This is apparently the kind of curriculum that will win LA approval.
In which case, my daughter's current diet of eating, sleeping and breathing her new Pokemon obsession should fit the bill as follows;
Broad - her obsession means she is engaged in using all the media forms Pokemon is marketed in; the card game, other board games, books, electronic media (games console and computer), the cartoon series and films.
Balanced - she spends about equal amounts of time on each (given the opportunity I am sure the cartoon watching would take up a lot more of her time, but due to the large number of episodes and the excruciating cost of the box sets, she is having to download them from the internet, from a site that times out after 70 mins for an hour unless you provide them with a subscription fee. We view this as No Bad Thing!)
Relevant - she is at the right level of understanding and maturity to really get into this phenomenon with whole-hearted enthusiasm.
Differentiated - she chose this 'field of study' herself after a friend asked her if she liked it. She started at the 'basic' level (Indigo League!) and has progressed at her own rate in each area of media as she has become more familiar and gained greater understanding of the subject.
I can see an LA official looking at this and assuming facetiousness on my part.
However. I am perfectly serious. A 10 year old mass-marketing campaign targeted with calculating accuracy at children designed solely to make as much cash from the sale of a game as possible really is currently forming the base of her education.
The card game is introducing her to counting in 10's, rapid subtraction and addition in her head, tactics and forward planning, accurate observation and improvement of working memory.
Watching her calculate the relationship between remaining hit points and damage taken, working out the best cards to play in what order to give herself the upper hand, having it pointed out to me forcefully that I can't do something because I have misread the number of energy cards I needed while her eagle eyes have noted the number of tiny symbols giving the real requirement from across the table and listening to her reel off the names of all the cards in her deck along with their strengths and weaknesses has been a revelation. As has learning that she is miles better at this game than me despite having 30 years more life experience than her plus previous exposure to this type of game!
The cartoon is introducing her to the idea that names are important - a hard concept for my highly visual, very non-aural child who assumes a discription like 'that girl there' works well as a discription of another child she has known for over 2 years. Having to differentiate between (literally!) hundreds of pokemon, many of whom are very similar and evolve into other, even more similar, creatures, means names are suddenly on the Radar for her. It is also introducing her to numbers over 20 (there are about 12 series, none with less than 30 episodes, many with far more.) If she wants to know where she has got to in a series before leaving it for the night, she has to recall the episode number she will need in the morning. I haven't watched all the episodes (I'm not an obsessed 5 year old!) but the ones I have seen have nice plots for a child's cartoon. She watched the sad/happy episode 'Bye bye Butterfree' about 5 times and frequently gives me plot rundowns of her favourites (comprehesion!). It is also bringing the concept of 'sharing' into sharp focus - this is what she needs to do with the computer, and it is proving a hard lesson for her!
The game console she figured out how to use fairly well through trial and error - she can'r read well enough to understand the written instructions. She sometimes gets me to use it for her, giving me detailled instructions on which Pokemon I need to find for her. I was impressed with how quickly she mastered what she needed to do without the instructions and her instructions to me show a deep understanding of Pokemon habitat, habits and skills. And mine!
It is also increasing her interest in learning to read - she knows it would be easier to play if she could read the on-screen instructions. Bringing me nicely onto the books, which are favoured bedtime reading fostering nicely a love of the written word and a desire to read the things herself instead of having to rely on the whim of a parent.
The whole phenomenon has also produced future career ambitions in her. Admittedly this consists of wanting to go off and become a Pokemon trainer when she is 10, but it is the first interest in what she will do when she is older I have ever heard her show.
oginary play, adding to the range and richness of characters and senarios at her disposal, it increases her social standing - a girl who knows her Pokemon has a lot of kudos with a sector of the juvenile population and provides common ground for starting up conversation - and it acts as muse for some of her artwork. It has provided her with a role-model (Ash) who she wishes to emulate and has increased her interest in physical pursuits (after all, you never know where you might find a new pokemon, so you need to be able to climb mountains, go caving, swim etc. etc. to become a true master) It has also provided some common ground and time together with her daddy (who freely admits the way she thinks is usually alien to him making it hard for him to play with her easily) as he has discovered she has as much interest and skill as he does in the card game.
So, yes, we are currently following the "Pokemon curriculm."
Yes, my daughter is learning from it. Learning a LOT from it, in fact.
Yes, it certainly fulfills my idea of a broad, balanced, relevant and differentiated curriculm.
Yes, it is autonomous learning. I don't 'teach' this curriculm, I merely facilitate it (mainly by spending my cash on Pokemon-related goods)
No, it certainly isn't the National Curriculm.
