We turned the calendar to a new month today. To all intents and purposes, our school year is "done" -- at least officially. I've tallied up attendance records and we've hit our requisite number of days. All that should be left is portfolio and evaluation.
But S. still has some things to wrap up: she's still writing her final research paper for her writing course, she's got a review unit still to do in math, a few stray grammar lessons to finish up to complete the workbook, and some ongoing work in Spanish (ditto). What makes me happy is to see her willingness to keep going with all of this, in a good, disciplined way, even though it's June and we're both oh so ready for a break. The nice thing, of course, is that she can tackle these things pretty systematically on her own and still have plenty of time leftover to begin some relaxation.
The other nice thing is that we're not feeling rushed in the mornings. Which, wonderfully, means more chances to explore learning trails. This morning we lingered at the breakfast table and had an awesome conversation about missions history and the shifting of the Christian world from global north to global south, which got her so excited she actually did a little cheer for our "missionary God!" (which made my heart want to sing, naturally). At lunch, we tackled the Smithsonian magazine that arrived on Saturday and I read her the Pluto article while she ate. She did a big paper on Pluto last year, so I knew she'd find it fascinating, and she did. We're excitedly looking forward to July 14, the big NASA encounter with the dwarf planet.
So yes...it must be June. Learning continues, but it does so in a more relaxed, chasing-your-passions-down-learning-trails way. That's good for us both.
June also marks the beginning of the summer diaconate course I'm teaching, along with four independent studies. Considering I'm still grading for spring, I'm feeling like I'm not getting much of a breath, but grateful for the work. I've got final edits on some S&T work too, and a doctor's appointment this week. Never a dull moment!
Showing posts with label learning. Show all posts
Showing posts with label learning. Show all posts
Monday, June 01, 2015
Tuesday, November 04, 2014
Elephants and Pluto and November....oh my!
It's been a crazy-busy few weeks of regular work and school with some new things coming down the pike in our schedules.
Last week the sweet girl finished up her fall Irish dance class and thoroughly enjoyed trick or treating, dressed up as our town (complete with clock tower hat). This week she's finishing up a paper on Pluto (to her great surprise, after doing all her reading and research, she discovered she agrees with its "demotion" to dwarf planet status).
I've been working on an article proposal for a children's magazine which has had me reading about the fascinating world of elephants, most specifically elephant intelligence. The books have intrigued S. to the point that she thinks elephants may be her next learning craze, the Apollo space mission craze having momentarily died down. Hooray for learning trails!
In writing life news: I'm continuing to do a lot of web content writing, and I'm grateful it's there, but I'm really excited because I've just been offered a contract as a youth curriculum writer with a Sunday School publishing company. I'll be contracted to write lesson plans for teaching various Bible passages to 7-12th graders. It's a neat looking approach to teaching the Scriptures (incorporating interactive and kinesthetic approaches) and I'm happy that the company has brought me on board to do some projects. Right now I am praying for the time and creativity to do the lesson planning justice -- my first two deadlines are in December.
And in teaching life news: I just started working with my Old Testament class (online, for an adult ed. institute I sometimes teach for) and have contracted to teach the Anglican Ethos course I used to teach online at the sem this spring. That last was a happy and unexpected surprise, as the course hasn't been offered in quite a while -- I've only taught it as an independent study for the past several years.
Throw in homeschooling, afterschool arts, church school, missions committee work, and several other things I'm not immediately remembering, and this has turned out to be one of the busiest autumns I can remember in years. It's all good, but sometimes tiring.
We're struggling mightily with an income shortfall this month (we've had months it's been tight, and things have finally caught up with us, most especially my lack of steady work this fall) so while I am praising God for new work opportunities in winter and spring, I know it's going to be a while (January - March) before most of my work outside of web content writing generates anything. We are trying to find ways to continue to pay down our debt without defaulting while still doing things like eating, keeping the lights on and gas in the car, and finding ways to pay for D's meds. All of this would be tremendously anxiety producing if I let myself stop and focus on it, but it's so much easier to keep opening my hands and looking up and saying thank you. Plus there's only so much you can do....when you really can't pay bills, you just can't pay them, and you move on and keep working as best you can. You keep your eyes on Jesus and trust him for what you lack. You also trust that you will meet patience and understanding and kindness even in places where you don't expect it, and that somehow there will be enough for the day. And not just "enough" materially, but "enough" in all the ways that matter.
Last week the sweet girl finished up her fall Irish dance class and thoroughly enjoyed trick or treating, dressed up as our town (complete with clock tower hat). This week she's finishing up a paper on Pluto (to her great surprise, after doing all her reading and research, she discovered she agrees with its "demotion" to dwarf planet status).
I've been working on an article proposal for a children's magazine which has had me reading about the fascinating world of elephants, most specifically elephant intelligence. The books have intrigued S. to the point that she thinks elephants may be her next learning craze, the Apollo space mission craze having momentarily died down. Hooray for learning trails!
In writing life news: I'm continuing to do a lot of web content writing, and I'm grateful it's there, but I'm really excited because I've just been offered a contract as a youth curriculum writer with a Sunday School publishing company. I'll be contracted to write lesson plans for teaching various Bible passages to 7-12th graders. It's a neat looking approach to teaching the Scriptures (incorporating interactive and kinesthetic approaches) and I'm happy that the company has brought me on board to do some projects. Right now I am praying for the time and creativity to do the lesson planning justice -- my first two deadlines are in December.
And in teaching life news: I just started working with my Old Testament class (online, for an adult ed. institute I sometimes teach for) and have contracted to teach the Anglican Ethos course I used to teach online at the sem this spring. That last was a happy and unexpected surprise, as the course hasn't been offered in quite a while -- I've only taught it as an independent study for the past several years.
Throw in homeschooling, afterschool arts, church school, missions committee work, and several other things I'm not immediately remembering, and this has turned out to be one of the busiest autumns I can remember in years. It's all good, but sometimes tiring.
