August 2008

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school

August 26, 2008 in homeschooling, learning | 5 comments

For the first time, one of my kids has started school. Granted, he’s sixteen and more than ready for this. Still, it feels like a big step.

Growing up, Henry was always happy with his status as a homeschooler. He’s a very stubborn willful independent-minded kid, and he liked how homeschooling gave him the freedom to make his own choices. He abhorred the idea of a teacher telling him what to do all day. So when he came to me one morning last November and said he wanted to go to high school, I felt I’d had the wind knocked out of me. I just didn’t see it coming.

But Henry had a lot of reasons that made sense. He didn’t want to go straight to college from homeschooling. He didn’t want to take community college courses, as many of his homeschooling friends have; he wanted to take classes with kids his own age. He wanted to be part of a community of kids, a big community of kids. Our homeschooling support group and his filmmaking workshop weren’t enough for him anymore.

Just weeks before, I’d read these two posts about what teenagers need on Brave Writer’s blog. When I read them, I had no idea how much they’d help me later. I went through a short time of mourning, in a way, for the time I thought we had left together. Then I turned my focus to Henry’s needs and we got busy.

We set about considering schools, visiting schools, making a transcript, applying. A huge process. In the end, there was only one school that Henry wanted to attend, a Catholic high school. It’s a bit less rough than the local public schools; less hardcore-academic than other local private schools. In April he was accepted as a junior transfer.

The school seems like a good fit for Henry. He was able to get into some advanced courses in the areas he’s especially interested in: English and history. And last week, when I met the Vice Principal of Academics at a parent transfer dinner, she asked about Henry’s interests. When I described what he’s been doing with filmmaking, she immediately started considering how to adapt his schedule. She made an arrangement with the Computer Arts teacher for Henry to be instructed independently, so he can work at a more advanced level. I’m impressed to see an administrator take that level of interest in a student, right from the start. (I guess all that tuition we’re paying is good for something…)

Most of my homeschooling friends have been supportive of Henry’s decision. But a few have (unintentionally, I’m sure) conveyed a slight whiff of disapproval, a subtle sense that we have somehow failed, that if we did things differently, Henry would still want to homeschool.

I don’t think so. One of my main reasons for homeschooling was that I wanted my kids’ learning to be meaningful to them; I wanted them to decide how they wanted to learn. And Henry has always had strong opinions on these matters, that’s for sure. His decision to go to school is just one more refinement of his understanding of how he learns best. He’s chosen a path different from those of his friends. That’s taken courage and confidence. I’m glad homeschooling gave those qualities to him.

If you’d asked me last November, after Henry made his announcement to me, I would have been sure this first week of school would be a sad one for me. But you know what? I’m not sad. Instead, I’m excited. Excited to see Henry excited. Excited to see him when he comes home from school, eager to share what he’s learning. (I always hear that school kids don’t want to talk to their parents about school, but so far Henry does.) And I’m excited to see that he’s happy, which he wasn’t so much last year.

Plus, I know the truth: Henry will always be a homeschooler at heart. 

(I took a photo of him walking to the bus with a backpack that made him look like he was off for a five-day trip in the mountains. He didn’t want me to share it here though. It’s a special one, just for me.)

what I love about my local homeschool conference*

August 22, 2008 in homeschooling, learning | 2 comments

1. Watching all the colorful teens gleefully bounding about the hotel like oversized 4-year-olds, not a sullen face among them.

2. Inspiration! Inspiration from new ideas** and new twists on old ideas***.

3. Seeing people of all ages crafting everywhere, with workshops on mosaics, amigurami (small Japanese crocheted animals), artist trading cards and matchbox shrines, to name just a few. Then there was the amazing Swap-o-rama-rama where kids got to take donated clothes, cut them apart, and stitch them into something new. Pure bliss for Lily. She made Henry a trench coat out of old jeans and duct tape.

4. Eating pizza, drinking sangria and laughing with my homeschool homies–otherwise known as my fellow homeschooling parent friends–on a balmy Sacramento night, beneath a full moon.

5. Lots of knitting time during larger keynote sessions.

6. Watching Lily and her equally absurdly-competent friend somehow manage at least 20 kids at a time during their popular Rag Doll-Making workshop.

7. The vendor hall and Recycled Resource Room. I’m not so tempted by curriculum stuff, but I have to restrain myself with all the great books and games. Found a cool computer program on art technique and history that Mr. T adores already, and a brilliant hands-on set for exploring the Pythagorean Theorem.

8. Offering my own workshop for the first time.

I gave a workshop on facilitating writer’s workshops, and it was such a thrill. I’ve been facilitating writer’s workshops for homeschoolers for years now, basically gathering kids together and giving them a chance to to share their writing with one another. I’ve also participated in workshops myself, through adult ed courses and with my beloved writing group. Let me tell you: there’s nothing like a workshop to inspire writing! I could talk all day on the topic! What a joy it was to share this with a roomful of eager folks who seemed truly interested.