No, I doubt it would make the list of 'specific example' likely to be compiled by those who believe education can be measured and judged on a broad scale for the 'average child' despite knowing all children's needs and capabilities are different and that what comprises 'a good education' is impossible to define given our current level of knowledge of human intelligence and the constantly changing demands of living in a non-stagnant society.
No, I can't see an LA official signing off on a 12-month 'plan of action' entitled 'The Pokemon Curriculm'
No, I wouldn't have submitted this plan anyway. Pokemon came out of the blue in September. Prior to this, we were following 'The Dr. Who Curriculm'.
Do I care? Oh Yes. Because if the government has it's way, my daughter's current learning would not be allowed to exist in the form that it does. She would suffer for it.
I want to live in a society where I can watch the joy and enthusiasm on my child's face as she is allowed to run as far and as deep as she wants to go with a new interest when it emerges, not having to kill it dead with a 'later dear, right now we need to stick to the plan'
I want to live in a society where I can indulge her interests without fear that they will be used to force us into lifestyles we do not want or need by others who judge from the outside without knowing who we are.
I want to live in a society where it is understood that difference is worth nuturing rather than viewed with inate suspicion and that forced conformity breeds ignorance not cohesion.
I want to live in a society where every member my family is valued and accepted as an individual and our freedom and privacy respected, not treated as a member of a group of 'average' persons who do not have the knowledge or understanding to live without the help monitoring and 'support'.
I want to live in a society where government serves it's populace rather than controls it.
I don't want to live in a society whose government is increasingly passing laws far too reminisent of those of Nazi Germany and whose populace is accepting them in the same unthinking manner as they did in that historical state.
I don't want to live in a society whose laws are based on fear, suspicion and hate.
I don't want to live in a society made up only of of mindless follow-the-leader sheep, but one containing free-thinking goats who go their own route. And camels who spit in your face if they don't like you. And cows who think it's funny to stick their hooves in the milk pail. And dogs who show affection without restraint. And foxes who prefer the night to the day. And peacocks who show off. And every other 'type' you can think of. And every one of them is considered an asset.
I want to live in a society where my daughter can follow her 'Pokemon Curriculm' uninterupted.
I want to live in a society without the Badman Review.
Sunday, 18 October 2009
Friday, 11 September 2009
An Open Letter to the DCSF
Dear DCSF,
I am writing this open letter as a last-ditch attempt at true communication with you.
In the past few months, since the Badman Review into Home Education was released, I have had cause to try to contact you. I have carefully composed letters that have voiced my concerns and asked, politely, for explanations. In return, I have received replies that strongly suggest that the letters I have taken time to write, time that I could have been using to interact with my children or clean my house or to get in a few precious moments to myself indulging in my hobbies, have not actually been read by the person who wrote the response.
Why do I suspect this? Well, simply because none of the replies have contained any actual answers to my questions or reassurances over my concerns.
And after comparing received responses with other Home Educators who have also taken the trouble to write to you, it is clear from the incredible comparibility of the wording and the similar reactions those families had that a standardised letter format is being used that does nothing to address any of the specific complaints and worries you are being asked about.
When I am replying to a letter, I always do so with a copy of that letter next to me. I check it carefully to ensure I answer any questions and that I respond to all the important points appropriately. Now, I am an individual with a relatively small number of corespondants, not a large department flooded daily with sacks of letters on the same topic all demanding a reply and required by law to be answered within a set time limit.
However, knowing, as I do, that there are a number of areas where home educators are asking the same questions and repeating the same concerns in a large amount of the communications they are sending to you, I do wonder why, if a standard response letter is deemed necessary, it was not composed to answer and assuage the main points that must have come up over and over again in those communications?
You see, the responses you have sent me so far all say the same things - after giving a quick, oversimplifyed synopsis of the review, including some quotes from it, I am informed that You are 'perfectly satisfied' with the contents and recommendations.
And this completely misses the point.
I know what the review says. I've read it. That's why I'm writing to you, the government department in charge of initiating, publishing and implementing it with my requests for clarification.
I know you are satisfied with it. You would not have accepted the recommendations in full the day after publication if you weren't.
The point is, I am not satisfied.
Your 'satisfaction' is irrelevant. When I write to you expressing concern and asking for specific information and answers, I am expressing my dissatisfaction. I am asking for my concerns to be addressed and my worries considered carefully. I expect you to tell me why you think these things are a good idea and why you think I don't need to be concerned, or what you plan to do to about them. I expect to be treated with respect, with my queries given the attention they are due and responded to promptly, truthfully and in full. I expect my status as a member of the voting public asking serious questions about a government proposal that I feel is likely to have detrimental and long term effects on my family and it's autonomy to be accepted and taken into account. I expect serious, polite questions to be met with serious, polite replies. In short, I expect to be treated as a responsible and intelligent adult.
