My Point . . And I Do Have One, I Think . . .

- A favorite blogger this morning talked about why liberals have a hard time hearing what conservatives have to say about health care. "The problem for people who hate Obama's agenda is that some of us never showed zeal for the poor, and Obama did." I stand accused. I have certainly had compassion for the poor without healthcare . . . but zeal I have had not. But I believe that God instills in us "zeal specialties". And I do have zeal for the poor and uneducated.

- Our church in NJ had a relationship with a great organization called Urban Promise that ministered in Camden (one of the armpits of the country, for those of you who don't live in the Philly area). Urban Promise ran a high school that, when I first heard it described, sounded to me like a place where kids were taught like homeschoolers, just by people other than their parents and outside of their home. Upon learning more, my first impression wasn't completely accurate, but I still love that idea. A school that homeschools . . .

- Our friends, the Hernandezes, have their children in a classical Christian academy in NJ. I love a lot of things about the classical education movement. This particular academy starts teaching Latin in the second grade, which puts kids at a disadvantage if they start attending in 3rd grade or later. To make up for this, they offer a class in the summer called Latin In A Week. It catches kids up on a year's worth of Latin in an intense one-week course -- a course which, apparently, is not only quite effective but very enjoyable for the kids who take it. I always wanted to sit in on that class (or actually, to take it) to see how they do that. I can see a lot of application for such a concept . . .

- My experience homeschooling my girls has gotten me very interested in learning styles -- or, even more interested than I already was. One of the many big disadvantages of the school environment as we do school in the U.S. is that it is so difficult to accommodate the individual differences of students in learning style, and pace, and interests, and motivations. They are factories -- one size fits all. They standardize education -- and honestly, who wants our children to be standardized?

- I saw an article online the other day about a college professor who scrapped ABCDF grades for his classes. He modeled his new "grading system" on popular computer games (of which I am generally ignorant). You started out with zero points, and as you acquired skills and experience in the course of the class, you moved up to different levels and titles. How cool is that? Seriously! For some subjects, that makes significantly more sense -- I mean, what exactly does it mean to say your kid got a C+ in 2nd grade math anyway?


Yes, this train of thought is going somewhere. The question is, do I have the courage to hop on for the ride . . .

But What Did You Learn?

Leslie got her 3rd quarter report card today. A in Science, B+ in Mod Tech. I'm proud, of course. Especially since through most of her Mod Tech class, she didn't have any idea what she was doing.

I asked her today what she thought she had learned in science this year. She thought a while and said she knew she had learned some new things, but it was all muddled in the back of her mind somewhere and she couldn't pull it out on demand. Hmmm. If that means that it is knowledge that will surface when it's necessary, I guess I'm okay with that.

What I was wondering was, how would I feel about her getting an A in a class in which she felt like she didn't learn anything? I mean, I certainly remember classes in middle and high school where I didn't learn anything -- or, at least, anything that stuck. Does it matter now that I got an A in the class? I guess in high school, any A boosts your GPA, which is important for getting into college.

But this is kind of my point. Why should colleges care what grade I got in a class where I didn't learn anything? Isn't learning the whole point of school?

My last couple years teaching high school English, I completely redid my grading system. I got tired of my honors students who focused all their energy on racking up points and disengaged entirely once they had the points to get the grade they wanted. I knew they weren't learning -- they knew they weren't learning -- they were simply very adept at playing the school game.

Until I changed the rules. I set before them the major objectives of the class: demonstrate a thorough understanding of this novel, write an effective persuasive essay, etc. If they wanted an A, B, or C in the class, they had to meet every objective. Some of the objectives could be met in a variety of ways. You could show me you understood Of Mice and Men by writing an essay . . or taking a test . . . or discussing the book with me one-on-one after school. I had one girl draw this amazing mural that showed beyond any doubt that she understood that book inside and out. Fabulous!

You wouldn't believe the crap I got from students about this grading system. Agreed, it was a new system and had kinks I was still working out. But mainly, they couldn't get by with doing the minimum anymore. They had to actually meet the course objectives -- they had to learn something -- or they got a D. They hated it.

