Week 2: Crazy Huge History Timeline

The Adams SynChronological Map of History

Math is not my strong suit.

When I ordered this timeline, I was expecting it to be about 1/4 of this size.  Great Googly Moogly. 

But it is amazing.  Look at those colors!  Look at all that information!  I feel faint.  One of the things that got me excited about homeschooling to begin with, was getting to teach history.  I loooooooooooove history.  Well... that's sorta weird to say, since so many awful events have occurred throughout history.  I guess I looooooooooooove learning about history.

I was an Art major in college, and I almost minored in Art History.  Oh Art History, I love you so.  You little minx, you.  But I couldn't bring myself to do it.  I knew I was already bound to be unemployable with that Art major hanging over me, and adding Art History would have just pushed me over the edge.  Instead, I minored in the the vague Communications, where I took courses like "The Vietnam War Throughout Film" and "The History of Animation."  You know, so much more practical.  Eye roll.  Whatever.  At least I didn't minor in Dramatic Set Design.

Anyway, back to my hot and heavy love affair with history.  Smoochie smooch.  Ironically, my passion was once nearly quenched when I was 20 years old and studying abroad in Florence, Italy, of all places.  First of all, in Italy, the art itself can almost send you into sensory overload.  Sometimes, it is just too. much.  You just want to turn it off and watch a coat rack for awhile.  But even their coat racks are beautiful, so you can't.  That was a small part of my problem.

But the real problem--the ghastly monster who almost destroyed my love of both art and history--was named Helen.  At my art school, the only professor of Art History was a certifiable OCD nutjob.  I've blocked her last name from my memory, but her first name is stuck in there forever... Helen Helen Helllllllllllllen.  Helen, an American expat in Italy, had been at that school for many many years, and it pains me to think of how many art lovers this woman probably destroyed over time.   In class, we flipped through art slides at lightening speed, unable to keep up with the dry and boring facts that Helen flatly rattled off.  On field trips, we literally ran from church to cathedral to museum, barely glancing at monumental works of art, while a trail of spewed facts jabbed into our skulls.  As students, we were constantly scolded for drifting off, not "appreciating" the art enough or trying to listen to other tour guides.  Some students took to sneaking off to drink wine in small Italian villages we visited.  I finally tucked headphones inside my cap, listening to old "Police" songs in an attempt to drown out the pratterings of Helen.  I will forever think of angrily staring at Renaissance paintings in freezing cold churches when I hear "Don't Stand So Close To Me."  When I was actually reprimanded for spending too much time in "awe" in the Sistine Chapel (approximately 15 minutes), I almost snapped.  I went and hid behind some scaffolding to keep from having a professor verbal smackdown in the middle of the Vatican.   I look back and cannot believe that, because of one mentally ill teacher, my love of Art History was almost ruined.

But no, Helen, did not ultimately kill my joy.   It took awhile to recover... but I think I am ready to jump back in and study some great art and some fascinating history.

The Reading of the Books

I think I have read every homeschooling book at our library in the past four months.

Prior to this school year, my homeschool book list consisted of one reading of The Well-Trained Mind by Jessie Wise and Susan Wise Bauer, which I read the summer before Anna started kindergarten.  It resulted in poor little Ellen mentally hyperventilating.  Maybe physically, too.  Can't remember.  All I remember is agreeing with most of what was in the book, thinking "Why in the blazes am I even considering something like this?" and returning it with great speed to my friend, Emily (who did end up classically homeschooling her twins.)

Now?

I am definitely in a different place.  I have been devouring books about homeschooling and education.  I want to underline underline underline (but I won't, because hey, I am a good little library patron.)  I disagree with some stuff, of course.  But I find myself saying, "yes yes YES" more often than naught.

I think the difference is dealing with the current public school system for 2 1/2 years.  (Again, I want to say that my issues are not with the teachers.  Anna's teachers have been devoted, caring and bright.  It's the system which lacks my fondness.)  But that is probably another very long blog post.

In the meantime, here are a few books that have inspired me:

Dumbing Us Down by John Taylor Gatto
Not a homeschool book, I suppose.  But I don't see how you couldn't be considering homeschooling after reading this book.  I have been dealing with and scratching my head at the public school system for years now (both my own schooling and then my daughter's experience), but I haven't really been able to figure out what the core problem is.  Gatto, a 30-year veteran teacher in New York City, finally pinned it for me.  Light bulb moment.  The deep dark problem with our schools is not anything that curriculum reform and tinkering can possibly fix.  The problem with our country is that we have replaced true family and community with false family and community (he calls them "networks") and the public school system is culprit numero uno.  In his words, we do not need more school.  We need less.  Less money thrown at the school, less hours away from home, more time with family, more parents acting unselfishly and pouring into their children and their lifelong learning... since I don't see that happening anytime soon, the search for alternative educational solutions becomes pretty clear.