But.
You treat me like a child.
You make no attempt to answer any of the specific queries I make. I ask things such as, what are the rights of children with regard to refusing to be interviewed alone (a position that may legitimately be taken by any child but which the Badman Review does not mention, leading to the possible interpretation that such a refusal would be overidden, thereby directly contravening those 'children's rights' the review clams it wishes to protect) or when I point out that It is my parental duty in law, not my 'right' to ensure my child receives an education, but that the recommendations in the review are assuming quite the opposite and because of this in order to be implemented they will require an overturning of the laws which place this duty with the parents and the creation of new ones that give it to the state in their stead.
You reply with, "Your concerns have been noted." The official equivilant of, "We'll see."
I express disapointment with the review, pointing out the faults such as the author's lack of apparent understanding of Home Education, particularly the autonomous method, and the unpleasant atmosphere of suspicion and avoidance it is likely to generate in the public towards home educators and the equally harmful humiliation and fear within those families if it makes them subject to intrusive examinations of their home life that the rest of the population are exempt from.
You respond by giving me an overly brief and simplistic condensed version of the review that contains no detail and avoids mentioning many of the main recommendations at all. In the same way that a parent may 'edit' the more scary parts of a bedtime story to avoid giving their child nightmares.
I tell you these recommendations are causing me to fear for the future of my children, that I can see parallells with the recommendations and the historical descriptions from Nazi Germany of practices by the state against those they wished to persecute, that the powers these recommendations will put in the hands of LA's that have often shown themselves to be ignorant of the laws surrounding home education and give false information to families that in many cases implies the LA officers have greater responsibilities and rights than they actually do will be likely to lead to abuse of said powers, that I feel my rights to privacy and my freedom to choose my lifestyle will be curtailed and that I feel deeply insulted that despite the review stating clearly that no evidence was found to support the suggestion that home education is being used as a cover for offences against children, it went ahead and made recommendations that are clearly based on the premise that it is used in that manner anyway.
You tell me "We are satisfied with the review" effectively the equivilant of telling me "Mummy knows best, dear".
I am not a child, to be fobbed off this way without complaint. I want to engage in intelligent communication with those whose decisions will affect the lives of thousands of people, not to be given the brush-off with platitudes and 'many words, no content' replies. You are a government department, supposedly working for the populace with the best interests of children at heart, so why do your responses to me imply strongly that you don't care what I think and have no interest in what I expect the impact of your actions to be on my children? When I read your responses to me, I do not feel like I have recieved them from an intelligent human being who cares about the people they govern, rather I get the strong impression that it has been tossed on a pile of others that a quick skim has shown to contain the words 'Badman review, concerns' for the work experience bod in the office to count then press the button to print off the necessary number of 'Home Education -reply' facimilies.
I do not want to feel this way. I want to feel listened to, my arguments understood, my points accepted. I want to feel that I, the ordinary individual, has an opinion as important to you as those expressed in the carefully worded and legally approved statements released by big organisations and rich stakeholders. I want to know that the needs and wants of the families your policys affect directly will outweigh the vested interests and endorsed proposals that sometimes seek to create change without consideration for those families.
And I will fight to get this. Because if I can't rely on those who are supposed to represent and protect my interests and those of my family to actually pay a little attention to what those interests actually are then officially I have no real voice. And history is littered with the dreadful detritus of societies that denied their citizens a voice. I don't want this country to become one of them.
So please, DCSF, communicate with me. Answer my questions, respond to my concerns. Engage in proper to-and-fro dialogue. Do not ignore me. I am not asking for the Earth, only a little courtesy.
Thank you,
L.B.
A home educating 24/7 parent.
I am writing this open letter as a last-ditch attempt at true communication with you.
In the past few months, since the Badman Review into Home Education was released, I have had cause to try to contact you. I have carefully composed letters that have voiced my concerns and asked, politely, for explanations. In return, I have received replies that strongly suggest that the letters I have taken time to write, time that I could have been using to interact with my children or clean my house or to get in a few precious moments to myself indulging in my hobbies, have not actually been read by the person who wrote the response.
Why do I suspect this? Well, simply because none of the replies have contained any actual answers to my questions or reassurances over my concerns.
