A long time ago I read an interesting study that kids can read (comprehend as in "reading comprehension") on a higher level if they are interested in the topic. Meaning if you have a story on the child's ostensible "reading level" you think that it is pretty objective. How complicated are the sentences, how many unfamiliar words do they have to get from context, etc.
But they found that let's say, a kid who can't read his 3rd grade reader can actually hack his way through something much more advanced if it's about airplanes and he loves airplanes.
This fascinated me because there isn't a direct correlation to "reading ablility." It has to do with motivation. Motivation actually makes the brain work differently. And better.
In a sense, unschooling follows this path and kids read what they want and never think about "reading ability" and "reading level." They try to read what they are interested in, and ask someone to read it to them if they have difficulty.
As I've spoken about, one of my kids has a learning disability where they have to read things up to seven times in order to comprehend it. And tends to gravitate towards gaining information in ways other than reading as a result.
But I just realized I didn't think twice about sending this neuropsychological analysis of aphantasia:
"Their self-reported selective inability to vividly recollect personally experienced events from a first-person perspective was corroborated by absence of functional magnetic resonance imaging (fMRI) and event-related potential (ERP) biomarkers associated with naturalistic and laboratory episodic recollection, as well as by behavioral evidence of impaired episodic retrieval, particularly for visual information. Yet learning and memory were otherwise intact, as long as these tasks could be accomplished by non-episodic processes. Thus these individuals function normally in day-to-day life, even though their past is experienced in the absence of recollection."
Because I knew she'd be interested and be able to understand it.
Monday, December 30, 2019
Tuesday, December 10, 2019
The Eternal Sunshine of the Non Spotless Basement
That's right, folks.
This is the AFTER picture. Just imagine that stuff all over the floor so you can't walk (except for my path, to the right of the duct tape, which has been kept largely clear). This was cleaned only because we have Shabbos guests coming.
They tell me they love scavenging for pieces of cardboard and wood and cloth to make all sorts of creations.
This is the AFTER picture. Just imagine that stuff all over the floor so you can't walk (except for my path, to the right of the duct tape, which has been kept largely clear). This was cleaned only because we have Shabbos guests coming.
They tell me they love scavenging for pieces of cardboard and wood and cloth to make all sorts of creations.
Monday, December 2, 2019
Why I love learning with my kids
Today we learned the bracha of Teshuva (2nd request in Shemona Esrei). I asked E:
When we ask H' for something, is it something we can control or H' can control?
He said: It depends.
I said: Teshuva. Who is in control of that? Us or Him?
E: Us.
Me: So what are we asking for?
E:...
E: He could put the thought into our head...
Me: Is that what we are asking for? Mind control?
E: No, I wouldn't want that
Me: It's a riddle. Go forth and think
When we ask H' for something, is it something we can control or H' can control?
He said: It depends.
I said: Teshuva. Who is in control of that? Us or Him?
E: Us.
Me: So what are we asking for?
E:...
E: He could put the thought into our head...
Me: Is that what we are asking for? Mind control?
E: No, I wouldn't want that
Me: It's a riddle. Go forth and think
Friday, November 29, 2019
#goals
I've been davening about Elazar's chinuch and one thing is becoming clear to me. When my fears and hopes are clarified via my prayers, I'm not hoping for things to get done on a deadline (ie bar mitzva). I do want to learn his parsha with him. It has a lot of topics. Long topics. Tough topics. And it's hard for him to sit.
But when I daven that I hope my learning with Elazar will be good, what ends up is that I hope he will love Torah. That he will find it exciting. Enlightening. Guiding.
NOT that he will finish a certain amount by bar mitzva.
I've paused in learning his parsha with him and have been studying Shemona Esrei with him, since his chiyuv to daven will kick in at age 13. I think davening is going to be very difficult for him, and the thought of him mumbling words or even reading English without really understanding it seems pointless and agonizing for any kid, but strikes me as especially pointless and agonizing to someone of E's nature. In theory he is amiable and willing to study and understand Shemona Esrei. In practice, it is difficult for him to focus for more than 5 minutes, as it always has been.
However, our five minutes of study time are something I am treasuring. I always feel this way when I learn Torah with my children. I love seeing how they think about things, how they approach the text, the questions they ask, the connections they make. This morning we reviewed the main points of the first 3 brachos, noted they were "praise" and then next section is "requests" and did the first request. I asked him what he would have designed the first request to be. He said knowledge (which it is). I said, "Don't you think it would have been something like food?"
