Our life is flowing along and right now we seem to have a hit sweet balance between schooling and unschooling. I still maintain that we could never be unschoolers because I do not believe that humans are fully natural beings. We are shaped by our surroundings, and thus to suggest that we have a "natural" way of learning just doesn't work for me. But I do believe that if we surround our children with enriching things to read and do, they will want to learn and turn to us for guidance on how to learn better. But anyway that is likely a post for later when I feel like dealing with all the hate.
Lately the beasties have been thrown into cat obsession. Even Camille who is normally firmly in the doggie camp, can't stop thinking about cats. Why? Erin Hunter's (who is really THREE people my beasties discovered all on their own) Warrior series has crept into our household. The kids read the books, the comics, the "field" guides. My house is littered with thousands of pictures of Warrior cats battling it out or nursing kits (I love these pictures). They were just as thrilled with the complete set of the first books my dad got them for Xmas as the video games, etc. They sit at the dinner table and regale us with stories of the cats. They set up their plastic cat toys and act out warrior games.
But there were other things that were happening that I missed because I got wrapped up in what they shouldn't be doing. Let me explain. My kids love this online gaming platform called Roblox. And when I say love it's more like obsession. They'd play all day long if I let them. For the most part, I regarded Roblox as a waste of time. It was fun,and the kids had a good time playing and interacting with others. It did provide us with a good object lesson in Internet security but that was the limit I saw to its usefulness.
As time went on, I began to notice that there were things they were learning. They were learning to get along with people or not. They found spaces in which to share their interests because they didn't have the spaces in front of them. Two events hammered in how much they were acquiring by playing this seemingly silly game.
First, the girls discovered that someone had made animation of the first Warrior book on YouTube. They were so fired up. Initially they wanted to learn animation (and they still do) but they realized it was going to take some time to do this. They wanted to make a film of book 2 now. This is when they hit on the idea of making it on Roblox. They would make a call to other players, write a script and then "role play" the book. They were very excited and this lead to a flurry of script writing with lots of help from us. The thing is that we did not insert ourselves into this project. They came to us. How did they make a script that wasn't long but included the whole book? Did this sound realistic? What characters should be included? They were learning a ton of stuff that didn't involve a lesson but did involve learning opportuntities and things they had been doing with me.
Second, they discovered politics. They happened to be playing the day that many sites were protesting SOPA. Roblox had a little statement and many of the other players had their characters wearing antiSOPA shirts. Of course Umberto wanted to know right off what was going on. We had a great conversation about what was at stake for all sides, and he was quite outraged. He then went onto have several conversations with other players about why SOPA would be bad. And he was aware enough to keep an eye out for news and told us when Congress put a stay on the bill.
My beasties periodically remind me that learning can happen everywhere. Even when we're not expecting it. It's a good lesson to keep in mind not just as I home school but in my own life. I have more to post on this later but that feeling of being lost has returned, and I realized that without the direction of school and deadlines I have a hard time learning. My children do not have this and I realize they have been given a lovely gift. It's a gift I hope I can pass onto myself.
Wednesday, January 25, 2012
Sunday, January 22, 2012
A Day in the Life 1/21/2011
A Day in the Life 1/21/2011, a set on Flickr.
This is the second day in the life of the 7 week series. Saturday.
Saturday, January 14, 2012
Wednesday, November 30, 2011
What'cha Doing?
A couple of weeks ago a friend wrote a blog post has stayed with me. It was one of those post that kind made me reevaluate what was going on with the beastie's home school day. She was describing how being an unschooler places some responsibility on the parent to model what one does in a day. In other words, unschooling ought to make a person look closely at how they spend their whole day. And this really hit a nerve because frankly I am a lazy type unless I have a lot on my plate. Being in graduate school kept me always moving. I was constantly reading, writing, discussing, etc. It was pleasurable and I loved it but what little down time I had was valued and used wisely. This schedule also kept me on the straight and narrow with the beasties as well.We didn't have time to catch up or to put off a project until later.