We're struggling mightily with an income shortfall this month (we've had months it's been tight, and things have finally caught up with us, most especially my lack of steady work this fall) so while I am praising God for new work opportunities in winter and spring, I know it's going to be a while (January - March) before most of my work outside of web content writing generates anything. We are trying to find ways to continue to pay down our debt without defaulting while still doing things like eating, keeping the lights on and gas in the car, and finding ways to pay for D's meds. All of this would be tremendously anxiety producing if I let myself stop and focus on it, but it's so much easier to keep opening my hands and looking up and saying thank you. Plus there's only so much you can do....when you really can't pay bills, you just can't pay them, and you move on and keep working as best you can. You keep your eyes on Jesus and trust him for what you lack. You also trust that you will meet patience and understanding and kindness even in places where you don't expect it, and that somehow there will be enough for the day. And not just "enough" materially, but "enough" in all the ways that matter.
Monday, September 01, 2014
First Day of Seventh Grade!
Year Eight in the homeschool journey begins! Yes, I know it's Labor Day, but we're starting late this year due to travel, and D. planned to be working today anyway. The sweet girl and I agreed we'd rather get a jump on things and get in a whole week, so here we are on a Monday morning.
I love the first day of school traditions we've put in place over the years: first day muffins, pictures, hand print (such a laugh now to see those little hand prints from earlier years!), new Scripture verse CD. For the first time ever this year, we listened to a Scripture CD that wasn't from the Harrow family, as we finished all the volumes in Sing the Word. Our first listen to the first verse in "Songs of Courage" earned a thumbs up from us: we liked the music a lot. And of course Jeremiah 33:3 is a wonderful verse: "Call to me and I will answer you and tell you great and unsearchable things you do not know." Seems like a very appropriate verse for the beginning of a new season of our lives!
Let's not forget the new Ticonderoga pencils, one of which is being used even as I write. The sweet girl is tackling language arts this morning with great gusto.
The years seem to pass more swiftly the older I grow, and one way I know that's true is how quickly this day seems to roll around each year. Thank you, Lord, for another new beginning.
I love the first day of school traditions we've put in place over the years: first day muffins, pictures, hand print (such a laugh now to see those little hand prints from earlier years!), new Scripture verse CD. For the first time ever this year, we listened to a Scripture CD that wasn't from the Harrow family, as we finished all the volumes in Sing the Word. Our first listen to the first verse in "Songs of Courage" earned a thumbs up from us: we liked the music a lot. And of course Jeremiah 33:3 is a wonderful verse: "Call to me and I will answer you and tell you great and unsearchable things you do not know." Seems like a very appropriate verse for the beginning of a new season of our lives!
Let's not forget the new Ticonderoga pencils, one of which is being used even as I write. The sweet girl is tackling language arts this morning with great gusto.
The years seem to pass more swiftly the older I grow, and one way I know that's true is how quickly this day seems to roll around each year. Thank you, Lord, for another new beginning.
Tuesday, July 09, 2013
Summertime Learning: (Or, "We All Get To Be Unschoolers!")
A homeschooling forum I like to visit often makes me smile. I love seeing the posts from parents new to homeschooling who are raring to go and wondering how they're going "to fit it all in." I love seeing the "relax and calm down and let learning happen" posts from the veterans. And I especially love the occasional posts from the veterans who, in that beautiful human way we all have, sometimes lapse again into the "argh! how am I going to fit it all in?" cry.
As educators and parents, homeschoolers or not, I think we've all been there about a hundred times: there is just so much we want to show and teach and inspire our kids with (and in our information age, so much of it seems right at our fingertips) and yet our time is limited. The length of days and our own quotas of energy are finite. There is only so much learning one can bring into a day, week, month, or school year and still have it be effective. There comes a time when we have to take a break, relax, and play -- and yes, I know learning happens in those times too, because really learning never stops. We're always people in formation.
I know some people school year round with intermittent breaks. But for those who take long summer breaks, like we do in our household, I think it's important to remember some of the great ways more formal bits of learning can still infiltrate the summer hours. This is good news for those of us (pointing to myself) who occasionally freak out because we didn't quite make it through that last history or science unit at the end of the school year because we were just too tired -- and our kids were crazy with spring fever.
First, the obvious ways:
Camps/Family Trips/Gardening
Because all of those are great opportunities for learning new skills, seeing new places, and making new friends.
Summer Reading
There are so many ways to inspire your kids to summer reading: bookstore programs, library programs, family generated programs. And then, of course, there is just the old-fashioned way: put a lot of books in front of them and give them copious amounts of down time to read. Yesterday morning, my daughter woke up and didn't feel like getting up for the day, so I let her stay in bed an extra hour and read. She loved it. So hard to imagine doing that in...say...November...but it fits with July.
Quiz Games
My daughter loves trivia games, the question and answer kind like Brain Quest. I've come to love them too. We've been doing Brain Quest cards a lot this summer, using some of the 5th grade level ones we found at a recent library sale. They're not only fun, they help me see what "gaps" exist in my rising sixth graders' knowledge. Yes, sometimes that means I'm recalling the units and subjects we didn't get to as much as I planned last year (Native Americans, botany....) It's also fun to realize all the things your children know that you had no clue they knew. And it provides some mental math practice.
Creative Prompts
Summer is a great time to inspire your kids to write in a journal or to paint or write. If they need creative prompts, there are a variety you can use, online or homemade. We've been having a lot of fun with a set of "Story Cubes" my sister got for us during her recent birthday visit. It's a set of nine dice with different images on each surface. Roll the dice and let the images prompt you to wordplay and storytelling. You could make your own similar set of prompts. Picture prompts, household item prompts...whatever works.
Learning Links
There are so many good online sites that provide regularly updated or daily links. We use some of these during the school year, but in the midst of busy, routine days (when you're trying to make sure you get in all the grammar you need to) it's easy to forget. Summer is a fun time to refresh or update your bookmarks and to let yourselves spend some time just enjoying those resting places for hearts and minds. For instance, this summer my daughter has been making the re-acquaintance of Astronomy Picture of the Day.
