Story and Being Human: Imago Dei

In a quiet moment last night with my hubby and youngest, I sat looking at our bookshelves upstairs. We have bookshelves in many places in our house, but these particular shelves have my daughters' old books. Some that they read on their own after they became independent readers, but many that hubby and I read to them at bedtime over many, many years of their childhood.

Oh, the books. Oh, the memories!

Narnia and the Pevensies. Laura and Mary in their Little Houses with Ma and Pa. All the American Girls. Junie B. Jones (the B. stands for Beatrice, but she just likes B and that's all). Anne of Green Gables, the whole series. The Magic Tree House. The Babysitter's Club. All sorts of Dear America history books. Charlotte's Web. Stuart Little. The Mandie series they got from their older cousin.

Oh, I wanted to go back. For a moment, I wanted to be sitting on a bed with one of their heads lying on my chest reading about Aslan singing the world of Narnia into being. I'll be sharing that book with my 6th graders this fall, but no -- it's not the same standing at the front of a classroom as it is snuggling at the head of a bed.

One of the greatest blessings of homeschooling was all the reading I got to do with my daughters. They did read on their own, but I also read literature aloud to them, stuff that was a step above their independent reading level to move them forward. I remember reading Julius Caesar with my eldest when she studied the Roman Empire in fifth grade or so, skipping a few unimportant scenes, stopping to explain stuff as we went, but reveling in the language and reciting my favorite speech of Antony's with mucho gusto. To this day, she claims that Shakespeare is one of her favorite writers.

An article I just read yesterday reiterated what I have heard and known for many years: one of the best things we can do to help our children write better is spend years reading high quality literature aloud to them. Let them hear the rhythm of mature language so they can replicate it naturally.

But reading high quality literature to them is also one of the best things we can do just to help them live better -- to help them become truly Human. The root of the word "educate" means "to draw out." We often think of schooling as a matter of pouring information into someone's head, but no -- it's a matter of drawing out of them what is there so that they can use it well. Which means something has to be in there to be drawn out.

Now, I believe there is a core of "knowing" that God has already instilled in us. It's a part of our being made in God's image. What is lacking is a "language" to couch our knowing in. Does that make sense? There are a lot of things I know, in a sense, but until I draw it out, until I can explain it in words, it is of no use to me. Most of those are spiritual things; thus, they are the most critical things to be educated in.

And this is where stories come in. Stories are a vehicle of knowing. Ideas and concepts can be communicated through story sometimes far more effectively than through exposition. Those inner things we know from God but cannot yet use can become accessible to us through narrative.

When I read about Laura's relationship with her Pa, it rings true in my soul, because somewhere in my soul, I already know about the security of a father's love, whether I have a father or not.

When I read about Anne breaking her slate over Gilbert's head, it rings true in my soul, because somewhere in my soul, I already know the extent of humanity's foolish pride, whether I'm conscious of my own or not.

When I read of Aslan's death on the Stone Table, it rings true in my soul, because somewhere in my soul, I already know the nobility of and need for sacrifice, whether I recognize my personal need for it or not.

Man has always told stories -- around the campfire, in books, on screens, on stages, in poetry, in song, always and everywhere. Jesus himself told stories to communicate the truths he has to tell us. When I teach my students about the story elements and the plot chart and such, I emphasize to them that this isn't stuff that people made up. We write stories that way because that's how God created story to be. That's how He made our story run. When we tell a good story well, we're imitating God. Imago dei.

Read to your kids people. Read to yourselves now. Read. Read. Read.

Reading "The Hiding Place"

One of the things about teaching English is that you have to read all of the books you assign to your students. And when I'm in the first year of teaching four different levels of English (6th, 7th, and 8th grade at my school, and my 10th grade daughter and a couple of her friends at home), that means I have to do a lot of reading to keep up.

My daughter and her friends were assigned – by me – the autobiography The Hiding Place to read a couple months ago. If you're not familiar with Corrie ten Boom or her story, you really must read this. She and her Dutch family were sent to a concentration camp (where her father and sister died) because they hid Jews from the Nazis in a secret room in their home, along with a great deal of other dangerous work they did for the Underground in the Netherlands.

I mainly chose this book for the kids because I wanted them to read at least one biography/autobiography this year, and they covered the Holocaust in history that month, so it seemed appropriate. (Yes, my daughter also read Night by Elie Weisel, in case you literature buffs are wondering. She wrote a fascinating essay comparing the two stories: how Elie lost his faith in the camps while Corrie found hers.) And I constantly heard great things about Corrie ten Boom and her book when I was a child.

The hidden room in the ten Boom house.

So, of course, I had to read it first. And now I understand what the fuss was about.

Oh, my gosh, this book.

I would read one chapter and then have to stop and think and pray. So many things God had to teach me through the reading of this book.

For example, I was struck by the character of Betsie, the author's sister. She was almost too good to be true. In fact, my daughter mentioned that she thought it was a good thing Corrie wrote the book and not Betsie because the reader could relate more to Corrie and her struggles and doubts. Betsie's faith was so rock solid. Her compassion, even for her enemies, was unfathomable. Upon hearing the name of the man who betrayed them to the authorities, she said, "I pray for him whenever his name comes to my mind. How dreadfully he must be suffering!"

Oh, Lord, give me Your love like that, to desire the best for others despite what they've done to me.

I will probably never forget the story of Betsie leading Corrie to thank God for the fleas in their new barracks – because scripture told them to give thanks in all things. And of course, not until much later do they find out that the fleas kept the guards from coming into their barracks, which allowed them to hold Bible studies in there, among other things. A valid reason to be thankful for them.

Lord, give me that kind of faith, that everything in my life is ordained by You and deserving of my gratitude.

While I read, I kept thinking, I could never do this. I could never be this strong or this brave. I could never put myself on the line like this. But then I read how, at the end, when she was released from the concentration camp, Corrie tried to go on working for the Underground and couldn't. She was seized with fear on her first "mission." That's when she realized that the only reason she and her family had been able to do what they had done was because God had empowered them with the strength and courage to do it. Now, He had different work for her, and so the power for this particular work was not there anymore.

Lord, help me always remember that I don't have to fear whatever trials my future may hold, because You are already empowering me to face them when the time comes. Fresh manna for each day . . . with none to save for tomorrow.

I really need to read more biographies. I never seem to put them down as the same person I was when I picked them up.

English Teacher Musings

- I posted a meme on FB a while back that has a bunch of words misspelled -- errors like "could of" instead of "could've," that kind of thing. One of my friends LOL'd it and commented that for me to read that must be like someone with perfect pitch listening to a tone-deaf person sing. Oh, my goodness . . . nailed it.