(Incidentally, If any of those workshop attendees find your way to this blog, please let me know if you start up a workshop–my email address is on the handout, or leave a comment here! And to anyone who may have bought a CD recording of the workshop, leave a comment here as well, and I will gladly email the handout which I referred to half a zillion times as I spoke. (You must include your email address when you leave a comment, but I’m the only one who will see it. You can even leave a pseudonym like, say, Homeskool Harriet or John Holt, Jr.)

I know people who don’t like this conference, or feel that they’ve attended so long that there’s nothing new to learn. I also know a woman who homeschooled three kids, and has sent two off to college. This year her youngest will attend high school, so her homeschooling life is theoretically ending. Nevertheless, I found her beside me in more than one of the Charlotte Mason workshops. I asked why she was there, since she would no longer be homeschooling. She’ll be tutoring a young boy this year, she explained, and she thought the workshop might be helpful. But mostly, she said that she loves history, and was enjoying hearing about this woman, Charlotte Mason, who had so many innovative ideas, so long ago. My friend attended the workshop, I think, because she’s a curious person who likes to learn. Interestingly, her youngest daughter–who attended my writer’s workshop–is one of the most enthusiastic, eager-to-learn teenagers I know. Coincidence? I don’t think so.

* My local conference is put on by HSC, the HomeSchool Association of California. It takes place in Sacramento the third weekend in August every year. Hard to believe, but last weekend I went for my twelfth year.

** Scott Noelle had some interesting ideas about enjoying parenting, as opposed to being motivated by guilt and a puritanical work ethic. Sheesh, I hadn’t realized what a puritan I am.

*** I’ve read about Charlotte Mason in the past, but it was fun to revisit her ideas via Catherine Levinson. I’m newly intrigued with Charlotte’s ideas about narration as a precursor to developing a writer’s voice; the use of nature journals; and the idea of very short lessons in subjects such as math. (Not that I offer lessons to my kids on anything. But they seem to be teaching me lessons constantly…)

here we go!

August 16, 2008 in 100-species-challenge, learning | 2 comments

After whining about how one of my children did not share my boundless enthusiasm for the 100-Species Challenge in my last post, I decided it best to proceed on my own. Once I did that, of course, interested family members began to sprout up as quickly as the unnamed plants themselves. Mr. T gladly ate one of our Pink Pearl apples so I could photograph its stunning salmon-colored flesh for my first entry.

And my charming husband, after catching up with my blog at the office, took pity on me and my lack of enthusiastic family members and promised to search out a few species himself.

Hoo ha!

I’ve decided to post our (presumably) growing list as a page in the A Little Background sidebar at right. I won’t share every new species as a blog post-I’m trying real hard not to bore you silly here-but I’ll post occasional, (again, presumably) intriguing entries as posts from time to time. Those posts will be linked under the category 100-species-challenge at right.

I’m following scsours’ Official Rules. With a little tweaking, of course, cause that’s what homeschoolers do best.

A little drumroll please, Mr. Shaffer…

1. Pink Pearl Apple

Latin name: Pyrus Malus

Interesting facts: I chose this tree, even though it’s growing right in our backyard*, because I’m always mixing up it up with the Pink Lady apple. I wanted Mr. T and me to get it right once and for all. We googled to be certain and discovered that the Pink Lady is the one that is pink on the outside; ours with the pink interior is the Pink Pearl.

According to California Eating, Pink Pearls are unique to the West Coast, which makes it all the more interesting to have this tree growing in our yard. They’re also rare in supermarkets because they don’t keep or travel well. I love how California Eating’s author, Amy, calls their color “positively vampy”. She also says the apples “taste of raspberries and lemon custard.” Tempting! Ours are still a bit under-ripe but I’m looking forward to tasting for that lemon custard. Mr. T is impatient; he likes them sour, says they taste like Sour Patch Kids.

And check out the Pink Pearl blossoms pictured in Amy’s post. Our blossoms really are that pink and gorgeous in spring. Positively vampy.

* Not the best photo ever. Our two apple trees are espaliered against a fence, and they have the clean lines and elegance of dancers most of the year. But right now they look as if they’re sprouting limbs from their stomachs because it’s summer and because the sunflower house has stepped right in front of them on the stage and we can’t get to them to give haircuts.

the 100 Species Challenge meets the challenge of raising kids with minds of their own

August 12, 2008 in 100-species-challenge, learning | 3 comments

Okay, so I came across this challenge on Melissa Wiley’s blog. It originated here, when scsours contemplated a quote that most people can’t recognize 100 plant species within a mile of their home. The challenge is to go out and learn the names, and a bit more, of 100 plants in your neighborhood.

