First days

First day, last day, another day.

The first day of school: one a senior, the other in eighth grade.

Keep in mind that there are three others out there, doing their own thing. One film editing in New York City, the other analyzing data, writing, being married and caring for his own schoolboy in South Carolina, and another getting ready to begin her third year of law school. Having them out there impacts a parent’s perspective.

Every day is a first day, a last day, another day.

Here in this place, the senior drove off around seven in his Miata, the car he bought last spring with his own money that he’d earned at his own job bagging groceries. It’s been a nerve-wracking few months for me, because the Miata is a manual transmission. I first had to teach him how to drive it, and then I had to wait every time he drove off in it, praying that he would be able to navigate the dreaded hills without stalling and causing havoc. Waiting until the time I’d estimate it would take him to reach his destination, assuming that if the phone had not rung yet, it was fine, and just to be sure, checking online traffic maps for red spots and other signs of crashes.

After some months of this, I was not as nervous as I was this time last year, when he drove off to school (in another car) for the very first time – in a driving rain, as I recall. But I still couldn’t relax for those first twenty minutes or so and I still checked the online maps.

And here it is, 10:24 am – I think it’s okay to let down my guard now. Until, of course, from about 3:15-4.

But there he is, I’m assuming, beginning that senior year of high school. There have been big changes in his Catholic high school this year, and I am hoping they are for the better. It’s been an okay experience – not great, by any means, but the faculty line-up for his senior year classes looks good, and is, surprisingly, mostly male. Which is good for a kid who’s basically grown up without a dad on this earth.

(And for college? We’re not uptight about it. He’s got a path mapped out and is ready to take it. It’s his, and not for me writing about.)

The eighth grader was mostly ready to return to the school in which he attended 6^th grade. (To quickly review for newcomers: Catholic school, PK-1^st grade. Homeschool 2^nd-5^th grade. Different Catholic school 6^th grade. Homeschool 7^th grade. Reasons? Discussed in many places on this blog before but essentially: a smart kid who has been capable of so much more than the typical worksheet (and now Chromebook) routine of most schools, and a mom with the means and freedom to facilitate that. For the latest iteration, starting in 6^th grade? Sort of the same. A desire to go to school, but a disappointing experience. We’re confident, or at least very hopeful, that things have turned around, discipline issues have been resolved and holistic, undistracted learning is going to be the focus.)

I’m sitting here – relieved. For the moment, relieved to have the burden of anyone’s learning on my shoulders.

As I have written before, the discernment framework that helped me make the decision to homeschool a few years ago was this: Every choice entails some type of aggravation and stress. What aggravation do you choose?

It’s probably backwards from the process others employ, which undoubtedly focuses on the positive: What’s best? What’s going to bring the most happiness? What’s going to be the least stressful?

If that’s your angle, go for it. I’ve just found it to be more helpful and realistic to admit the reality of difficulty and challenges. Basically: every element of life involves some pain – which can you accept? Which kind of stress, pain and aggravation is going to stand in the way of growth less than other limitations?

So, in deciding to homeschool, I basically decided that the stress of guiding my kids’ learning and feeling more or less constantly inadequate to the task was more acceptable – at that moment – than being constantly enraged and frustrated about what was going on – or not going on – in the classroom.

So now, where are we? This wasn’t a problematic decision. High school has been fine, and just what that kid needed on a number of levels. He doesn’t need high-stress super accelerated learning. He needs mostly what he’s experienced. And there’s no reason to change that, not least because…it’s good to have someone else teach you calculus.

The eighth grader is ready to return to school for a year. (At this point, we are planning on road/homeschooling high school) He’s maintained friendships with the boys in the class (thanks, Fortnite!) and I do think the administration of this school is focused and realistic about what middle school kids need now in a way that wasn’t the case before. We’ll see. Between that and his music – three types of keyboard lessons (regular piano, jazz and pipe organ) – he’ll be busy.

And me?

I’m mostly sitting here kind of in shock. I’m already regretting some of the daytrips we’ve not been able to work in, even after years of me saying, this month, we’re going to…., I’m irritated that the senior English curriculum doesn’t seem to have a Shakespeare play in it (yet – I hope that will change), I’m looking at the clock wondering when to start worrying about the drive back from school, I’m waiting for the dryer to stop, waiting for Law School daughter to drop by, and mostly looking at a very, very, very blank page.