- Speaking of memes, my husband and I were just commenting on that word yesterday: meme. What a weird word it is. Wondering where in the world it came from. Amazed that it has suddenly become such a commonly used term when it seemed to come out of nowhere a couple years ago.

- And not only is a texting term like "LOL" common in everyday usage anymore, but I just used it as a verb. Language evolution is fascinating.

- And speaking of language evolution, I'm going to go out on a limb and predict that the word "whom" is just going to fade away in the next hundred years or so. Someday, people will read literature and documents from our time and react to the word "whom" the way we react to the word "thou." What does that mean? Why did people talk so weird back then? Old English -- pah.

- I rarely get to choose the literature I teach in my English classes, and I've decided I don't really want that responsibility. Do you know how much literature there is out there? Good, meaningful, influential, classic literature? A whole heck of a lot. Even though I'm given the curriculum to teach at my school, I get to choose what my homeschooled daughter reads for English, and sometimes it's overwhelming. I want her to read everything.

- "Theme" is one of the story elements that I teach in my literature classes, and the definition we give for it is "the statement about life that an author wants to convey in his/her story." Only that's not entirely accurate . . . because sometimes the theme isn't necessarily a statement. It's just a topic. The story addresses the theme of "conformity," but the author may not be making a clear statement about that topic as much as just wanting us to think more about it. And sometimes an author writes something with no particular "theme" in mind at all -- just writing a good story. Nevertheless, if it is a good story, we readers find a theme. Because this is one of the aspects of our being made in the image of God -- this ability and need to search for meaning.

- I emphasized (with italics) the modifier good with regards to a story. Not all stories are good. And by that, I don't mean that not all stories are entertaining or enjoyable. Those factors are a matter of personal preference, really. But I think we can come up with criteria for what makes a story good, or at least better than another. I don't know what that definition is . . . but I heard one a while back that I thought was a good start to the conversation anyway: good stories, even if they are fictional stories, are TRUE. They express truth. They show us truth. Even if that truth is the ugliness of reality.

- Good stories must have some universal appeal about them, too. Something that rings true in all people, whatever culture they come from.

- An old friend once talked about a play (and therefore, a story) having value if there is a redemptive quality to it. I like that, too.

- When I taught public school twenty-some years ago, every year, I had some smart aleck kid who would declare that literature can mean anything you want it to mean. This declaration usually came sometime in January or February, which was handy because it would be cold enough for me to have my winter coat in the classroom. I would ask my students what color my coat was. Some would say green, some blue, some greenish-blue, some blueish-green, some teal, some aqua . . . we even sometimes discussed how next to a blue wall it would look more green and next to a green wall it would look more blue. I explained to them that any of those answers could be correct, depending on your perspective, your background, your prior knowledge and vocabulary . . .

But if anyone said my coat was hot pink, that was WRONG. Just because there may be more than one acceptable answer to a question doesn't mean any answer is acceptable.

And yes, that shut the smart alecks up, believe it or not. I should've kept that coat just for those purposes. Too many smart alecks in our world need shutting up.

Legal Homeschooling

Because I'm back to homeschooling in the fall, and because I don't feel I've got a complete grip on the ins and outs of homeschooling through high school, and because I haven't been to a homeschool convention in many years (and because I'm one of those weirdos that really enjoys things like homeschool conventions), I went to the FEAST homeschool convention this weekend here in San Antonio.

And because I'm new to Texas, one of the workshops I attended was the one about Homeschooling and the Law in Texas. I figure, I better be sure I'm legal.

This is the third state I've homeschooled in. New Jersey was amazingly hands-off about homeschooling -- there were really no regulations of any kind, essentially. I kept hearing about the overbearing, overwhelming regulations in next-door Pennsylvania and thanking my lucky stars I didn't live there.

Iowa was something in between. We had to "register" with the local school district every year, and we had to do something every year to give evidence that our students were progressing (standardized tests, portfolio . . . I paid a woman to come in and check on us once a quarter . . . she was nice and it was easy). The cool thing in Iowa was that, in our district anyway, we were able to participate in just about anything in the public schools we wanted to sign our kids up for. My youngest took violin lessons. My oldest was "dual enrolled" for eighth grade, going to the public middle school for science and the "exploratory" class with a quarter each of art, music, etc.

Texas seems to be about as free as New Jersey. The workshop speaker said the only requirements to homeschool in Texas (where a homeschool is considered the equivalent of a private school) is that you use a curriculum and that you are making "bona fide" progress in that curriculum. I asked him about that, because I am an English teacher and I don't purchase an English curriculum for my kids -- I know what they need to learn. He said that is fine. I just need to be able, if asked sometime, so produce something that shows what I'm covering and something that proves I've been covering it.

I'm not gonna lie: it is really nice to live in a state where you have so much freedom in your homeschool. But I'm also not gonna lie about this: I'm not completely comfortable with the idea of homeschoolers having such little oversight. I mean, I know I'm going to teach my children well -- and I know when I find I'm not doing a good job, I'm going to look for someone to do a better job (I've already hired a woman to do biology labs with my daughter next year because I know myself better than to believe I'm going to navigate that road successfully).

And the truth is, I have not personally known any homeschool parent who would ever have shirked their duty toward their children in homeschooling. This is a huge commitment; nobody is going to take it on who isn't going to take it seriously.

Except the really rare, really messed-up people out there. And there are a few. And a part of me still believes that the state has a stake in making sure children are protected from neglectful and abusive parents, whether they neglect to feed them or neglect to educate them.

Our workshop speaker gave a bit of the history of homeschooling in Texas. In the 80s, it was illegal to homeschool in the state, period (as it was in much of the country). He related stories of families at that time who did "CPS drills" in their school day. The kids knew when the doorbell rang, they had to pick up their books, go to mom and dad's closet, and sit in there quietly with the lights off and door shut until mom came to say the coast was clear.

Now, as grateful as I am for the pioneers of that period who went through great struggles to give me the freedom to educate my children that I enjoy today, I was uncomfortable with these stories. If it was illegal to homeschool, why were they homeschooling? I expect their answer was that they felt called of God to do it, and their obedience to God trumps their obedience to the state. And even though I don't see a biblical requirement to homeschool (certainly a case to be made for it, but not a requirement), I guess I'd have to accept that answer from those law-breaking pioneers.

Mainly because I anticipate situations coming up when Christians (maybe even I myself) will be called by God to obey in a way that the laws of the land forbid. And I anticipate there will be other Christians arguing with them (or me) that such a reading of the Bible is ridiculous. (I already get those comments now.)

And if obeying my God means breaking the law, paying fine, going to jail, or doing "CPS drills" to protect my kids, I guess that's what I will do. Just like marriage vows . . . the commitment I made many years ago to submit to my Lord doesn't get revoked when obedience gets hard.

