What Dyslexia Looks Like

Well, we have officially decided to homeschool Cooper.  Casey wants to participate in teaching Cooper Science.  In essence both of us will work to educate him.  Will, however, will remain at public school a while longer.  I have worked long and hard to get him an IEP and want to be sure he has a chance to function in the school setting with proper supports before I make any decisions about home schooling him, not to mention he is quite the EXTROVERT, and I don't think he'd thrive at home.  I would like to keep him in a classroom setting for as long as possible.   However, given his dyslexia and giftedness I am open to finding ways to allow him to co-learn at home.  I am after all the most qualified professional in his life to deal with his complex educational profile.  On some levels it just stinks that I am his mom.

Anyway,  today I really wanted to show my readers what dyslexia LOOKS like.  I talk about it, but unless you see it you have no idea.  My hope is that this little exposure increases awareness, after all this was my passion long before my son was diagnosed.  In fact he may still be un-diagnosed if this weren't my passion.
Below is a letter he wrote to us.  As you can see from his teacher's comment, this is an example of his BEST work.  You will find a translation (corrected spelling, but not punctuation- lack of awareness of punctuation is a part of dyslexia) at the end of each page of the letter. Oh, and he is nearly 9 and in 2nd grade (He should be in 3rd grade.  I demanded that he repeat 1st grade, long story.)  For those of you who don't know him, he is INCREDIBLY bright.  We thought he'd surely be in the gifted class, as he was putting together large puzzles with no difficulty as a toddler.  He is articulate, creative, and can execute math problems far above his grade level.  He frequently discusses theological and philosophical ideas that most adults cannot grasp, yet this is his best writing.

"Once there was a person that wanted to be mean and called me a fatty and when I got. Home I felt bad so I worked out a lot until I was as skinny as a ???? my friends helped me feel better but it still did
         Not work the next day I woke up and kind of showed my muscles and the person called me fat.  I just walked away and made a club called (no mean club) so when. The person came I let him in checked for any mean tools he had none so I kept an eye on that guy."

"and then he. Then tried to hurt kids so I telled him to get out but he said "no" so I throw him out of the club.  And to never come back so he did what I said.
                  and never came back.  I felt happy that I stopped the person from being mean to other people and meand he never ever was mean to anyone again.  And that was that and that person was never mean again and I also stopped that person from being a bully and he started a new life and was nice and not mean so he became my friend and I reminded him not to be."

Again, this is some of his best work.  As you see there are reversals, but the reversals are a symptom.  You can put cute little "b","d","p","q" visuals up all you want, but it won't help.  That, in and of itself, is akin to learning by osmosis for him and any other dyslexic for that matter. The bigger picture is his lack of awareness of the functioning of letters, phonemes (which are letter combos that make certain sounds like "th"), and sentence structure.  His brain is not only NOT hard wired for this information, it is wired counter to being able to understand these concepts.  This means manually inputting this information into his brain and reconstructing his synapses.  Yep, Call me brain reconstructor.  He doesn't understand the squiggle that looks like "q" makes the "qua" sound or that the little symbol that looks like "p" makes the "pee" sound.  Which is why he reverses them.  He doesn't get the idea that a "." means the end of a written idea.  The correlation between spoken and written word doesn't exist for him or other dyslexics.  This is a kid that at 8 could add and subtract 2 and 3 digit numbers, gets general concepts of things like the "string theory" and frequently asks deep theological questions.  He is incredibly bright.  Dyslexia occurs only in people with average, to (more often than not) above average intelligence.  Einstein and Edison come to mind.  Yep they were dyslexic.

One thing I fear about him in public school is that like the two men I just mentioned, my son will be cast off as being of below average intelligence because of his poor spelling and grammar.  Worse yet, if he doesn't receive proper interventions he will continue to learn to read far after the school has him reading to learn.  He will lose out on information needed to build his basis of knowledge in subjects like social studies and science, not because he CAN'T learn it, but because it isn't delivered to him in a fashion that is efficient for his brain.  He will fall behind and be placed in lower track classes.  I saw this far too often as a teacher; kids who fall grade levels behind, but are as intelligent, if not more intelligent than their peers.  This one little dirty word is why.  It isn't recognized by IDEA or NCLB as a disability in and of itself.  Instead it gets classified as "written expression" or "reading comprehension"  and schools treat the symptoms and not the problem.  I have worked with several kids one on one to "reconstruct" their synapses so that they might, when they were done with me go out on their own WITHOUT an IEP or a crutch and be able to function to their IQ.  Heck, I taught my son to read, I had to pull him out of school to do it.  I still work with him on spelling, but these brains need intensive sessions.  They need to be pushed to the point of hurting, literally, which is why it's a curse that his mother is his best resource.  I guess I hope that this gets out there for two reasons: 1.) so parents who think there is something just not quite right with "johnny" or "jane" can look at this and say, that's my kid.  Then they'd have a place to start looking.  2.) So myths that educators cling to can be debunked and students' true issues can be addressed.

