Category: Education

D.I.Y. Bar Mitzvah

Posted on by Suki

When my husband and I started talking about having kids, the first thing he said was, “I want to raise my kids Jewish.” I answered, “What does that mean to you?” And we’ve been trying to figure that out ever since.

We are not a religious family. I was raised Catholic by scientist parents who stayed with the church for the sake of tradition and community, but made it pretty clear that (like most American Catholics) their views didn’t align with the edicts coming down from Rome. My husband comes from a long line of Jewish rabble-rousers — socialists who expressed their Jewishness in the spirit of tikkun olam — “heal the world.” He had a Bar Mitvah, but they seldom went to temple otherwise.

So what does it mean to us to raise Jewish children? For me, it meant education. Although I’d always had Jewish friends, and I had a vague sense of the basics of Judaism, I had not scratched the surface of a religious tradition that goes back before written history started. As soon as our kids’ Jewish education started, in preschool, I felt lost amidst a body of learning that Jewish children absorb slowly, through practice in their households. At preschool, we learned the basics of celebrating Shabbat and the major holidays.

Then our son aged out of preschool and it was on to Temple school. We’d fit in pretty well at preschool — one teacher in particular was such a perfect nurturer for my unusual little beings that we still keep in touch. But Temple school was a different story. Most of the kids found it fun; our shy son usually ended up in tears. This is not to criticize our local temple for how they run their school — it works great for most kids. It just didn’t quite align with our needs. We tried out another school, which was better but didn’t work out for location and scheduling reasons. And then we were on our own.

I guess our Jewish schooling story is a bit like our schooling story in general: We tried out all the possible options, and though we could see that the schools we tried were great schools for some kids, they didn’t work for ours.

We ended up doing the same thing with our Jewish education that we did with the rest of their education: cobbling up something that fit with our family’s needs. It was not orthodox, but it’s been a wonderful experience for our family.

Last weekend was our son’s Bar Mitzvah. He has been working with a wonderful tutor, whose job was not only to prepare our son for his Bar Mitzvah, but also to help us as a family figure out what our son’s Bar Mitzvah was going to mean to us.

The B’nai Mitzvah (that’s for either gender — for girls it’s Bat Mitzvah) is the rite of passage into adulthood for Jews. By becoming a Bar Mitzvah, a boy declares that he is taking responsibility for his actions. When we started the process, it seemed forced. How can you get a kid to get meaning out of this process? But as we approached the actual event, it seemed that the event itself was bringing about the change that it required. Our son, after a year of intermittent gritted teeth resolve and pleading not to do it, became committed to the process. He read, studied, and learned. He started to take responsibility for his actions.

Ours was a pretty unusual celebration. Usually done in a temple, our son became a Bar Mitzvah in a tent in an olive orchard on my parents’ farm. Usually surrounded by a Jewish congregation, we invited the people who we felt would most appreciate sharing the day with him. We couldn’t invite everyone we wanted to, so it was winnowed down to some of our closest friends (few of them Jewish), teachers from 3 periods in his life, relatives who had been a part of his life (most of them not Jewish),  relatives we wished we could spend more time with. Three of my husband’s cousins came to take part in the ceremony, which meant a lot to us.

In the end, the Bar Mitzvah we made was probably rather different than what we ever would have pictured. But it was perfect for our son and for our family. After a nail-biting couple of months, sure it was going to be pouring that day, we got a gorgeous, mild winter day. Coming back from the house just after sunset, I saw the tent lighted from within, the moon a sliver so small it doesn’t show up on the photo, flanked by Venus and Jupiter, shining brightly over the scene. The kids were blowing bubbles and chasing each other down the hillside. The adults chatted over homemade wine and olive oil.

A little off-beat, on familiar turf, it was the Bar Mitzvah that fit our family.

 

On learning and remembering

Posted on by Suki

Neither of my kids learned their multiplication facts on schedule. The way the public school standards tell it, kids are just supposed to do it in third grade. You know, the way they’re supposed to walk on schedule, talk on schedule, and read on schedule. My kids have been equally as dismal at being “normal” in all those categories!

Schools assume that you learn things in order, and all their materials are based on that assumption. And even materials that are not created for public schools tend to follow the same assumptions.

The thing is, kids don’t learn things in a standard order. In fact, it’s often the kids who are eventually going to become masters in a subject who seem to lag behind. There are numerous tales of mathematicians who couldn’t add their way out of a paper bag. (“Let’s see, one paper bag plus one mathematician… Oh, geez, I really should have memorized that one before I got stuck in this bag!’) It’s heartening to know this, but when you’re in the thick of it, having a math-smart kid who can’t remember 7×8 — much less 5×6 — is hard to deal with.

