Flashback post from February 2008

When you take on the monumental task of teaching your own children, there is a lurking question: Will I miss something? I answered that one long ago with a resolved yes. Even with my own public school education, gaps abound. God's world is too vast to master it all. But last week, out of curiosity, I opened a science scope book I have on the shelf. I don't know why I have it. I can look at my girls and be completely content with their progress, but one peek in a book like that has potential to stir up all kinds of panic. As I browsed the book, I noticed that Rebekah's age group should know about the food groups. Of course, I try to feed the girls healthy, well-balanced meals, and we talk about healthy eating, but I've never "studied" it with Rebekah. Oh no, a gap!

Interestingly, the next day Rebekah wanted barley for lunch. As she ate, she asked, "Mom, is this healthy?" (another way of saying, "Look at this healthy lunch I'm eating, Mom.) I told her it was healthy but not well-balanced. Suddenly we were in a conversation about food groups which reminded her of a picture she saw in a book. She brought me a full-page, full-color picture of the food pyramid. In the following days, she purposed to have as many representatives of each group as possible on her plate.

This simple scenario reassured me yet again that I don't need to follow someone else's prescribed curriculum to avoid the dreaded gaps. Just by living life and seizing the moment--at least this time--Rebekah could check the box on the scope (figuratively speaking, of course). But even taking me out of the equation she, being a learner herself, knew where to look for additional information. If she can do that, I'm confident she will be able to fill those pesky gaps as they appear.

Now, will you remind me of that next time I look at one of those scope books?

Flashback post from March 2008

I checked a book out of the library on Thursday that has me intrigued. It's called Mindset. In its 239 pages, Carol S. Dweck, Ph.D. presents two mindsets out of which people operate, and many examples from her research to illustrate these two mindsets. The fixed mindset and the growth mindset are very different and can, Dweck claims, make a huge difference in how we approach life.

Where do you primarily see your own mindset?

Fixed mindset Traits:

*Abilities need to be proven
*Failure = setback = not smart or talented
*Non-learner
*Belief that intelligence is fixed/can't be changed
*Fear of deficiencies being exposed
*Enjoyment of things safely within their grasp
*Loss of enjoyment if something is too challenging
*Expectation that an ability shows up on its own (i.e. it's natural) before any learning takes place
*Belief that one test/evaluation can measure them forever
*Prefer success over growth--desiring to prove they are special or superior
*Failure is not an action; it's an identity

Growth Mindset Traits:

*Love a challenge
*Abilities developed through learning
*Failure = not fulfilling potential
*Learner
*Belief that they can change/develop their intelligence
*Thrive when they are stretched
*Determination
*A test/evaluation can't project the future
*Belief that it takes time for potential to flower
*Failure is an action, not an identity
*Value the process regardless of the outcome

Throughout the vast majority of my life, I have definitely had a fixed mindset. As a youth, I was known as a perfectionist. Anything less than an "A" meant failure. I didn't take risks because I was afraid of failing. If anyone said I was good at anything, I could easily be puffed up and at the same time fear that I would be exposed as a phony. I wanted to be the best.

I talk about this as though it's past tense, but much of it lingers to this day. I thank the Lord, though, that He is truly changing me. He has yoked me with a growth-minded husband and surrounded me with growth-minded friends. Best of all, He is a growth-minded God who is committed to sanctifying His children that we may become more like Him and increasingly glorify Him.

Yes, this book is secular, but it's interesting to compare the two lists. (Context from the book is helpful, I'm sure.) One is the path of humility, one of pride. One needs the help of the Holy Spirit, one doesn't. One can be Christ-centered if the one is a believer. The other is me-centered.

I would enjoy discussing this book with a friend (or two or three), especially to ensure I am thinking biblically but also to help me (and hopefully you) continue to grow and to pass this gift to my (your) children. Any takers?

Flashback post from March 2008

A couple of years ago, a friend asked me why we homeschool. I began this list.

Homeschooling allows us to maximize time with our children. We have time to instill godly values into them, training them "in the way they should go."

Their childhood isn’t lost to inflexible schedules (arise early, spend a structured day at school, do homework, play with neighbors, go to bed early, start over the next day).

They develop strong relationships and make countless memories with siblings as they learn and play together. At school, they wouldn’t have the same studies or experiences, so it would be harder for them to bridge the gap.

Questions they have throughout the day can be asked immediately. I can answer (or at least try).