Also, wasn't his letter BEAUTIFUL!  What a beautiful little lion of a soul he has.  If I didn't have so much practice reading this kadiwompus writing I may never have decoded the hidden message.  He is a writer, an author, with important things to say.  It is OUR responsibility to be sure all kids are given the tools to communicate their messages to the world!

P.S. WORLD, he is built like an ADONIS!  He could be the son of Hercules or Beowulf.  He is about as much of a "fatty" as a Hanes underwear model!

It takes more

It takes more than
a mother to
raise a child and it
takes more than
a mother to fail a child.
It takes a community,
a village,
an Army of acquaintances an
an Army of choosing
silence or action.
of Choosing apathy
or offering. An Army of "do you need"s and
"would you like"s A tribe of smiles, and open
arms help build steps and platforms
for children to climb above
the hurt, and the anger.  The debris of rejection.
So, if a child fails do not blame the mother.
The face of the abuser is the abused.
The hands that committed the crime were
first the hands of a victim
asking, "where was my Army"?
Children, like moths, flock to the light.  If only a few had
the courage shine for them.
If not, the darkness will grow inside of them until they are darkness looking
exterminate that which makes them remember
they were unworthy
of
being
RAISED
above the
debris.

Birth Right

Shameless stolen from "Marley's Mama"

We have been reading "The Hunger Games" out loud as a family.  It has sort of taken over our lives.  My husband called me on lunch yesterday, "Hunger Games tonight" he said.  He walked in the door just after 4:30, "Ready to read the Hunger Games?"  Oh sure, never mind dinner, homework, or that I've had the flu.  The man has become absorbed.  Alright, maybe he isn't the only one.  Needless to say the boys were up until 9 pm while we finished reading the last 6 chapters of Book one.  We read through the preparation and consumption of our dinner, thanks to my lack of appetite.  We read as we drove the 20 minutes to my car, still at the middle school where I left yesterday because I was too ill to drive myself home.  We read together as the boys prepared for bed.  When we finished the book, my husband picked up the second book and began reading silently to himself and was promptly scolded by the boys and I, "NO CHEATING".   I call this obsession, "Family Reading Night".  I'm not sure how long this will last, but I know that we have two more books, and it will last at least that long.  To the boys, that will be long enough to feel, "permanent".  In their adult memories it will seem like a tradition that always was.  This is how things are measured in, "kid time".

We have "Family Movie Night" too.  It isn't a prescribed weekly event.  It is homemade Pizza, popcorn, Blankets galore, and a movie we all want to watch.  I can't really make that happen EVERY week.  I make that happen when I have a movie we all like in our Instant Que on Netflix, and the energy to make the food.  Again, they will remember this a tradition whether it happens every week, or every couple of weeks.  It happens regularly enough to be a part of our family identity, or at least to be ingrained in them as part of their family's identity, "kid time". This whole "Family Identity" thing didn't happen by accident, or over night for that matter.  It is something I began thinking about shortly after one of my students was shot in a drive by while I student teaching.  Weird?  It's true.

Staring at a spontaneously emptied desk for weeks will really mess with you.  Passing conversations you never intended to remember echo in your mind, "Mrs. G I forgot my homework at my crib." as he bounced from left to right.  "Really?  You sleep in a crib?  My son sleeps in a crib, but he's only 11 months old.  Funny, you seem way too old and far too large to be sleeping in a crib.  To each their own I guess." I smirk teasingly, and he repays me with childish, almost apologetic smile.  Yep, that got me thinking about gangs.  More specifically, about how gangs give kids what they wanted all along; a feeling of belonging.  A clear identity.  Acceptance.  I definitely wanted my kids to get as much of that from ME as possible!  I wasn't worried so much that  they'd run off and join the Crypts or the Bloods so much as I knew that when they were teens they'd start searching.  I wanted to give them a solid pad from which to launch themselves, and a compass, for the search.  It is so hard to navigate the hazards of our teenage years.  Who hasn't floundered a bit.  Those that flounder least have a decent idea of who they are when they enter into that period of life.  I wanted to give them that advantage.  Family identity, and knowing they will also be accepted for who they are are key.

Who needs a water park!

 My sons are stark contrasts to one another.  One is tall and svelte, the other also tall, but brutish in stature.  One is blonde, one Brunette.  One is a dyslexic math whiz, the other a poet that still adds on his fingers.  My Brunette sensitive to the needs of others and almost unaware of his own needs.  My Blonde, well he can tell you exactly how he feels at any given second, but has absolutely no awareness of the feelings or boundaries of others.  Yep, polar opposites.  Family is where they are loved for who they are, and where they find common ground.  I am thankful for the wise priest that told my husband I, "The greatest injustice is treat unequals equally."  In discipline, and communication they are treated according to their needs.  There is no box to fit into at our house, and yet those EVENTS are reoccurring.  I suppose that is how we see family.  