Ooh, I loved this idea immediately. I’m pretty good with plant names, especially garden plants, and herbs and other edibles. Many of the Latin names even manage to velcro their way into my brain. I’m sure there are plenty I don’t know, though, especially trees. And wouldn’t it be fun to do with the kids?

Apparently not. When I mentioned it to one of my children, who shall remain nameless, she (ahem) rejected the notion as quickly as I had fallen in love with it. “I don’t want to do that,” she said. “I just want to do life science.”

Oh, life science. Silly me, suggesting plants.

When will I learn that my kids’ desire to do anything is inversely proportional to my suggestions that they do it? In plain English: If Mama thinks it’s a good idea, it must be a bad idea. Sometimes I think they say no simply because I’m suggesting it, without considering the suggestion at all. I guess they’ve spent years having to fight off my Boundless Excitement over Learning Opportunities. Mr. T. is still young enough, at six, that he’s often willing to get caught up in my enthusiasm, but he has such a creative way of looking at the world that he usually veers off my path pretty quickly. 

I probably should have quietly started this myself. I could have asked the unnamed child to figure out how to put her camera in macro mode and take a picture for me. I could have looked up a Latin name and researched its meaning in this this cool book. Then I could have casually mentioned it to a nearby child. Latin names are very Harry Potterish, you know, and I think Theo would dig that. 

There’s a part of me that hates the notion of having to be sneaky about what I want to share with my kids. But I guess that’s better than being told flat-out that they’d rather do life science.

I see that Sandra Dodd, unschooler extraordinaire, is taking on this challenge. Check out her subtitle: “In Which Sandra Dodd Follows the Lead of Others in Trying to Identify by Name 100 Local Plants”. Notice that no kids are mentioned. This is her quest. I’m sure I could learn something from that.

But I keep thinking how fun it could be to make plant trading cards, you know, Pokemon-style, with Latin names and cool facts…no, no, stop me!  Remind me to keep it to myself for now! Remind me to play with the idea of this challenge, think about how I might do it myself–and maybe strew a few enticing crumbs along the way.

If you want to take on this challenge yourself–alone or with kids who are more cooperative than mine–you can read the Official Rules and sign up here.

makin’ stuff

August 6, 2008 in makin' stuff | 2 comments

In which Wonder Farm poses as a craft blog.*

Seems like everyone is makin’ stuff around here these days, which is pretty much what one should do in the summer, I think.

First up: what is surely to be Henry’s one and only appearance here as a jewelry-maker. But isn’t this beautiful? He made it at his beloved 11-day camp in the Sierras. Carved it from a piece of manzanita, then sanded for days with progressively finer sand paper. Finally deemed it smooth enough for a coating of shea butter. It’s lustrous and lovely and I plan to borrow it when he isn’t looking.

Lily the craft queen has spent much of her summer singing and dancing, so her usual craft quota is down. But this week she’s taking a series of sewing classes, so things should be back to normal soon. (I refuse to call the classes sewing camp, as the creators of the program do. If something is to be called a camp, dirt must be involved.) Before Lily lit off on her many summer endeavors, she did embellish her backpack. Her bunny patch is a simplified version of the cute animals she makes, inspired by–what else– The Cute Book. (It is seriously impossible to comment on these creatures without letting the word cute wander out of your mouth.)

 

Here’s my summer craftiness. It’s the Drawstring Chemise from Interweave Knits Spring 2008. Don’t go getting bamboozled by the lace or anything. Instead, please draw your eye to the bow at the front. Notice how that aforementioned drawstring holds the whole thing on. That’s 73 inches of i-cord, my friends, knit in cotton, which always i-cords badly. It was only when I was in the final 5 inches that my friend Stefaneener noticed what I was doing and mentioned that she has an i-cord machine. Doh!

 

 

 

 

 

And here’s Mr. T’s contribution. Just a sampling of his never-ending art. Of course, this is what happens when you are six and your brother is sixteen: you draw pictures of scary demon guys playing the drums. (You also, when out in public, sing songs from Guitar Hero, like “Rock and Roll All Night” and “Rock You Like A Hurricane”. But that’s another story.)

Speaking of makin’ stuff, last week I was away for five days with the man with whom I’ve made a lot of stuff over the years–made three lively, opinionated children to be specific. We didn’t take them along to the wine country to celebrate our twenty years together. Imagine that! The two of us just drank wine at least twice a day, ate gorgeous food made with local produce and cheese, surrounded ourselves with stunning gardens and vineyards, sat in hot tubs late at night–and talked about the kids the whole time. Isn’t that how it goes? And our camera broke, so I have no pictures. As it should be, I suppose. Anniversaries are one thing not meant to be shared.

* I don’t have the photography skills to match my favorite craft bloggers. In fact, I don’t even have a camera, since ours broke. I’m making do with Lily’s camera and my limited skills. Check out some of my favorites to see how the real crafty bloggers do it: beauty that moves, wise craft, house on hill road, soule mama.