History Objectives -- Because They MATTER

Next year, I'm in charge of my daughter's history instruction. I could just buy a curriculum, but I know myself: I would get annoyed at what I don't like about it and only end up using about half of it, doing the rest myself anyway. I'm too frugal to spend my money on something I'm not going to use well.

Thus, my inclination is to come up with something myself. Cuz I'm one of those arrogant teaching types who always thinks she can do it better and that's just what I do.

So, as I'm considering next year, I'm doing the Good Teacher thing and starting with my objectives. What are the specific things I want my daughter to come out of her history class knowing and doing? (And may I pause and mention that the Good Teacher thing of establishing and teaching to OBJECTIVES is something that more teachers need to do? But I digress.)

And this is the rub for history, because there is so darn much to know!! I mean, history, people. It's been going on for a long, long time. A lot of stuff has happened. I can't expect her to learn it all! So, how do I narrow down to what, specifically, she needs to know to get "credit" for a "World History II" class at a high school level?

Well, for me, one of the first objectives would be that she can place major historical events on a general timeline. The industrial revolution happened in the 19th century (not in the Middle Ages). The Civil War happened in the 1860s (not in the 1680s, before the U.S. was even a country). World War 2 happened after World War 1 and the Great Depression and before the Cold War, and they all happened in the 20th century. That right there would put her ahead of much of the general population.

Secondly, I want her to be able to give a good general description of what those major historical events were about. Not every detail -- not a bunch of names and dates, necessarily -- but a decent-sized essay's worth of information explaining the important things about that event. Enough that, if the topic were to come up in conversation, she would be able to follow what someone is saying. Or if a show comes on TV about the event, she knows enough to be able to understand what's going on and fit new information from the show into the paradigm she already has.

Third, I want her to know the relationships between events. What connections might there have been between the Industrial Revolution and the Great Depression? How were World War 1 and World War 2 similar and different? These discussions are important because this is where we learn the lessons from history that we need to apply to what's happening in the world today. (This is also where I feel the least knowledgeable, unfortunately . . . )

But the fourth goal is more elusive, at least for me. Actually, it's more time-consuming, mainly. You see, history is a story. When you read a good book about the real story of a historical event or historical figure -- or when you hear a great teacher who loves her subject telling the stories of a time period -- it comes ALIVE. It becomes fascinating! And I want my daughter to be fascinated by history. But as much as I enjoy history, I am not informed enough to be that great teacher, and while we will read books, I don't know if we will have time to read enough to really light that spark.

I'm thinking I will require her to pick at least two topics to really dig deep on. Get to know all the major characters. Look at all the details. She read Bill O'Reilly's Killing Lincoln this semester for her independent reading selection in English, and she said it was probably the best book she's ever read. I know that's because it met this fourth objective.

Is it weird that I love having these conversations with myself? What are my objectives . . . how will I meet them . . . man, I eat this stuff up.

My Grammar Curriculum . . . the One I Should Write

I shared a video on Facebook yesterday about a school in Atlanta called Ron Clark Academy. In the video, teachers are leading their students to sing and dance through their lessons . . . walking on the tables . . . stuff like that.

If I really felt the freedom to do it, that's how I would teach. Especially when I teach stuff I love, like grammar. I taught a K-2 grammar class in our co-op where we sang and did hand rhymes and played games. Those games and songs are why my daughters are grammar gurus like me -- why my eldest used to re-explain the grammar lessons to her classmates in high school who weren't getting it from the teachers' instruction.

I LOVE TEACHING GRAMMAR. That apparently makes me some kind of freak; it seems very few people like grammar. I love it. I love the labeling, the analyzing -- I love that there are right answers and I can figure it out. It appeals to many aspects of my personality as well as to my love of words.

I just recently had a conversation with our school's new principal and new academic dean about how I would change the teaching of grammar at my school. And it led me to come home and type up my ideas to give them. Because there are SO MANY THINGS I would change about how grammar is taught -- not just at our school, but pretty much everywhere.

Teach grammar through games. There are so many games -- like "The Minister's Cat" -- that are fun just in themselves but help a kid develop an inner sense of how language works. There are certain words you can use to describe the cat (those are adjectives), and there are other words that don't work. You have to understand in your gut the jobs that words are doing in a sentence before you can label them or analyze them.

Teach grammar through songs. And hand rhymes and chants. Anything rhythmic and easy to memorize. This year, I taught my 7th graders songs to remember the definitions of adjectives and adverbs ("Adverbs tell us how, where, when, or to what extent . . . "). When they needed to remember, I saw them mouthing the words to the song. If they had learned a song like that in 2nd grade, they wouldn't still be needing to mouth the words to themselves -- they would just know it.

Teach grammar through colors. In homeschool, we assigned certain marker colors to certain parts of speech and the girls wrote sentences on the whiteboard with different colors for every word. A visual aid to solidify in their minds what the words are doing in the sentence.

And teach grammar through other visual aids. I told my classes this year that modifiers (adjective, adverbs, prepositional phrases) are like sprinkles. Nouns and verbs are like ice cream and cones -- you have to have ice cream and a cone to make an ice cream cone. Sprinkles, on the other hand, are not required, but they add sparkle and flavor to the cone. You can sprinkle as many as you want on wherever you want them.

I want to write a grammar curriculum. Grammar is so easy to understand if it is taught well. Someday, when I have a reason to . . .

Stop Riding on a Flat Tire

We had a speaker at our teacher meeting yesterday who talked about helping students with "learning difficulties": ADD, dyslexia, sensory processing problems, etc. It was a VERY valuable in-service.

One of the points he made that really stuck with me: those of us who are good teachers tend to find ways to accommodate these difficulties. Like . . . we allow a student extra time to take a test . . . or to have the test read aloud to them . . . or to type an assignment instead of hand-writing it. Ways to help their learning continue despite the problem. All well and good. Except that when they're in the real world, college professors and employers don't make such accommodations. You can't just "accommodate" these learning difficulties for the rest of your life, and why would you if there's a way to fix them?

He equated it to pushing a child on a bicycle that has a flat tire. They may ride that bike like a boss, but once you let go, they will crash. You  push them for a while so they get their bike-riding skills down, but at some point, you also have to stop and fix that flat tire, or your efforts are a waste.

I've realized this for a while in my homeschooling. When my youngest was in kindergarten or so, I subbed in her Sunday School class one week and was able to observe her in a "school" setting. It was fascinating. She knew she had to sit still and be quiet -- and the energy it took for her to do that left her with nothing to absorb anything that the teacher said. It was one or the other: sit quietly or understand the lesson. There was no hope of doing both.