Yep, I started thinking about how I wanted to "define" our family.  Were we the crunchy kind of family?  Were we punk rock?  Were we sporty?  Where did we fit in?  We sorta fit all of those descriptions and more.  This was an evolution, correction.  This IS an evolution.  Honestly, the more our entire family grows in Christ the closer we get to a place were I worry less about manufacturing this, because it happens on it's own.  No, we haven't always exposed our kids to things that I'm proud of, and we have made some mistakes.  Heck, Cooper has almost grown up WITH us.  Everyone makes mistakes, no parent is perfect.  Besides, I don't think a label, like those above, is something I have ever been willing to live "up" too.  How confining.  No, what I think has mattered most is that we spend LOTS of time as a family, PERIOD.  What also matters is that we NEVER, and will never, impose a specific identity on our kids (i.e. "if you don't love football you don't belong" type of identity).  That's what their search is for.  Our job is to give them a compass and a place to feel safe.  That is done based on how we live, what and who we value.  We clearly, unemotionally, communicated to them what we expect of them, what we deem good choices/habits/behaviors, and who are good examples to follow.  We teach them how to chose friends that will benefit them.  We communicate this by LIVING IT.  Funny, the things I couldn't do for myself before them, I can do for myself now, because I'm doing it for them.

We have thrown aside the values of "the world"; status, possessions, and basically the lifestyle most of their peers are familiar with.  I'll be as specific as one paragraph allows.  Only one of us has worked full-time since our first child was born.  My next statement is offensive, it comes from experience this "having it all" idea is a myth.  When both parents work full time the kids suffer, except in very few circumstances where family support is incredibly great and even then I'd debate it.  There is no replacement for Mom or Dad.  I haven't yet met a kid that'd say, "I'd rather have name brand clothes than time with mom and dad".  Or, "I'd rather go to Disney land once a year than have time with my family every day".  Ask them yourself.  

We live on a Cash only basis with the exception of our mortgage (this allowed us the freedom to pick a house in a neighborhood were our kids are safe and surrounded by like minded families).  We don't take extravagant vacations.  We don't go out to eat.  We don't go to the movies, except on special occasions (and then to the budget theater or matinee).  We don't have Cable TV.  My kids get most of their clothes at Goodwill.  We didn't sign them up for sports until they were 10 and 7, and then only a non-competitive soccer league.  While we don't shelter them from alcohol (My husband and I like a beer or two every once in a while), We DO NOT allow people to drink to intoxication in front of them (this seems like a no-brainer, but it wasn't, which is a long story).  WE DO have family dinners nearly every night.  We do hike and camp near home FREQUENTLY.  We do go to Busch Gardens on our ONE annual free "military appreciation" day (Thank you Busch).  We do have fires and roast marshmallows in our backyard.  We do help people in our neighborhood that need it (see a need, fill a need).  We do have 1 tv (well that's a lie, we actually have 4 at the moment, we are storing 3 of them for friends, and can only watch one since we don't have cable).  We do monitor what we watch and listen to when they are around (also something that has evolved and become more stringent as they've gotten older).  We DO tuck them in every night and recap their day.  We DO work, play, pray, eat, laugh, cry, suffer, rejoice, and live TOGETHER.  Profound if you think about it.  You don't have to agree with our tastes to understand our methods.

We gave them life, but their lives are not ours.  We are their teachers, their mentors, the builders of their foundations.  I love them so much.  I want them to be successful BECAUSE of me, not in spite of me.  We need to be available, physically, emotionally, and cognitively in order ensure that.  It was very hard to be honest with myself about what it would take to make that desire a reality.  It is an everyday struggle to die to my own desires in order to give birth to this ONE true desire to build a solid foundation for my sons.  In essence I do give birth to them everyday, everyday until the day they take flight from me.

Surrendering Stinks Sometimes.

It is funny.  I was perfectly okay with this weekend.  Better than I thought I'd be actually.  The Olympic Trials were a touchstone in my surrendering the life of an elite distance runner to devote myself to motherhood.  Before and during the race I was content to live vicariously through my friends.  When it was over and I looked through the results I broke down, not because my former running/training partners did so well (placing: 2, 9, 13, 26, 33, and 74th) .  Heck no, I am incredibly proud of them!  I got upset for a completely different reason.  Well, sort of.

I have to give a little background.  Christmas of 2008 I secretly looked into the World Class Athlete Program offered by the Army.  I knew I could get paid to train, and get great benefits for the family.  If I went through Basic Training and AIT I would then be allowed to train freely at the location of my choosing.  I thought I met the requirements, which at that time were to have placed in the top 3 at a national competition within the last 2 years. When I inquired I was told I in fact did not qualify because the national competition was not an Olympic Distance (It was a 25k).  Not long after that Casey came to me with his dream of joining the Army, so I didn't pursue it further.  I wasn't going to have both parents gone at basic training and AIT.  That seemed really selfish.   They have since changed the requirements to make them more black and white.  I feel the Marathon standard is still totally within my limits if I were to train again.  Now back to the results.