Now that I am essentially freed of these time constraints. I do nothing. Seriously. I spent a lot of time on Facebook playing really inane games. My friend's post made me realize that I am squandering this precious time that has been given to me, and that the beasties are watching me squander this opportunity. In fact, the beasties are COPYING ME by becoming hideously addicted to computer games and pushing other pursuits from their minds. This is not how I want to live my life. There are so many things I want to learn and to do.
So I made a list:
learn Spanish
brush up so I can pass a French reading test
write a kick ass paper on the comic book "Priest" with lots of great monster theory
revise my thesis into a couple of articles
read THE WHOLE OUTLANDER series. Oh yeah!
knit a sweater
This is really just a bit of what I want to do but I need to do it. I need to start using my time in a wise way so that I can do the things that really give me pleasure instead of the things I am addicted to. And I need to do this not just for me but for the beasties.
Now that I am essentially freed of these time constraints. I do nothing. Seriously. I spent a lot of time on Facebook playing really inane games. My friend's post made me realize that I am squandering this precious time that has been given to me, and that the beasties are watching me squander this opportunity. In fact, the beasties are COPYING ME by becoming hideously addicted to computer games and pushing other pursuits from their minds. This is not how I want to live my life. There are so many things I want to learn and to do.
So I made a list:
learn Spanish
brush up so I can pass a French reading test
write a kick ass paper on the comic book "Priest" with lots of great monster theory
revise my thesis into a couple of articles
read THE WHOLE OUTLANDER series. Oh yeah!
knit a sweater
This is really just a bit of what I want to do but I need to do it. I need to start using my time in a wise way so that I can do the things that really give me pleasure instead of the things I am addicted to. And I need to do this not just for me but for the beasties.
Feeding Christ
The beasties have been in religious education class at the Catholic Center for a couple of months now. H and I were both a bit apprehensive as we knew some of our theological perspectives might clash with what the kids learn. Thus we grilled them relentlessly after each class, and in true beastie form, they wouldn't tell us shit. Sometimes Umberto would regal us with stories of the horrible kid in his class who mouthed off to everyone. But that was about it. We let it go figuring if something that if something so theologically shocking came up, they'd likely talk to us about it anyway.
A couple of weeks ago the gospel reading was from Matthew 25:
This is one of my favorite gospel passages and the one that has lead me, a rather (snort) liberal, socially progressive person, to the Church. We studies this in RICA, and the beasties learned about it in their classes as well.
Now I've been trying for years to convey to my children how lucky they are. How they have a duty to those who have less. How we must care about the poor, the sick, the desolate, etc. How we are obligated because we care to fight for social justice. And I tried desperately to steer them away from seeing this obligation as charity but rather as responsibility to ourselves because others are us. This is not always an easy thing to pass onto a child. This scripture captures all of that feeling. It implores us to care for others because those others ARE CHRIST. Not LIKE Christ but Christ HIMSELF. This is a big deal. It means that every time we turn our back on suffering we are turning our back on Christ., This is no pansy ass scripture either. This is tough. This about judgment. Christ took the suffering of the world seriously, and he expected his followers to do the same. And this is why I love Dorothy Day. She lived this scripture in a way that I likely never will.
Back to the beasties. At least a week after this reading, we are driving somewhere, when Camille asks me "Is it true if we feed the poor, we feed Jesus?" This comes out of left field. We were just riding in silence (blissfully) so for a second I am a bit flummoxed. "Yes." I answer immediately but I'm scrambling for how I'm going to convey to this to my eight year old. She's never shown interest in poverty before so it's an important moment.
"How does that work?" she asks. "Jesus isn't here."
"Well what Jesus was saying was that he is here. He's inside every poor person we meet. His spirit is there inside them. And it's inside us. Which is why when we see someone who needs food or clothes, we need to help them. It's why Mama and Daddy get angry when rich people keep too much for themselves."
I look back quickly and can see that Camille is pondering my words. Piper is listening too.
"Does this mean we should give our food to people who need it?" Piper asks.
"Well do we have extra food?" I ask her.
"Yup. Lots. We should give some of it to people who are hungry." she answers.
"Right and then we'll be feeding Jesus too." Camille pipes up.