So when we homeschooled, I recognized that I had to work on those two tasks separately. When I had content to teach her (2 + 2 = 4), I let her be up and moving and loud and whatever she needed to do or be. But then we worked on her ability to sit quietly when necessary as a separate skill. I didn't make her do both at once until she was better at both of them.

And by the grace of God, my now almost-fifteen-year-old is quite capable of sitting quietly and learning at the same time. Praise Jesus.

So last night and this morning, I found myself struggling with my own "mental difficulties": I can't control the thoughts that roam through my brain. I want to turn them off to go to sleep . . . and they come back. I want to pray about something specific . . . and other thoughts invade my prayers. I need to think about a lesson I'm writing . . . and thoughts about a different problem disrupt me.

And I remembered that speaker yesterday and considered, maybe instead of just getting annoyed with myself that this keeps happening, and letting my sleep be interrupted, and letting my prayers be disturbed, and letting my work be prolonged and weakened . . . maybe I need to fix that flat tire and teach myself the skill of controlling my thoughts.

I mean, I keep telling my daughter with the anxiety problems that it really is possible to do control one's thoughts. Just because my own uncontrolled mind doesn't dramatically debilitate me as it does others like her doesn't mean it's not worth the effort to fill that gap in my cognitive functioning. Right?

Right. Yeah, I need to look into that seriously. Why keep making accommodations if there is a solution to the problem?

That Was One Weird Gift

My friend Julie gave me a surprise birthday party the summer before my senior year, and my friend Kevin gave me a weird gift. Kind of a cool gift, but kinda weird, too. Weird on many levels.

First of all, it was "wrapped" in leg of jeans. He cut the leg off of an old pair of jeans, put the gift inside, and sewed up both ends. I had to cut the jeans to get the gift out. Creative . . . funny! . . . but very weird.

Then, the item I actually fished out of the denim was a decorative wooden box, about seven inches square. Very pretty . . . but I wasn't sure what to think of this. I mean, yeah, it was pretty, but why exactly was he giving me this box? Was it, like, a jewelry box? Was there some meaning behind it? Was it a joke gift? It's not really the kind of thing a boy gives a 17-year-old girl that's his good buddy. I turned it over in my hand a few times wondering how to respond to this -- and getting no clue from everyone around me who seemed as stumped as I was.

"Open it!" Kevin said. Whew! I thought. There's something inside! Now it'll make sense. So I opened the lovely box and found, lying on a pile of potpourri, a sea horse skeleton.

Yes, an actual skeleton of a sea horse. And again, I was stumped.

Because again -- it was kinda cool, but kinda weird. Very delicate and fascinating, but also rather creepy. And again -- who gives this kind of thing to a 17-year-old girl that's your good buddy? Where in the world do you even find a sea horse skeleton anyway? And again, nobody around me was sure what to think of this gift either.

You see, Kevin was kinda like that -- cool, but different. He grinned enthusiastically and gushed about the thing: "See? It's a sea horse! Isn't it awesome?" I wasn't sure if he really meant that or if he wanted us to get the joke and crack up. If he was sincere, I didn't want him to feel bad that we thought his amazing, unique gift was a joke. But if it was a joke, I didn't want him to feel bad that it fell flat. I was totally stumped.

I'm still stumped. I have no clue why Kevin gave me a sea horse skeleton for my 17th birthday.

But you know what? I kept that thing for years. Kept it in the jeans for a long time, but after a while, I tossed the leg of jeans and just kept the box, on a shelf with other decorative items in the house. The potpourri dried up, but the sea horse still lay on it inside.

And guess when I needed that sea horse? When I was homeschooling.

During our study of the ocean, I pulled out that box and showed my girls the skeleton of the sea horse and they ooohed and aaahed to beat the band. For that morning, I was the coolest homeschool mom in the county to have an actual SEA HORSE sitting in a potpourri box on my shelf.

So, there you go, Kev. Thanks for that moment of glory! I'm sure that's what you had in mind way back in the summer of '85.

My Crowded Mind

I'll be blunt: I have nothing profound to say today. If it weren't for the fact that I try to make writing a discipline and I've been lax on that discipline in the last couple weeks, I wouldn't even attempt a blog post today at all.

One reason I have nothing profound to say is because I have so many different strands of thought going in my mind right now that none of them can dip very far beneath the surface to find deep connections in my psyche. Wanna hear about all those strands? Sure you do.

- The Film Festival -- which I wrote about last post. Still going through tomorrow. The director of a local homeschool theater company jokingly suggested that I should teach a film-making class this summer since I'm all excited about the concept now. Which really was a joke. Until I thought about it more. And now I'm actually stupid enough to be considering the idea seriously. (Just what makes me think I can teach a film-making class? I have no idea. But, you know, I asked myself the same question in the middle of directing my first play . . . "What made you think you could do this??" And yet I did it.)

- The School Play -- which I am directing. This project has been a challenge on many levels. Many beginner actors. Very little rehearsal time. Limited storage for props and costumes. Little to no access to our actual performance space until the final dress rehearsal. So many details . . . it seems like this play is on my mind at some level 24/7. Two weeks from today is performance day . . .

- School Next Year -- I wrote earlier about how my daughter's high school is not continuing and we're trying to start a homeschool co-op. Lots of research and thought and planning going into that. Plus, I'm teaching the English for that co-op . . . even more research and thought and planning. And I'm starting to wonder if I just want to do the history myself, also. (Believe it or not, I may prefer that to hunting down and paying for a curriculum that I may not end up liking.) Always on the brain . . .

- Grammar -- I offered to help the school come up with a new grammar curriculum for the whole school -- because what they do now isn't working well. And because I love grammar. So, I will find myself at times just thinking through grammar concepts, and ways to teach them, and what needs to be taught before what, and on and on . . .

- Launching the Eldest -- My older daughter has a lot of significant things happening in her life right now. She's doing a College Plus program called Navigate that is supposed to help her find focus and direction for her life. She's getting ready to start classes at St. Philip's College in the fall. She's buying a car (well, we will own it, but we're walking her through the gruntwork of the purchase). She's looking for a job. She's getting ready for her boyfriend to possibly move to San Antonio in a couple months. And in all of this, she needs our support and guidance.

- Curriculum Writing -- The company for whom I write Bible study guides just sent me transcripts of the DVDs for my next assignment, a Bible study over the Song of Solomon. I have five weeks to write leader guides for six sessions. Scripture about loving God, His loving us, etc. etc. . . .

- Summer Drama Camps -- The afore-mentioned homeschool theater director asked if I'd be willing to teach any other drama camps this summer. So, the idea of a two-week performance camp for elementary kids is also shaping in my mind . . .