A first day, a last day, another day.

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New Orleans, Part Deux

 

Greetings from…back in Birmingham.

It was an excellent weekend, although shorter than originally planned.

The last workshop of the symposium was scheduled to run from 3:30-5 on Sunday. That was also the only Sunday workshop my son was really very interested in – it was on LIDAR technology, which has revolutionized Maya studies.

(National Geographic ran a breathless, irritatingly hype-y special on this a few weeks ago.)

But after attending four talks on Saturday – three right in a row – and gotten the zoo visit done, I discerned that perhaps….this was enough. A day long workshop on Friday and four academic presentations? For a thirteen-year old? I suggested that perhaps we could just…go home earlier on Sunday?

We talked it over. He was, indeed, interested in that workshop, but LIDAR had been discussed many times in the talks he’d attended, and considering how interested he is in the topic and how hot LIDAR is in the field…he’ll have a chance to engage with it again. The thought of getting home at 5 instead of 10 or later was certainly attractive to both of us.

Decision made…so that’s why I’m writing this from home Sunday night instead of..Monday morning.

But let’s backtrack.

First, our New Orleans hotel. Here’s Amy’s Travel Advice  Section:

I’ve stayed in New Orleans before, in various spots, and never paid what I consider an exorbitant amount. We’ve stayed in various chains in the city, and once at a Residence Inn near the airport. When I started looking for rooms this time, I got serious sticker shock. Nothing, nada even close to downtown for less than 350 a night. Even hotels in Metairie were more than I wanted to pay. Finally, I settled on a Holiday Inn and Suites across the river in Harvey, which was at least under $200.

(And why was this? I poked about and saw a couple of events – the Sun Belt Conference Championship tournament and a Bourbon Festival, but really? Would that be enough to drive prices up for the weekend? Spring breaks beginning? That certainly might be part of it. Well, then we were driving and walking around Sunday morning I saw, not one, but two big cruise ships in port – the Norwegian Pearl and Carnival Dream. That might just have been the tipping point – thousands of folks coming in early to get the party started before departing on Sunday. Maybe?)

Then about a week before the trip, I checked again – just to see. What I actually checked was the question, “Slidell as a base for New Orleans trip.”  Because hotels out there are of course much cheaper. The discussion I happened upon answered that initial question with a resounding NO DON’T DO IT, but buried in the various answers was the suggestion of a hotel – the Prytania Park Hotel – which, the person said, was reasonably priced and close in – just on the edge, between the Garden District and Downtown.

I checked the usual booking sites  – no vacancies listed for my dates. But then, just because I know that what is listed on the booking sites is their inventory that’s been released to them from a particular hotel – I went to the hotel’s website and checked. Vacancies! For a “junior suite” with two beds and on two levels.  For well under $200 a night. I emailed just to make sure, got a positive response, cancelled that Holiday Inn and booked this one directly with the hotel.

So there’s a lesson for you. Always check with the hotel (or airline, or whatever), even when it seems hopeless.

Isn’t it always the way, though. These innovative ways of doing life pop up – one place where you can check All The Prices! – but it never quite works out the way we think. In this particular case, the booking sites and hotels are vying for profits, with the hotels – especially independent hotels – in a real bind. They can’t survive if they’re not listed, but then those third party sites will take their cut. The hotels are helped by the review systems – to a point. They’re not helped if the third party sites don’t crack down on fraud and competitor sabotage and let unjustified poor reviews stand.

And so for us the consumer? How does it work out? There’s a certain level of convenience in these third party sites like Booking.com. It helps to get a broad survey of availability and an efficient way to look at room arrangements (particularly outside the US where there tends to be more variability), but be aware of two points:

First, what I’ve just described: the booking sites don’t have all of a hotel’s inventory available to them.

Secondly, if you end up having a problem after booking, resolution goes much more smoothly if you’ve booked with the hotel (or airline or car rental agency or tour agency) directly. Trying to get refunds and justice with the added layer of Orbitz or TripAdvisor or what have you is going to make things even more difficult than they already are.