The rest of the trip is spent planning what food we can give to the local food banks. And the next time we go to Walmart, Piper sees the Angel tree, and wants to pick out a little girl to buy some gifts for. Both girls decided to give some of their allowance to the Salvation Army. I hope this is only the beginning of a life spent fighting for the disadvantaged and also for giving, willing and with an open heart.
A couple of weeks ago the gospel reading was from Matthew 25:
Then the righteous will answer him and say,
'Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you,
or thirsty and give you drink?
When did we see you a stranger and welcome you,
or naked and clothe you?
When did we see you ill or in prison, and visit you?'
And the king will say to them in reply,
'Amen, I say to you, whatever you did
for one of the least brothers of mine, you did for me.'
This is one of my favorite gospel passages and the one that has lead me, a rather (snort) liberal, socially progressive person, to the Church. We studies this in RICA, and the beasties learned about it in their classes as well.
Now I've been trying for years to convey to my children how lucky they are. How they have a duty to those who have less. How we must care about the poor, the sick, the desolate, etc. How we are obligated because we care to fight for social justice. And I tried desperately to steer them away from seeing this obligation as charity but rather as responsibility to ourselves because others are us. This is not always an easy thing to pass onto a child. This scripture captures all of that feeling. It implores us to care for others because those others ARE CHRIST. Not LIKE Christ but Christ HIMSELF. This is a big deal. It means that every time we turn our back on suffering we are turning our back on Christ., This is no pansy ass scripture either. This is tough. This about judgment. Christ took the suffering of the world seriously, and he expected his followers to do the same. And this is why I love Dorothy Day. She lived this scripture in a way that I likely never will.
Back to the beasties. At least a week after this reading, we are driving somewhere, when Camille asks me "Is it true if we feed the poor, we feed Jesus?" This comes out of left field. We were just riding in silence (blissfully) so for a second I am a bit flummoxed. "Yes." I answer immediately but I'm scrambling for how I'm going to convey to this to my eight year old. She's never shown interest in poverty before so it's an important moment.
"How does that work?" she asks. "Jesus isn't here."
"Well what Jesus was saying was that he is here. He's inside every poor person we meet. His spirit is there inside them. And it's inside us. Which is why when we see someone who needs food or clothes, we need to help them. It's why Mama and Daddy get angry when rich people keep too much for themselves."
I look back quickly and can see that Camille is pondering my words. Piper is listening too.
"Does this mean we should give our food to people who need it?" Piper asks.
"Well do we have extra food?" I ask her.
"Yup. Lots. We should give some of it to people who are hungry." she answers.
"Right and then we'll be feeding Jesus too." Camille pipes up.
The rest of the trip is spent planning what food we can give to the local food banks. And the next time we go to Walmart, Piper sees the Angel tree, and wants to pick out a little girl to buy some gifts for. Both girls decided to give some of their allowance to the Salvation Army. I hope this is only the beginning of a life spent fighting for the disadvantaged and also for giving, willing and with an open heart.
Year of Pleasures 29
Yesterday I went over to someones house. This might not seem like a big deal but for anyone who suffers depression, they know what an effort it takes to get yourself out the door. I don't have it as bad as some or nearly as bad as I used to. But I do suffer from Seasonal Affective Disorder, and it's bad enough that I'd rather just hibernate then go anywhere. It also effects my perceptions. Thus I blow things out of proportion. Misread social cues. Participate in sending myself into my own pit of depression. So making myself go out to someones house was a big deal.
And it was pretty awesome. This friend is someone I knew first online, and had finally met when we moved to Athens. I didn't get to see her as often as I wanted because of distance, and because I was busy spiraling into my own pit of self-pity. But it was worth all the effort emotionally to get there. I felt very comfortable in this friend's house. We talked and laughed, and I felt were pretty real with each other. Our kids had a great time. Umberto was pretty impressed that my friend's son mixed his own music. Piper disappeared for most of the visit, and Camille had a dog to play with (what more does she need). Even Rowena felt comfortable enough to throw a huge tantrum right before we left.
I may not be a BFF kind of person but I suspect I'm on my way of making a good friend.