- Junior High English Classes Next Year -- I will still be teaching junior high literature at Summit Christian Academy next year, and occasionally thoughts about those classes start floating through my head . . .

- English Classes THIS Year -- And this school year isn't over yet: Don Quixote and Tale of Two Cities are still on my plate before summer break, among other things.

- Driver's Ed -- for the younger daughter -- she's itching to start.

- Bible Study Fellowship -- still have to keep up with this. (And I'm bracing myself to be asked to be a group leader in the fall . . . can I really add that to the pile?)

- Prayer List -- there are several people I've felt strongly convicted to pray for that God keeps bringing up at random moments . . . Now -- they need you to lift them up right now . . . 

- Birthdays -- both of my daughters have theirs at the end of April. Which I just remembered the other day.

AND HANGING OVER IT ALL . . .

- Tan pants. My daughter needs them. For the play. I hate clothes shopping so much, this may be the item on the list that weighs on me the most.

So there. A tour of the innards of my mind this Spring Break week. Aren't you glad you're just visiting and not living here for the duration? :)

Educating My Weird Girl

"Oh, my gosh! I LOVE standardized tests! They're, just, not like other tests. They're all multiple choice . . . and you get to fill in the answers in the little bubbles . . . and you use number two pencils . . . and they always have all these things to read, these short articles and stories, and they're so INTERESTING . . . oh, my gosh . . . I'm just, like, "OH, yeah -- I SO want to take this test!"

Believe it or not, there was not a hint of sarcasm in my daughter's voice when she said that yesterday. Just unbridled enthusiasm. Sometimes that girl is so fabulously weird, I can hardly stand it.

I may be enjoying her wonderful weirdness all the more next year. She won't be going back to her school. The board announced to the ninth grade parents that, financially, it is just not feasible for them to continue to offer high school classes right now. They're going to work on building up the student body K-8 until the numbers can support a high school.

For the school, I suppose it was the right decision. For our kids in the first SCA high school class, it means some decision-making. This group of five kids is such an amazing group -- I know because I get to teach them. We parents would love to find a way to keep them together next year.

We've talked some about doing our own little homeschool co-op . . . but only casually, we haven't had a time since the announcement to get together and talk about it officially . . . but I'm getting vibes that other families are unsure about that option . . . who knows what will happen at this point . . .

But my daughter, for her part, is ready to teach herself.

Seriously. She wants me to give her the curriculum and let her run. She was even asking the other day about the possibility of graduating early and going on to college.

And she's getting me excited about all this, too.

This is surprising to me, because I never intended to homeschool either of my girls through high school. I just didn't want to deal with the transcripts and official stuff. It all seemed too complicated and not worth my effort when there are good options out there for people who will take care of that for me.

I'm not exactly sure why my mind has changed. Maybe it's because I've been so involved in the planning for this high school program at SCA and thinking through what the students will need to do in the next four years. Now that I've done that thinking, my brain is also cranking with ways my fabulously weird daughter can do all this -- ways that take advantage of her fabulous weirdness. She's unique; I'd love for her educational experience to match her uniqueness. And figuring out how to do that suddenly sounds SO exciting.

Although not as exciting as standardized tests are to her, apparently. What a wonderful weirdo. Love this kid.

What To Teach

A friend in NJ has decided to start homeschooling her children this fall (yay!) and emailed me with a plethora of questions. It was such a joy to answer those questions for her! I remember when I started out, how foreign it all seemed and how unsure I was . . . to now have the experience to help others feels so good.

One of her questions was, “How do you know what you should be teaching?” It's kind of a funny question, really. I mean, we all went through school, right? We all know what we were taught, right? We all know what we adults know that our kids don't know, right? It's understandable that we'd be concerned with how to teach something, but it seems like the what should be obvious to us. But honestly, I am asked this question all the time.

I think most people that ask this are concerned with making sure kids are “on grade level”. Everyone learns about birds in second grade, so I need to make sure I teach them about birds in second grade. Everyone learns their multiplication tables in third grade, so I need to teach multiplication in third grade. And so on and so forth.

But the whole concept of being “on grade level” is silly. Educational research is quite clear: kids pick up different skills at different ages. Some kids learn to read at age 3 or 4; for some, reading never clicks until age 10 or 11. And all of those kids are normal. No learning disabilities involved here – just natural differences. Those kids who start reading later usually catch up to the others within a year or so and can be quite successful in their education . . . as long as they haven't been made to feel stupid by that point and given up on learning altogether.

This is one of the biggest problems with schooling as we know it: it requires teaching kids in large groups and therefore requires that everyone learn the same thing at the same time in the same way. And that's not a criticism of teachers! MANY teachers make valiant efforts to individualize the learning that happens in their classrooms. It's just too hard to do.

But back to the original question: "How do you know what you should be teaching?" There were two resources I used a lot. The Well-Trained Mind by Susan Wise Bauer is a huge tome about doing classical education at home, and if you followed her advice down to the word, you would make you and your children insane. But it is a great overview of what kind of learning tends to happen at each developmental stage (grammar, logic, and rhetoric), and if you will take the time to pay attention to what stage your child is actually in, whatever their age, it can be very helpful. It was invaluable to me.

There's also a series of books by Kathryn Stout called Design-A-Study. As I recall, she examined curriculums used around the country in various subject areas and boiled down their "scope and sequences" to these master lists. So, for example, Science Scope lists every topic taught around the country in science and divides it up into what is generally covered in elementary, middle school, etc. Again, invaluable. I could flip through that book and see "Magnetism" . . . oh, we haven't ever talked about magnetism. That'll be our next science unit -- and here are the specific details about magnetism that I should try to cover with my youngest and a few deeper ones for the eldest.

In general, I would take these books over the summer, skim them again for the umpteenth time, and ask myself, What is the next thing in this subject that my kid is ready for? That's it. What's the next thing. Considering the big picture, which these books lay out, what piece of the puzzle does my kid need to have now to move forward.

Those who ask me this question seem so stressed about the idea. Are you kidding?  I LOVE this part of homeschooling! I LOVE studying my kids this closely. I LOVE watching them progress. I LOVE figuring out how God made my particular child and nurturing that. I'm so excited for my friend to experience this, too!

Bad Religion or Bad Science?

If you're a homeschooler or a serious science person, you were probably aware of the big evolution debate last night between Bill Nye the Science Guy and Ken Ham from Answers in Genesis. I had BSF, so I couldn't watch the debate live -- I'll be watching it today with my youngest while she's home from school.

I'm anxious to see the debate, but I'm not anxious to deal with the fall-out on both sides, because I'm confident nobody came out a clear "winner" here, as in the other person left the stage saying, "Good points, Jack -- I'm convinced."  I fear that such events only rile up each side of the argument with more ammunition to attack the other side.