Learning Trails
This might be my favorite part of relaxed, "down-time" learning -- the opportunity to chase down learning trails. Theoretically, we try to build this into our school year too -- if something really sparks a learning passion, I try to find ways to guide my daughter to learn more about it. Practically speaking, this is harder to encourage during the school year unless you're an unschooler who lives by that method of learning. The cool thing is that in summer, we all get to be unschoolers for a while! When you're not needing to make sure that the math test is completed, it's a lot easier to say "sure, why don't you learn everything you want to about the Apollo space missions?" That's been my daughter's favorite learning trail this summer. She's also enjoyed learning about Helen Keller.
There are lots of other ways to build relaxed learning into the summer: cooking projects, craft projects, museums, sporting events, a poem a day. The possibilities are endless. And yes, a lot of these can be elements of a learning life no matter what time of year. There's just something about the less structured season of summer that lends itself to thinking outside the box.
As educators and parents, homeschoolers or not, I think we've all been there about a hundred times: there is just so much we want to show and teach and inspire our kids with (and in our information age, so much of it seems right at our fingertips) and yet our time is limited. The length of days and our own quotas of energy are finite. There is only so much learning one can bring into a day, week, month, or school year and still have it be effective. There comes a time when we have to take a break, relax, and play -- and yes, I know learning happens in those times too, because really learning never stops. We're always people in formation.
I know some people school year round with intermittent breaks. But for those who take long summer breaks, like we do in our household, I think it's important to remember some of the great ways more formal bits of learning can still infiltrate the summer hours. This is good news for those of us (pointing to myself) who occasionally freak out because we didn't quite make it through that last history or science unit at the end of the school year because we were just too tired -- and our kids were crazy with spring fever.
First, the obvious ways:
Camps/Family Trips/Gardening
Because all of those are great opportunities for learning new skills, seeing new places, and making new friends.
Summer Reading
There are so many ways to inspire your kids to summer reading: bookstore programs, library programs, family generated programs. And then, of course, there is just the old-fashioned way: put a lot of books in front of them and give them copious amounts of down time to read. Yesterday morning, my daughter woke up and didn't feel like getting up for the day, so I let her stay in bed an extra hour and read. She loved it. So hard to imagine doing that in...say...November...but it fits with July.
Quiz Games
My daughter loves trivia games, the question and answer kind like Brain Quest. I've come to love them too. We've been doing Brain Quest cards a lot this summer, using some of the 5th grade level ones we found at a recent library sale. They're not only fun, they help me see what "gaps" exist in my rising sixth graders' knowledge. Yes, sometimes that means I'm recalling the units and subjects we didn't get to as much as I planned last year (Native Americans, botany....) It's also fun to realize all the things your children know that you had no clue they knew. And it provides some mental math practice.
Creative Prompts
Summer is a great time to inspire your kids to write in a journal or to paint or write. If they need creative prompts, there are a variety you can use, online or homemade. We've been having a lot of fun with a set of "Story Cubes" my sister got for us during her recent birthday visit. It's a set of nine dice with different images on each surface. Roll the dice and let the images prompt you to wordplay and storytelling. You could make your own similar set of prompts. Picture prompts, household item prompts...whatever works.
Learning Links
There are so many good online sites that provide regularly updated or daily links. We use some of these during the school year, but in the midst of busy, routine days (when you're trying to make sure you get in all the grammar you need to) it's easy to forget. Summer is a fun time to refresh or update your bookmarks and to let yourselves spend some time just enjoying those resting places for hearts and minds. For instance, this summer my daughter has been making the re-acquaintance of Astronomy Picture of the Day.
Learning Trails
This might be my favorite part of relaxed, "down-time" learning -- the opportunity to chase down learning trails. Theoretically, we try to build this into our school year too -- if something really sparks a learning passion, I try to find ways to guide my daughter to learn more about it. Practically speaking, this is harder to encourage during the school year unless you're an unschooler who lives by that method of learning. The cool thing is that in summer, we all get to be unschoolers for a while! When you're not needing to make sure that the math test is completed, it's a lot easier to say "sure, why don't you learn everything you want to about the Apollo space missions?" That's been my daughter's favorite learning trail this summer. She's also enjoyed learning about Helen Keller.
There are lots of other ways to build relaxed learning into the summer: cooking projects, craft projects, museums, sporting events, a poem a day. The possibilities are endless. And yes, a lot of these can be elements of a learning life no matter what time of year. There's just something about the less structured season of summer that lends itself to thinking outside the box.
Friday, May 31, 2013
Finishing Up Fifth Grade (Notes from a Learning Life!)
As she is growing and changing so much physically and
emotionally, the sweet girl has been struggling with increased anxiety related
issues (in general, not specific to school) which have also been taking up a
good bit of our time and energy as a family. We’re in the process of getting
some guidance and putting some things into place for ourselves as we pursue
some mental health goals for her and for all of us, and I remind myself that is
all a huge and important part of life and of learning.
School subjects have not fallen by the wayside though. We’ve
had a good strong finish to the year in language arts and math and a sort of
limping finish to science and history, though they both had their highlights
this year too. When I look back on everything, I am pleased with S’ academic
progress in many areas, especially her continued passion for math and art and
her growing confidence as a writer. I am pleased with the progress she made in
taking more strides as an independent learner. The areas I think she has
struggled with most (and I have struggled with most as her teacher) have to do
with some of the broader anxiety and perfectionist issues. What gives me hope
is to remember the fruit we have seen already, and to know that more fruit will
bloom as we continue to plant needs, water and nourish the soil, and trust the
Gardener of our souls.
The standardized tests are done (she has to take them
certain years in compliance with state requirements) and she passed
with absolute flying colors. Her overall marks in Language and Mathematics were
given a “highest level” rating, which makes this mama/teacher’s heart very
happy. (I don’t actually mind standardized tests, which show me areas in which
I can improve instruction, and the sweet girl actually finds them fun!)
