Musings

For Jonathan's birthday, he asked to go to a local Japanese steak house where they cook the food right in front of you and throw food in your mouth and try not to set you on fire. So we went, and something interesting happened while we were there. There were eight of us seated around the table, my family of five and two couples flanking us. The couple sitting beside Dan chatted with him, especially the woman side of the couple, while the couple on my side, who were younger, were friendly, but not talkative.

Jonathan was his usual talkative self, telling jokes (Two atoms were walking down the street. One atom said to the other, "I think I've lost an electron." The other asked, "Are you sure?" The first atom repsonded, "I'm positive." Ba-dump-bum.), asking questions, giving us dissertations on string theory--the usual. Benjamen was a little shy somehow and kept his jacket on, hood up--but he talked to me excitedly and was happy to be there, anticipating the show. He also surprised me by ordering scallops. And he loved them. Nicholas was seated near Dan and the talkative couple and he was his usual five year old self, laughing and talking and playing.

Toward the end of the meal, the talkative lady leaned toward Dan and said, "I'm assuming your boys are homeschooled." Dan was taken aback and I was a little surprised, too. He asked how she knew, and she answered, "Well, your boys are so well behaved," (ha!), "and they all seem so bright and interested and interesting. I heard your oldest talking about electricity and religion and shellfish, and I saw how you all interact, and it's just not the way regular children behave, in my experience." I wanted to ask her if she was a teacher, but I didn't.

That was a week ago, and I'm still not sure what I think of the whole thing.

It's not the first time people have guessed that we were a homeschooling family, but it was the most out-of-the-blue instance, I think. There were really no overt clues that would mark us as homeschoolers. It wasn't a weekday morning, when they should have been in school. We weren't in a library looking up Greek Myths or classical children's literature. We weren't hanging out at the park with a bunch of hippy, funky homeschooling friends. But still she assumed we were homeschoolers. We exude homeschooliness, now, I guess. Whatever that is.

Another thing that bothered me (bothered isn't the right word, but neither is disturbed or unsettled) was that when she was talking about Jonathan, and the way he talks, the things he talks about, the way he interacts with us, she talked about him as if he wasn't there. This happens alot. People don't take kids seriously. She would never have talked about me in the third person, she would have addressed me directly. And she would never have made any comments about my intelligence or lack therof, but it's socially acceptable to make those kinds of comments about a child even in the child's presence.

Jonathan always, always responds to those kinds of comments by dumbing himself down. He'll start randomly yelling out things like, "Pie!" or "Muffins!" or some other nonsense. We're used to it, but it's always still disconcerting. It seems obvious to me that he resents being discussed in that way, and that he finds it insulting. I talked to him about it a few days afterward and asked him if he knew why he did that (the shouting). He said that she was talking about how smart he is and he just wanted her to know that he's also "completely random." Maybe that's all it was, but after seeing the same response ever since he was two years old, I kind of doubt that that's all there is to it. It's a defense mechanism, in my humble mom opinion.

I've let some things go with him this year. I realized that the experiments we were doing were actually boring him. He would go through the motions, and he didn't object or say anything, really (which was my first clue). He just wasn't into it, and so I let it go. I realized that I don't need to set up science learning opportunities for a kid who lies awake at night reading science encyclopedias and has an abiding crush on string theory.

Ditto for grammar, reading, spelling, and all things language. He's very advanced, verbally. There, I said it. Out loud. He corrects my grammar (and I'm no slouch). He reads The Deluxe Transitive Vampire for fun (OK, I do, too). He out-spells me and I often find myself asking him how to spell words that are stumping me. He's a voracious reader. He doesn't need artificially constructed learning opportunities.

Benjamen is a different kid. Or else I haven't learned my lesson with him, yet. We do math and spelling every day. We read out loud and study animals, a subject about which he is still very passionate. We talk, talk, talk. He has subscriptions to magazines (all of the boys do), and we read them together, completing activities. We play card games and board games. We watch movies together.

And Nicholas. We do math meetings a couple times a week. He brings me a huge Learn-How-To-Read type of book and we do a lesson or two. He writes constantly. "Mom, how do you spell..." is his constant refrain. He sends me messages via fridge magnets. This fall he's be a first grader, whatever that means, and he'll be on the grid with the local board of education. Sometimes I wish that we had gone underground when we moved out here. As easy as the hoops are to jump through, I don't like having School in my head, even if it is way in the back. It has an effect on me, psychologically, and that extends to the boys on some level, I know it.

Next year we begin the four year history cycle all over again. This year (modern history) Jonathan memorized the Gettysburg Address, the whole thing, and he speaks it with such inflection, and such understanding. When we first encountered it, we went over all of the troublesome words and phrases and we discussed the historical context. This is so much more than was done for me in school. To me, the Gettysburg Address (and the Preamble to the Constitution, and every other thing I was forced to memorize) was just a jumble of words. Sometimes I had a vague understanding, but no one, of course, ever sat down with me one-on-one and made sure that I understood the words and the broader meaning. And of course, I don't force the boys to memorize (Benjamen was memorizing the Gettysburg Address in parts, just from hearing Jonathan recite them, and even Nicholas would chime in when Jonathan stumbled, which surprised me). I ask them if they want to. I tell them school kids do it. I tell them I did it when I was younger. We discuss whether it's important, or fun, or interesting, and they decide whether they want to do it. Jonathan and Benjamen have also embarked on memorizing the sequence of US presidents. We're up to James A. Garfield (# 20).

So next year, like I said, we start over again with ancient history. It will be Nicholas' first formal year of history study, if he wants to join in (and judging by his participation this year, he definitely will) and I like that we're back at the beginning for him. We'll all be able to do history together, and that's new. Last year I did the Renaissance with Jonathan and and ancient history with Benjamen and it was a bit of a pain. This year I just let Benjamen follow along with Jonathan's studies of Modern history. Next year, begin anew and I'll be able to let them all engage with the material on their own levels. We'll read aloud and Nicholas can do coloring pages while we read or afterward. Benjamen and I can read myths and story books from the time period, and Jonathan, who already has a good grasp on the basics (and more, probably) can delve deeper.

It's going to be a fun year, I can already tell.