I saw, in the top 25, not one but two women running for the US Army W.C.A.P.  Neither of them were better runners than myself.  They were granted entrance into the program around the same time I inquired and neither of them were within 3 minutes of any of my PR's at the time.   Because I like to torture myself I researched, and found that neither woman currently on the team made the standard before being admitted.  However, they were career soldiers FIRST, then applied (not comforting to me though due to smugness I often experience on the part of female soldiers).  At this point the faster one has  PR's in the 10k and Half Marathon that are actually a just under a minute slower than mine, but a 15k PR that is faster than mine.  We are comparable runners I suppose.  The second still isn't even close to my PR's.  So then, I wanted to know WHY NOT ME!  I felt myself burn with anger and resentment.  I stiffened involuntarily, feeling as though I'd been cheated out of what rightfully belonged to me.

I silently slumped about the house all morning.  "Annie, is there coffee?" "I dunno.  Do you still have legs?  Go look."  If Casey came downstairs I went upstairs.  If he came up I went down.  We normally talk and drink coffee all morning on Saturday and Sunday.  I wanted to punch him and those two stupid girls right in the face.  I was seriously ready to ramp up my training to show up at the Army 10 miler in a cheesy "Army Wife" T-shirt and kick their asses.  Show them whose boss.  Show them how undeserving they were.  Exactly the attitude I have worked so hard to recover from.

Of course Casey wanted to know what was wrong.  I told him.  Of course his response was insensitive, "I gave it (a promising athletic career) all up too.  I moved on."  In all fairness "giving it up" isn't the same as "losing it".  Power events (high jump) and distance events are very different in this way.  "At any moment honey, I can pick it back up and be back where I was in a year or so.  It isn't the same."  Crying hysterically at this point, which makes him totally uncomfortable because I don't do this often.  He shifts his weight every 2 seconds and keeps his arms locked to his sides in terror that I might try to cling on.  In a Hank Hill to Luanne tone he asks, "Annie, seriously, how many dead ends are you gonna hit before you get God's point?  Have you prayed?"  Okay, so while this is totally correct, it may not have been the best timing ever.  Left hook much?

I didn't hit my husband.  I didn't even yell at him, even though I really wanted to.  I knew he was right.  It wasn't meant to be.  Those women WEREN'T undeserving at all.  I was being a jerk.  I have said several times that Pride and Vanity are huge issues for me, Vengeance too I suppose.  I am doing what I have been called to do.  I don't always like it.  In fact sometimes I down right want to scream at God that he made a mistake, throw myself down arms and legs in every direction, and demand to have my way.  Luckily, within minutes some one or something enlightens me as to my assholish ways and then I find strength to admit that I am wrong.

Enjoyed this day and ran w/o an ego.  The following year I had a huge ego.  

Tonight at Mass, as I prayed, I envisioned myself running a race.  I was near the front of the pack chasing down this woman.  I was filled with the "I'm gonna show you whose boss" feeling.  I looked to the spectators and saw Jesus.  His shoulders slouched, head hanging and shaking in disappointment and sadness.  Then I envisioned myself again running a race.  This time I had no idea where I was in the pack.  I was filled with joy.  I noticed the way the light filtered through the leaves, they way their greens contrasted against a bright blue sky.  I noticed the festive colors of the finish area and Jesus behind the finish line excitedly waving me in.  His arms WIDE open waiting to wrap me up after I finished.  I actually have had both race experiences in real life, minus Jesus being there in person of course.  I realized it's the same Jesus, but different me's.  It is my choice.  I can use my talents or abuse them.  In using them they help others and myself.  "Do nothing out of selfishness or out of vainglory..." Phillipians 2:3  Until I can run with that verse in my heart I will not "train" or compete.  I would just make it all about me, and everyone around me would suffer.  Not to mention the demands of being a military wife with 2 school age children are preventative enough in their own right.  I have made the right choice.  I feel confirmed that I am following God's will for me and my family.  Though I still have days when it is hard to be at peace with it.

Profile of learner, what this means for my kid.

These are Cooper's results for his multiple intelligence test, excuse the formatting, I didn't know how to transfer it properly.  If anyone knows how to do this they can tell me in the comments!  While being "social" isn't important to him, nor is collaborative learning, he did say, "I do wonder, if no one else has to learn this why do I?"  This attitude is why my traditional setting was such a source of friction for us the first time around.  Given the results, I wonder if this attitude wasn't manufactured by traditional school structure (grades, etc.).  That doesn't mean this is a good or bad attitude.  I am just not subscribed to the belief that it's inherent within Cooper, and I wonder what relationship this attitude has with his learning.  He loves to learning when he picks the material, but if anyone else picks the material this attitude of why should I kicks in.  I think, at this point, that the type of homeschool parents my husband and I are fits nicely for Cooper's needs.  We'd pick the objectives, and he'd pick the material.  He wouldn't have the "why should I attitude" because of his ownership of his own learning.  After all, we don't think "why should I" when we, as adults, decide we WANT to learn a new language, or how to knit, or how to garden.  The fact is, that he doesn't need other PEOPLE around him in order to learn (there are folks that do), but in order to motivate him to learn things he has BEEN MANDATED to learn.  No one MADE him read "Universe in a Nutshell", certainly none of the other kids in his class were doing that in their free time.  He did it because he wanted to.  So, in effect the "other kids" serve to make him feel as though he isn't the only one being forced to something he finds pointless, and annoying.  Lovely.  More information is still needed.  