A recent e-mail list discussion I was in on tackled this subject. Here is some of the wisdom I gained.

First of all, question why your child has to memorize math facts, and if it’s in his/her best interest to force it right now:

  • Does your child need to learn them because she’s in school and her teacher is pressuring her?
  • Does your child need to learn them because not knowing them is holding him back from doing math he enjoys?
  • Does your child need to learn them for reasons of self-esteem? (Kids who can’t seem to memorize random bits of information are often at a disadvantage in our schools.)

Secondly, be aware that there is absolutely no correlation with ability to memorize and overall intelligence. They are separate traits with nothing bit a tangential relationship.

  • A fairly large amount of successful people have trouble with rote memorization. That’s why they went into professions where rote memorization was not necessary for success.
  • Our schools operate on the assumption that certain types of learners should be rewarded, while all others should be punished into becoming the “right” kind of learner. But if your kid has trouble with rote memorization, there is no research that indicates that this will ever change, no matter what consequences she faces.
  • The “visual spatial” learning style is particularly noted for producing kids who have trouble with math facts. Visual spatial learners are very likely to have trouble in school, except in art class, shop, geometry, and other disciplines where their skills shine through. [Learn more about VS learners here.]

If there is a good reason that your child has to learn math facts, try a variety of methods in order to determine the one that “speaks” to your child’s way of thinking. Methods include:

  • Visual representation with blocks, pictures, or manipulatives. Make sure that your child really gets that when you say “2 times 4” you really mean take 2 of something and count it  4 times.
  • Different aural approaches like singing (lots of kids like Multiplication Rock or the silly rhyming method which I can’t seem to find a reference to but will at some point!)
  • The analytic approach: Show your child how you can fill in almost all of a multiplication table just by using the facts she already knows. Talk about how to quickly come up with math facts that he can’t remember off the top of his head.
  • The project-based approach: Take math facts as the starting point to do the sort of project your child likes. Incorporate math facts as part of the project. One of my daughter’s teachers, for example, had kids build “factories” out of recycled containers that spit out math facts on slips of paper.
  • The carrot-and-stick approach: You don’t necessarily have to pay, but find a way to reward each math fact earned. It could be as simple as the method we’re doing right now, where the math facts she doesn’t know are stuck on the walls of our breakfast room. Each day, if she can tell us the answer to one without hesitation, she gets to take it off the wall.
  • Association: This is the most tried and true method of memorization, but it’s hard for a lot of people to do with numbers. The basic principle is this: Find something to associate with each number, and practice the association so that it’s grouped with the number in your head. People who see numbers as colors or smells do this instinctively, but it is possible to create these associations on purpose.
  • Games: Any game that requires math will help. A good one I got recently is Muggins, which is quite fun.
  • If your kid loves computer games, find games like Timez Attack and let them play.

The main thing to remember about memorization is that the harder you force, the harder the brain fights back. Kids’ brains learn best through play — when it becomes work, it’s time to take a break. Sometimes that break can stretch out for a long time…much longer than the school standards might want to admit. But if the eventual goal is a happy, well-educated child, the standards just sometimes have to wait.

 

Just about 1/4 mile

Posted on by Suki

My older child has been working on his science fair project. He’s highly motivated this year, having noticed last year how the stakes were raised: they expect more, but they give more. And he’s a computer-obsessed kid who is saving for a new computer. So he’s got this idea that his science fair entry could win him some money to put toward this purpose, and he’s been working on it as much as we have let him.

Since my husband and I both work with computers, we know a thing or two about it. And one thing we know, that we’ve been trying to impart to our kids, is that sometimes the best way to solve a problem you’re having at the computer is… NOT at the computer.

This may be true in general: When you stand at a locked door literally banging your head against the wall to get in, it’s very easy to ignore the open door around the corner.

The thing is, computers have this way of sucking us in. We become hyper-focused, not noticing anything in our surroundings, answering “mm-hm” to pretty much anything someone asks us. (My kids take advantage of this last feature relatively often, knowing that they might get a distracted “mm-hm” to pretty much any question if they ask it when I’m very busy!)

So even though it’s true of any problem that sometimes the best way to solve it is to walk away from it, I think it’s even more true of sedentary, hyperfocused work like computer programming.

That’s one reason I treasure my solitary morning walk: I often “write” more while out on a walk than in front of a computer.

In fact, I composed most of this piece while walking on Sunday morning. In that case, however, it wasn’t my solitary walk. I had convinced my very reluctant boy to tear his focus from the computer screen and ride his bike on my walk.

He was very reluctant. “I’m in the middle of trying to figure out a really hard problem,” he told me. “This isn’t a good time to go for a walk.”

