Singing For Fun

I picked up a USB microphone yesterday. The kids were thrilled to try it out with the Audacity recording freeware. They sang a song we learned by rote from a recording of bluegrass legend Doyle Lawson. Once they'd learned the parts (awhile back by now), they started playing around with them. Spazzerific is doing his best to be a bass, while Squirrelly Girlie has a harmony part and Banana Brain takes the lead.

Once we get the ins and outs figured out, I intend to let them work with Audacity themselves and do some digital recording. For now, here's their singing in mp3 format.

Click to listen to Hiding From The Storm Outside

Fair Day

Breakneck took the kids to the local fair yesterday. They came back with stories of the "Birds of Prey" show, the horse-jumping, and the many friends and acquaintances they met there.

Of most interest to me, though, was that my painfully shy 11-year-old found out about a local country radio personality who was there at the station's booth. He was determined he was going to go talk to "Shotgun."

Which he did. He made conversation with a total stranger, a minor celeb at that. Just as he was about to leave, "Shotgun" said, "Hey," and called him by name. "Hang on a minute." Then he gave my boy a promotional ball cap. There is no better gift in this kid's world.

Today, the same painfully-shy boy took my library card, called the local library, and left a message for the librarian that we needed our books renewed as we wouldn't be in town this week.

I know his rate of growth in the area of extroversion wouldn't be acceptable in a public-school setting. But given time, he's coming into his own.

My younger two came back without having run off from their Auntie, having snuggled a baby goat, and so on. They did not look like themselves when I greeted them at the door last night.


Apparently some company or other sponsored some highly-skilled professional face painters, who turned my kids into the wild animals they are at heart.

Hated Subjects Need Snuggles

My 11-year-old has yet to be persuaded that a regular study of math is useful. We require him to do it anyway. In fact, since he's not willing to motivate himself, he's getting moved into a workbook-based program (as soon as it arrives in the mail).

He's also getting Language Arts and Science this way for the coming year. We're going to use this as a way to explain the structure and framework of textbook-based learning. One of my five key goals is that the kids know how to gather information from any format, so that they can choose any type of post-secondary training or career they wish.

In the meantime, I sat down with them yesterday, and we read and snuggled. It was quite funny to me, because they weren't there to learn. They listened to the story about ancient calendars, complete with multiplication, division, addition and subtraction equations embedded. It talked about the various ancient calendars and the problems with synchronizing them to the earth's actual orbit of the sun.

They weren't hugely engaged by the end of it, because two of the four are barely school-age. But I had four little leeches pressed into my sides, hanging over my shoulder, etc. They were there for the snuggles.

At the end of the chapter, we looked over the question page. I said, "Let's play a guessing game," and we did some of the questions orally.





Then we moved on to Joanne Stanbridge's Famous Dead Canadians, and a silly version of Samuel de Champlain's biography called "Samuel de Champlain's Underwear." The high point of the story is when he takes on the LaChine rapids to prove himself to the native people. They go buck nekkid. Sam insists on retaining his undershirt. The story has him sailing through the whitewater, scared to death, with his undershirt flapping in the breeze.

At the close of the story is a point-form timeline of the events of Champlain's life, for those who need slightly more serious factology. The story's purpose is to get kids interested in Champlain and history in the first place.

They're interested.

Language is an Art Indeed

Today, Dave assigned Spazzerific to write an essay. The Spazz hasn't done this before, and I honestly have to admit I've forgotten a lot of the process of assembly I learned in school.

Dave asked the Spazz to come up with a topic. He came up with a topic and a half-page of known facts and quotes on the California condor. Dave had a look and asked, "Where did you get this info from?"

"Well," said the Spazz, "Some of it's from my bird book, and some of it, I made up."

Dave burst out laughing.

The Spazz hid behind me and burst out crying.

Once I got Dave to shut up, I explained to Spazzerific that Daddy was laughing because it sounded like he was telling a joke when he gave his answer. Dave knows perfectly well that Spazz never "makes up" facts, especially about birds, which was what made his comment so humourous. Thankfully, the Spazz accepted the misunderstanding. The poor little duffer sniffled a bit and said, "I'm just nervous, because it's my first essay."

I have the hardest time getting this kid to slow down and accept help. He thinks he has to know everything about everything, and he penalizes himself fiercely when he "fails." I'm concerned that we nail down the skill of realistic self-evaluation and develop proper information-gathering tools to avoid feelings of failure and frustration. The essay format is not an end in itself, it's a tool. My job is to adjust this kid's thinking from "assignments are the end goal" to "assignments are ways to outfit my toolbox of skills."

"I only wanted a topic," Dave explained. "We'll show you how to write the essay."

So we sat down and I made him an outline to work with. He decided what to say in his introductory paragraph, and then began organizing three other paragraphs. He's not quite done yet. I'll continue walking him through it, and then we'll see how he feels about it. Better, I hope.

Of Shoes and Boots

On Saturday, Dave took Spazzerific skiing with several extended family members. The rest of us stayed at SuperGran's (Dave's mom) and hung out. Now, when I was in public school, there were pretty much one or two years where a kid could go skiing. I hated it, and avoided it after the first year. However, our bratties have the chance to go every year. Dave scours garage sales for good used skis and ski boots every spring, often available for as little as $5 a set.

Today, the girls got their tap shoes on and started practicing for their dance exams. They have oral questions to answer, a group dance to learn, and barre and floor work to demonstrate. The Spazz knows that as long as he takes his exam, it's his choice whether he continues in dance next year. However, if he wants to switch to judo, he has to pass the exam.