Your top three intelligences: Intelligence Score (5.0 is highest) Description 4.71 Spatial: You remember things visually, including exact sizes and shapes of objects. You like posters, charts, and graphics. You like any kind of visual clues. You enjoy drawing. Effective techniques of enhancing your learning using your spatial intelligence include creating and/or using pictures, maps, diagrams, and graphs as you learn things. Other suggestions: Write a language experience story and then illustrate it. Color code words so each syllable is a different color. Write a word on the blackboard with a wet finger. Visualize the word as it disappears. See if you can spell it afterwards. Take a survey. Put the information in a chart. Write words vertically. Cut out words from a magazine and use them in a letter. Visualize spelling words. Use colorful newspapers like USA Today. Use crossword puzzles. 4.57 Body Movement: You like to move, dance, wiggle, walk, and swim. You are likely good at sports, and you have good fine motor skills. You may enjoy taking things apart and putting them back together. Incorporating body movement into your learning will help you process and retain information better. Here are some ideas. Trace letters and words on each other's back. Use magnetic letters, letter blocks, or letters on index cards to spell words. Take a walk while discussing a story or gathering ideas for a story. Make pipe cleaner letters. Form letters out of bread dough. After you shape your letters, bake them and eat them! Use your whole arm (extend without bending your elbow) to write letters and words in the air. Change the place where you write and use different kinds of tools to write, ie., typewriter, computer, blackboard, or large pieces of paper. Write on a mirror with lipstick or soap. Take a walk and read all the words you find during the walk. Handle a Koosh ball or a worry stone during a study session. Take a break and do a cross-lateral walk. 4.14 Musical: You like the rhythm and sound of language. You like poems, songs, and jingles. You enjoy humming or singing along with music. You probably remember things well when they are associated with music or rhythm. Try to incorporate sounds into your lessons, such as using a familiar tune, song, or rap beat to teach spelling rules, or to remember words in a series for a test. Here are some other ways to use your musical intelligence: Create a poem with an emphasis on certain sounds for pronunciation. Clap out or walk out the sounds of syllables. Read together (choral reading) to work on fluency and intonation. Read a story with great emotion — sad, then happy, then angry. Talk about what changes — is it only tone? Work with words that sound like what they mean (onomatopoeia). For example: sizzle, cuckoo, smash. Read lyrics to music. Use music as background while reviewing and for helping to remember new material. Use rhymes to remember spelling rules, i.e., "I before E except after C." The scores for your other five intelligences: 3.86 3.14 3.14 3 2.86 Just because these five are not in your top three doesn’t mean you’re not strong in them. If your average score for any intelligence is above three, you’re probably using that intelligence quite often to help you learn. Take a look at the Practice section to see how to engage all your intelligences.

Homeschool debate

My husband and I have decided to have several conversations in which we EQUALLY weigh the pros and cons of homeschooling against the pros and cons of public school.  We have several questions we want to discuss.  Each child would require their own unique conversation, and we would take into account that while I am the licensed educator, we would both be active participating FACILITATORS if our children were to be homeschooled.

1.) What do we hope our children will get out of public school. (Why do we send them)
Once this question is answered we will weigh the value of this answer against this question
2.) What do we fear they won't get out of public school, or what do we fear will be negative about the public school experience in the context of their futures.
3.) What do we believe our children would get of homeschooling?
Once this question is answered we'd have to ask
4.) What experiences do we fear our children wouldn't get as homeschoolers, how would the homeschool experience fit into the context of their futures?

This is the nitty gritty part of the conversation.  We'd have to weigh the answers of number 1 against number 2 and then weigh the answer of number 3 against number 4 too see the pay outs.  In the end see which is the most logical.  They both have pros and cons.  Our kids WILL learn in each environment.  It's a matter of seeing which environment will BEST allow them to learn the MOST, with the least amount of negative "side effects"; based on each child's individual needs and learning styles.  We will work hard to keep each other honest and objective by playing devil's advocate.  I'm glad that we've homeschooled them for their religious education, and that I homeschooled them for their regular education (both unschooled and traditional settings).  It will make things easier.

I'll keep everyone updated.  I think this a very valid discussion that more people should have.  It's a part of parenting deliberately.  At this point we know this much.  If we do homeschool we aren't radical unschoolers.  It's not that I completely disagree with this (more here), I just don't think I can undo my "teacher" mindset, and the state of Virginia requires that homeschool students pass their state test based on their state standards.  Not to mention, adults are expected to meet objectives and dead lines.  It is my responsibility to teach my children to do the same.  We'd still be facilitators, but we'd present objectives that are to be met through inquiry based learning.  Defining who you'd be as homeschool parents is definitely the first step.  Read, search, and find your truth.  The next most important thing to know is who your child is.  What is their learning style (free test here take this with your child, you will need to interpret some of the questions for them, be sure to let THEM pick their answers.  Do not manipulate their answers.  It is based on their perceptions and not yours.), and what are their needs?  Not every kid was made for homeschooling, and not every kid is cut out for traditional schooling either (can you say Einstein or Edison).

