and I wondered what I would think if I met myself at age 14. How can I be such a lot older than someone, but not feel it at all? Oh, yes, there is a mild crisis I guess- I am 35 this week! 35!!?? Ouch!!
dh and the kiddos picked me up soon after the symposium wound down, and we headed to Pizza Hut for all-you-can-eat (their
choice), and I ate a lot. This was not good, because I finally felt like I was getting somewhere with my weightloss plan, but the look on Tombliboo's face when he saw a large (huge!) bowl of jelly babies was priceless. He made at least 7 bowls
of icecream (some with chocolate sauce) and planted jelly babies in the "bath". And no, it was not a shocking waste of ice cream- his Daddy finished every bowl. Turns out Tombliboo prefers cucumber to jelly babies.
We left, very stuffed in more ways than one, and all three children fell asleep on the journey.
Saturday, August 22, 2009
Choosing School, Part 2 (long)
Friday was Princess' second day of school, and J-Man's third. I enjoyed the day with Tombliboo, as devastated as I was, and I started to see good things about school. For one thing, I had all my jobs done well before they got home- when 3pm rolled round, I was ready. I enjoyed being with Tombliboo, we went to the beach and played trains, and he helped me bake. The day went surprisingly quickly.
The kids came home bursting with school. J-Man had won a book for being the top student for the week- kind of ironic, since he hadn't been to school for 6 hours a day, 5 days a week for 5.5 years, had done no school work- just played, had fun and lived his life. Then again, dh realised perhaps it was like a bribe, since we had said a decision would be made by Monday. Princess won a book too, and then she was able to choose someone else to win yet another book- naturally she chose, J-Man.
J-Man was very sure he would be going back on Monday, Princess seemed non-comittal though J-Man badgered her about it at every turn. I hoped a couple of days at home would remind them how much fun it was with us. We played a game of Settlers of Catan (which we currently play around 3-4 times a week!). Tombliboo (2.75 yrs) likes to be the banker, though he eventually hordes all the cards, and takes them away to play with his trains. Part way through the game, I was dismayed to hear J-Man announce ,"I can't stand this- my brain isn't being used, and I need to do school work!" He ranted for a bit more, before going to his room to bring out his school maths book. This annoyed me enormously, since he seems to have done just fine with playing games for 10 years, and I said, "If you haven't been using your brain all this time, why are you top of your school class?"
The weekend was fun, and I thought- if school is how it is to be, then I guess we still have weekends, and I can make myself as available as possible for them after 3pm too. Maybe it won't be that bad...but it bugged me to think of our family being like everyone else's- outwardly...there was no way I was happy about losing them each day. I kept thinking about that saying, something like "Being a mother means that your heart forever beats outside your body"...which I hadn't really felt like before, until suddenly 2 of my children, the most important people in the world to me, were gone for 6 hours a day. In truth, and not to sound dramatic- just what I really thought. I felt like I did when I miscarried. An overwhelming sense of emptiness, and I wondered how I would ever really recover. And where did I fit now- not with radical unschoolers, the only place I really ever felt like I fitted...and certainly not with the school mums who were glad of the peace.
A (non-HE) few people told me it must be nice to have a break, but it wasn't. I got the feeling that there would be a whole bunch of people quite pleased this had happened.
After dinner Sunday night, we discussed what would happen in the morning. The kids knew they needed to make a decision about whether or not they would be enrolling in school, and I still hoped that while it looked certain they would- perhaps after a few weeks, or at least when we move to our new house, they would want to come home. Hoping like crazy that this wasn't permanent.
When dh asked, "So- would you like to go to school every day?", Princess immediately answered, "No- I'd rather stay at home." I was all ready to say, "No worries- but you can still be home-schooled again if you change your mind." I had to recover quickly, and ask her to repeat what she had said. She didn't want to go back? Really? 2 days was enough to see that while it was pretty fun, it wasn't preferable to home. Hallelujah!
Then to J-Man, who I realised was the one who was really keen. Princess had just been going along for the ride, and said that the only reason she decided to go was because J-Man wanted her to. And, yes- if he asked her to, she probably would jump off a bridge.
And, blow me down if he didn't say he would rather stay home too. He said, "I like school, but I see it's too much of a sacrifice- I would have have so much less time to be with my family and do the things I want to do if I wasn't home until 3:10pm each day." Oh boy! Is it true? Did my children just realise for themselves how school is inferior to home? With no interference from me, and seemingly a fair bit of encouragement from the school corner...and after only 2/3 days? WHOOPEE!
Suddenly the world seemed normal again...but I was still nervous they might change their minds...but then I was also pretty sure, now that we had been to hell and come out of it so quickly- that there was little chance they would go permanently. They can think for themselves, they can make informed decisions.
J-Man got upset (really upset) with a game he and Princess were playing and I held my breath. That had been the catalyst for his decision to try school. I waited to hear he had changed his mind and he would be tootling off again in the morning. But no, he went to his room for a break, and when I looked in on him, we chatted and his equilibrium was restored. He went back to the game, and I wondered how long I will hold my breath each time they argue over Lego....but then got on with my private (and texting) celebration.
