The next weekend, I needed to run to the library to return a few books and pick up some of those requests.  I also needed the next book in Odysseus’ adventures.  We ripped through the first two a whole lot faster than I had imagined.  I had planned on going sans kiddo to make the errand a tad speedier.  Athena and Apollo wanted to ride bikes in our cul-de-sac, but Artemis suddenly wanted to come with me.  I looked up at Patris Maximus from the adorable little face wrapped around my left leg with a questioning glance.  He shrugged and smiled.  So Artemis and I set off for some rare one-on-one time together while the other two-thirds of the Triad stayed with their dad to indulge in a little neighborhood chaos. 

The library was actually not all that crowded for a Saturday afternoon and we were able to make our way hand in hand to the return slots and the request shelves at Artemis’ pace without inconveniencing other patrons.  She helped me take the requested books out of their blue messenger envelops and plop them into our rather large library bag.  After that, we wandered over to the children’s section to meander through the stacks.  She picked out a movie and a few books of her own along the way.  In the back of the section stands a row of shelves that hold all the children’s paperback series collections.  This was where I knew I’d find the next few books we needed for our bedtime story.  Sure enough, there they were.  I scooped up the third and fourth books, hoping that would hold us for the week since the fifth and sixth were not on the shelf at the moment.  I handed them to Artemis to tuck into the top of the bag since she had been enjoying that task so far.  She took one look at them and must have recognized the format of the cover art because jubilant dancing and chanting ensued.  She began kicking her tiny legs out and spining herself around in a circle, singing “Diss-es-us, Diss-ee-us, Yah, Diss-ee-us!” at a singificantly un-library like volume.  The librarian who happened to be shelving books about eight feet away, nearly dropped about six hardback books on her left foot.  I smiled at her apologetically and asked Artemis to please sing a tad softer.  The librarian laughed and told me that if she was singing about books, she was welcome to sing as loudly as she pleased.  She had just never seen a two year old go nuts for classic Greek literature. 

For what it’s worth, neither had I.

In her fantabulous (I’m on a role with the new vocabulary, here.  Just go with it.) book, The Canon: A Whirligig Tour of the Beautiful Basics of Science, Pulitzer Prize winning science writer, Natalie Angier, bemoans the low value placed on basic scientific knowledge in everyday American society.  For the most part, if you ask the majority of people in your life who are not professional rocket scientists what they think about science, she explains, you’re more than likely to hear about that high school (or on rare occasions- college) chemistry/physics class they failed that sounded the death knell to any further scientific study or interest on their part.  I know she’s got me pegged at any rate.  For me it was high school physics and a terrible case of senioritis.  The only science class I took after that was a college chem class (under duress for four required lab science credits) that I passed with a C because in that class you could average a 32% on your exams and still make a C.  What did I need science for anyway?  I scoffed upon completion of the glorious financial transaction which was selling the hated chemistry text back to the campus bookstore for Friday night’s beer money.   I was a liberal arts major, not a science geek.  And there you have it.  This illustrates the unfortunate reality that is a majority of us, sneering in some wholly unattractive manner at those who chose to torture themselves needlessly (in our eyes anyway) with the study and pursuit of scientific matters versus appreciating the benefit to us all of attaining a fundamental understanding of these major fields of science.   

Why is understanding science important?  There are lots and lots of answers to that question, some more common than others and Angier addresses many of them in her witty, entertaining style.  But for me, re-visiting science has become important in a whole new way.  And it’s really, honestly, in spite of the fact that I, oddly enough, find myself in the inevitable position of filing the role of science teacher as we venture further and further down the homeschooling path.  Science has become important to me in the same way that history has become important to me.  It is an integral part of the human story.  Science is part of your story.  Part of my story.  Part of our human story.  And if I am to continue to strive for peace and understanding in this world, I cannot achieve even a modicum of that without paying homage to the part of myself that owes that very understanding to the sacred discoveries of science.  Suddenly, science has become the shiny new key to furthering my personal and spiritual growth and with that tiny shift in perspective, brand new obsessions are taking hold of me these days.  But darn if it didn’t take a good three decades for that shift to happen. 