More for the debate

An old entry, from my other blog.  I don't use it anymore, but some of the entries are quite good so I haven't deleted it.  It discusses boys and public education.  This was written right after Cooper's terrible first grade year, so it may be a bit less objective than my current writings.

http://allthingsboy.blogspot.com/2008/09/new-year-same-old-crap.html

To Homeschool or Not to Homeschool

I am a teacher.  I am an educational advocate.  While I know the system is broken, I still believe in it's ability to work.  Even if it means kicking, and banging on it from time to time.  I have homeschooled my sons once before.  For one semester.  They were in a really horrible school, even though it was a "blue ribbon" school with decent test scores.  Test scores mean nothing by the way.  My youngest son was in first grade, couldn't write his last name, and wasn't learning to read AT ALL.  My oldest son, who suffered a huge academic loss due to poor teaching in first grade, was in the first 3rd grade class in this district to try a rotating schedule.  All current research says that rotating schedules actually impede learning until children reach the age of about 10 or 11 (5th grade), because they aren't yet developmentally prepared to deal with multiple teachers and multiple classroom settings.  I pulled them out because I felt it was a one time emergency type situation.  I had already advocated on their behalf starting with the teachers, and eventually working my way up to the school board.  I presented all of them with research (for my oldest son), and educational law (for my youngest son).  Nothing changed.  I was left with no other option but to use my skills solely for their benefit.

It worked out wonderfully academically speaking.  My oldest son not only regained the lost learning, he went into 4th grade (in a different state) reading 2 grade levels ahead.  My youngest son not only learned to read, he learned to write and did both on grade level when he entered 2nd grade.  By the way, we ended our "school year" in April.  I also found out my youngest son  is dyslexic.  However, (here's the "but") it made me a basket case.  Granted my husband was gone that entire time (Army).  I was totally alone with my kids, 24 hours a day for 6 months.  I didn't get a single minute away from them.  On top of that my oldest had already learned the worst lesson public education teaches (I know because I had to unteach it to my classes every year); if I wait long enough the teacher will give me the answers.  When that didn't happen my son did what my classes usually do, he whined.  Problem is he was my kid.  He didn't stop after a few days because he knew I wasn't going to give.  Heck no.  He kept at it the entire 6 months hoping "mom" would cave in.  He should know me better than that.  I was very happy to see them re-enroll into public school.  We definitely needed a break from each other.

I still function under the belief that if I supplement their weak spots, have a close working relationship with their teachers, use the law to advocate for them, teach them metacognition, and to self-advocate they can succeed in public school; and that the school will be better because it will have a KNOWLEDGEABLE parent making it be accountable. After a few long term substitute teacher jobs I am beginning to doubt that.  I still think a school would benefit from having our family be a part of it, I'm just doubting that our family would see any return benefit.  Even the "intensified" English classes that I taught lack CRUCIAL skills.  While they could rattle off elements of a short story, vocabulary definitions, author biographical information, they couldn't tell me what the main idea was, or the theme.  They couldn't tell me cause and effect or problem - solution.  The few that could tell me the theme couldn't support their answer with details from the text, not a single 8th grade intensified student could do that.  They can't think.  They can't problem solve.  They can't really communicate their ideas.  They function only in the lower 2 levels of Bloom's Taxonomy.  It isn't just here, I've seen it consistently in 5 states now.  This observation is validated with actual statistics.  More than half of college freshman have to take remediated English courses.

How are these kids supposed to manage college or working, let alone living.  A teen that can't manage causal relationships is in a dangerous situation.  Not to mention how are these students supposed to succeed in other subjects like science and social studies?

The U.S. Military provides families with something called "Soar at Home".  It's basically an online school with courses in math and language arts based on state standards.  I gave each of the boys an evaluation this winter break to check on their skills.  My 5th grader got 80% correct in math, and 77% in language arts.  He got 0% right in the sections for "supporting details", "cause and effect", and "problem-solution".  I was nearly enraged.  It isn't his fault, it isn't his teacher's fault.  These things simply aren't being taught.  They take too much time to grade, and are only a small portion of the "TEST".  If a teacher has to chose between a student passing the test and a student learning to think, which will they chose?  Since there are so many kids they teach to the mean, which means assuming kids won't have luxury of learning to think.  My 2nd grader got a 60% in Language Arts (learning disability so not too bad.  I didn't read it to him), and 45% in math.  WHAT! Math is his strong suit.

So now I'm debating my sanity vs their education.  I have the skill set, and the tool kit necessary to ensure they succeed academically.  I can either spend from 4-5pm doing school homework and 5-7 pm catching them up on what they aren't learning at school, or I can homeschool them.  Seems like a no brainer, but it seriously makes me a crazy person when I don't get any alone time.  Not to mention I can't work at all.  Jury is out.  If I did homeschool, I am thinking it would only be during Middle School.  I really think that Middle School is the make or break academic time for kids.

The babies

While the letters have helped me, I anticipate the day that I receive a phone call from him so much that every ring of the phone springs my spine to attention! The letter's have not had the same effect on all of us.