Frustrating that our top tier of students should find such an expectation to be so odious.

Ain't No Grave . .

No-o-o grave gonna hold my spirit down.
Ain't no gra-a-ave hold my spirit down. (Newsboys)

We watched a Nooma video in our small group Tuesday about the life/death cycle. How death feeds life. Decaying organic matter becomes fertilizer for plants to grow. Plants die -- or give up parts of themselves to die -- to be food for animals and for us. Dying to self makes way for life in Christ. Death to life. Old to new. One thing must die for another to live. It was an appropriate message for going into Easter week.

I feel like I've been trapped in the dying part of that cycle for a quite a while. Winter, of course -- and a really awful winter at that. Sleep deprivation. Grumpiness of family members. Frustration with people and schedules. Dryness of creativity. Loss of motivation. I've even been suffering from a minor medical condition this week (one too icky to expound upon here -- and nothing for any of you to worry about).

But this morning, I experienced a momentary spark of new life. The sun is shining. There are blades of green grass starting to appear in the lawn. The flowers the cast gave me after the play last week are blooming pink and lovely. And the CD in the van started playing the defiant rockin' song I quoted above. No grave gonna hold my spirit down.

I'm determined to choose new life today. I've had a miserable winter . . but Sunday is a'comin'. I'm throwing off the graveclothes. Death gives way to life. These momentary sorrows will only be fodder for the joy to come -- for what Satan meant for evil, the Lord will turn into good! Do I hear an "Amen", brothers and sisters??

Lord knows, they'll never keep me in the ground --
Ain't no gra-a-ave hold my spirit down!

Please Hurry

A friend just posted a verse on her Facebook status: Isaiah 40:17. So I looked it up.

Yet I am poor and needy;
May the Lord think of me.
You are my help and my deliverer;
O my God, do not delay.

Spoke my heart in a lot of ways this morning. But the last line particularly struck me: O my God, do not delay.

I'm quite the preachy one. Well, maybe not always preachy, but definitely teachy. Intellectual. The head knowledge. I can usually give a decent answer to most faith queries, whether my answer is valid or not. (I was reminded in my small group study last night that it's better to admit you don't know something than to spit out a bunch of baloney that sounds like you do.)

My usual response to why God hasn't acted on some problem yet (like, say, my sleep issues) is that God's timing is always right. He's never too late; we just need to be patient. And I do believe that -- that isn't just baloney I spit out.

But this passage reminded me that even though I can trust God's timing, there's no reason I can't ask him to please hurry. I think he wants to hear such passionate requests from us. Like my husband, who I'm sure is always anxious to see us at the end of his work day, and who knows we're anxious to see him . . . but I bet he still likes to hear me ask him to "Hurry home!"

So, Lord, I know you know the desires of my heart. And I know you will accomplish these things when the time is right. But I'm still pleading with you . . . do not delay!!!!

Show Day!

It's Show Day. 3pm and 7pm performances today of "Pilgrim's Progress". I've been praying for cloudy skies so the sanctuary we're performing in would be dark for the afternoon matinee. Now, we have an inch or two of snow falling. Apparently, I'm a righteous woman, for my prayers availeth much! :)

Kind of feeling in a weird state this morning. Not crazy anxious, just jittery. Glad I have picking up to do in the house before everyone comes over for the cast party between shows. I don't think it would do well for me to sit and think.

I'm considering my pep talk for the troops this afternoon. About nerves. Nerves, you know, are a physiological phenomenon. Your brain recognizes a possible threat and signals to your bodily functions to rev up a bit, get the blood pumping to the muscles and the brain so they're ready to respond. But if they get revved up too much, the opposition occurs -- you freeze up.

And what controls whether or not it gets that far is your thinking. Philippians 4 tells us to "be anxious for nothing", but take everything to God is prayer. But then it continues to say, "Whatever is true, whatever is noble . . right . . pure . . lovely . . admirable . . excellent or praiseworthy, think on these things." We take our fearful thoughts to God and put them in his lap, but we have to also then replace them with truth -- positive truth.