"Oh, yeah," he said.
"So why do you think the Rabbis made it knowledge, understanding, and wisdom?" I asked.
And we had a nice little conversation about that.
But when I daven that I hope my learning with Elazar will be good, what ends up is that I hope he will love Torah. That he will find it exciting. Enlightening. Guiding.
NOT that he will finish a certain amount by bar mitzva.
I've paused in learning his parsha with him and have been studying Shemona Esrei with him, since his chiyuv to daven will kick in at age 13. I think davening is going to be very difficult for him, and the thought of him mumbling words or even reading English without really understanding it seems pointless and agonizing for any kid, but strikes me as especially pointless and agonizing to someone of E's nature. In theory he is amiable and willing to study and understand Shemona Esrei. In practice, it is difficult for him to focus for more than 5 minutes, as it always has been.
However, our five minutes of study time are something I am treasuring. I always feel this way when I learn Torah with my children. I love seeing how they think about things, how they approach the text, the questions they ask, the connections they make. This morning we reviewed the main points of the first 3 brachos, noted they were "praise" and then next section is "requests" and did the first request. I asked him what he would have designed the first request to be. He said knowledge (which it is). I said, "Don't you think it would have been something like food?"
"Oh, yeah," he said.
"So why do you think the Rabbis made it knowledge, understanding, and wisdom?" I asked.
And we had a nice little conversation about that.
Labels:
adhd,
bar mitzva,
educational goals,
schedule,
tefila
Sunday, October 27, 2019
The following is my probably inaccurate memory summarizing our conversation
This morning we had a little parent teacher conference about some aspects of bar mitzva readiness. Ari was considering buying siddurim for each kid. Notwithstanding that we already have 2 children's siddurs on the shelf (and boy #3 is often still asleep when I do tefila in the morning) that the boys already don't use, I didn't think it was a good idea to have the kids follow along while I daven.
Right now, I daven out loud. They play video games and sing along when they feel like it. I feel that having them follow along (or I even considered Elazar just standing next to me for shemona esrei and me being motzi him that way) would be excruciatingly boring for them and not confer any actual benefit. I suggested that during Avos U'Banim, when Ari has the kids for learning, he work on reading Shema, Shemona Esrei, bentching and other brachos achronos. (And Asher Yatzer, which I forgot to mention.)
The question is, will E be able to daven 3x a day with a minyan and a full davening? If not, what is the bare halachic minimum? Ari asked what about birchas Kriyas Shema. I am singing them out loud to Elazar every day. (Not maariv, but shacharis.) So he is becoming familiar with them. I don't know that making him sit with an open siddur would help, and it can definitely pain him and make him miserable. And if, at bar mitzva age, E finds he cannot focus on the whole thing and have kavana, and he hates it, then what do we recommend for him? Just Shema and Shemona Esrei 2x a day. Mincha just Shemona Esrei. Bare minimum halachic requirements.
Ari wants to make sure that E can count at a minyan. To that end, he will need to know how to respond (amens, kedusha, kaddish, etc). I suggested Ari go through that with him. Is it better to do that at the minyan or outside the minyan? (As I don't know, I leave that to Ari's discretion.)
Ari also felt that he had pushed E too much during Avos U'Banim. I told him that I had discovered from my learning with E that he enjoys learning trope outside the context of reading and translating. And he enjoys translating when he doesn't have to read (meaning you read the word to him and he translates) and he enjoys understanding the pesukim when you tell him the general translation but it loses enjoyment for him when he has to sit and decode a lot. He'd rather each word or phrase in the pasuk be read to him, ask him what the words mean and have him answer/guess, then tell him generally as a whole what the pasuk means.
I said that I think that not pushing reading and translating makes sense. Because he enjoys other aspects of learning Torah.
Right now, I daven out loud. They play video games and sing along when they feel like it. I feel that having them follow along (or I even considered Elazar just standing next to me for shemona esrei and me being motzi him that way) would be excruciatingly boring for them and not confer any actual benefit. I suggested that during Avos U'Banim, when Ari has the kids for learning, he work on reading Shema, Shemona Esrei, bentching and other brachos achronos. (And Asher Yatzer, which I forgot to mention.)