There are loads of factors I can blame my delayed appreciation of science on, I am sure.  Terribly dry textbooks, poor instructors (from the utterly sleep inducing to the terrifyingly bizarre,)  hip to be square peer culture, sheer adolescent sloth and the list goes on and on.  In my first half decade of parenting, I have observed a most fascinating phenomenon.  Young children are natural scientists.  They do not have to be taught to think scientifically.  Almost every aspect of life is new to them and therefore they live in one big, grand, and ongoing experiment.  Formulation of a hypothesis is as easy as breathing and wonder and awe are provoked by the results of every venture.  The Maximus family spent all day today indulging in the delights of young scientific exploration at Texas A&M University’s annual celebration of National Chemistry Week.  Honestly, I was seriously impressed.  There was an amazing variety of hands-on demonstrations and activities for the Triad of Chaos to venture through wide-eyed, staffed by eager college students who managed to adjust their vocabulary and presentation at a moment’s notice to the aptitude of their audience, be that mildly intrigued preadolescent or curious preschooler.  Each of the Triad had a clear favorite exhibit.  Athena loved the acid/base indicator station where she got to use plain old goldenrod colored printer paper and a bottle of window cleaner to make bright red handprints.  Apollo was totally captivated by a crazy contraption that channeled the carbon dioxide let off by dry ice dropped in a plastic bottle through PVC piping and into a soap bubble that fell to the floor and burst, disappearing impressively into nothing but a wisp of smoke.  He actually cried when we first tried to move on to the next station.  And Artemis was just as dazzled by the milk kaleidoscope where she got to add a few drops of food coloring to a dish of milk and then watch what happened when she stuck a toothpick dipped in dish soap into the solution. 

Right now, the Triad loves learning about science just as much as they love learning about anything else.  It is my hope that my recently altered perspective on the importance of science is a tool I can utilize for myself when it comes to presenting new and increasingly challenging science material to my eager learners.  Hopefully, it is also a perspective I can even manage to share with them so they may continue to at the very least appreciate and possibly even enjoy exploring various topics across a variety of scientific disciplines.  In my own small way, I will endeavor to do my part to halt the spread of biophyschemophobia to the next generation.  

We are going through one of these blessedly frustrating, but hopefully fruitful,  reassesment period right now ourselves.  I like to think we have always been fairly child-led to a point, but I would not have every used the term unschooled, especially since most who ascribe to this philosophy see it much more as a lifestyle than an educational approach and there are large areas of our lives that we are decidedly not anywhere near unschooling.  But about a week and a half ago, Athena basically said to me that she wants to keep going to her various co-op classes and she wants to just learn about stuff that she is curious about but “not other stuff that’s boring.”  The “other stuff” being advanced phonics and mathematics that has no apparent real world purpose or a direct connection to ancient history.  Now on one hand, as I explained to her, she will have to eventually sit down and work through the boring stuff in order to progress through her education.  But on the other hand, I estimate we are about one to two years “ahead” anyway so I feel I can totally afford her the luxury of taking her foot of the educational gas so she can slow down and enjoy a bit of the facinating scenery at her own pace.  She has begun expressing specific views and insightful opinions on how she learns best and the types of methods she’d like to see us put into practice for various subjects.  I am reminding myself to stay open to her feedback, even though part of my brain is just dumbfounded that these sorts of conversations are taking place between my five year old and myself. 

So for now, she and I have come to an agreement about what will take place “school-wise” over the next two weeks or so.  Her list includes a long overdue aformentioned Egyptian Feast Night, continue the study of the Arabic and Hebrew languages via the library and iTunes, make her Halloween costume as Nut the Egyptian Sky Goddess, read about animals in different biomes, do projects about the tundra biome, do projects involving our microscope, read National Geographic, complete an Ancient Egyptian history pocket and treasure chest, finish listening to A Wrinkle In Time via audiobook, make herself a chore chart with self designated chores, memorize the Girl Scout Promise and Maya Angelou’s “Life Doesn’t Frighten Me,” learn to meditate with a set of prayer beads and write letters to all her friends back in Virginia about her recent birthday party.  When I look at it all written out, the girl is still interested in doing (at least) a (metric) ton of learning.  She just wants to do it her way and on her terms for right now.  I can understand that.  Meanwhile, I will continue to converse with her about the rest of this semester and we will see how everything shakes out. 