Cooper has broken down, sobbing over the last few days. He see's his dad's face in roadside snow. In the drips on the wind sheild. He is seeing his father's "ghost". Last night he wrote this in his journal.






This morning he could barely finish his work during our school time. I've tried to be an example of how to handle this severing in a healthy manner. "We will not feel sorry for ourselves for any length of time". We have to get up and get on, and deal with our feelings in ways we can control. He was mourning the fact that his dad wasn't here to build him a tunnel in the snow banks, like every other big snow winter.

I bundled Cooper and Willem up in their snow clothes and sent them out to play. Not five minutes later Cooper comes in crying. He is heart sick. Little brother follows close behind, "Coopah, I am biwding a tunnoh foh you. Tum out heoh and hep me wiff it." A few slow gasps and, "Okay, fine."

Those two boys spent 2 hours in the Michigan cold building themselves a tunnel. An homage to a far away father, and to their strength. They were so proud of themselves, pouring prideful "big fish" stories into their hot cocoa afterward. THAT is what their dad's wants of them, pro-activeness. It is what I want of them.

The letter's I have received have validated my belief that the sacrifice my family is making is WORTH IT! Some days feel as though my sorrow will leave in a puddle on the floor, and I regret that I ever agreed to this, that I ever urged him on. His letters make it all worth it, "It's hard telling how much our long arguments and late hour conversations are helping these GI's". We ARE still the team we have always been.

There are reminders of him everywhere. I know that if we are to remain the unit we were when he left the boys and I must continue to honor the value system that has been built by the both of us. This is hard to do if you are feeling sorry for yourself, if you are bemoaning your loss. Most days I feel like sitting on my sad ass doing nothing, but that is not the value system that my husband and I have based our marriage or parenting style on. If we are to remain the family we have always been I HAVE to take care of me first. Get up, get in that workout and show those boys that doing what you feel like doing is usually NOT the route that will lead to fulfillment or happiness. So, as I have for 10 years I will take care of my responsibilities, myself and my sons with an insane work ethic and a tender heart. Even I'd rather eat myself into a coma. I have obviously instilled it in at least one of them already. Thank you Willie, for keeping it real!

"The talk"

(In the car on the way to track)
ME: Boys do you want to have babies when you grow up?
WILLEM: yes because kids wike to pet dogs, and I wike dogs.
COOPER: Not really. I used to but, not anymore.
ME: Why not?
COOPER: Well, right now it's pretty much disgusting to me.
ME: Why?
COOPER: Well, it's the sex. That idea grosses me out.
ME: *giggling*
COOPER: It gives me the eebby jeebies really. I used to want kids until I found how they happen.
ME: *still giggling* Someday you won't feel that way about it, but honestly that's how I felt about when I was your age. And yet I have not one but TWO kids.
COOPER: *smiles smoothly* Yeah, maybe.
(Willem remained oblivious throughout the entire conversation! I think he went to his happy place)

agrarian arts

While my belly grew out of control, stretching so tight it felt it would rip with Willem inside it, I was forced on bed rest. Powerless. I thought Willem would own my body forever. In the delivery room I felt my SI joint spread apart to make room as all 9 lbs of him decended through my small frame. The pain was intense. I wore my regular clothes home and was decieved in thinking this meant my body was the same. It wasn't. It was in pieces, and composed unrecognizably. It was as if I weren't in me anymore, but inside someone else peering out of darkness into two strange peep holes. This new body wouldn't cooperate. It kept breaking down and needing fixed. Injections, threats of surgery, and several layoffs due to hips that didn't want to run. Whose useless body was this they stuck me with? I got fed up with the weakness of this strange container. Finally, I decided this new body needed a mother. It needed someone to care for it, raise it, teach it right and wrong, and ultimately to discipline it with care. So I took time to teach it how I wanted it to behave, to become what I needed it to be. That in itself took me 3 years. Three years of making running a stranger, to get to know this body. My frame allowed me visitation with running, but not full custody. Not until 15 months ago.

15 months ago. That's when I dedicated myself to peeling back the paper on my potential as a runner. 15 months ago I was flaccid and out of shape, the marks of childbirth still lay claim my physique (despite the fact that Willem was 3 at that time). It's only been in the last 3 months that have noticed the land scape of my body change. Lines began to cut their way up my thighs. Rows plowed across my belly as what fat was there melted away. Now the remaining relics of my pregnancy are the stretchmarks that climb up my lower abdomen like ivy on some stately brick wall. Those I want to keep as a trophy of motherhood. Where once I was round I am now shadowed with crevasses. Don't get me wrong. I am no Deena, or Shalane. By comparison I am girlish and undeveloped. My lines are still soft and gentle. However, they exsist and are proof of a planting and a rebirth.

an oldie but it fits here

This is from December of 2006 (When I was still teaching!). What I say seems to fit the theme of this blog so I wanted to post it here!

"Today I recieved a batch of little yellow notes from the psychology class. They explained why the students had picked me to be the reciepient of their admiration. Of course they made me feel good. However, they provided me with a great deal of insight, into myself and the broader world, that I didn't expect.