“This is a perfect time to go for a walk,” I assured him. After some cajoling (and perhaps some not-so-veiled threats), I got him out the door. He got on his bike and rode out ahead of me as I walked. He zoomed down the road, then turned and came back to me.

As he approached, I saw the smile on his face.

“I think I figured out my problem!” he said.

We were about 1/4 mile from our house.

Sometimes that’s all it takes. You walk away from the problem, putter in the garden, or take a nap. And then suddenly, the problem that seemed unsolvable only a short time before presents itself fully formed in your mind.

We got back from our walk and I said, “OK, go solve your problem!”

He bounded up the stairs with a smile on his face, some fresh air in his lungs, and freshly stimulated neurons ready to go to work again.

A passionate plea for more mud pies

Posted on by Suki

You’d think that hanging out with homeschoolers, as I do, would insulate me from people who feel the need to do academics with kindergarteners. However, amongst new homeschoolers you hear this common refrain: I really don’t know how to homeschool, so I just want to find a curriculum in a box I can do with my five-year-old. The people saying this mean well—they really think that a curriculum-in-a-box will be better for their children than just hanging out with mom and doing whatever lame stuff she comes up with. But those parents have fallen into the same trap as the administrators of our public education system. They think this is some kind of race, and they’ll be hurting their children if they don’t get them on the track and running as soon as possible.

I should have read it long ago, but I recently read what should be required reading for new homeschoolers, Tammy Takahashi’s Deschooling Gently. Takahashi’s book is considered a classic amongst homeschoolers, who see the process of “deschooling” a child who has attended school before homeschooling as key to homeschooling success. However, I found that the book had a lot more to say to me as an adult: How many of my ideas are residual bits of misinformation planted by my many years in school? All of us have this stuff stuck in there, even if we’ve consciously denied its validity.

Our feelings about “academic” education, in particular, are strong. Many of us inherently believe that “earlier is better” and that there’s something wrong with letting a child play if he can’t read yet. We haven’t turned out in mass protests as our public schools are pushing academics earlier into the curriculum, forcing out such kindergarten staples as finger painting, story telling, and free play on the playground.

The thing is, every single educator worth listening to has read the data and knows this simple fact: The most educated people in the world are not necessarily the people who had academics shoved at them at an early age. Forcing academics earlier into the American public schools is not going to slow the decline of our kids’ education. In fact, it might hurry it up.

Finland is an oft-cited example. There, they don’t even start teaching reading till around the age of 7, and academics, such as they are, are hands-on and cooperative until the higher grades. No tests, no grades, just fun. How can that be?

Well, I can give you plenty of examples closer to home: Millions of successful adults in America. If you went to public school in the 70’s, it is very unlikely you did any sort of academics in kindergarten. Sure, you probably sang the alphabet song and learned to write your name, but you spent as much time learning how to tie shoes and, yes, doing finger painting as anything academic. Those Americans who were educated in the 60’s and 70’s are no sorry bunch. You’ll find them at every successful technology company, in every important medical lab, in government buildings making decisions about our national safety, and making fabulous art, music, and literature.

Keep in mind, these people did not do academics in kindergarten. They didn’t get recess canceled because they couldn’t read. Their schools didn’t get denied funds or have every teacher replaced by a stranger because of their parents’ socio-economic status. And yet, here they are, leading the fastest technological and scientific change ever before seen by humankind.

There are better ways to educate than to force five-year-olds to study. I say, Let them make mud pies! Let them develop their minds at the same time as their hands, their bodies, their hearts, and their souls. There will be plenty of time for them to sit in front of a computer. But as we adults know, there’s limited time later in life to contemplate the wonderful feeling of mud between your fingers.

I am not a homeschool anarchist

Posted on by Suki

I read with interest this piece in the New York Times: My Parents Were Homeschooling Anarchists. It’s an interesting piece that is so resonant of the era in which it took place. I enjoyed reading it and learning what the kids are doing now as adults.

However, articles like this reenforce the idea that all homeschoolers are eccentric weirdos who don’t care if their kids learn to do math.

So, I’m wondering, can we just call off this idiotic conversation, already? You know the one: Homeschoolers are right-wing separatist Christian child-abusers whose kids don’t know how to talk to other people and are learning only the parts of the Bible that their parents agree with. Alternately, homeschoolers are left-wing anarchist child-worshipers who don’t discipline their kids and let them run wild with flowers in their hair.

Now, don’t get me wrong: I’m not telling you that there are no homeschoolers who fit these descriptions. And I’m not telling you that homeschoolers are normal. In fact, fierce pride in bucking societal expectations is pretty much a necessary ingredient in homeschooling parents.