And after comparing received responses with other Home Educators who have also taken the trouble to write to you, it is clear from the incredible comparibility of the wording and the similar reactions those families had that a standardised letter format is being used that does nothing to address any of the specific complaints and worries you are being asked about.
When I am replying to a letter, I always do so with a copy of that letter next to me. I check it carefully to ensure I answer any questions and that I respond to all the important points appropriately. Now, I am an individual with a relatively small number of corespondants, not a large department flooded daily with sacks of letters on the same topic all demanding a reply and required by law to be answered within a set time limit.
However, knowing, as I do, that there are a number of areas where home educators are asking the same questions and repeating the same concerns in a large amount of the communications they are sending to you, I do wonder why, if a standard response letter is deemed necessary, it was not composed to answer and assuage the main points that must have come up over and over again in those communications?
You see, the responses you have sent me so far all say the same things - after giving a quick, oversimplifyed synopsis of the review, including some quotes from it, I am informed that You are 'perfectly satisfied' with the contents and recommendations.
And this completely misses the point.
I know what the review says. I've read it. That's why I'm writing to you, the government department in charge of initiating, publishing and implementing it with my requests for clarification.
I know you are satisfied with it. You would not have accepted the recommendations in full the day after publication if you weren't.
The point is, I am not satisfied.
Your 'satisfaction' is irrelevant. When I write to you expressing concern and asking for specific information and answers, I am expressing my dissatisfaction. I am asking for my concerns to be addressed and my worries considered carefully. I expect you to tell me why you think these things are a good idea and why you think I don't need to be concerned, or what you plan to do to about them. I expect to be treated with respect, with my queries given the attention they are due and responded to promptly, truthfully and in full. I expect my status as a member of the voting public asking serious questions about a government proposal that I feel is likely to have detrimental and long term effects on my family and it's autonomy to be accepted and taken into account. I expect serious, polite questions to be met with serious, polite replies. In short, I expect to be treated as a responsible and intelligent adult.
But.
You treat me like a child.
You make no attempt to answer any of the specific queries I make. I ask things such as, what are the rights of children with regard to refusing to be interviewed alone (a position that may legitimately be taken by any child but which the Badman Review does not mention, leading to the possible interpretation that such a refusal would be overidden, thereby directly contravening those 'children's rights' the review clams it wishes to protect) or when I point out that It is my parental duty in law, not my 'right' to ensure my child receives an education, but that the recommendations in the review are assuming quite the opposite and because of this in order to be implemented they will require an overturning of the laws which place this duty with the parents and the creation of new ones that give it to the state in their stead.
You reply with, "Your concerns have been noted." The official equivilant of, "We'll see."
I express disapointment with the review, pointing out the faults such as the author's lack of apparent understanding of Home Education, particularly the autonomous method, and the unpleasant atmosphere of suspicion and avoidance it is likely to generate in the public towards home educators and the equally harmful humiliation and fear within those families if it makes them subject to intrusive examinations of their home life that the rest of the population are exempt from.
You respond by giving me an overly brief and simplistic condensed version of the review that contains no detail and avoids mentioning many of the main recommendations at all. In the same way that a parent may 'edit' the more scary parts of a bedtime story to avoid giving their child nightmares.
I tell you these recommendations are causing me to fear for the future of my children, that I can see parallells with the recommendations and the historical descriptions from Nazi Germany of practices by the state against those they wished to persecute, that the powers these recommendations will put in the hands of LA's that have often shown themselves to be ignorant of the laws surrounding home education and give false information to families that in many cases implies the LA officers have greater responsibilities and rights than they actually do will be likely to lead to abuse of said powers, that I feel my rights to privacy and my freedom to choose my lifestyle will be curtailed and that I feel deeply insulted that despite the review stating clearly that no evidence was found to support the suggestion that home education is being used as a cover for offences against children, it went ahead and made recommendations that are clearly based on the premise that it is used in that manner anyway.
You tell me "We are satisfied with the review" effectively the equivilant of telling me "Mummy knows best, dear".
I am not a child, to be fobbed off this way without complaint. I want to engage in intelligent communication with those whose decisions will affect the lives of thousands of people, not to be given the brush-off with platitudes and 'many words, no content' replies. You are a government department, supposedly working for the populace with the best interests of children at heart, so why do your responses to me imply strongly that you don't care what I think and have no interest in what I expect the impact of your actions to be on my children? When I read your responses to me, I do not feel like I have recieved them from an intelligent human being who cares about the people they govern, rather I get the strong impression that it has been tossed on a pile of others that a quick skim has shown to contain the words 'Badman review, concerns' for the work experience bod in the office to count then press the button to print off the necessary number of 'Home Education -reply' facimilies.