100 Top Picks by Cathy Duffy
This book helped me gain confidence that I could homeschool.   It is a guide to homeschool curriculum, but it is more.  She helps you pinpoint your educational philosophy or "bent" (Classical and Charlotte Mason here) so that you can pick out the curriculum that would work best for your family.  Then she gives you some fantastic choices for curriculum.  It was reading this book that got me excited about what we were actually going to learn.  Before I read this book, I was just looking at a boxed Abeka curriculum, thinking, "Oh, I guess this will be fine.  We can muddle through it.  I guess."  For some families, a boxed curriculum is perfect.  But I knew that it would not be right for us.  I am kinda a rebel at heart and I knew that boxed was gonna make me cranky.  This book opened me up to a world of possibilities. 

A Year of Learning Dangerously by Quinn Cummings
Quinn Cummings is a former Oscar-nominated child actress turned stay-at-home mom who blogs at The QC Report.  After her daughter's Los Angeles-based education was not going so well, she decided to homeschool.  The book is her first year journey.  They try (or at least explore) online public school (BIG fail), radical unschooling, homeschool playgroups, Christian curriculum fairs, the Gothard movement, homeschool proms and classical education (albeit, very briefly.)   I didn't not particularly care for the sections where Quinn "secretly" attends conventions around the country, going so far as to dress like the homeschooling group in question.  She attends the conventions under the guise of being genuinely interested in their beliefs, but honestly, she comes across as voyeuristic, creepy and well, like she knows that she is going to try to get a book deal and her "spywork" will make her story more interesting to publishers.  But the book is worth a read just to see that other moms freak out and cry in the laundry room (which I highly suspect will happen to me next week.)

A School Like Mine by Unicef
It might seem odd that I would put this on my list, but I happened to check it out of the library when I was beginning my beginning my decision-making process.  It had an impact on me.  Growing up in the U.S. of A., I was given the impression that our country did schooling best and that was just the way it was.  Public school (Maybe private school if you were rich.  Or Catholic school if you were Catholic.  Other than that, you went to public school K-12.)  But as I scanned this fascinating book (which shows how children are educated around the world), it occurred to me that there is no one correct way to educate a child.   (I found myself particularly turned off by French schools, a tightly government-controlled system in which the children are in school or doing homework most of the day and cannot even bring their own lunch to school.   All religious teaching and symbols are banned from the schools, and parents often send their children into the school system by age 3.  Pretty much exactly what Gatto warns the world against.)

and I am gonna include it (oh, the irony)...

The Well-Trained Mind by Jessie Wise and Susan Wise Bauer
Okay, I must admit it.  I love this book.  It is the Classical Education Playbook for the rest of us.  What is interesting is, after rereading it, I noticed how eerily the authors' 1973 public school experience ended up echoing my own.  For the past 2 1/2 years, I have been scratching my head at my daughter's lessons and the chaotic order in which everything is taught.  For instance, my 7-year old daughter sat at the kitchen table in tears because she had to write out a paragraph about some twaddle book with no plot.  However, she was never taught handwriting.  Nor was she ever taught the mechanics of a sentence.  She doesn't know subjects or verbs yet.  I realized that she desperately needed learning tools.  Enter classical education.  Classical education makes sense to me now.  It understands how real learning happens.  The Well-Trained Mind is a God-send.  It tells you exactly what to teach and the why and the how.  Now that I have seen what the lack of order creates, this book is a breath of fresh air.   I am now a groupie.


And lastly, here are books that I really really wanted to like but left me "meh.":

The Read Aloud Handbook by Jim Trelease
Granted, it's worth a read for the book list in the back.  But I was pretty disappointed with the rest of it.  So many people rave about this book!  I guess it was kinda "Duh" for me.  The whole book could be summed up in a sentence:  Read to your children because it will turn them into readers and that is  a good thing.  Well... duh.  But I've been reading to Anna since she was one, and my parents read to me, and it is just a given in my mind that you should read to your child.  Maybe that's a new concept to some people?  

The Three R's by Ruth Beechick
I suspect that I will come to appreciate this book later.  I think that the author wanted to instill confidence for the newbie homeschooler-- "Oh, it's so easy.  The three R's.  You know how to read.  So just follow these simple techniques and blammo, you are teaching your kid."  But it had the opposite effect on me.  I felt overwhelmed.  I need more hand holding, more lists, more planning right now in my journey.  Maybe I will be more relaxed to try this method with Noah.  Maybe not.  I am rather intense.