We wake up whenever we wake up on Monday, Wednesday and Friday (Tues and Thurs we have co-op classes so we have to be up by no later than 8am– which we usually are anyway– to make a 10am class.)  We have breakfast.  I clean up breakfast and lay out our morning lesson stuff (which is often done while still in pajamas.)  We see how much we can get done until Athena says she’d like a break, until I say I’d like a break or until we get through whatever I’ve set out– whichever comes first.  I usually give Apollo and Artemis some sort of project to do also, since they do not like to be left out of the action.  Seeing as they are only two years old, they often finish it or lose interest and wander off long before Athena is done.  I try to keep a decent eye on them at the same time as I am working with Athena, but they have been know to get into some pretty creative trouble during this time period.  I’m still working on managing that a little better.  We have a morning snack. Then they play, I do chores, check my email, write a blog entry, shower or whatever.  We have lunch.  I get the twins down for a nap and Athena and I sit down with afternoon lessons or projects.  Same thing again– until one of us wants a break or until we finish what’s laid out.   The twins wake up.  We have afternoon snack. (They are eating about six times a day right now.) and they play while I get whatever I’ve set for myself done.  That’s the extent of our “school day”.  If other learning adventures happen in or around there, then fabulous.  If not, fabulous. 

I have stopped worrying about how much material we cover or don’t each day.  It all evens out in the end.  Some days she’s totally engaged and actually wants school work all. Dang. Day.  And we get through more than one day of material.  Other days…..  We barely get through 25%.  I have a general order I want to cover the material in and we just keep plodding along the path however our day allows us to.  This has let me let go of a lot of stress because if we have a day where the twins are on the warpath, Athena’s cranky and uncooperative and I have a headache– it allows me to totally feel the freedom to chuck school for the day and head to the pool with some friends or something.

My best advice in this matter is to just try to find a GENERAL (not specific) rhythm that works for you and your children MOST (not all) days and realize that some days you will be totally amazed at how productive they seem and other days will feel like you have gotten abso-freakin-lutely nothing done.

And when you are grown, with children of your own, it practically moves you to tears to be blessed enough to facilitate such adventures.  It is a priceless gift to be present to witness such passionate youth at both work and play, simultaneously teaching and being taught.   

Your neighbor waves cheerfully and promptly goes back to coordinating the pointy-stick jabbing venture.  Oh yeah.  She mentioned something about homeschooling at the Labor Day block party……  So this is how homeschoolers spend their Thursdays.

Today was the first fun-filled day of my Ancient Scientists class.  And those kids jabbing stick in the ground were happily experiencing Prehistoric Man’s discovery and invention of tools.  A pointy stick is easier to jab into the ground than a flat stick.  Ta-da!  Pointy stick is a useful tool.    We also explored the discovery of music and musical instruments and the discovery of farming.  Next class we’ll be in the backyard instead, but I must confess it sure was just a little fun startling the neighbor today! 

Folks seem to come down on two basic sides of the debate, as well as falling somewhere in the middle.  Either people are really excited about the space they’ve designed for their homeschooling or people think that homeschooling is far too integrated into their daily lives to seperate it into a self contained space of its own.  I have been facinated by the elloquent explanations from both points of view. 

I am especially enjoying sifting through them since we recently bought a new house and kept the need for a dedicated homeschooling space close to the top of the list of “must haves” when hunting for our new abode. As a matter of fact, I already cracked the whip on poor Patris Maximus and he has managed to crank out one seven foot by five foot shelving unit along one wall (which I have, naturally, already filled to max capacity.) I have one wall left to paint and I will get the rest of our maps and whatnot back up. Patris Maximus will be lending a hand and mounting two large pieces of showerboard on that wall once it dries to use as dry erase boards and one of these days, he’ll get an indentical shelve built on the wall across from the first one.  We ended up converting the formal dining room of our new house into our classroom space. It is bright and sunny with hardwood floors and right off the kitchen for sink and stove access when needed.  I guess I come down somewhere in the middle of the discussion.  A dedicated space for our homeschooling feels lovely.  All our materials are easily within reach and well organized.  We have lots of wall space for maps and posters and our timeline.  We have a small television set on an old fashioned foot locker that the kids can work themselves to watch science, history, Spainsh and sign language videos any time they choose.  The material Athena is now capable of working on completely independently is easy for her to locate and settle down with whenever it suites her.  Artemis and Apollo even have their own shelf of puzzles and games to amuse themselves with when Athena and I are working together on a lesson.  I like this cheerful, cozy space where we are busily making memories of delightful learning adventures together.   I also like that half finished art projects can be left to rest where they are and returned to when inspiration once again comes to call without risking a nasty run-in with someone’s lunch.  And that science projects have an official spot to progress in without the risk of a well-meaning Patris Maxius mistaking them for trash before Athena has finished her observations.  Does this mean that all learning must take place in this room?  That no homeschooling occurs elsewhere in our home?  Uh. No.  Not even close.  Any project that requires a sink oven or stove, naturally takes place in the kitchen.  Now that we’ve entered the modern era and have cable for the first time in four and a half years, we’ve discovered the amazing capabilities of a DVR and at any given time there are a slew of programs stored on it about biology, dinosaurs, Ancient Egypt or Greece, and of course the latest episodes of Word Girl.  There is a facinating fungi we are observing spreading across our front landscaping and sidewalk chalk drawn hop scotch boards are our favorite method of practicing skip counting.  The computer is in the back bedroom we are calling the office for the time being and them, of course, there is the reading.  The reading that happens in every room of the house.  Even the bathrooms.