My children would not be going to school in the morning. They would be home with me- and I wouldn't quickly forget what life without them was like. I would make sure to cherish them, and let them know how much I enjoyed their company, and themselves. And Monday rolled around, that's what I did.
The big kids joined us in our itty-bitty double bed for snuggles in the morning, and we all stayed there way longer than usual. It was a very happy day, an ordinary day really- nothing earth-shattering, nothing different at all really- just a normal ol' day, but everything was different for me.
The kids came home bursting with school. J-Man had won a book for being the top student for the week- kind of ironic, since he hadn't been to school for 6 hours a day, 5 days a week for 5.5 years, had done no school work- just played, had fun and lived his life. Then again, dh realised perhaps it was like a bribe, since we had said a decision would be made by Monday. Princess won a book too, and then she was able to choose someone else to win yet another book- naturally she chose, J-Man.
J-Man was very sure he would be going back on Monday, Princess seemed non-comittal though J-Man badgered her about it at every turn. I hoped a couple of days at home would remind them how much fun it was with us. We played a game of Settlers of Catan (which we currently play around 3-4 times a week!). Tombliboo (2.75 yrs) likes to be the banker, though he eventually hordes all the cards, and takes them away to play with his trains. Part way through the game, I was dismayed to hear J-Man announce ,"I can't stand this- my brain isn't being used, and I need to do school work!" He ranted for a bit more, before going to his room to bring out his school maths book. This annoyed me enormously, since he seems to have done just fine with playing games for 10 years, and I said, "If you haven't been using your brain all this time, why are you top of your school class?"
The weekend was fun, and I thought- if school is how it is to be, then I guess we still have weekends, and I can make myself as available as possible for them after 3pm too. Maybe it won't be that bad...but it bugged me to think of our family being like everyone else's- outwardly...there was no way I was happy about losing them each day. I kept thinking about that saying, something like "Being a mother means that your heart forever beats outside your body"...which I hadn't really felt like before, until suddenly 2 of my children, the most important people in the world to me, were gone for 6 hours a day. In truth, and not to sound dramatic- just what I really thought. I felt like I did when I miscarried. An overwhelming sense of emptiness, and I wondered how I would ever really recover. And where did I fit now- not with radical unschoolers, the only place I really ever felt like I fitted...and certainly not with the school mums who were glad of the peace.
A (non-HE) few people told me it must be nice to have a break, but it wasn't. I got the feeling that there would be a whole bunch of people quite pleased this had happened.
After dinner Sunday night, we discussed what would happen in the morning. The kids knew they needed to make a decision about whether or not they would be enrolling in school, and I still hoped that while it looked certain they would- perhaps after a few weeks, or at least when we move to our new house, they would want to come home. Hoping like crazy that this wasn't permanent.
When dh asked, "So- would you like to go to school every day?", Princess immediately answered, "No- I'd rather stay at home." I was all ready to say, "No worries- but you can still be home-schooled again if you change your mind." I had to recover quickly, and ask her to repeat what she had said. She didn't want to go back? Really? 2 days was enough to see that while it was pretty fun, it wasn't preferable to home. Hallelujah!
Then to J-Man, who I realised was the one who was really keen. Princess had just been going along for the ride, and said that the only reason she decided to go was because J-Man wanted her to. And, yes- if he asked her to, she probably would jump off a bridge.
And, blow me down if he didn't say he would rather stay home too. He said, "I like school, but I see it's too much of a sacrifice- I would have have so much less time to be with my family and do the things I want to do if I wasn't home until 3:10pm each day." Oh boy! Is it true? Did my children just realise for themselves how school is inferior to home? With no interference from me, and seemingly a fair bit of encouragement from the school corner...and after only 2/3 days? WHOOPEE!
Suddenly the world seemed normal again...but I was still nervous they might change their minds...but then I was also pretty sure, now that we had been to hell and come out of it so quickly- that there was little chance they would go permanently. They can think for themselves, they can make informed decisions.
J-Man got upset (really upset) with a game he and Princess were playing and I held my breath. That had been the catalyst for his decision to try school. I waited to hear he had changed his mind and he would be tootling off again in the morning. But no, he went to his room for a break, and when I looked in on him, we chatted and his equilibrium was restored. He went back to the game, and I wondered how long I will hold my breath each time they argue over Lego....but then got on with my private (and texting) celebration.
My children would not be going to school in the morning. They would be home with me- and I wouldn't quickly forget what life without them was like. I would make sure to cherish them, and let them know how much I enjoyed their company, and themselves. And Monday rolled around, that's what I did.
The big kids joined us in our itty-bitty double bed for snuggles in the morning, and we all stayed there way longer than usual. It was a very happy day, an ordinary day really- nothing earth-shattering, nothing different at all really- just a normal ol' day, but everything was different for me.
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