I believe that God already has figured out what he's going to accomplish through this play. I pray that some of that is being accomplished in the hearts of the kids. But also, maybe there's a woman coming today who needs to be reminded that the "Key of Promise" from God can free her from the dungeon of the "Giant Despair". Maybe there's a man coming who has felt burdened with having to perform his way into the "Celestial City" who will hear today that "the King already forgave you for all that, way back at the cross" -- and finally believe it. Maybe there's a child who won't get any of the meaning here, but will remember the story for years -- and God will bring a line or a character or a moment to their mind when they need it thirty years from now.

Whatever God has to accomplish, he's already at work . . . preparing hearts, opening schedules, clearing snowy roads. Whatever minor mistakes we make today can't thwart the work of God. We do our best, pray that it's blessed, and Jesus takes care of the rest.

What a privilege to be used as the hands and feet and voice of God in this way! This is why I do drama ministry!

Change Is A'Coming

We here in Iowa have had snow on the ground since the beginning of December. I mean, serious snow -- a foot deep with 3-4 foot high drifts, never melting for three months straight. We have been longing and longing for the snow to go away. Only a couple weeks ago did it warm up enough for it to start gradually melting. And there was much rejoicing.

Well, perhaps not "much" rejoicing. Because the snow left behind it mud. It also has rained off and on for a lot of the past couple weeks, and there's been very little sunshine, so the ground is saturated. The grass we thought would look so glorious to us is matted down and mushy -- almost moldy looking in places. Everything is brown and soppy and gross. Even the remaining piles of snow (yes, there are still many) are grungy with dirt. It's just hard to face the world with a smile when you're surrounded by such dreariness.

This morning when Eastin and I left the house to walk to the bus stop (OK, there's a positive -- it is warm enough to walk to the bus stop again), we just happened to step out of the house just as a huge flock of geese was flying overhead. (I assume they were geese from the honking.) And I mean a HUGE flock. One V-formation after another spread from east to west as far as we could see (which in Iowa is a long ways), and more kept coming up behind us. We watched the formations shifting shape as they moved northwest. OH, people . . . it was breathtaking. Even Eastin got choked up: "I need a tissue!" And I took the opportunity to teach her a little Yiddish. I'm all ferclempt!

So, perhaps winter really is ending. This may be the most anticipated spring I've ever known.

Another "Duh"

One of the fascinating things I remember learning about childhood development when my girls were little was how is happens in spurts. A child may struggle for months with matching her ABCs with their respective sounds . . and then out of nowhere, something clicks and within a few days, she is reading real picture books . . and then she may stay at that stage for several more months . . . and then she gets a hold of the right book that inspires her and she's reading chapter books in a few weeks . . .

And this is all quite normal. Cognitively, physically, and probably in every other way, we develop not at a continuous steady pace, but in fits and starts. In fact, I bet we probably still grow that way as adults; it's just not as obvious as it is in the tiny years.

Given this fact, am I the only one who finds it absolutely astonishing and completely idiotic the way we run our schools? Education folk talk themselves blue in the face about individual differences -- yet we still expect all children at age 9 or 10 to be in "4th grade" (some abstract label we give to kids who are about age 9 or 10) doing "4th grade math" (whatever that is) and reading at the "4th grade level" (whereever that is). And their success or failure in "4th grade" (again, what is that exactly???) is determined by their mastering this arbitrary set of skills and information bits that somebody somewhere has decided is what every child should be learning when they are 9 or 10, and in the 4th grade.

Idiotic. Completely.

For a few years now, my mind has been envisioning a school that scraps the whole grade level notion (such a stupid construct anymore) and allows children to acquire the skills and information they need at the pace -- and in the manner -- in which it works for them. To me, this is absolutely a "duh" thing. Why have schools not done this before now? Yes, it would be an administrative challenge, but we've certainly tackled worse.

An FB friend introduced me to a blog written by a high school history teacher in Jersey -- a teacher who seems to be of the same mindset as I about such matters. And he has given me a term for what I have been imagining: differentiated learning. I don't think this is a new term -- but actually accomplishing this in our schools would be a new thing.

And it seems to me, if the United States really wants to remain the "leader of the free world", it would be a critical thing.