Six years! Midway through next year, we will be exactly
half-way through this home learning journey we officially set out on. There are
days when I’ve wondered if we’ll ever make it, a few days when I’ve been ready
to quit, and many, many more days when I’ve just felt so incredibly blessed that
we’re doing this and so affirmed in our call. We really are doing this…through
the hard parts and the amazing parts…building a learning life.
Tuesday, May 07, 2013
Why Do We Learn?
This list is from a brainstorming session at our house today. I thought it was worth sharing!
Why do we learn?
We learn in order to….
Try new skills
Appreciate the past
Look at the future
Gain wisdom
So we can teach others
Practice paying attention
Gain patience
Have our questions answered
Ask new questions
Have new questions answered
Ask more questions!
Try new skills
Help us later in life with jobs
Practice listening
Try hard things
Smile
So we won’t be bored
Exercise our brains
Exercise our hearts
Exercise our bodies
Enjoy new ideas
Enjoy beauty and order
Learn from failing
Learn from succeeding
Practice following directions
So we don’t keep making the same mistakes
Have something to do
Appreciate how people different from us do things
Monday, March 18, 2013
Praise Break
There are days when almost nothing on my to-do list seems to get done, and yet I look back and say "That was a rich learning day. Thank you, God."
Today has been one of those, and I am feeling tremendously grateful that sometimes, I have just enough wisdom to get out of my own way, scrap my agenda, and let the Lord do what he wants to do in me.
This praise break brought to you by the heart of a humble, grateful woman.
Today has been one of those, and I am feeling tremendously grateful that sometimes, I have just enough wisdom to get out of my own way, scrap my agenda, and let the Lord do what he wants to do in me.
This praise break brought to you by the heart of a humble, grateful woman.
Wednesday, February 20, 2013
When Words Just "Click": Fun Today With Visual Latin
The sweet girl has been working through Lesson 17 of Visual Latin this week. In the reading/translation section of the lesson, she's up to the story of Noah and the ark. VL uses an adapted version of the Vulgate for these sections.
As part of the "immersion" approach, the Visual Latin teacher, Dwane Thomas, first reads the passage aloud while the student just listens. Then he reads it again, more slowly, pausing between sentences or phrases, while the student repeats it after him. (The words are written on the screen each time too.) Then the student works through the same passage to translate it, with any new vocabulary for the week listed at the end of the passage.
This means that by the time the student actually has the passage in front of them to translate, they've already heard all the words twice and said them once. Sometimes it's fun to see the brow wrinkling that can go on when the sweet girl is listening to a passage and a word she hasn't heard before pops up. I saw that today when the teacher read: "Signum est arcus. Nimbi sunt in caelo. Arcus quoquo in caelo est."
She knew the word "arca" from last week, and from earlier in today's passage. She knew it meant ark. But "arcus" -- close to arca, and yet so far -- was a brand new word. The brow definitely wrinkled when he read "Arcus quoque in caelo est," because if you translated "arcus" as "ark," it would read, "The ark is also in the sky."
Sure enough, when she got to that part of the passage, she wasn't quite sure what to do. I pointed out that "arcus" was a different word than "arca" and told her to go to her new vocabulary sheet. Light dawned as she realized that "arcus" can mean "bow, arch, or rainbow."
"Oh!" she said, "I get it! The RAINBOW is also in the sky. Not the ark. I was wondering. I was thinking maybe it was talking about when the ark landed on the mountain!"
We had a good laugh, and then a fun marvel over the closeness of the words. It had never fully dawned on either of us that the rainbow "arch" in the sky is really the inverted shape of the "ark" in the water.
Don't you love it when you learn new things about words, and when words just suddenly "click"?
As part of the "immersion" approach, the Visual Latin teacher, Dwane Thomas, first reads the passage aloud while the student just listens. Then he reads it again, more slowly, pausing between sentences or phrases, while the student repeats it after him. (The words are written on the screen each time too.) Then the student works through the same passage to translate it, with any new vocabulary for the week listed at the end of the passage.
This means that by the time the student actually has the passage in front of them to translate, they've already heard all the words twice and said them once. Sometimes it's fun to see the brow wrinkling that can go on when the sweet girl is listening to a passage and a word she hasn't heard before pops up. I saw that today when the teacher read: "Signum est arcus. Nimbi sunt in caelo. Arcus quoquo in caelo est."
She knew the word "arca" from last week, and from earlier in today's passage. She knew it meant ark. But "arcus" -- close to arca, and yet so far -- was a brand new word. The brow definitely wrinkled when he read "Arcus quoque in caelo est," because if you translated "arcus" as "ark," it would read, "The ark is also in the sky."
Sure enough, when she got to that part of the passage, she wasn't quite sure what to do. I pointed out that "arcus" was a different word than "arca" and told her to go to her new vocabulary sheet. Light dawned as she realized that "arcus" can mean "bow, arch, or rainbow."
"Oh!" she said, "I get it! The RAINBOW is also in the sky. Not the ark. I was wondering. I was thinking maybe it was talking about when the ark landed on the mountain!"
We had a good laugh, and then a fun marvel over the closeness of the words. It had never fully dawned on either of us that the rainbow "arch" in the sky is really the inverted shape of the "ark" in the water.
Don't you love it when you learn new things about words, and when words just suddenly "click"?
Tuesday, September 20, 2011
How Words Work
I've got a handful of posts in the pipeline, but life is doing that funny thing it sometimes does...getting in the way of blogging. Imagine!
Words keep being on my mind though. The way we use them wisely, the way we don't. How they can give life and hope and spark creativity and form connections. How they can wound or trivialize. How much I need them in my life, and how much I still have to learn about crafting them and using them well.
The other day I was reading a bit from Leonard Sweet's book Aqua Church as I prepped for a discipleship group with the teen girls at church. He loves to weave quotes and bits of poems into his reflections, and I stumbled upon a stanza I'd never read but which spoke to my heart. I quoted a line from it as my FB status. A friend asked me what it was from. I told her, and she went looking for the whole poem (it was from a book published in 1900!) and posted all several beautiful, hope-filled stanzas. She's been grieving the death of her brother, and the poem touched her heart. I watched as other people commented on the poem, sensing the comfort and beauty in the words, and then I saw one of them say they were passing it on to a grieving friend.