Use them for research, sort of trust, and always verify.

Oh, and the Prytania Park Hotel? I liked it. It’s a bit shabby – it’s not a shiny chain hotel or a pristine boutique inn. But it was very clean and secure. Our room was, as advertised, a “junior suite” with two twin beds in a loft, and then a downstairs area with couch, chair, desk, desk chair, fridge, microwave, two sinks and bathroom area with tub and shower. And a balcony! The clientele seemed mixed, but mostly families and middle-aged to elderly folks. There was a breakfast, but it was clearly a step down from what you’d find in a Residence or Hampton Inn (i.e. frozen waffles instead of those you make yourself, no proteins, etc…).

There’s not a heap of street noise, although there was traffic outside – there must have a been a club nearby because Friday night, the bass was pretty consistent and loud until well after midnight – but strangely enough, it was much quieter on Saturday night.

Right across the street, there was an older fellow sitting outside on his front porch both mornings, reading. He resembled my father so strongly, it gave me a start: Same build, sitting exactly as my father would be reading in the morning if he were outside, legs crossed, with a hat like this on his head, holding and smoking his cigarette just so. I texted the photos to my older sons who both responded with many exclamation points and, in the case of one, the obvious conclusion that my father had faked his own death and escaped to live in seclusion in New Orleans….

And, here on a trip, with a longer one coming in a couple of weeks,  I thought of the conversation I had with him about this time nine years ago, when I told him, a little nervously, that I was going to take the crew to Sicily, of all places. Someplace completely different, somewhere just…away.  I couldn’t face the entire summer here. We had to leave town.  I braced myself, expecting an argument and an attempt to dissuade me. Sicily? But that’s not how it went, at all.

I think that’s great, he said without hesitating a second. It will do you all a lot of good. Go and have a wonderful time.

And so we went. And went. And went…and still go. We go, thanks, for a lot of different reasons – his encouragement, his financial legacy, his own regret at not traveling more earlier in life before it became physically challenging – to him.

 

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Maya in New Orleans

In New Orleans, studying Mayans. 

Today was a full day of glyph-chasing at the New Orleans Museum of Art.

And the 13-year old wasn’t even completely out of place today, since there was a high school group present for the morning session.

The workshop began with 2 hours of presentation on Mayan glyphs. Then in the

afternoon, the workshop leaders facilitated some large-group translation.

Turns out that you can’t rest on your laurels of knowing the Mayan number system and month glyphs when playing this game….

#humilityonaLentenFriday

During lunch, we walked around City Park a bit.

We’d been there before – a couple of years ago, both boys and I came down to New Orleans for a couple of days – recounted here – and one of our favorite things was renting bikes and riding through the park.

No bikes today, but we did see a sweet little turtle in the reeds…

and a snake….

…always a good day when you see a snake. Mayans and snakes in a single day? Choice!

What we later identified as apple snail eggs.

We wandered back inside and took in some art.

 

Here’s a Madonna and Child and Goldfinch painting. The goldfinch is often present with Madonna and Child because of its association with the Passion. The legend was that as Christ suffered with his crown of thorns, a goldfinch came and attempted to ease his suffering by plucking thorns from his brow – hence the touch of red in the bird’s plumage.

What interests me in this painting is that the goldfinch is not in the Child’s hands or even that nearby – it’s flying away.

(You probably can’t even see it – it’s on the upper left.)

I was also intrigued by this 17th century painting by one van Schreick. Called Serpents and Insects, the artist painted from his own collection of living creatures. It has a rather contemporary sensibility about it.

(My main memory of a former visit to the museum – two trips ago – was leaving my camera there. Somehow. And somehow, it was retrieved.)

The day ended with a close look at the some of the museum’s Mayan holdings, and then a not-very-penitential Lenten meal of a shrimp po-boy at the Parkway Bakery and Tavern. 

For more, and to keep up, check out Instagram

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See what I meant when I described this as a rather crazy learner-led unschooling activity?

To be honest, it’s not as if he himself did a search for “MesoAmerican history and archaeology conferences Near Me.” No, I did that part – last fall some time, not knowing until that search that Tulane has this well-established institute and a long-running conference, and that the theme of this year’s conference would be Mayan warfare (bonus points).