And I'm tired of the attacks. I know, for all my talk, I should be prepared for people to dismiss me at best and attack me at worst because of what I believe, but it still rankles me when people who claim to be the top of the evolutionary chain of mankind behave so ridiculously.

I'm willing to concede that there are those on the creationist side who don't approach this scientifically -- they believe what they believe because it's what the Bible says and no scientific findings will convince them otherwise. But I would hope my "opponents" would concede something similar on their side: many of their people refuse to listen to anything that a creation scientist or intelligent design theorist might say simply because it smacks of a supernatural god which they refuse to believe in up front. These scientists bring up some genuine problems with the evolutionary theory, and evolutionists only weaken their stance be refusing to address those points and simply ridiculing the messenger.

The ridicule is the real problem here. There is something wrong when, the moment a scientist brings up actual scientific evidence that calls into question the validity of the theory of evolution, scientific inquiry ceases. Evolutionist scientists do not take that evidence, examine it, test it themselves, and come up with a calm rebuttal of the facts (if one can be made). They ridicule the scientist daring to go against the mainstream. They deny him tenure -- even cause him to lose his position. I've heard before that, in anonymous surveys, the vast majority of people who work professionally in a scientific field find the theory of evolution an unsatisfactory answer to the question of the origin of life . . . but if you asked your average university physics professor about it, he wouldn't say that because he knows he would immediately lose all of his professional standing, if not his job.

That's not religion gone bad. That's science gone bad.

And there is most DEFINITELY a problem when my eldest's physics teacher feels emboldened enough by the arrogant stance of his professional community to publicly shame the Christian students in his class for being stupid and ignorant and small-minded -- before they've even said a word.

That's not science. That's prejudice and boorishness, and it has no place in a classroom at any level.

Can we all at least start with the agreement that NOBODY knows for sure how life began? No evolutionist or creationist, Christian or atheist, scientist or layman. None of us were there. We all are making intelligent guesses based on what was left behind. That kind of humility really must be at the basis of any scientific inquiry if it is to have any validity at all.

Because science is about finding the truth, and truth does not need to be defended by shaming its detractors. Truth is strong enough to fight its own battles -- just let it fight.

Sacrifice is its Middle Name

Going through some old stacks of papers in storage a few years ago, I found a two-page essay I wrote in college making a vehement case against homeschooling. Oh, how far I've come since then. And the rest of society has, too. At that time, the vast majority of folks thought homeschooling was wacko. By the time I was considering it for my own daughter fifteen years later, friends I spoke to about it had varying opinions. Some thought it was a great idea; some strongly dissuaded me.

(One neighbor asked me, "Do you really think you can teach better than a professional teacher?" Well, do I think I can teach a class of second-graders better than a professional second-grade teacher can? No. But do I think I can teach my second-grade daughter at home better than a professional second-grade teacher can teach her in a classroom full of second-graders? Absolutely.)

But these days, there are very few out-and-out naysayers. Even diehard public school advocates recognize the success that homeschoolers have had over the years and acknowledge that there are cases where homeschooling is a viable option, maybe even the best option.

Yet, I still meet folks in difficult situations with their children's schooling, situations that seem to scream at them, Bring him home! Take him out of that place! . . . and they hesitate. Some of them more than hesitate -- they flat out refuse to even consider the idea.

I understand. The decision to bring my daughter home was a big one. And there have probably been people out there who have tried homeschooling and regretted it (although I've never met any -- some that decided to send their kid back to school eventually, but they still said the experience at home was a good thing).

But what concerns me is that most of these parents are not keeping their kids in school because they've considered all the options and public school came out on top. Most of them haven't even allowed themselves to seriously consider all the options -- because they're afraid of what they'll find. They're afraid to discover that the thing that's best for their kid is something that they don't want to do. A sacrifice they don't want to make.

Yes, I'm calling them selfish, but don't everybody get all offended. All parents are selfish; we just manifest it in different areas of our family life. People call me out on my selfish ways, and I'm grateful for it (eventually). So, I have no qualms about making the statement here: if your kid needs you to give up some income, career advancement, material things, and free time for a few years to give them the education they need . . . if your kid needs you to step up and try something that sounds difficult and scary to help them grow into who God made them to be . . . well, friends, that's parenting. Parenting is difficult and scary, and sacrifice is its middle name.

A Facebook friend recently posted a meme with a saying that I'd like to have tattooed inside my eyelids so I never forget it: "Great things never came from comfort zones." Parenting doesn't have a comfort zone. Mothers and fathers are always taking risks and stepping out in faith.

I always say, homeschooling is not for everyone. But if the present situation seems unliveable, maybe that's because it's not where you're supposed to be living.

School for the Young 'Un

I don't believe I've written yet about the school my youngest will be attending.

It's called Summit Christian Academy, and it is a University Model School.  This model is kind of a hybrid between homeschool and private school.  At the elementary level, students are at the school two days a week and home being taught by their parents the other three days.  Once middle school hits, that increases to three days a week in school.

There's a lot I like about this model.  I've talked to many parents over the years who really liked the idea of homeschooling but were terrified to actually be solely responsible for their child's education.  A lot of the parents I've spoken to from this school seemed to be in that camp.  This can give them the best of both worlds, in a way.

I also found that they use a lot of the same curriculum I did (or curriculum I would have chosen if I were going to spend the money on curriculum) and a similar approach to subjects that I have.  For example, for the last few years, I've combined history, literature, and writing into one big "subject" I've labeled Humanities.  They seemed to overlap so much, separating them out into individual subjects almost seemed artificial.  SCA does the same thing.

So, there's a lot about this school that I'm really excited about.  But I do have some concerns . . . or at least things that I'm anxious to see if they will work well for my kid.  The primary one: class size.  This is a relatively new school.  They started with early elementary grades and added on a grade level as the kids enrolled grew into them.  My youngest's class -- the eighth grade class -- is the new class this year.  And if she continues there, she will ultimately be in their first graduating class in 2018.  Kind of cool in a way, but it also means that she and her classmates are the guinea pigs that they're figuring everything out on. 

And it also means that her class is small.  In fact, with her, there are three.  The seventh grade class has three also (including the principal's daughter), and the two classes seem to do a lot together.  Considering that for the last three years, she's been a class of one at home, this is not as dramatic a change as you would think.  But if it turns out that she doesn't get along well with these other 2-5 kids, that could make for a miserable year.