He does enjoy dance somewhat, just not that much. A year off might be good for him. He's learned enough that he could pick it up again later in life, should he want to. The point is not to make it a permanent requirement, but to use it as a tool for practicing self-application, working with others, and motor skills.

I explained to him how taking his exam will help him prepare for taking a driver's test later in life. It's a necessary skill for getting along in the world. The point is not to make dance (or soccer, or hockey, etc.) the end, but allow it to be the means for building life skills.

Impromptu Explorations

The kids got their hands on a very large book the other day. It's one I've had since I was a kid, and I picked up my basic facts of world history and a lot of other subjects from it. Spazzerific (age nearly-11) commandeered the situation, reading trivia about the 1066 invasion of England to the other three kids.

Then he required Banana Brain (age 9) to be silent while he quizzed the Littles (ages 7 and nearly 5) on a variety of insects, animals and birds from around the world, asking them to visually identify the pictures.

Totally not planned. Nobody had a hot clue they were fulfilling skills and knowledge on a par with and beyond their grade level. They just found a cool book and shared it with each other. In the meantime, I sat quietly in the corner and observed the following skills:

Narration
Reading
Vocabulary building
Teaching learned info to others
Leadership skills
Team-building effort
Taking turns
Team self-organization
Team sharing of needed info and skills
Acquisition of entirely new information

This took a total of maybe half an hour. They covered Social Studies and Biology topics. All I did was correct a pronunciation or two as they read new words.

Singing a New Song

The kids had a new experience on Sunday. Daddy had to work, so we covered chorus time for him. The girls (ages 9 and nearly 7) were "songleaders" of sorts, up front with their teenaged cousin, while Mommy played piano and sang. Spazzerific manned the overhead machine, which for him is a lot of public exposure.

We practiced nearly everyday last week, using a variety of different techniques. Sometimes, we sat down at the piano. Sometimes, we took turns singing the lines of a song, one after the other, like an echo. This is a great memory exercise. We had two practices with our guitar-playing cousin (second cousin, if you want to get technical). The kids were rewarded with the congregation's compliments and encouragements afterward.

We're blessed with a congregation that does not fuss or bother about the quality of the music. The focus in genuinely on serving God. Some of us musicians can get our shorts in a knot from time to time about the standards we set for ourselves, but the rest of the church isn't too worried about it. Over the last six years, we've had children and adults alike learning to build their musical skills through worship. I know I've grown. The sheer lack of snobbery or concern about "appearances" is delightful.

Story and Spelling

The cat fell off the roof of the house today. (You'd have to know our cat - this is par for the course with him.) This prompted a big fight at supper over who was going to get to tell Daddy. Without really thinking about it, I said, “Why don’t you each take turns telling different parts of the story?”

We then divided the story equally between the four kids. After that, we discussed who would go first, middle and last, depending on which part they each wanted to tell. Then I coached the four-year-old on what parts his story would have. We came up with three sentences – a beginning, middle and end.

There we go. A study in basic story structure.

After supper, the kids made a phone call to their homeschooling friends-at-a-distance, which somehow turned into an impromptu spelling bee. Banana Brain’s little friend Blondie came up with all kinds of odd quizzes.

Spazzerific jumped in on it too, looking up esoteric dinosaur names to give Banana Brain some ammunition for Blondie, and referencing Blondie’s convoluted bird-name questions in his Field Guide to the Birds. This activity got louder and louder, until the mothers on both ends of the line were telling the children to tone it down. Oh, the giggling. Oh, the inadvertent learning. ;~)

The W5

WHO: It's us again. You know. Breakneck Dave... Zookeeper Cat... Spazzerific... Banana Brain... Squirrelly Girlie... and of course, Brat Boy, who bears no relation to that occasional feature on
the cover of Weekly World News. Well, almost none.

WHAT: We are an unschool.

The Lazy Creek Zoo features four wild (but not uncultivated) children, two cats, a dog, and the occasional irrational parent. (The chickens are still missing...) Our methodology is simple. "Here's a trumpet. Go play it."Well, not quite that haphazard. We don't believe in goofing around withour kids' development, and we do believe that learning - even unschooling -has an underlying structure.

WHEN: Year-round, really. We have pauses for seeding season, changes in teaching style as we move from winter books to summer hands-on. When you're learning from daily life, you don't
really get breaks. Even the days you stay in bed, you learn things about what kids will do when they think no one's looking.

WHERE: Everywhere. Anytime. Whenever somebody asks a wild question about why the cat has to get neutered or all the details of the new cousin's ultrasound picture, there's a conversation.

WHY: Oh, goodness, I have no idea. (Just kidding.) Because it's easiest, actually. Cat is a laid-back, float-through-life kind of chick when it comes to home and family. If the kids want to bake something, fix something, or try something, a better question is, why not?

As a nod to the subject links, we don't school in strict subjects. When we read, for instance, we take into account Language Arts, any applicable critical thinking, and the content being read (often related to something educational). However, we do keep a nodding acquaintance with the streams of thought that comprise an education, and under each heading you'll find beloved incidents that illustrate how our unschooling day might go. Go ahead and feel inspired. Or weirded out. Either one is a normal state at our house.

More unschooling talk:

Unschooling FAQ at Unschooling.com
Family Unschoolers Network (FUN)
Can Christians Unschool?

What is Unschooling?

Unschooling does not mean the removal of a reliable, measurable educational process. It does not mean the required elimination of all curriculum. It does not mean the whole house goes wandering off into the wild blue yonder.

Well, it could. Sometimes that's fun.

Unschooling means the removal of the school-style setting.

That's all. In our house, that means things are learned by a lot of reading, observation, casual discussion, and simply working on stuff together.

"Learning is not the product of teaching. Learning is the product of the activity of learners." - John Holt