I do not want to feel this way. I want to feel listened to, my arguments understood, my points accepted. I want to feel that I, the ordinary individual, has an opinion as important to you as those expressed in the carefully worded and legally approved statements released by big organisations and rich stakeholders. I want to know that the needs and wants of the families your policys affect directly will outweigh the vested interests and endorsed proposals that sometimes seek to create change without consideration for those families.
And I will fight to get this. Because if I can't rely on those who are supposed to represent and protect my interests and those of my family to actually pay a little attention to what those interests actually are then officially I have no real voice. And history is littered with the dreadful detritus of societies that denied their citizens a voice. I don't want this country to become one of them.
So please, DCSF, communicate with me. Answer my questions, respond to my concerns. Engage in proper to-and-fro dialogue. Do not ignore me. I am not asking for the Earth, only a little courtesy.
Thank you,
L.B.
A home educating 24/7 parent.
Thursday, 10 September 2009
The Badman review Part 1.
I was thinking about one of the recommendations in the Badman review yesterday, as I was painting my fence.
The recommendation on my mind was the one that would require parents to complete a 12 month plan of expected progress to be 'handed in for marking' each year as part of the application-for license-to-home-educate process refered to throughout the report as 'annual registration'.
For me. as for many other Home Educating families, this recommendation has always appeared not just difficult to comply with, but downright impossible without fundamentally altering the way we raise our children. It is high on the list of things that go to show that the compilers of the review have little, if any, true understanding of how learning takes place outside of a scholastic institution. Since the biggest benefit to home education no matter what method is used is that learning follows the child's own pace, with leaps ahead at times when something just 'clicks' while other times require constant backtracking and repeats and 'looking at it in a new way' - often in the same area - and changing and evolving interests can mean learning switches paths dramatically in a very short space of time, filling out a list of 'end of year expectations' is incompatible with this real form of individualised learning.
It is impossible to predict ahead of time what a child will know in 1 months time, let alone 12, even when following a curriculm. Even when the child attends school. And while teachers may be required to 'cover' a subject then mark it down as having been learnt by every child before moving on to the next subject, there are few home educators who don't understand the meaning of the saying 'You may lead a horse to water, but you cannot make him drink' and they raise their children accordingly.
Now, my fence. It is trellis fencing and takes quite a lot of time to paint. If I'm lucky and get a reasonable amount of uninterupted time, I can just about get one panel painted in a day. As I was painting away, listening to my little girl running around playing some made up game of her own, I had no idea I was about to give a science lesson.
I had no indication that my daughter would suddenly come up beside me and ask why painting the trellis takes longer than a normal flat fence panel and why it needed more than one coat. As I explained to her that the trellis has a greater surface area because it has more exposed sides and that the previously untreated wood absorbed the first coat of paint into the nooks and crannies on it's surface so additional coats were required to completely cover the whole surface, I considered the '12 month plan' recommendation.
I thought about how there was no possible way I would have even contemplated the possibility that I would have covered these things with my 5 year old prior to it actually happening.
I thought about how the opportunity to do so only arose because it was a nice day, we had no where else to be and painting the fence in the sunshine looked entirely more enticing than cleaning up the mess created in my living room by the living whirlwinds I call my children.
I thought about how, without my daughter coming to me and actually asking for the information because she was interested, I would not have broached the subject with her, then or at a future date.
I thought about how, even though she was interested and I had explained in a way I thought she could understand, I had no way of knowing if she did understand or if she would remember any of it.
But mostly, I thought about how the 'lesson' was, in fact, just a couple of minutes of casual conversation between a parent and child discussing an ordinary household task that had nothing whatsoever to do with chemistry (the school subject where I was introduced to these concepts by teachers) where either party was at liberty to change the subject or end the conversation any time we liked.
So much of our lives together are like this. I don't 'teach', I parent. My children learn constantly, not from being sat down and told things, but from asking questions, watching those around them, attempting things on their own and 'connecting up the dots' between past experiences and current situations to extrapolate their own theories and answers.
See, that day in the garden my daughter didn't just ask for knowledge, she displayed it too. Her mad game involved a toddlers ride-on car, which she was pretending was a lawn mower. During her game, she explained the bit that dragged on the floor at the back (designed to stop it tipping over) was the bit that cut the grass and the compartment under the seat was the place where the cuttings were collected. This told me she had a fairly good understanding of how a lawn mower worked and what it's parts were for.