It will also be interesting to see what her work load is like on her two days at home.  One eighth grade mom told me her daughter is done with her SCA work by noon and that she supplements with other work.  A seventh grade mom told me her son works until 4:30.  That's one of the advantages of homeschooling -- being able to adapt things to fit your kid.  I suspect my girl will need some supplementing . . . particularly in the literature area.  They do seem to be much lighter on literature than I have been, and it's important to me that my kids are well-read.

The other disadvantage of a small school: less "extras".  They're starting their first athletic program fall.  Cross country.  My daughter is participating, although after the first two practices this week, she's regretting that decision (she's not in great physical shape for this yet).  My oldest daughter's school offers a full music program, drama, yearbook, plus some media classes which my youngest would really get into -- and an athletic program that she would not.  I'm wondering if, by the end of the year, I will want my youngest to have access to all of that, too.

I'm also wondering how I will take to giving up so much control over my kids' education.  Yes, I still have more control than I would have if she were in a regular school.  I'm just spoiled now.  But who knows?  Maybe I'll get used to the burden being removed and end up liking it.

In any case, it will be an interesting year with SCA.  Classes start next Thursday. I'll fill you in as we go.  :)

Is College Worth It?

I wrote a post a while back about the idea that not everyone needs to go to college, a post that apparently got more than a few people really thinking.  Now I'm reading a book that is confirming all those thoughts again.

It's Is College Worth It?, by Bill Bennett, Reagan's former Secretary of Education.  It's a fascinating book (a little heavy on the numbers for my taste, but the numbers are necessary).  And he makes many of the same points I was making earlier, but with facts and stats to back them up (thus the burdensome numbers).  Many, many people going to college right out of high school -- about two-thirds of them, Bennett contends -- should do something else.  For a number of reasons:

- They are gifted with knowledge and skills in much-needed areas that don't require a college education (although they may require other technical training).  We have made these people feel like second-rate citizens when they are crucial parts of the fabric of society and we need them to do what they do best.  Our society and economy flounders without them there.

- A college degree is no longer the guarantee of a good job.  In fact, there are thousands of people out there with piles of student debts on their hands who are unemployed or underemployed and feeling like they were sold a bill of goods about this higher education business.  And they were.  Many  economists are predicting that college loan debt will be the next big bubble to burst and mess up the country.
 
- College is rarely worth the money you put into it now -- and Bennett blames the federal government for this.  In fact, he predicted this phenomenon back when he was Education Secretary: the government has made financial aid so easily available to every Joe on the block, regardless of Joe's chances of succeeding in college or getting a job later to pay back those loans, that the market is screwed up.  Instead of becoming more affordable, college has become less affordable . . . because colleges know that students can get the money, so they just jack up tuitions.

This discussion has become very pertinent to me lately because our eldest is a senior next year.  This is when everyone tells you you need to be visiting colleges, deciding on your top choices, sending applications in in the fall . . . but she has no bloody clue what she wants to do with her life.  And it's stressing her out.

Only recently have we finally convinced her that we're okay with that.  We have suspected for a while that whatever she ended up doing, it was not likely to require a B.A.  And we're fine with that. We're not going to feel like she's a failure (or we're failures) if she takes a gap year after high school -- or if she never ends up at college at all -- as long as she is using her gifts to God's glory.

Now to convince others of that.  I'm already bracing myself for the unspoken (and maybe even spoken) condemnation of my seven years of homeschooling with her.  That I obviously didn't instill in her the skills and knowledge and passion she needed to succeed in life.  I reject that condemnation (remind me of that when I'm hearing it).  My daughter is always stunned at the ignorance of her public school peers (You don't know what an adjective is?  And no, New England is not in Europe).  She's an excellent writer, communicator and thinker.  The passion . . . yeah, that's frustrating, but that will come when she finds her calling.

Bennett had more to say that I love . . . especially about K-12 education.  But that's for another post . . .

Sweet Gig

I've had a sweet gig here in Sioux City.  I'm in two positions where I get to write scripts that pretty much have a guarantee of being performed for an audience.  And I get to direct those scripts, so I can ensure that they are performed as close to my vision as possible.  And I get to work with actors who are enthusiastic and fun and eager to do well.  And I get to hand off the icky stuff I don't enjoy (sets, costumes, props, etc.) to someone else who does those things well and enjoys them.  Seriously, a sweet, sweet gig. 

Today ends one chapter of that gig.  My last full-length play with the FOCUS Players.  (We're doing a drama camp the first week of June, but that's something new we're trying and won't be a full-length play.)  For all I know, this may be the last full-length play I write and direct ever.  I mean, I certainly never dreamed when we came to Sioux City that God had this adventure in store for me here.  Who can imagine what he has in store for me in San Antonio?  I'm trying not to predict too much, because then I'll end up manipulating things to meet my expectations -- and God's plans always end up better than mine.

At last Tuesday's rehearsal, I was a bit worried about today's show.  My producer Kim and I have noticed that there is always a rehearsal, usually about half way through the process, when we get that panicked feeling that this is never going to come together in time.  Tuesday was that rehearsal.  And two days before dress rehearsal is not an opportune moment for that rehearsal.

But I had faith in my kids.  They are good kids.  They want to do a good show.  They knew they were weak on Tuesday, and they knew what they needed to do . . . and they did it.  Dress rehearsal yesterday raised my confidence again.  Really, I LOVE these kids.

Not that my primary goal is a great show.  That's an obvious aim, but not a primary goal.  My primary goals with the FOCUS Players are 1) that every student grow in some way during each show (in acting ability, in courage to try something new, in relationships with others); 2) that every student come away having had a good experience, even if they decide that theater is not their thing; and 3) that every student sees that drama can be an expression of worship and a means of ministry . . . and if playing pretend on a stage for applause can be worship and ministry, then so can every other gift God has given them -- mathematical ability, mechanical knowledge, people skills, fashion sense -- EVERYTHING that God has given them can and should be given back for His glory.

These are good kids.  I think they get that.  I will miss them so much.  Break a leg, my friends.  You've been a great blessing in my life.

I'd Like To Thank . . .

 . . . a few people for little things they did that make a big difference in my life.

Cindy: for homeschooling in front of me and showing me how very normal it can be – even better than “normal”.

Mike, my former boss: for standing behind me when the superintendent’s son plagiarized a paper in my class and I gave him an F.  My first step in training to do the right hard things.

Eileen: for voicing out loud in front of me her pep talks to herself on crappy days – “We must not grow weary of doing good . . . “  I will forever hear that precious verse in a Puerto Rican accent.

Randy: for saying, “I know you keep telling me you’re not a writer – and, okay, I believe you – but I would love to see you take a shot at writing one of these skits.”  There’s about fifty homeschool kids in Sioux City who’ve performed in the eight plays I’ve written for them . . . they’d like to thank you, too.