First of all, they all said the same things. I came to understand that in my students eyes Mrs. Gasway = positivity, energy, enthusiasm, randomness, fun, passion, authenticity, and individuality. These are qualities I aspire to possess so I'm glad that others have percieved me as such. That was a much needed affirmation. It did make me think if Annie, mommy, wife, and all my other selves possess at least a few of these qualities. I don't know. I don't get little yellow notes from my husband, children, or aquantances. I began to wonder what qualities my critics notes would highlight, and what color would they be? Then I thought about all the other teachers notes and how they were impacted by them. Finally, the students, did they take this assignment seriously, or was it just a gotta-get-it-done sorta thing. It doesn't matter, I just always wonder that. I'm a teacher!

What would life be like if we were assessed regularly on the perceptions others had of us. What if we could get in writing some sort of run down of the qualities others see in us. Would we be any more motivated to be better human beings?

To me the notes were an affirmation that I am the person I aspire to be, and I do embody the qualities I strive to represent. It's nice to know I'm actually hitting the target, and not just thinking I am. So many of us think we know who we are until we find out the collective perception of us is much different from our perception of ourself. Really we are only what other's think we are until we prove otherwise, and still we are only what others think we are.

It's easy to say "I don't care what other's think". You should care enough that you can use public perception of who you are to gage if you're hitting your mark. However, you shouldn't let what other's think persuade you to be someone you dont WANT to be.

Besides, most of the time when people say, "I don't care what other people think of me." What they should be saying is, "I don't care if other people like me." Because, unless you're selling something, you shouldn't care if people like you or not. Little yellow notes aren't really momento's of approval. They're insight into the collective perception of you.

unhinged

quotes,
"Mommy no grown ups are at the playground. No one would see you playing with us so you could act like a kid. You know you have a kid inside you don't you."
"mine eyes are melting"
"It's wake up time. Make me some lunch"
"Cooper are you hearing voices again?"
"What's your super power?"
"Don't go in there! The One tooth monkey will get you!"
"mommy you look like a boy when you are running"
"I'm shaking my bottom at you!"
"Look at me I'm yours old granny!" (pants up to his nipples)
"jellycreamers!"
"holy chicago" "holy mayonnaise"
Of course there's spontaneous accapella renditions of "409" and "Day Oh"
"brother love"
"kuckoburra code"
"Sorry boys, I can't hear you. The music in mommyland is awfully loud!"

Once upon a supermarket fit
"Little boy you look upset. Do you want me to help you find your mommy?" You are my mommy. "I'm sorry but I've never seen you before today." YOUS ARES MY MOMMY! "Nope I'm sorry. My little boy never yells at me." (tiny laughter) Mommy it's me bwennan Wiw wam gwasway" You look a lot like my son. Oh how I miss him. He was eatten by a one tooth monkey you know!" Siwwy no I wasn't I'm wight heow. (In the dramatic fashion of a silent movie damsel) "Oh it couldn't be! Willem is that really you! Oh how I've missed you so!" (Big hug)

Corney ramblings

Well no major meltdowns today. I felt as normal as one who is amputated from "normality" can. I didn't get to run which made me feel like shit. My calf still hurts but I know it will get better soon and I'll be back to ass kicking as normal.

The boys were cute today, for a while. They cancelled school at noon so I had them both all day. We watched movies together, did an art project involving planes and rockets, baked cookies, built a space station and a large Thomas rail line. They ate pigs-in-a-blanket and tomato soup for dinner. WE finished it off with two bedtime stories. Sounds like June Cleaver doesn't it? Don't be fooled. Mrs cleaver wished on the first star to be Ani Difranco, or Anais Nin, or Evita, or any Childless independent woman she could think of.

The boys couldn't have known that inside I was screaming to get the hell out of the house by myself. My ability to maintain a calm and patient outter shell while my interior wriggled restlessly to be independent was unnerving. Will kissed me spontaneously on the arm as I reached to open the oven to pull the cookies out. The string attached to that kiss pulled me back to earth.

The string attached to that kiss didn't remedy the fact that I've lost my independence. It meant something. I'm not sure what, but if I don't screw up to badly it'll be something good. I know that because when they were both asking me questions simultaneously, and instead of getting an answer, I asked for 5 minutes alone they both obliged without a complaint. Yes, I had Cooper when I was young. Yes, I wasn't ready. Yes, sometimes I still feel like I'm not ready. The boys show me how to truly love someone else if I'm willing to learn. As I follow their example I become ready.

No parent is perfect (except me! hahahahah), but parents who listen and learn are at least trying. I'm convinced there's a kiddie point system and that they give bonus points for trying even if you screw up. Attention, concern, interest, compassion, space when I need it, are all things that my kids give me. These are things they need me to return in favor. On days when I need these from myself they let me be selfish without holding it against me. I hope I can remember that when they are teenagers! For now Don't be fooled by the apron... it doesn't signify quite obedient servitude, I'm not wearing a thing underneath and I'm terrible at taking orders!