I presented it to him, we looked through the program and he agreed, that yes, he’d like to go.

My justification has (not surprisingly) several parts.

(Not that you are arguing with me, necessarily. Rather, I’m arguing with myself, as I always do.)

• Parents take their kids on multi-day soccer/volleyball/baseball/gymnastics trips. They accompany their kids on the traveling sports teams journeys. This is our version of that.
• He’s really, really interested in this stuff. This gives him exposure to the actual academic world of this discipline, and he can get a better grasp on whether or not this is something he actually wants to pursue as part of a career.
• He’s going back to school for the 8th grade year. We must do many, many homeschooly-things before this year ends! They must be spectacularly home-schooly!
• He probably won’t go to traditional high school. This is a trial run for that kind of life.

And now you’re thinking…what about you, Amy? What about your interests? 

Well, no I don’t have a deep interest in ancient Meso-American history. Here’s what I do have though:

• An interest in history in general. Actually, I have such a wide net of a brain that I can manage to find something of interest and a way to connect with almost any subject matter (within reason). And if I can’t find compelling points of interest in the subject, you know, there’s always people-watching which never fails.
• (And do remember that having a wide net of a brain means that the same brain that enjoys taking in a lot from every direction as it sweeps through the Ocean of Life also has …holes. Lots of them. As the Flannery O’Connor quote I have framed says: Total non-retention has kept my education from being a burden to me. 
• Even more than historical events and narrative, I’m intrigued by the fashioning of historical narrative and historiography. The Mayans are okay and all that, but what really interests me and what I have actually purchased books about of my own free will are accounts of the “rediscovery” of ancient MesoAmerican cultures, their structures and past. That whole journey of the decline of Mayan civilizations (intriguing in and of itself), the encroachment of the jungle and the the rediscoveries that began in the 19th century and continue today is just fascinating to me.
• That thread is reflected in this conference (at least from the abstracts…we’ll see), mostly because there are constant new discoveries and the accepted wisdom of the past is being continually reevaluated. Everything you thought was true was wrong is always  going to get my attention, and there’s a lot of that in this field.

And then on a more personal level, there’s: I’m 57. He’s 13. This is what I can give him now.

Yes, my eyes glazed over at certain points today and my attention wandered and  I checked the time but it’s no different than you waiting outside of softball practice or dance lessons or taking on that extra project that you’re not crazy about so you can pay their tuition. It’s what you do, it’s what you can give now, and so, trying to balance your interests and theirs, your resources and their dreams and the good of the family, you do what you do and pray it’s the right thing for everyone, and if you discern it’s too much, you put on the brakes, you say no,  and everyone learns another kind of lesson.

Who knows what I’ll be able to give him in 5 or 10 years? But here we are now, kid. Go for it. And sure, I’ll come along. Well, I guess I have to. I am the driver, after all. 

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The Lord’s Day

What a day!

Up at 6:30 am, over to 7 am Mass at one parish with my working-man-son, sent him off to work, dashed over to the Cathedral for a talk on sacred music from our wonderful Music Director, Bruce Ludwick, then back home to spend the entire rest of this rainy, chilly day..

BY MYSELF.

Yup. With one kid working and the other off to Atlanta on a friend’s birthday jaunt, I was..

BY MYSELF.

Did I mention that I was

BY MYSELF?

For an introvert homeschooling Mom, that’s about as good as it gets.

It can hardly get better.

 

Even if you don’t think that is so terribly odd, what comes next might give you pause. You might indeed think it strange  that the cherry on this cake was not Netflix binging or watching movies or even reading a good book – it was…work.

I GOT TO WORK ALL DAY!

(With apologies to the Lord’s Day.)

And I didn’t mind a bit. My work is not hard at this point, but it does take chunks of time. I’ve been managing to get ‘er done in in the early mornings (really only by letting my homeschooler sleep until about 9:30 each day, which he does not mind) and in the evenings. This has worked find for one major project, but another has suffered a bit. The first project will be wrapping up in the next couple of weeks, but the second is ongoing to the beginning of 2019, and I was really feeling the need to gather my resources on that one and get myself organized so that I can work on it more efficiently, perhaps in 30-minute/day chunks. Freeing me up to work on the long-promised, freakin’ Guatemala e-book – which I am determined – determined – to finish and get to you before our next trip, which is coming at the end of March.