Tracy:  for being a faithful prayer warrior.  “Was there anything going on at 2:30am last night?  I got the overwhelming urge to pray for your family, so I got up and prayed.  After about an hour, I felt more peace and went to bed.  But if you ever find out what was going on at 2:30 last night, I’d love to know!”  I never found out . . . but I suspect whatever it was didn’t happen because you were a faithful guard at the watchtower.

Scott:  for telling me at a Godspell dance rehearsal in early July 2006, “You really look good tonight, Gwen!”  I know you were just being polite, but you didn't know the pit of all-consuming despair I was in that night and how healing it was for a handsome young man to tell me I looked good, just for a moment.

Thank you, friends.  I pray that I learn to be as faithful in the small things as you were.

Mastering Words

When I was teaching high school English, there were a few things that we all, in our department, knew we weren’t doing a great job of teaching.  Spelling was one.  Vocabulary was another.  Giving a list of random words to study for a week and test over at the end of the week just isn’t very effective.  While homeschooling last year, however, the IEW writing program we used included a pretty effective method of teaching vocabulary. 

And me being arrogant me, I’m convinced I can improve on it.

Here’s how I think vocabulary needs to be taught.  First of all, introduce kids to basic Latin and Greek roots.  There’s an awesome game many homeschoolers use called “Rummy Roots”.  Love it. 

But then, I think you need to teach kids one word a week – one really good, very useful vocabulary word a week.  That’s what I liked about that writing program: the vocabulary words they used were excellent words to know.  Words like “stymied”, “notorious”, “intrepid”.  Words that can be applied in many contexts.  Words that actually improve your thinking as well, because having clear, specific words to communicate specific ideas and differentiate them from similar ideas also sharpens your thinking about those ideas.  Just one word a week.

Use that word in a multitude of contexts during the week.  At home, in school, at basketball practice.  Also, require students to use the word somewhere in their writing during the week – many times, if possible.  This is another thing I like about that writing program.  Every piece of writing had to include four vocabulary words, which was not difficult because, again, these were good, quality words that can be applied in many different contexts.

So, consider:  one word a week is 36 words a year.  In three years of middle school, that would be 108 new, excellent, useful words.  Words they have already practiced incorporating into their writing and their lives and their thinking.  Words that are reinforced every year.  I would gladly take that over the time spent frantically memorizing list after list of words that are quickly forgotten because they are never used.

I like this so much, I may just employ the method for myself.  Gotta start my list of words now . . .

On Training Future Warriors

Our eldest takes the ACT in a couple months.  We’re entering a stage of parenthood that makes me quite nervous.  She’s about to make some huge decisions in her life, and she has to make them by herself . . . with us, her parents, as only a potential source of wisdom.  Scary, scary, scary.

She’s been getting mail from colleges since she took the pre-ACT at school a year ago.  I believe it is all lying unopened in a pile in the cabinet.  She doesn’t know where she wants to go, and she doesn’t know what she wants to study.  Until recently, I wondered if she even wanted to go to college.  But yesterday, at parent-teacher conferences, she was deciding between classes based on what would look good on a college application.  So, apparently post-secondary education is in her vision for her future.

If she knew that what she wanted to do in life didn’t require a degree, I’d be fine with that.  Or if she thought she wanted to take a year or two and work and figure out some direction, that would be okay, too.  I actually think most kids would benefit from a gap year, if used well.  But, still, I'd like her to go to college.  I see tremendous value in “higher education”, of course.  And so does most of American society, it seems, because we believe our government should make it possible for everyone to go, if they want to, by loaning them the money to go – or just flat out giving it to them.

Interesting thing about those federal student loans and grants.  I just ran across a quote from Reagan’s education secretary William Bennett:

“There are a lot of things wrong with American higher education, but choice isn’t one of them.  You can take a guaranteed student loan or a Pell grant and study at a Baptist college your first year, a Catholic one your second, and Hindu and Jewish ones your third and fourth years.  You’ll be theologically confused, but you’ll be entirely within the Constitution because, when it comes to federal student aid for higher education, we don’t care where you take it.”

We worry a lot about public funds going to a Catholic elementary school through vouchers.  We worry about even allowing a possibly radical religious education through a homeschool whether we’re funding it or not.  But those concerns aren’t present in higher education.  And I’m wondering if there’s some kind of odd logic behind that, or if secular progressives concerned with separation of church and state just haven’t gotten to this battle yet.

You want to know my guess?  I’m guessing there’s no battle because there’s no real battleground.  I think most religious colleges just aren’t much of a threat to a secular agenda.  And that’s a shame.  The war of worldviews gets pretty lop-sided when only one side's warriors are adequately trained.

Then again, we're studying the American Revolution and how a bunch of homegrown passionate rebels defeated the most powerful army in the world.  There's hope.

 

Disputation, a la Dr. Franklin

The youngest and I are reading The Autobiography of Benjamin Franklin.   Fascinating man, Ben.  The writing program we use is based on Franklin's method of teaching himself how to write well.  But that's a story for another post . . .

Yesterday, we read about how Ben taught himself the art of "disputation" -- that is, arguing or debating.  (Most of Ben's knowledge and skills beyond the very basics were self-taught, interestingly enough.  He apparently hated school, but once he was out, he started to see the value of knowledge and skills and acquired them on his own .  LOVE THAT.)  He says he learned the basics of how to form an argument from reading some of his father's religious books.  This fondness for disputation, he found, "is apt to become a very bad habit, making people often extremely disagreeable in company . . . Persons of good sense, I have since observed, seldom fall into it, except lawyers, university men, and men of all sorts that have been bred at Edinborough."

His technique, however, changed dramatically when he was introduced to Socrates and the method of questioning your opponent into arguing against himself.  "I found this method safest for myself and very embarrassing to those against whom I used it; therefore I took a delight in it."  Yeah, I've known young people like that.

This served to develop in him the beneficial habit of avoiding words such as certainly, undoubtedly, "or any others that give the air of positiveness to an opinion," choosing instead to say things like, it appears to me, or if I am not mistaken.  "To speak, tho' sure, with seeming diffidence," he quotes Pope, sending the youngest and I to a dictionary to look up the fabulous word "diffidence".  (We also had to look up "perspecuity" -- a Bill O'Reilly word-of-the-day if I've ever heard one.  I'll leave those for you to look up as well.  We all need to brush up on our dictionary skills once in a while.)

The chief ends of conversations, Ben tells us, are to inform or to be informed, to please, or to persuade.  And a "positive and dogmatical manner in advancing your sentiments" only gets in the way of these goals, he contends.

Such wisdom.  I think I need to read good autobiographies more often -- I always seem to get a lot out of them.