Recap: I have been horizontally productive, completing many tasks on my list from last week. I have also napped a lot and grown larger.
Week 17: Encourage
purpose-based learning
Sophomore year I had to take geometry. I made it through algebra the year before
and did well. Geometry is not algebra. Add to that I also took chemistry the same
year (math in science is not okay), and there was the TAAS test and it’s math
portion to contend with. (TAAS was our STAAR test back then and stood for “multiple
choice ways to make you feel like a dumb-@$$", same as what STAAR stands for.) I barely passed geometry with the main focus
being on just that: passing. I learned close to nothing because I was so
behind by the end of the first nine weeks I could not have crammed all that junk
in my brain no matter what. As opposed
to having the option of slowing down to really learn, I was fast tracked to
pass so I wouldn’t be a “failure” who had to repeat geometry. God bless my teacher for all her hard work
and for helping me slide by with a C-.
It wasn’t her fault I learned nothing, but I am so scared of geometry I
had panic attacks trying to teach my children shapes. I also dropped out of chemistry the first nine weeks. I passed the TAAS math test by
one question. Tenth grade taught me an
important lesson: It stinks to feel stupid. And hard work forced on a person by
standardized testing and other people’s timelines does not particularly amount
to success. It amounts to a person
working hard, still feeling like a failure, and not sure what went wrong.
I carried this lesson with me, opting out of all higher
level math classes in high school and college.
I opted out of any science classes that might somehow sneak math in as
well. (I took anatomy because I can count bones.) I decided I was stupid in math. I was called artsy. The label was fine with me because at least
it meant I wasn’t bad at everything. Just
things with numbers.
My daughter taught me this week what I may have
missed: I did not see a purpose in geometry
and I wasn’t ready for it. I still tried
because of the fear of being called a failure.
That wasn’t enough to make it stick.
This week Wren was working on a connect the dots book
when she reached numbers she could count but did not recognize the looks
of. For instance, counting to 50 and
knowing what 50 looks like are two different things. Attempting to figure this out on her own led
to her saying, “Look what I made” and me responding, “Oh, um, yes a…possum?”
Wren: I think it’s
an owl.
Me: An owl possum?
Wren: Hmmm…
Realizing some lines were connected to the wrong places,
she started asking me “what’s 1 next to 6” and I would say 16 and so on. After a few times, I decided to make her
flash cards to help her out. By the time
I finished, my daughter had completed another page of number connect the dots
perfectly with every line in the correct place from 1-30. She figured out the pattern. Why?
Because she did not want to create another picture that looked like a
possible owl possum. She wanted to see
what the picture was supposed to be. She
saw a purpose in figuring it out, so she did.
No threat of failure. No force
from an outside source. She wanted to
learn.
As we continue in
our very early and primitive homeschool endeavors, I want to remember this lesson. Sure, I will introduce some ideas and
concepts and basics and wait for the kids to be ready to latch on, but purpose and
readiness are key. When they are ready
they will learn, and when they see a purpose it won’t have to be a
struggle. And if they need three years
to understand proofs and theorems, whatever. (Does anyone use those? Please chime in; I still don’t get it.)
I am focusing on this specifically this week because I
am mapping out a very loose plan of what September-August for homeschool will look like, and I
don’t want to get overly wrapped up in the details. If we try something and no one is ready or finds
purpose at that time, moving on. I don’t
want my kids to have the sophomore year experience if possible. They will be challenged; they will learn to
do difficult things, but I would like it to not be at the cost of their dignity
and self-worth.
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| Wren telling Sammy, "I am rolling you up in a manger." We may need to work on the definition of manger. |
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