Her game also involved attending 'Superschool' and being made to run up and down but not get to do anything interesting because "my teacher doesn't like girls". This told me that, not only had the all-pervasive culture of school affected the lifestyle of one who has never attended one, but that she had also expanded her social understanding to include an accurate idea of how a misogynist might think and behave.
Now, niether of these bits of knowledge were things I would have said she would know or be interested in the day before, any more than the fence painting and in at least one case I could happily have lived without her gaining that particular social insight for many years to come. However, they are important information about the world she lives in, probably more so than any science she will ever learn. Anyone with a lawn needs a lawn mower and a basic understanding of how they work is extremely useful. The majority of people she will meet in life have, will or are attending a school which is seen as their primary source of educational opportunity and very few will pass through their school careers without meeting a teacher who is less than happy to have them in their class. Prejudice against some aspect of a person that is outside their control is, unfortunately, a very real part of society and sooner or later she will undoubtedly come across it personally.
But, somehow, I get the feeling that the recommendation in the Badman review of having a 12 month plan would look kindly on one that included 'science - learn about the terms absorbtion and surface area' but would be less impressed with 'life experience - gain a basic understanding of how our lawn mower works and how blind prejudice can affect peoples actions and lives.'
but ultimately, it doesn't matter what would or wouldn't go down well on a 12 month plan. The problem really is that I, like many other home educators, am not so short-term in my thinking. What does or doesn't happen over the course of a year is insignificant, my main focus, my goal, are the adults my children will eventually become.
From 5 to 16 is a period of 12 years, and that is a long time, time enough to learn everything needed to live an independant adult life in our society without needing said learning to be broken down into chunks of information that follow a steady 'progression'. If my daughter wants to spend this year learning about how machines work, how people think and how the physical properties of different substances dictate the way they interact with one another, I am not about to stop her from doing so because some '12 month plan' says she should be spending her time learning addition and subtraction instead. We can do that some other time during those 12 whole years we have to play with.
So, if this recommendation becaomes a law, unless the powers that be are inclined to accept "They will learn whatever they wish to over the next 12 months just as they did last year." as a formal plan, the likelyhood is that the only possible way I would be able to accurately complete this 'assignment' would be to either use grandiose and incomprehensible sentances designed to impress without actually saying very much, or to simply lie outright.
My daughter is 5. She cannot read much more than her name yet. I have no idea if, in 12 months time, she will be reading chapter books or still be unable to comprehend more than she currently can. What I am sure beyond doubt of however, is that by the time she is 16 she will be able to read anything she wishes to. She has the whole of her childhood to learn.
The recommendation on my mind was the one that would require parents to complete a 12 month plan of expected progress to be 'handed in for marking' each year as part of the application-for license-to-home-educate process refered to throughout the report as 'annual registration'.
For me. as for many other Home Educating families, this recommendation has always appeared not just difficult to comply with, but downright impossible without fundamentally altering the way we raise our children. It is high on the list of things that go to show that the compilers of the review have little, if any, true understanding of how learning takes place outside of a scholastic institution. Since the biggest benefit to home education no matter what method is used is that learning follows the child's own pace, with leaps ahead at times when something just 'clicks' while other times require constant backtracking and repeats and 'looking at it in a new way' - often in the same area - and changing and evolving interests can mean learning switches paths dramatically in a very short space of time, filling out a list of 'end of year expectations' is incompatible with this real form of individualised learning.
It is impossible to predict ahead of time what a child will know in 1 months time, let alone 12, even when following a curriculm. Even when the child attends school. And while teachers may be required to 'cover' a subject then mark it down as having been learnt by every child before moving on to the next subject, there are few home educators who don't understand the meaning of the saying 'You may lead a horse to water, but you cannot make him drink' and they raise their children accordingly.
Now, my fence. It is trellis fencing and takes quite a lot of time to paint. If I'm lucky and get a reasonable amount of uninterupted time, I can just about get one panel painted in a day. As I was painting away, listening to my little girl running around playing some made up game of her own, I had no idea I was about to give a science lesson.
I had no indication that my daughter would suddenly come up beside me and ask why painting the trellis takes longer than a normal flat fence panel and why it needed more than one coat. As I explained to her that the trellis has a greater surface area because it has more exposed sides and that the previously untreated wood absorbed the first coat of paint into the nooks and crannies on it's surface so additional coats were required to completely cover the whole surface, I considered the '12 month plan' recommendation.
I thought about how there was no possible way I would have even contemplated the possibility that I would have covered these things with my 5 year old prior to it actually happening.