Obtuse
I am not really sure if the universe/God really speaks to us. Perhaps the voice we listen so closely for is as H says "The Super Ego OH NO!" Or maybe that voice is something inside of us. Maybe it's all of these things. But I am not good at listening to these voices. I doubt them. Doubt myself. Second guess all my decisions. I rarely feel 100% about anything including small things like what we're having for dinner. Life is complicated for people like me. I had a friend whom answered my question about God's voice by stating "I tell him to knock me upside the head" (or something along those lines).
First I got John's response, which touched me and gave me a little faith. And then after a very pleasant day out, I was checking my cell phone for Facebook stuff, and found a post on my all telling me that my review was in the Bulletin for the Study of Religion. My first response was "What review?" And I really couldn't remember until H reminded me. I wrote a review at my post-adviser's request way back in May. Well it's finally out and headlining the journal. Smack in up across the head noted.
First I got John's response, which touched me and gave me a little faith. And then after a very pleasant day out, I was checking my cell phone for Facebook stuff, and found a post on my all telling me that my review was in the Bulletin for the Study of Religion. My first response was "What review?" And I really couldn't remember until H reminded me. I wrote a review at my post-adviser's request way back in May. Well it's finally out and headlining the journal. Smack in up across the head noted.
Monday, November 28, 2011
Ginger's Great Indecision
Today I dropped H off at school because of the rain. Normally he rides his bike and I avoid the god awful traffic that is UGA. But it's raining much too hard for bike riding. After I leave him off at the library, I am stuck in traffic. I watch as students scurry off to their various classes. They look alike in their jeans and sweat shirts. Then I see some guy who might be a grad. student or a professor. He has kind of longish curly blond hair, and a beard. He's wearing a corduroy jacket with jeans, and an oxford shirt. He's in intense conversation with one of those jean and sweat shirt clad kids, and it the longing hits me. Not for him. Rather to be him.
I thought I was okay with not going. With maybe going into another field. But I don't think I am okay. I think I am trying to bury the disappointment, the fear of more rejection. Mostly I think I am trying to deal with feeling like a failure. I feel so stalled. And because I feel stalled in this area, I am stalled at everything. Nothing gets done. I sit in front of this computer and eat. But I don't know how to break free from this apathy that has overtaken me.
When I lay out things, a Ph.D seems impossible. Yes, if UGA got a program it might be doable but that means placing everything in this one basket, and frankly after the Austin rejection, I am not confident that I can get in to a new program. I am scared of putting forth so much effort to be rejected. I know it is fear but I am not sure how to move beyond it or even if I should. Maybe I am not cut out for this world, and the rejection is a sign. To fight against fate or not?
And therein lies my problem. I feel like I found something I love to do. I found something I thought I was good at...I seemed to do well in terms of grades, etc. But then that something was snatched away and I am left in this limbo of self doubt. The whole bullshit about just doing what you love, and keep on going, drives me crazy because really at some point, you have to stop fighting battles against the inevitable. If I am no good at this, there is no point in wasting my time convincing other people, I am. And then if that is the case how does one let go? How does one move on?
I thought I was okay with not going. With maybe going into another field. But I don't think I am okay. I think I am trying to bury the disappointment, the fear of more rejection. Mostly I think I am trying to deal with feeling like a failure. I feel so stalled. And because I feel stalled in this area, I am stalled at everything. Nothing gets done. I sit in front of this computer and eat. But I don't know how to break free from this apathy that has overtaken me.
When I lay out things, a Ph.D seems impossible. Yes, if UGA got a program it might be doable but that means placing everything in this one basket, and frankly after the Austin rejection, I am not confident that I can get in to a new program. I am scared of putting forth so much effort to be rejected. I know it is fear but I am not sure how to move beyond it or even if I should. Maybe I am not cut out for this world, and the rejection is a sign. To fight against fate or not?
And therein lies my problem. I feel like I found something I love to do. I found something I thought I was good at...I seemed to do well in terms of grades, etc. But then that something was snatched away and I am left in this limbo of self doubt. The whole bullshit about just doing what you love, and keep on going, drives me crazy because really at some point, you have to stop fighting battles against the inevitable. If I am no good at this, there is no point in wasting my time convincing other people, I am. And then if that is the case how does one let go? How does one move on?