However, I am here to say that homeschoolers, just like everyone else, are not stereotypes. Stereotypes are amplified from the most shocking, unusual, and outrageous examples within a community. When white actors put on blackface, they didn’t make themselves up to look like Denzel Washington. When anti-Semites talk about money-hungry Jews, they don’t hold up Elie Wiesel as their example.

I urge you to read the New York Times article, and then flip back here for a few rebuttals:

OK, I admit that this much is true: Some homeschoolers prefer the company of goats to humans. But really, can you blame them?

1) We are not anarchists.

OK, we’re also not card-carrying members of the middle-of-the-road club. My husband and I are both people who are willing to go against societal norms when it’s important to us. We’re both big believers in an open society in which people should be allowed to be themselves, as long as it’s not harming other people. So yes, we support gay marriage though we are heterosexual. Yes, we support religious freedom, though our household is largely secular. And yes, we support every person’s right to wear whatever outrageous clothing that makes their heart flutter with joy!

But we also believe in a society with laws, behavioral norms that allow us to live closely and comfortably, and reasonable ways to dissent.

This description would fit hundreds of homeschoolers I have personally met.

2) We parent our children.

Our children are not running wild. Although one of them has behavioral difficulties that might make it seem like we don’t teach discipline, we do in fact believe in discipline. Hopefully, if we’re doing the job we think we’re doing, we’re teaching our kids self-discipline. Because discipline imposed for no obvious reason teaches kids nothing. Teaching them to understand themselves and other people, to think about how their actions affect the world, and to work to change themselves when they see room for improvement is an integral part of our parenting.

On the other hand, we are not stifling our children. We do allow them lots of free play time. We do allow them to make their own choices even when we know that it’s probably not the right choice. We allow them to make decisions about their own bodies, which is how we ended up with a boy with long hair for four years and now a girl with short hair who wears boys’ clothing.

This description would fit hundreds of homeschoolers I have personally met.

3) We believe in education.

We are homeschooling because we believe in education, and when we looked at our child’s needs, we decided that homeschooling was the best choice for now. We are not anti-school, and we fully hope and expect that our kids will seek advanced degrees at university. We want our kids to be exposed to all the knowledge that they would in school and more. We want them to master all the math they’ll need to pursue a technical degree at college, all the understanding of geography, history, and society that will help them understand world events that happen in their lifetimes, and all of the science that will allow them to pursue college level science and at the very least, understand what a scientific study really means and question people’s assumptions about scientific truth.

On the other hand, we don’t believe that kids need to be bored in order to learn. We don’t think that doing well on standardized tests is a full measure of a student’s achievement. We don’t think that our kids should be force-fed anything, should ever have to deal with a teacher who doesn’t respect them and their intelligence, or spend their time doing nothing while waiting for other people to catch up.

This description would fit hundreds of homeschoolers I have personally met.

4) We want our kids to be socially adept.

On any given day, our children deal with a wider range of people than any school child ever could. They have five very different and very wonderful teachers in their homeschool program, each of whom inspires and challenges them in a different way. They work with other homeschooling kids and parents on projects almost every week. They count as their friends people from a few months old to eighty years old. My son volunteers in the community. My daughter works with therapists and other teachers to learn correct social interactions, which are difficult for her. Our children see how the world works while other kids are in school.

On the other hand, we don’t think our kids should stay in situations where they are being abused. We have taught them to speak up when there’s a problem and to respect themselves. When they go off on their own, my hope is that they will never suffer through a badly taught college course, because they will vote with their feet as soon as their professor proves herself inadequate. They will not be sexually abused because they will seek out loving relationships. They will not put up with abusive social groups because they know that there are great people out there who will someday be their friends. They will know how to be alone with themselves and enjoy the company.

This description would fit hundreds of homeschoolers I have personally met.

5) We are not homeschooling in order to insult you.

Lastly, homeschoolers do not choose this path in order to insult parents who have chosen school, in order to insult teachers, or in order to insult schools. We chose it each for our own reasons, but our choice is ours. Just as my choosing to wear black leather boots doesn’t offend your sneakers, our choosing one method of schooling does not make any commentary, negative or positive, about yours.

So let’s get this straight: Homeschoolers, like all people, are not stereotypes. We are people who care deeply about our children and believe that we are giving them a good education. We do tend to veer a bit off the beaten path, be divergent thinkers, and choose a more interesting over an easy route. But in general, I think we’re a pretty tolerable bunch. So when you read articles like this, uninformed opinions like these, see nutty homeschoolers on reality TV, or read books in which we’re stereotyped over and over, remember that stereotypes, by their very nature, can never tell the full story.

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