So that’s what I did. I banged out work for Project #1 that’s due this week and next – finished, edited, dusted off and invoiced – and got myself deeply organized for Project #2.

It was fantastic. 

And now, with a few more minutes before our very own Publix Employee returns for the evening, some random Sunday night thoughts:

• My 13-year old and I attended one of the Alabama Symphony’s “Coffee Concerts” on Friday – this one featured Dvorak’s New World Symphony. I have to say, I am so impressed with this symphony and this conductor. Or, as they have branded themselves in typical friendly Southern fashion, “Your Alabama Symphony Orchestra!” The performance was vibrant, vivid and quite moving. Strong, delicate and urgent all at once, looking forward and backwards, east and west.
• It didn’t hurt that this time, instead of seating us with all the other hordes of schoolkids in the balcony, they put is in the Orchestra seating with all the other old people (and other homeschoolers).
• This is what we read in preparation, and we also watched a short video which I can’t locate at the moment – but know it was very helpful, especially in understanding the very last measures of the piece. Sorry.
• Saturday was music – a piano festival competition thing – basketball – last game of the regular season, playoffs start Tuesday – and serving – Confirmation retreat Mass at Casa Maria Convent, led by Fr. Augustine Wetta, OSB, who is the author of this new book, which I am hoping to read soon. My son really appreciated what Fr. Wetta had to say during his homily – which is one of the reasons I have them serve over there at the convent. Every time they do, they are privileged to hear excellent homilies from either one of the local friars or the retreat master for the weekend. Religion Class: Check.
• Over the past two weeks, homeschooling son has read Murder on the Orient Express as his “school” reading. (He’s reading the Dune trilogy as his leisure reading) It was his suggestion, and so we went with it, doing some background on the history of detective fiction and so on. After re-reading it, I’m thinking we could have done better – I probably should have had him read The Murder of Roger Ackroyd or And Then There Were None – but perhaps neither of those would have held up, either.
• I haven’t read Christie in decades. As a teenager, mysteries were my gateways into adult fiction, my favorites being Christie, Ellery Queen and Rex Stout – the last being my absolute favorite. So I don’t think I’d read her in probably 40 years (so weird to think in that kind of time span when speaking of my own life), and no, I wasn’t impressed. She wasn’t a stylist, that’s for sure, and this book, in particular, plods along (Murder. Interview many people. Cogitate. Announce.) and the climax and denouement are, in my mind rather shocking (spoiler alert!) – as the murder is, we are led to infer, excusable since the murderers act as jury to do what institutional law enforcement did not.
• We’re read a lot of books, stories and poems this year – this one will be last on the quality list. I’m not completely sorry we read it: we did some geography and history inspired by it and it’s good to read books of which you can be critical – so there’s that. Plus issues of justice and law, of course.
• The 1974 film version was one of the last movies I remember seeing with my parents in the theater (along with Young Frankenstein and Being There – with, respectively, those super fun “Ah, Sweet Mystery of Life” and “I like to watch” scenes putting an end to that activity and any future potential awkwardness). We watched the trailer for that and last year’s version, both of which left my son saying, “Uh, I don’t think I want to watch either of those….”
• What’s going on with school? We are indeed finishing up homeschooling 7^th grade and finishing the 11^th grade in a Catholic high school. Next year, everyone will be in school – 8^th grade in a local Catholic school (because they do a very nice 8th grade year in this particular school and he has friends there…) and senior year in the same high school. And then….well who knows? Actually we do have a sense: the older one will go to college and the younger one and I will set out – God and good health and the stock market willing – on roadschooling/roamschooling/unschooling way of life for a while. We’ll keep the Birmingham homebase for a time, but will hopefully be able to see a good chunk of the world in between stints back here. But that’s more than a year away, and who knows what can happen between now and then? That “plan” is one more reason for him to return to school for a year – we can both have a breather, I can get some ducks in a row without having to think about teaching Algebra, and then…here we go….
• Oh, I’m in Living Faith today – here’s the devotional. And if you missed it, I was also in another day last week – here it is.