Do you ever marvel at the way words form a web? I often think about poetry and stories as long, ongoing conversations, but sometimes that firms up in front of our eyes in unexpected ways. An author over a century ago pens a prayer poem. An author several years ago excerpts it in his book. I read the words and they touch me so I pass that on. My friend is so touched she goes looking for deeper context and more of the poem. She passes it on to someone who passes it on to someone and...more people are blessed.
This is how words work at their best. They fly like birds and blow about like leaves, like seeds. They're messages in bottles and scrawled notes in balloons (something my elementary school did once, years ago in the pre-green days...we wrote messages and then released them in balloons, waiting to see if we would hear back from those who found them).
As writers and teachers we can choose our words carefully, shape them wisely and beautifully (we hope) but ultimately we send them out there into the world. And they do their thing, connecting hearts and minds and sometimes ending up in surprising places.
Words keep being on my mind though. The way we use them wisely, the way we don't. How they can give life and hope and spark creativity and form connections. How they can wound or trivialize. How much I need them in my life, and how much I still have to learn about crafting them and using them well.
The other day I was reading a bit from Leonard Sweet's book Aqua Church as I prepped for a discipleship group with the teen girls at church. He loves to weave quotes and bits of poems into his reflections, and I stumbled upon a stanza I'd never read but which spoke to my heart. I quoted a line from it as my FB status. A friend asked me what it was from. I told her, and she went looking for the whole poem (it was from a book published in 1900!) and posted all several beautiful, hope-filled stanzas. She's been grieving the death of her brother, and the poem touched her heart. I watched as other people commented on the poem, sensing the comfort and beauty in the words, and then I saw one of them say they were passing it on to a grieving friend.
Do you ever marvel at the way words form a web? I often think about poetry and stories as long, ongoing conversations, but sometimes that firms up in front of our eyes in unexpected ways. An author over a century ago pens a prayer poem. An author several years ago excerpts it in his book. I read the words and they touch me so I pass that on. My friend is so touched she goes looking for deeper context and more of the poem. She passes it on to someone who passes it on to someone and...more people are blessed.
This is how words work at their best. They fly like birds and blow about like leaves, like seeds. They're messages in bottles and scrawled notes in balloons (something my elementary school did once, years ago in the pre-green days...we wrote messages and then released them in balloons, waiting to see if we would hear back from those who found them).
As writers and teachers we can choose our words carefully, shape them wisely and beautifully (we hope) but ultimately we send them out there into the world. And they do their thing, connecting hearts and minds and sometimes ending up in surprising places.
Monday, August 15, 2011
Wisdom from Jack
A little Monday morning wisdom from C.S. Lewis, courtesy of a friend's Facebook status:
"The task of the modern educator is not to cut down jungles, but to irrigate deserts. " ~C.S. Lewis
Irrigating deserts, yes! And remember, deserts can bloom!
"The task of the modern educator is not to cut down jungles, but to irrigate deserts. " ~C.S. Lewis
Irrigating deserts, yes! And remember, deserts can bloom!
Saturday, September 04, 2010
Attentiveness
One of the things I love about building a learning life are the moments of serendipity.
Yes, some of the moments are at least partly, semi-consciously planned (which OK, I realize, makes them less serendipitous...). For instance, during this first week of school we've begun to focus our world history studies on the 17th century. Next week we'll be looking at the Netherlands in the early 1600s, and...not entirely by coincidence...our artist of the month in fine arts appreciation is Jan Vermeer, a Dutch artist who painted in the early 1600s. I've even decided that we're going to launch into The Wheel on the School (set in the Netherlands) as our next read-aloud.
But some moments are so beautiful you just can't plan them.
I've decided that this year we're going to focus, gently and as naturally as possible, on one character trait each month. This will be a trait we talk about sometimes during candles (our family's time of evening prayer) and try to work into other learning moments from time to time. I chose "attentiveness" as the first trait for several reasons. It seemed like a good one to start the school-year with, as we turn our attention to a whole new season. More than that, however, I am trying to be more sensitive and open to what God is doing in the sweet girl's heart by paying closer attention to the stories from Scripture that really grab her and won't let go. For the past few weeks, the story that has done that for her is the story of Samuel -- the boy Samuel in the temple hearing the voice of the Lord. We have read a particular re-telling of this story over and over, and she is clearly very drawn to it.
And of course, what Eli does near the end of the story is to teach Samuel how to pay attention, how to listen and respond to the voice of God. No small thing. I love listening to the sweet girl chime in on Samuel's words "Speak, Lord, for your servant is listening."
And listening is not easy for my girl. Is it easy for any of us? She is a worrier, frequently restless with anxiety and full of what ifs. She can be contemplative, but it's not her natural state these days (full of curiosity and lots of energy, as she should be!) so a listening stance is something we have to nourish. Some of her developmental issues show up in the struggles she has to fully pay attention to and catch "cues" from the people around her. So I'm trying to find ways to nourish listening and attentiveness in small ways: through encouraging us to pause for a period of about half a minute or so of silence before we begin to pray, through the drawing lessons we started together last week (using Mona Brookes' Drawing With Children) where we are learning to relax our eyes and really look, long and carefully, at the elements of shape in an object.
All of which made me smile this morning when I opened up the website I was planning to use for our introduction to Vermeer, and saw this beautiful painting:
It's called "The Lacemaker" and it immediately spoke "attentiveness" to my soul. I quickly shifted from my original plans to look at another Vermeer painting and we spent time with this one. All during the rest of this busy and somewhat stressed day (I'm overwhelmed with work, fighting illness, and supporting my husband through a very stressful time in his family's life) I kept going back to the quiet serenity of this picture.
I love it when moments like these happen. Serendipity.
Yes, some of the moments are at least partly, semi-consciously planned (which OK, I realize, makes them less serendipitous...). For instance, during this first week of school we've begun to focus our world history studies on the 17th century. Next week we'll be looking at the Netherlands in the early 1600s, and...not entirely by coincidence...our artist of the month in fine arts appreciation is Jan Vermeer, a Dutch artist who painted in the early 1600s. I've even decided that we're going to launch into The Wheel on the School (set in the Netherlands) as our next read-aloud.