I thought about how the opportunity to do so only arose because it was a nice day, we had no where else to be and painting the fence in the sunshine looked entirely more enticing than cleaning up the mess created in my living room by the living whirlwinds I call my children.
I thought about how, without my daughter coming to me and actually asking for the information because she was interested, I would not have broached the subject with her, then or at a future date.
I thought about how, even though she was interested and I had explained in a way I thought she could understand, I had no way of knowing if she did understand or if she would remember any of it.
But mostly, I thought about how the 'lesson' was, in fact, just a couple of minutes of casual conversation between a parent and child discussing an ordinary household task that had nothing whatsoever to do with chemistry (the school subject where I was introduced to these concepts by teachers) where either party was at liberty to change the subject or end the conversation any time we liked.
So much of our lives together are like this. I don't 'teach', I parent. My children learn constantly, not from being sat down and told things, but from asking questions, watching those around them, attempting things on their own and 'connecting up the dots' between past experiences and current situations to extrapolate their own theories and answers.
See, that day in the garden my daughter didn't just ask for knowledge, she displayed it too. Her mad game involved a toddlers ride-on car, which she was pretending was a lawn mower. During her game, she explained the bit that dragged on the floor at the back (designed to stop it tipping over) was the bit that cut the grass and the compartment under the seat was the place where the cuttings were collected. This told me she had a fairly good understanding of how a lawn mower worked and what it's parts were for.
Her game also involved attending 'Superschool' and being made to run up and down but not get to do anything interesting because "my teacher doesn't like girls". This told me that, not only had the all-pervasive culture of school affected the lifestyle of one who has never attended one, but that she had also expanded her social understanding to include an accurate idea of how a misogynist might think and behave.
Now, niether of these bits of knowledge were things I would have said she would know or be interested in the day before, any more than the fence painting and in at least one case I could happily have lived without her gaining that particular social insight for many years to come. However, they are important information about the world she lives in, probably more so than any science she will ever learn. Anyone with a lawn needs a lawn mower and a basic understanding of how they work is extremely useful. The majority of people she will meet in life have, will or are attending a school which is seen as their primary source of educational opportunity and very few will pass through their school careers without meeting a teacher who is less than happy to have them in their class. Prejudice against some aspect of a person that is outside their control is, unfortunately, a very real part of society and sooner or later she will undoubtedly come across it personally.
But, somehow, I get the feeling that the recommendation in the Badman review of having a 12 month plan would look kindly on one that included 'science - learn about the terms absorbtion and surface area' but would be less impressed with 'life experience - gain a basic understanding of how our lawn mower works and how blind prejudice can affect peoples actions and lives.'
but ultimately, it doesn't matter what would or wouldn't go down well on a 12 month plan. The problem really is that I, like many other home educators, am not so short-term in my thinking. What does or doesn't happen over the course of a year is insignificant, my main focus, my goal, are the adults my children will eventually become.
From 5 to 16 is a period of 12 years, and that is a long time, time enough to learn everything needed to live an independant adult life in our society without needing said learning to be broken down into chunks of information that follow a steady 'progression'. If my daughter wants to spend this year learning about how machines work, how people think and how the physical properties of different substances dictate the way they interact with one another, I am not about to stop her from doing so because some '12 month plan' says she should be spending her time learning addition and subtraction instead. We can do that some other time during those 12 whole years we have to play with.
So, if this recommendation becaomes a law, unless the powers that be are inclined to accept "They will learn whatever they wish to over the next 12 months just as they did last year." as a formal plan, the likelyhood is that the only possible way I would be able to accurately complete this 'assignment' would be to either use grandiose and incomprehensible sentances designed to impress without actually saying very much, or to simply lie outright.
My daughter is 5. She cannot read much more than her name yet. I have no idea if, in 12 months time, she will be reading chapter books or still be unable to comprehend more than she currently can. What I am sure beyond doubt of however, is that by the time she is 16 she will be able to read anything she wishes to. She has the whole of her childhood to learn.
Tuesday, 8 September 2009
Why my children are home educated. (Part 1.)
A friend once asked me if I was 'Unconventional'. My initial response was 'No'. After all, I have a mortgage and an overdraft,I live in a terraced house in a suburb of a reasonably large town, I shop for groceries at the supermarket, before I had children I worked 9-5 (well, ok, eventually I worked 10 -6 thanks to horrendous rush hour train fares and a sympathetic boss) in a job that I had attained with qualifications worked for at various educational establishments etc, etc. Not much different about me really.
But, then I thought a little more, and once I scratched the surface, I found myself agreeing with her assessment. There are aspects of my life that are very conventional, but there are many where I am not at all one to follow the herd.