 

 

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Let me Learn

It all started here:

Well, not really. It started decades ago, of course, because everything does. Start long before you know it does.

But that afternoon, that Sunday afternoon at the Magic City Art Connection, thoughts, feelings, intuitions and convictions came together, and I understood some truth.  I’d sort of made the decision a couple of months before, but at that moment, I really saw why.

So yes, we – the boys and I – are embarking on a homeschool/roamschool/unschooling experiment.  I don’t know how long it will last.  I’ve told their school we might be back in January, but we might not.  We will definitely have to see how it goes, but even now, the older one is saying, “I think when we get back, I’ll want to keep homeschooling.”  I always tell him: You might want to wait on that.  We both all be racing towards the school at that point. 

I’m going to talk about this during the week and try to avoid a big mega-post, as I am always tempted to do.

So I’ll start with some very Convenient Bullet Points:

• This is not about a deep dissatisfaction with their particular (Catholic) school.  For the most part, I’m happy with their school, and so are they. I’m grateful for it and the people involved.  It’s a solid Catholic school in a good parish, and both of them had good years (1st and 5th grades).
• This is fundamentally about a dissatisfaction with school.  
• Montessori has always been on my radar, but never a possibility, mostly because I really believe that the education of grammar school children should be grounded in the everyday practice of the Faith.  A Catholic Montessori might be ideal – and they do exist – but just never where I’ve happened to live.
• I have resisted this for a long time, in my own spirit.  My arguments against it are not all selfish, either.  We are not a big family in a busy neighborhood bursting with children. It is me and the boys, and I am anything but cavalier about that.  I have always – always  – welcomed the presence of helpful, loving, authoritative, truth-telling teachers in my children’s lives, and they have each had their share of inspiring ones.  They need to know this is not just me speaking.  Even with other activities, which, as long as we are in town they will do – they do Scouts, they do sports, and as long as we are in one place we’ll hook up with other homeschoolers – yet, even with that, I’m acutely aware of the possible wear and tear on our family dynamic – on all sides.
• That said, the dissatisfaction with school won’t go away.  On many levels, which I’ll go into tomorrow, perhaps.
• There is a spiritual dimension to this.  I have been feeling nudges from a million directions, but have resisted the sacrifice.  But I am sensing that at least for now, I am supposed to say yes to it.  I have the time, the resources, and the freedom.  I see gaps, I see the potential for flourishing, and – with sacrifice and grace – the gaps can be filled and deeper flourishing can be encouraged at home.
• They’re good with it.  They’re not unwilling or fighting it at all.
• I am leaning towards a roamschool(because we will be traveling) model.  Like Julia, I have certain areas which I a stickler for, which I think are building blocks, and which will be constants – a few of which I think are being neglected in the present situation, grammar being an important one.   We will do curricula in math, spelling, grammar and probably Latin.  So it’s probably stretching to call it unschooling. Yeah. I think I just want that as a cover for my disorganization.  Oh, we’re unschooling, you know…
•  I am trying mightily to avoid reading homeschooling blogs – it is just too overwhelming and, like reading mommyblogs in general, deeply demoralizing.  But in trying to figure out resources and materials, it’s hard to avoid them.

So that picture?

We went this downtown art festival last month.  And waaaay in the back, behind all the booths, was this area set up for kids.  As you can see, it was a mess – stocked with all kinds of big tubes and what seemed like insulation and ties and chicken wire.

I watched the children – not just mine, but all the children who drifted that way.  They would spy this glorious mess, and they would run to it, and then they started building.   Sometimes forming teams without even discussing it, sometimes working alone.  There was no hesitation – every child who saw this array – this possibility  – ran to it, plunged into it, and started figuring things out. It was play, but it was quite purposeful and as you watched them, you could actually see them all, in their groups and on their own, thinking things through. 

What happens to that? 

A couple of weeks ago I was telling this story and describing my thought processes to someone who I didn’t expect to oppose me, but nor did I expect him to be sympathetic.  He surprised me.  He was completely sympathetic and revealed that he and his wife are seriously considering homeschooling as well, simply because they are frustrated by and weary of the inefficiencies of the schooling their children are enduring, as well as the extreme orientation to standardized testing.

To be continued….

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