I am really happy and satisfied with the classroom space we’ve created for ourselves, but it in no way extricates learning from our daily lives.  If anything, it anchors it, gives it a cornerstone even.  A classroom, we are finding, is not a limiting factor for us whatsoever.  How about you?  What has your family’s experience been with a designated homeschool space?  Did it work for you?  Why or why not?  I would love to continue the discussion here, so feel free to leave a comment that shares your thoughts or experiences with this topic.

 At first I was torn between stretching a timeline across every spare scrap of wall space I could rustle up and using the scroll method.  But then it occured to me that we could combine the two and get the best of both worlds.  I wanted Athena to be able to grasp the continuity of history that you can get from a mounted timeline, but we only have so much wall space.  I also wanted her to understand the vast amount of time that human beings were not a driving force in the Earth’s history and see how history from the human perspective has accelerated over time.  So, with a little handyman help from Patris Maximus, I created a timeline scroll that is mounted on the wall for safe keeping and reference purposes, but also removable for closer examination and addition without taking up every last inch of our home’s walls.  Here’s how we did it.

 We bought two rolls of heavy duty brown mailing paper, 30″ wide and 15 feet long each.  We also bought two 1″ diameter dowel rods that are 3 feet long.  I used clear packing tape to take the first 10-12″ or so of the first roll of paper and secure it to the first dowel rod.  then I rolled the paper around the rod until I reached the end of that roll.  I took about 3-4″ of the end of the first roll and the beginning of the second roll and overlapped them, fastening them together with the packing tape.  Then I rolled the second roll of paper around the first dowel rod until I reached the end of that roll and once again used about 10-12″ of paper to fasten the end of the second roll of paper to the second dowel rod.  I now had a scroll that was 30″ wide and about 28 feet long with about 3″ of dowel rod sticking out of the top and bottom at both ends. 

 Patris Maximus built upper and lower, left and right brackets for the dowel rods to slide in and out of with a sort of hook on them and mounted them on one stretch of wall in our classroom so that the timeline is displayed with about a 5 foot section open at a time and can be scrolled back and forth as needed.  The entire scroll can also easily be slid out of the brackets and spread out on the table to add material to it.  I will have to ask him to write out detailed instructions for the brackets at a later date as I honestly have not the foggiest clue how he built them. 

 I drew in five lines from the bottom of the page, moving upwards about 2″ between lines.  The firts line marks the eras (Precambrian, Paleozoic, Mesozoic, Cenozoic.)  The second marks off the periods, the third the epochs, and the forth the ages.  The fifth line measures time itself starting at 15 billion years ago and moving forward all the way to 2015BCE (or AD, depending on who you ask.)  Again, I wanted to show the expanse of the Earth’s history, the relative amount of human history and the appearance of acceleration towards modern day.  But I also wanted to make it all fit.  Below is the scale I used to make all of this fit into a 28 foot timeline:

Section 1- 15 BYA (billion years ago) to 1 BYA: 1″=1 billion years

Section 2- 1 BYA to 100 MYA (million years ago): 2″=100 million years

Section 3- 100 MYA to 10 MYA: 2″=10 million years 

Section 4- 10 MYA to 1 MYA: 2″=1 million years

Section 5- 1 MYA to ~100,000BC: 2″=100,000 years

Section 6- ~100,000BC to 10,000BC: 2″=10,000 years

Section 7- 10,000BC to 3,000BC: 2″=1,000 years

(Sections 8-10 follow the general scale suggested at Paula’s Archives) 

Section 8- 3,000BC to 1500BCE/AD: 2″=100 years

Section 9- 1500 to 1740: 2″=20 years

Section 10- 1740 to 2015: 2″=5 years

We have just begun, this week, to add pictures to it, all located and downloaded off the web for free from a variety of sources.  I am hopeful that this will continue to be a useful and inspiring tool in our little homeschool for years to come and really look forward to watching it blossom with Athena, Apollo and Artemis over our next four years of history studies.