Dispatch from the Revolution: Homeschooling

Olympic Blvd. Los Angeles 2014

Virus or no virus, the show must and does go on. I woke, if not refreshed, then certainly feeling better, and Oliver and I both got busy, our second week of homeschooling. This eighth grade year will be a bit more scheduled -- more homeschool and less unschool, but it's still a daunting task that I am at once thrilled by and terrified of messing up. We're using some curriculum for writing and vocabulary, and today's "lesson" included the use of concrete nouns in a one page description of a painting or photographic scene in an art book. Oliver can't spell anything -- and I mean anything -- but he is a damn good writer. He generally writes something out on paper and then dictates it into an app on his iPad. Then we go through each sentence and proof it. Let's give a wild round of applause for technology! This year, we'll be doing the following:

1. Writing - we're using a textbook called Wordsmith by Janie B. Cheaney. I got this recommendation from a homeschool mentor, and it's a great, simple program, albeit a bit old-fashioned. I believe it's from a Christian homeschool source, but so far I've not encountered anything objectionable (we did a lower level book under the same title last year).
2. Grammar - Oliver is taking a high school grammar course at a very cool secular homeschool place called Urban Homeschool. He took a science class there last year, and while he has reservations about the kids that go (I think kids that have been homeschooled all their lives are different than the kids Oliver hangs out with), he appreciates having someone other than moi to work with him.
3. Reading - Can you believe that Oliver read three books on his own this summer? That is definitely more books than he's probably read in all the years that came before this summer. They were close to grade level, and he listened to the audible story as he read on his Kindle with the words magnified. Let's hear it again for technology! We'll hopefully continue with this and supplement his study of American history (see below) with novels and poetry geared toward it.
4. American History -- I'm so excited about the history book that we're reading. It's Howard Zinn's A Young People's History of the United States. It's adapted from Zinn's adult history book and basically tells history from the point of view of the people -- the farmers, the slaves, the Native Americans -- as opposed to what Zinn calls the leaders and the conquerors. This historical perspective is upsetting to many conservatives, and I believe it's part of the basis for that polemic of a movie America: Imagine the World Without Her. Since I have some family members who rhapsodize about that film, I'm not going to go into it here, but I'm as likely to go see it as I am to see a triple-x porn flick. Come to think of it, Michael Moore's movies, from the other side of the spectrum irritate the hell out of me, too.  Here's an excerpt from Zinn's book:  People who write and read history have gotten used to seeing terrible things such as conquest and murder as the price of progress. This is because many of them think that history is the story of governments, conquerors and leaders. In this way of looking at the past, history is what happens to states, or nations. The actors in history are kings, presidents, and generals. But what about factory workers, farmers, people of color, women, and children? They make history, too. I could probably type out the whole introduction for you -- it's that interesting.
5. Math - I don't do math and won't do math. Oliver goes two to three times a week up the street to a math tutoring place and works at his own pace. As far as I'm concerned, unless he expresses some over-riding interest in the subject, I hope he'll learn algebra and geometry, as well as functional math and then call it a day. I really don't understand why people are forced to take math well into high school, particularly if they abhor it. Oliver actually likes a lot of it, though, so who knows where he'll end up?
6. Science - Next week, Oliver will be starting at a school that provides one-to-one teaching and will be taking a Life Sciences course twice a week. The class is expensive, but it's a novel idea (originally used for kids who are professional actors or athletes or who just can't hack ordinary school) and really excited both of us when we toured the place. Options for high school abound -- you can basically take any high school requirement, AP classes and electives, art and music. When the proverbial ship comes in, I might transfer him there full-time and return to Bora Bora on that same ship. You know Bora Bora is my true home.
7. Electives - We've started with this free, cool program called OnInnovation that builds on Oliver's natural entrepreneurial instincts and have downloaded the lesson plans, watched videos and worked through the discussion sheets. Again, let's hear it for technology! I've signed Oliver up for free science classes once a month at the Science Museum of Los Angeles County, and we'll take advantage of field trips organized by the homeschooling group that we joined again.

Speaking of technology, I had the best exchange with my dear friend Marie Ange, whom I wrote of here the other day. We instant messaged one another for a half an hour early this morning -- a half an hour of heartfelt words and memories and laughter. I know many of you think technology is a burden, a time suck, and a destroyer of community, and I might be one of the world's biggest contrarians, but I am grateful for it every single day. I'm not just grateful that it's provided a way out of crippling isolation for the legion of persons with disabilities, but for me in particular to keep in touch with people I love who I ordinarily might have let slip away into fond memory.

Marie Ange

I was just riffling through a small box, looking for the business card of The Foot Doctor, whose name I can never remember, so that I can make an appointment for Henry, whose big toe appears to be acting up again, not responding to the Epsom salt soaks. Anyhoo. I was riffling through the cards and pulled out the above photo that I haven't seen in years, sent to me by my old friend Mary Angel (or Marie Ange, as we said in our bad French accents).  I'm still a tad sick, as is Sophie, and I'm feeling all whimpery, edgy, like the end of the world is coming and it's all centered around me. Do you know that feeling? I keep reading people's gratitude lists and keep staving off the sinking feeling that --what? Just a sinking feeling, I guess. A sinking feeling that has nothing to do with anything in particular. I could chalk it up to the virus I'm fighting -- these sorts of viruses attack the central nervous system, I think, and push me into mild depression. I guess. I'm not really sure of anything, to tell you the truth, other than that I have a sore throat and a vague feeling of dread and weirdness. Mary Angel is one funny lady, and we shared many laughs during the four years we were in school together, many at the expense of the evangelicals that surrounded us in family, friends and atmosphere. There was no mockery, though, just amusement and solidarity. I guess. She took that photo many years after college, though, when we hadn't seen each other for a long, long time, and while I don't remember where I was when she sent it to me or what I was feeling, I must have thought it funny enough to save and stash away. Today, though, I felt buoyed up when I pulled it out of that stack of cards, buoyed up and out of myself and into laughter. Pierced. Saved. I know.

Thank you, Marie Ange. Body piercing did indeed save my life, at least for today.