In Praise of Teachers

I know that it seems a bit odd for someone who is about to start homeschooling to write a post such as this.

But starting down my homeschooling path has led me to examine my own educational history.  I have done a great deal of thinking about public school, past and present, and teachers, past and present.  Maybe I am rare, but until about high school, I look back pretty fondly on my education (notice I said "education", and not "socialization."  That is a different story.  Does anyone look back on the Junior High emotional slaughterhouse without pain?)  But actual education-wise, I was pretty blessed.  I had parents, and quite a few teachers, who instilled a love of learning in me.

There were the popular teachers, of course.  You know, the "fun" ones.  They usually were big hits with the popular students and the jocks.  They didn't give homework on game night.  Actually, they didn't give much homework at all.  You spent most of the time talking about current events or Homecoming or letting some doofus entertain the class for an hour.  They might have been fun, and I might have laughed a lot in class, but I can't recall learning much of anything.  And that kind of sucked.

There were the stinker teachers.  Some were just plain burnt out.  Maybe they were good teachers, once upon a time.  But administration policies and lazy students had killed their zeal, long ago.  Some were there for other reasons (like coaching football) and got stuck teaching Biology.  They usually gave extra credit for knowing who was in the Final Four.  Some tried so hard, but their minds were just too cluttered and they were too disorganized to be effective teachers.  Some teachers were just walking disasters.  I had one teacher who was a former hippie.  She drank from a coffee thermos all day long.  Sam Vachon once took a slurp from it during one of her many wanderings away from the class.  Vodka.  She was busted years later for selling pot.  Needless to say, we only made it two chapters into our textbook that year. 

Every so often, there were the machiavellian teachers.  I wonder if they were actually out to destroy students.  I had one teacher who actually used the Stockholm Syndrome to make us believe she was a fabulous teacher.  She would treat the class really really badly for the first few weeks-- belittling and humiliating certain students, teaching in a way that confused and scared everyone-- then she would slowly start befriending them.  By the end of the year, all the students would rave about her.  Looking back, that was a horrendous way to teach students. 

But there were also the wonderful teachers...  the ones who cared, the ones who listened, the ones who stayed after school with you to help you figure out that stupid Geometry puzzle.  These teachers didn't give a rat's ass about which students were in the cool crowd.   They gave homework.  They pushed you.  They assigned you special projects if they noticed any passionate interests.  They dressed up in their old wedding dress to play Miss Havisham to make Great Expectations a bit more interesting (that was my 9th grade English teacher.)  My sixth grade teacher actually took all the girls in our class camping. What a saint.  They might not have been the "cool" teachers, but they had gravitational pull.  Students flock to teachers who care.  I had an art professor in college, Bristow... he was like that.  Students loved him, both the arty ones and the ones who were just trying to get their art credit out of the way.  I don't know that he was the best at actual "teaching" but man, did he care.  We all loved him.  It was hard to find an "alone" moment with him because there was always a line!

And then... there were the golden teachers.  You know the ones.  If you've never had one, I feel sorry for you.  They were so very very rare.  They were the teachers who had such a gift for teaching that they could have taught Remedial Cereal Box Label Exploration and made it come alive.   My 8th grade Algebra teacher, Mrs. Murphy, had that gift.  So did an old art history professor of mine.  My 4th grade teacher, Mrs. Kreeger, taught me how to draw and changed my life.  These teachers don't really have to deal much with kids talking in class.  The kids were too busy engrossed in what they were learning. 

Looking back, I had way more wonderful, caring teachers than stinkers.  I am eternally grateful to them (said like a little Toy Story alien, "Weareeternallygrateful.")  But it also makes me sad, because I know that with the advent of No Child Left Behind, all the crazy stupid testing (in my opinion), the stress of the Common Core Standards and increasingly uninvolved parents, it is more and more difficult for creative, caring teachers to survive in the public school system with their love of teaching intact.

I think of the neat creative projects that my teachers used to do with me.  Sunprints, making homemade yogurt, learning Taiwanese songs, watching a python eat a rabbit for two hours (yes, that really happened.  Thank you, Mr. Granderson.) Then I hear about my daughter's school schedule and I know that there is no freakin' way she will ever get to do that stuff.  But she gets an hour of ipad time everyday.  (Eyeroll.) 

So I say thank you to some of those former teachers.  I appreciate you.  You gave me a love of learning, which I will hopefully be able to share with my own children.