Books are for learning and pleasure, and there’s time to enjoy them. I’ve read that school actually takes away kids’ love of reading because it’s not done for pleasure but for required assignments. Homework sucks up time they would have for pleasure reading.

Evenings are free of homework.

Assignments are meant for learning, not to assess where my children are. (That means no book reports and tests.)

Similarly, they are motivated to learn, not to earn a grade. (We don’t assign grades here. The girls work for excellence.)

We can develop a lifestyle of learning. It’s not relegated to specific hours or a certain number of days. Our girls haven’t been programmed that way, so they are happy to do school even in the summer.

We can adjust our school year to suit ourselves. On beautiful spring days, we don’t have to press through, wishing we could be outside. We enjoy the days. During the hot days, when it’s too uncomfortable to be outside, we learn inside. We can be flexible in December as we prepare for Christmas. If grandparents come for a week, we are available the entire time.

School has a broader definition. It can mean sewing days, craft days, field trips, cooking days….

I can work daily with heart issues in our children (and my own which may be provoked by the children).

We don’t need to reteach values that others may be giving in another setting, even a Christian one.

We have more opportunities to go for nature walks, just to explore and enjoy God’s creation.

We have time available to serve others. At one time we visited Alzheimer’s patients at the nursing home. Now the two older girls serve as mother’s helpers.

Vacations are more flexible. We can avoid peak season.

The girls can progress at their own pace. If they get it immediately, they don’t have to wait for the rest of the class. If it takes them longer, they’re not left behind or labeled. In fact, they don’t get boxed into any of the labels kids get in school. The girls know which grade they would be in at school, just to help them answer the what-grade-are-you-in question, but it means next to nothing here at home. If they can handle “6th grade work” (whatever that is) in 3rd grade, so be it. If my sixth grader can handle algebra, then she does it in 6th grade. She doesn’t have to wait until it’s customarily offered.

We can monitor their relationships more closely and help them respond in a godly way to ungodly influences.

Socialization is richer in homeschooling. The girls are learning to interact and communicate with people of all ages, not only those in their grades. They can comfortably converse with adults, then run and play with other children.

We are their primary influence, not their peers.

Mom continues to learn.

And the list could go on! Do you have anything to add?

Flashback post from March 2008

Have you ever noticed that twisting sensation when your brain bumps into something new? I have. My body tenses; my eyes squinch; my brain begins its contortions. Sometimes I hear a voice say, "You can't." At other times, I hear one calling, "Keep trying."

Learning can hurt.

I've put in my years in the classroom, so I suppose I could coast now as I require my children to take up the mantle of learning. But why give up now? Don't I have all eternity to discover my infinite God and explore the Home He has prepared for His children?

Ah, yes, I must press on.

I've already mentioned the math class I'm taking. I worked ahead of the others, so the leader suggested working on Sudoku puzzles. "Ugh," was my first thought. Since we have a little book of the puzzles, I decided to give them a shot. The first two fit together magically. I don't know what happened with the third puzzle, but the magic was definitely missing. Do you know what happens when you make it through almost an entire puzzle, only to discover you have two 4's in a row with no remedy other than to erase the 4 you especially like? My brain does those twisty things and my poor eyes, which keep lobbying for bifocals, strain. No one stands over me insisting that I master Sudoku, but I can't quit. I want to figure out the proper homes for those annoying little numbers.

Today I took the girls to drawing class. I can't draw--or so I've insisted for most of my life. The teacher thinks otherwise. To help me jump the "I can't" hurdle, she told me to sit down and join the class today. Suddenly, the familiar symptoms returned. I wanted to quit. Then I looked around the table at the children doing their work with confidence, none of them older than twelve. I knew I had to persevere--at least for the hour. Besides, some of them know me as a teacher. Can a teacher declare, "I can't"?

Somehow along the way, maybe I am developing a bit of sympathy for my own children. I have one who turns angry at the sight of difficulty. Another lets the tears flow. The third would rather play. I correct. I encourage. My desire is that they find ways to deal with the pain of learning when it appears but not with their natural responses. When it's tempting to quit, we can learn a better way--the way of prayer, patience, and perseverance. And humility. Our inability points to the ability of Another Who is faithful to refine and help us.

Toward the end of drawing class today, I silently schemed to set my drawing aside and quit. Who would know or care? Then out of the mouth of the ten-year-old babe next to me came the words: "Don't give up."

Those words ring in my ears and urge me to press on.