Untranslatable
Pain is not easily described be it emotional or physical. There is no way to reach inside yourself and pull the pain out to show someone. Sometimes words fail, and even those animals sounds we make when we hurt don't fully convey what is happening inside our bodies. There is no way to full share with another human being the experience of pain. Perhaps, this is why some turn to God.
My own pain grows in my belly like a fetus. It swells throughout me, making me big with the hurt. When the pain is bad it as if my skins is stretched taut and on fire. I lay on the bed curled around myself as if I need to shelter that agony from the world. I feel as if I have swallowed sorrow.
Sunday, November 27, 2011
Right Here, Right Now
Last night, I took some time to do the rosary. I find that this act of praying through the beads is meditative in way that most meditations have not worked for me. I am able by the fourth or fifth Hail Mary to just enter into a space where I am not filled with hectic thoughts. Last night, I came to this moment filled with a bit of sadness and some disappointment. I was praying for grace last night. Grace for myself and for my feelings towards others. By the time I hit that fourth Hail Mary I was feeling calmer and in that space I remembered something H had said to me on Thanksgiving day "Be happy for what you have right now."
At the time, of course, I took his words like a sulky child. Unwilling to be comforted, I did not take to heart what he was telling me. I wanted something for the future and was feeling angry that I had to wait. But last night, I looked over at my sleeping baby. Her arm curled over her head. Her lips pursed into a little pout. The curls that frame her round face. I was slayed once again with the immense love I felt towards her. And then I was there in the moment.
I don't have to live with this constant leaning into the future. Right now in this moment I have what I need. I can focus on what is before me without letting go of what I dream. But I can't let those dreams consume so much of me that I forget what is right here. Right now.
At the time, of course, I took his words like a sulky child. Unwilling to be comforted, I did not take to heart what he was telling me. I wanted something for the future and was feeling angry that I had to wait. But last night, I looked over at my sleeping baby. Her arm curled over her head. Her lips pursed into a little pout. The curls that frame her round face. I was slayed once again with the immense love I felt towards her. And then I was there in the moment.
I don't have to live with this constant leaning into the future. Right now in this moment I have what I need. I can focus on what is before me without letting go of what I dream. But I can't let those dreams consume so much of me that I forget what is right here. Right now.
Tuesday, November 22, 2011
This is Sparta!
Yesterday we are sitting outside at Jittery Joe's. Hanging out at coffee shops is a favorite treat for us, and we're teaching R the finer arts of this simple pleasure. C and P, never able to sit still for too long, have run up a slope that borders the patio area. It's reinforced with a bricked wall, upon which Camille stands. She looks down at us, raises her arms up and yells "THIS IS SPARTA!" H and I both laugh but I'm feeling pretty proud at the same time. We've been studying Ancient Greece, and I'm pretty impressed that she's shouting things like "We are Sparta" instead of something inane.
She's pretty clever. I tell H. And how cool is it that our kids shout things like that?
H nods and I can see that he's proud to. "It's not like they've seen the movie." (the movie 300...we do have some standards around here). We bask for a moment in how awesome we are as parents. Our kids don't quote t.v. shows. Instead they quote stuff about Ancient Greece.
And then comes the humbling. Umberto tells us about how there is a sign in the game they play online (Roblox) that shows a Sparta man kicking someone off a cliff with the line "This is Sparta."
Children...they have a way of humbling you.
She's pretty clever. I tell H. And how cool is it that our kids shout things like that?
H nods and I can see that he's proud to. "It's not like they've seen the movie." (the movie 300...we do have some standards around here). We bask for a moment in how awesome we are as parents. Our kids don't quote t.v. shows. Instead they quote stuff about Ancient Greece.
And then comes the humbling. Umberto tells us about how there is a sign in the game they play online (Roblox) that shows a Sparta man kicking someone off a cliff with the line "This is Sparta."
Children...they have a way of humbling you.
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