But some moments are so beautiful you just can't plan them.
I've decided that this year we're going to focus, gently and as naturally as possible, on one character trait each month. This will be a trait we talk about sometimes during candles (our family's time of evening prayer) and try to work into other learning moments from time to time. I chose "attentiveness" as the first trait for several reasons. It seemed like a good one to start the school-year with, as we turn our attention to a whole new season. More than that, however, I am trying to be more sensitive and open to what God is doing in the sweet girl's heart by paying closer attention to the stories from Scripture that really grab her and won't let go. For the past few weeks, the story that has done that for her is the story of Samuel -- the boy Samuel in the temple hearing the voice of the Lord. We have read a particular re-telling of this story over and over, and she is clearly very drawn to it.
And of course, what Eli does near the end of the story is to teach Samuel how to pay attention, how to listen and respond to the voice of God. No small thing. I love listening to the sweet girl chime in on Samuel's words "Speak, Lord, for your servant is listening."
And listening is not easy for my girl. Is it easy for any of us? She is a worrier, frequently restless with anxiety and full of what ifs. She can be contemplative, but it's not her natural state these days (full of curiosity and lots of energy, as she should be!) so a listening stance is something we have to nourish. Some of her developmental issues show up in the struggles she has to fully pay attention to and catch "cues" from the people around her. So I'm trying to find ways to nourish listening and attentiveness in small ways: through encouraging us to pause for a period of about half a minute or so of silence before we begin to pray, through the drawing lessons we started together last week (using Mona Brookes' Drawing With Children) where we are learning to relax our eyes and really look, long and carefully, at the elements of shape in an object.
All of which made me smile this morning when I opened up the website I was planning to use for our introduction to Vermeer, and saw this beautiful painting:
It's called "The Lacemaker" and it immediately spoke "attentiveness" to my soul. I quickly shifted from my original plans to look at another Vermeer painting and we spent time with this one. All during the rest of this busy and somewhat stressed day (I'm overwhelmed with work, fighting illness, and supporting my husband through a very stressful time in his family's life) I kept going back to the quiet serenity of this picture.
I love it when moments like these happen. Serendipity.
Tuesday, July 14, 2009
"Without One Star For Company"
In the morning when the sun
Is shining down on everyone
How strange to see a daytime moon
Floating like a pale balloon
Over house and barn and tree
Without one star for company.
~Dorothy Aldis
I love this poem. In fact, I loved it so much I set it to music when the sweet girl was a baby. I still have lovely memories of holding my chubby infant on my lap and crooning out the words; then later, when she reached toddler/preschool age, seeing her light up when I would sing it and hearing her begin to sing it too.
I still love this poem, but today it cracked me up. Or to be more precise, the sweet girl cracked me up. If I needed any more persuading that my seven year old has arrived firmly at the "grammar" stage of learning (the delight in facts stage, the "reality testing" stage) I need it no more.
When we left for camp this morning, the sky was a bright, vivid blue spread like a smooth canopy over the river valley. Not a cloud to be seen everywhere, but one pale white balloon of a waning gibbous moon right overhead as we walked.
"Look, Mommy, a day-time moon!" the sweet girl exclaimed, which is always cause for me to launch into the song. Which I did.
And my little girl paused thoughtfully. "I wonder why you can't see other stars in the day-time like you sometimes can the moon," she mused (sending my poetry mind reeling in the direction of Wendell Berry's "day-blind stars").
Then she added, "and why does she say 'without one star for company'? The sun IS a star, so the moon does have a star for company!"
Hmm. Good point. I suggested that perhaps the poet meant no other stars, but that the line worked best for the poem here. But my "just the facts" girl said "yes, but maybe she just didn't KNOW the sun was a star."
Of course the last time we read Eric Carle's The Hungry Caterpillar, that pillar of her toddler imagination, it also drove her buggy (pun intended) that Carle said cocoon instead of chrysalis.
Welcome to grammar land!
Is shining down on everyone
How strange to see a daytime moon
Floating like a pale balloon
Over house and barn and tree
Without one star for company.
~Dorothy Aldis
I love this poem. In fact, I loved it so much I set it to music when the sweet girl was a baby. I still have lovely memories of holding my chubby infant on my lap and crooning out the words; then later, when she reached toddler/preschool age, seeing her light up when I would sing it and hearing her begin to sing it too.
I still love this poem, but today it cracked me up. Or to be more precise, the sweet girl cracked me up. If I needed any more persuading that my seven year old has arrived firmly at the "grammar" stage of learning (the delight in facts stage, the "reality testing" stage) I need it no more.
When we left for camp this morning, the sky was a bright, vivid blue spread like a smooth canopy over the river valley. Not a cloud to be seen everywhere, but one pale white balloon of a waning gibbous moon right overhead as we walked.
"Look, Mommy, a day-time moon!" the sweet girl exclaimed, which is always cause for me to launch into the song. Which I did.
And my little girl paused thoughtfully. "I wonder why you can't see other stars in the day-time like you sometimes can the moon," she mused (sending my poetry mind reeling in the direction of Wendell Berry's "day-blind stars").
Then she added, "and why does she say 'without one star for company'? The sun IS a star, so the moon does have a star for company!"
Hmm. Good point. I suggested that perhaps the poet meant no other stars, but that the line worked best for the poem here. But my "just the facts" girl said "yes, but maybe she just didn't KNOW the sun was a star."
Of course the last time we read Eric Carle's The Hungry Caterpillar, that pillar of her toddler imagination, it also drove her buggy (pun intended) that Carle said cocoon instead of chrysalis.
Welcome to grammar land!
Thursday, August 28, 2008
Numbers and Letters
The sweet girl was drawing on the white board this afternoon. I paused as I was walking by and contemplated this:
1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10
W T T F F S S A N T
The numbers seemed straightforward enough, but I wasn't sure about the letters, so I asked.