I realised as I thought about this that 'conventional' and 'unconventional' are mindsets, different ways of thinking with different views on the world. I often do not realise that something is out of the ordinary until it is pointed out by someone else. Simple things, like my choice of a very, very bright yellow for my kitchen walls, can be 'unconventional' because they don't follow the current fashion or are not seen very often, never mind that my reasons (yellow goes well with the red floor tiles, the strong colour helps an otherwise very dark room appear more cheerful and I have a personal liking of bright colours) are perfectly rational and practical, suited to the unique situation.
Now, I quite like the idea of being unconventional. I like the idea that I am capable of original thought, that I feel can do things my own way without being restricted or restrained by the opinions of others, that I can stand my ground and carry on the way I think I should in the face of opposition, that I am a unique individual whose unique interests, thoughts and ideas are a part of the sheer variety that makes this life so well worth living. I don't mind following conventional routes when they make sense to me but I don't want to be forced to follow them when I think another way would be better.
By far and away the most 'unconventional' thing I have done is to home educate my children. Even within the home education community, a minority in itself, I am not in the majority because I had decided this was going to be the course I planned to take long before I ever had any actual children to educate.
I was a teenager when I first came across the concept. I don't recall exactly when or where I first learned of it, but I do know that by the time I was 15, and watching a TV documentary on the subject, I was well aware of it as an option and found the programme more interesting for it's highlighting of the different methods the families employed rather than for the information on the legal position, socialisation, future prospects etc. I do know that to my 15 year old self, home education seemed by far and away the sanest and most caring way of educating a child and I had resolved, long before my own (school) education ended, that it was the course I would take with my children, if I had any, should it be at all possible.
Fast forward 20 years. I have 2 young children, one of compulsory education age. I have a husband who was relatively easily convinced of the benefits of Home Education within months of our first child's birth. We have a house we can afford on a single salary (so far). And I have an unpaid, full-time day-and-night job that leaves me with little time to call my own but which gives me more satisfaction than my 10-6 job ever did. My 'unconventional' teenage desire has turned into a very practical adult decision.
I parent my children 24 hours a day, 7 days a week and I will continue to do so for the forseeable future. I am a Home Educator.
But, then I thought a little more, and once I scratched the surface, I found myself agreeing with her assessment. There are aspects of my life that are very conventional, but there are many where I am not at all one to follow the herd.
I realised as I thought about this that 'conventional' and 'unconventional' are mindsets, different ways of thinking with different views on the world. I often do not realise that something is out of the ordinary until it is pointed out by someone else. Simple things, like my choice of a very, very bright yellow for my kitchen walls, can be 'unconventional' because they don't follow the current fashion or are not seen very often, never mind that my reasons (yellow goes well with the red floor tiles, the strong colour helps an otherwise very dark room appear more cheerful and I have a personal liking of bright colours) are perfectly rational and practical, suited to the unique situation.
Now, I quite like the idea of being unconventional. I like the idea that I am capable of original thought, that I feel can do things my own way without being restricted or restrained by the opinions of others, that I can stand my ground and carry on the way I think I should in the face of opposition, that I am a unique individual whose unique interests, thoughts and ideas are a part of the sheer variety that makes this life so well worth living. I don't mind following conventional routes when they make sense to me but I don't want to be forced to follow them when I think another way would be better.
By far and away the most 'unconventional' thing I have done is to home educate my children. Even within the home education community, a minority in itself, I am not in the majority because I had decided this was going to be the course I planned to take long before I ever had any actual children to educate.
I was a teenager when I first came across the concept. I don't recall exactly when or where I first learned of it, but I do know that by the time I was 15, and watching a TV documentary on the subject, I was well aware of it as an option and found the programme more interesting for it's highlighting of the different methods the families employed rather than for the information on the legal position, socialisation, future prospects etc. I do know that to my 15 year old self, home education seemed by far and away the sanest and most caring way of educating a child and I had resolved, long before my own (school) education ended, that it was the course I would take with my children, if I had any, should it be at all possible.
Fast forward 20 years. I have 2 young children, one of compulsory education age. I have a husband who was relatively easily convinced of the benefits of Home Education within months of our first child's birth. We have a house we can afford on a single salary (so far). And I have an unpaid, full-time day-and-night job that leaves me with little time to call my own but which gives me more satisfaction than my 10-6 job ever did. My 'unconventional' teenage desire has turned into a very practical adult decision.
I parent my children 24 hours a day, 7 days a week and I will continue to do so for the forseeable future. I am a Home Educator.
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