"They're the beginning letter sound of each number," she explained simply.
Given the words won/one and ate/eight, I thought this was pretty impressive!
1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10
W T T F F S S A N T
The numbers seemed straightforward enough, but I wasn't sure about the letters, so I asked.
"They're the beginning letter sound of each number," she explained simply.
Given the words won/one and ate/eight, I thought this was pretty impressive!
Friday, August 15, 2008
The 100 Species Challenge
In recent years, I've spent far too much time feeling green-starved and yard-and-garden-hungry here in the post-industrial town that time forgot. Being called to urban ministry is a challenge as well as a blessing, and one of the challenges for me has definitely been green-hunger, especially since we're yardless.
One thing I've done to nourish my sanity and surrender to some more contentment is to begin to notice the created beauty that's around us, even in a small decaying city in the rust belt. I've been better at finding "pockets" of beauty, noticing things (with my eyes, my camera, sometimes my pen) growing between the cracks, sometimes quite literally. The sweet girl and I have taken a lot of nature walks, and I've tried to learn a bit about the plants and trees in our neighborhood.
So when I saw The 100 Species Challenge, I was intrigued, delighted (and yes, a little intimidated). My thanks to Melissa Wiley for posting this on her blog, where I originally saw it.
And what a great idea this is, to identify species within walking distance of where you live! Although I suspect my list will grow slowly, I'd like to give this a try -- if for no other reason than I'd love to continue to notice (and begin to name) more of the plants and trees around me. Like I said, it helps to measurably build my gratitude and contentment. Not to mention it helps me to be a better observer, and teach the sweet girl to be one too.
So here goes. The 100 species challenge! If you think you might like to participate too, see the link above. In accordance with the guidelines set out by the originator of the challenge, I'm also posting the rules here:
*********
The 100-Species Challenge
1. Participants should include a copy of these rules and a link to this entry in their initial blog post about the challenge. I will make a sidebar list of anyone who notifies me that they are participating in the Challenge.
2. Participants should keep a list of all plant species they can name, either by common or scientific name, that are living within walking distance of the participant's home. The list should be numbered, and should appear in every blog entry about the challenge, or in a sidebar.
3. Participants are encouraged to give detailed information about the plants they can name in the first post in which that plant appears. My format will be as follows: the numbered list, with plants making their first appearance on the list in bold; each plant making its first appearance will then have a photograph taken by me, where possible, a list of information I already knew about the plant, and a list of information I learned subsequent to starting this challenge, and a list of information I'd like to know. (See below for an example.) This format is not obligatory, however, and participants can adapt this portion of the challenge to their needs and desires.
4. Participants are encouraged to make it possible for visitors to their blog to find easily all 100-Species-Challenge blog posts. This can be done either by tagging these posts, by ending every post on the challenge with a link to your previous post on the challenge, or by some method which surpasses my technological ability and creativity.
5. Participants may post pictures of plants they are unable to identify, or are unable to identify with precision. They should not include these plants in the numbered list until they are able to identify it with relative precision. Each participant shall determine the level of precision that is acceptable to her; however, being able to distinguish between plants that have different common names should be a bare minimum.
6. Different varieties of the same species shall not count as different entries (e.g., Celebrity Tomato and Roma Tomato should not be separate entries); however, different species which share a common name be separate if the participant is able to distinguish between them (e.g., camillia japonica and camillia sassanqua if the participant can distinguish the two--"camillia" if not).
7. Participants may take as long as they like to complete the challenge. You can make it as quick or as detailed a project as you like. I'm planning to blog a minimum of two plants per week, complete with pictures and descriptions as below, which could take me up to a year. But you can do it in whatever level of detail you like.
****
And that's it! Stay tuned...I'll let you know how it's going. All my posts related to this will be tagged appropriately.
Tuesday, July 15, 2008
First Journal
I used to be a prolific journal-keeper. In the past several years, although I do still keep a journal, I write in it much more sporadically.
But I've been missing private journal keeping. It's always been a soul-nourishing activity for me, and this summer I decided to try to get back to making it a regular habit. A few weeks ago I purchased a brand new notebook and I've been delighting in writing in it more often.
It hadn't dawned on me how closely my daughter was watching, both when I purchased the journal and as she began to see me tote it around each day. When I bought it, we had a conversation about what a journal is, and I more or less explained that it was a place where you could write about your thoughts and feelings and the things you do each day. She seemed intrigued.
Several days ago she began making casual comments about "her journal." Things like: "I stayed up till 2 in the morning writing in my journal!" (hmmm...where did she get that one, I wonder?) and "I need to remember what we did today so I can write it in my journal." Always after these comments, she would look somewhat self-conscious and add "I'm only teasing" or "I'm just kidding...I don't really have a journal," or sometimes "Maybe one day when I'm older and can write better I can keep a journal."
And then it dawned on me how foolish it was not to seize this lovely creative and reflective moment. Who cares that her letters are sometimes still tipsy and she sometimes writes them backwards? Who ever said that you have years of writing practice behind you to keep a journal? I remembered that in my own more creative years of journal-keeping, I would sketch, jot words I liked, paste pictures from magazines, and slide snipped quotes inside the pages. Couldn't the sweet girl begin to keep her own kind of journal?
So I asked her if she wanted one. I explained what I just said...how a journal could be a creative place for her, even if she didn't write much in it yet, though of course she could use it for writing too. I called it a "special notebook."
And when we went to the store this past weekend, we headed down the notebook aisle and stood in front of a vast array and she chose one. I found myself guiding her toward smaller notebooks (she liked that) but the first one or two I picked up and suggested she didn't take much interest in. Her eyes lit up when she saw a little notebook with a purple spiral and colorful dots on the cover. It even had a little cardboard pocket on the inside cover. "I like this one!" she said, and I knew right away that it was her first journal. I should have remembered how important it feels for me to choose my own notebook, and how certain notebooks for certain seasons of my life just "feel right."
So that's the one we got. And yesterday, she asked me to please write down the day and date so she could copy those words onto the first page of her journal. I suggested she put her name on the front inside flap. She did all that, and then spent half an hour happily drawing pictures with colored pencils inside her own special little notebook. She wants to keep her journal near mine.
What a lovely unexpected summer gift: my little girl has become a journal-keeper!
But I've been missing private journal keeping. It's always been a soul-nourishing activity for me, and this summer I decided to try to get back to making it a regular habit. A few weeks ago I purchased a brand new notebook and I've been delighting in writing in it more often.
It hadn't dawned on me how closely my daughter was watching, both when I purchased the journal and as she began to see me tote it around each day. When I bought it, we had a conversation about what a journal is, and I more or less explained that it was a place where you could write about your thoughts and feelings and the things you do each day. She seemed intrigued.
Several days ago she began making casual comments about "her journal." Things like: "I stayed up till 2 in the morning writing in my journal!" (hmmm...where did she get that one, I wonder?) and "I need to remember what we did today so I can write it in my journal." Always after these comments, she would look somewhat self-conscious and add "I'm only teasing" or "I'm just kidding...I don't really have a journal," or sometimes "Maybe one day when I'm older and can write better I can keep a journal."
And then it dawned on me how foolish it was not to seize this lovely creative and reflective moment. Who cares that her letters are sometimes still tipsy and she sometimes writes them backwards? Who ever said that you have years of writing practice behind you to keep a journal? I remembered that in my own more creative years of journal-keeping, I would sketch, jot words I liked, paste pictures from magazines, and slide snipped quotes inside the pages. Couldn't the sweet girl begin to keep her own kind of journal?
So I asked her if she wanted one. I explained what I just said...how a journal could be a creative place for her, even if she didn't write much in it yet, though of course she could use it for writing too. I called it a "special notebook."
And when we went to the store this past weekend, we headed down the notebook aisle and stood in front of a vast array and she chose one. I found myself guiding her toward smaller notebooks (she liked that) but the first one or two I picked up and suggested she didn't take much interest in. Her eyes lit up when she saw a little notebook with a purple spiral and colorful dots on the cover. It even had a little cardboard pocket on the inside cover. "I like this one!" she said, and I knew right away that it was her first journal. I should have remembered how important it feels for me to choose my own notebook, and how certain notebooks for certain seasons of my life just "feel right."
So that's the one we got. And yesterday, she asked me to please write down the day and date so she could copy those words onto the first page of her journal. I suggested she put her name on the front inside flap. She did all that, and then spent half an hour happily drawing pictures with colored pencils inside her own special little notebook. She wants to keep her journal near mine.
What a lovely unexpected summer gift: my little girl has become a journal-keeper!
Wednesday, February 27, 2008
Kindergarten: The New "Harvard"?
Wow. I just read this story from the Chicago Tribune. It left me sort of speechless, and also very grateful that we're not putting ourselves or our daughter under the sort of pressure that would make a family vie for admissions in competitive kindergarten programs that cost 18,000 dollars per year. 18,000!
The idea of parents actually crafting resumes for their 4 and 5 year olds (talking up their terrific cognitive and fine motor skills) would be laughable if it wasn't so sobering. What kind of culture are we creating (have we created) that puts this kind of "learning pressure" on parents and families? Let them be children! Please!
Early learning should be a joy! And I'm sure many of the teachers in the prestigious schools talked about in that article know that, and make it so. But how sad that we can't find simpler, better ways of offering real teaching and learning options to parents and families, ones that are affordable and readily available to all. I honestly cannot see why early learning has to cost so much. Good public libraries, apples, colored pencils...those have been some of the main things we've used this year. Okay, I'm exaggerating slightly, but only slightly. We've been blessed with other things as well, such as internet access and some good books and curriculum. But it has not cost us an arm and a leg. And it's been a great kindergarten year.
And I empathize deeply, I truly do, with parents wanting to do what's best for their children, even when they don't always know what that is. I know homeschooling isn't for everyone, and for some folks really does not seem like an option even if they want to do it. I do not for a moment take for granted the blessing of our homeschooling efforts. They've cost us: not huge amounts of money, but huge amounts of effort to make this work as a family. It's not easy for us either, given our vocations, location, and financial struggles, to make homeschooling a priority. We've managed so far by the grace of God, who has provided the work we've needed and the flexibility in work schedules, and we're going to keep trusting that He will continue to see us through in those areas.
And in the meantime, I'm just going to be grateful for the joy of teaching and learning together, and the relief that I don't feel the pressure to craft a resume for my five year old.
The idea of parents actually crafting resumes for their 4 and 5 year olds (talking up their terrific cognitive and fine motor skills) would be laughable if it wasn't so sobering. What kind of culture are we creating (have we created) that puts this kind of "learning pressure" on parents and families? Let them be children! Please!
Early learning should be a joy! And I'm sure many of the teachers in the prestigious schools talked about in that article know that, and make it so. But how sad that we can't find simpler, better ways of offering real teaching and learning options to parents and families, ones that are affordable and readily available to all. I honestly cannot see why early learning has to cost so much. Good public libraries, apples, colored pencils...those have been some of the main things we've used this year. Okay, I'm exaggerating slightly, but only slightly. We've been blessed with other things as well, such as internet access and some good books and curriculum. But it has not cost us an arm and a leg. And it's been a great kindergarten year.
And I empathize deeply, I truly do, with parents wanting to do what's best for their children, even when they don't always know what that is. I know homeschooling isn't for everyone, and for some folks really does not seem like an option even if they want to do it. I do not for a moment take for granted the blessing of our homeschooling efforts. They've cost us: not huge amounts of money, but huge amounts of effort to make this work as a family. It's not easy for us either, given our vocations, location, and financial struggles, to make homeschooling a priority. We've managed so far by the grace of God, who has provided the work we've needed and the flexibility in work schedules, and we're going to keep trusting that He will continue to see us through in those areas.
And in the meantime, I'm just going to be grateful for the joy of teaching and learning together, and the relief that I don't feel the pressure to craft a resume for my five year old.
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