The question is, will E be able to daven 3x a day with a minyan and a full davening? If not, what is the bare halachic minimum? Ari asked what about birchas Kriyas Shema. I am singing them out loud to Elazar every day. (Not maariv, but shacharis.) So he is becoming familiar with them. I don't know that making him sit with an open siddur would help, and it can definitely pain him and make him miserable. And if, at bar mitzva age, E finds he cannot focus on the whole thing and have kavana, and he hates it, then what do we recommend for him? Just Shema and Shemona Esrei 2x a day. Mincha just Shemona Esrei. Bare minimum halachic requirements.
Ari wants to make sure that E can count at a minyan. To that end, he will need to know how to respond (amens, kedusha, kaddish, etc). I suggested Ari go through that with him. Is it better to do that at the minyan or outside the minyan? (As I don't know, I leave that to Ari's discretion.)
Ari also felt that he had pushed E too much during Avos U'Banim. I told him that I had discovered from my learning with E that he enjoys learning trope outside the context of reading and translating. And he enjoys translating when he doesn't have to read (meaning you read the word to him and he translates) and he enjoys understanding the pesukim when you tell him the general translation but it loses enjoyment for him when he has to sit and decode a lot. He'd rather each word or phrase in the pasuk be read to him, ask him what the words mean and have him answer/guess, then tell him generally as a whole what the pasuk means.
I said that I think that not pushing reading and translating makes sense. Because he enjoys other aspects of learning Torah.
- If you read it to him, he likes translating some of the words if he knows them
- If you sing him the trope, he likes learning and repeating the trope
- If you tell him what the pasuk means, he enjoys thinking about it
He does NOT like reading. He does not like going slowly and translating it. Will having him do that increase the likelihood that he will learn Torah in the future?
Will having him read and decode increase his future ability to learn Torah because he will have the skills?
These are important questions. (Wish I knew the answers!) It seems to me that focusing on the parts he enjoys and not pushing the parts that pain him will keep his learning positive and enjoyable. This will increase the probability that he will learn Torah as an adult.
But what about his lacking skills? Either he will be motivated to gain skills, or he will learn using translations. My sense is that pushing the skills will more likely end up (in E's particular case) with him avoiding future Torah learning.
I said to Ari that I think focusing on the 3 types of learning that he enjoys above and avoiding what he dislikes will make him more likely to learn Torah by himself at age 25. Ari said, "Really?"
It's kind of scary to not do the "classic" educational stuff. Will we be providing him with the education necessary to be a ben Torah?
On the other hand, traditional education would be a disaster for this particular child. We are already out of the box. It's a tough line to figure out what is "pushing too hard" and what is "avoiding our responsibility to make sure he is capable of fulfilling his responsibilities." What is he capable of and what is he truly not capable of? What will foster a joy and love of Torah and what will push him away? What can he really handle and what is a good idea for him to handle?
With so many kids who have gone through the school system being disinterested, not halachically observant, not having a strong emotional and spiritual relationship to Torah, and lacking skills, at least I feel I can't do worse than that with alternative education. That's not a very high bar, though.
Labels:
adhd,
bar mitzva,
chinuch,
davening,
discipline,
drilling,
educational goals,
long term goals,
minyan,
reading,
skills,
tefila
Monday, September 23, 2019
learning E's bar mitzva parsha
We've been doing ok on the birchas haftorah. We found a video and sing along to it and E's been learning it.
I've had a hard time sitting down with him to learn the parsha. Not leining; Ari's doing that with him. It's hard to find time to sit and learn with him. I guess I'm settling in to the new school year at work and the yom tovim are coming up.
I realized also I'm having a hard time focusing. What are our learning goals?
Today I had a conversation with Elazar. I said that learning his parsha involves 4 skills:
1) leining/trope
2) reading
3) translating
4) understanding
I asked him which skills he is interested in working on and which skills he wants to pursue. He said that the reading part is the hardest for him. But he also felt that the reading would be important to have by his bar mitzva. He figured he'll be working on reading with his father at avos u'banim, so he'd prefer not to do that with me.
He said he likes figuring out what the words mean if I read him the words. So he doesn't mine trying to translate it and having me help him. He thinks that's fun. (And he generously added that when I read it to him, I could read it with the trope.)
So that's the plan. I read it to him, and together we'll translate. And then try to understand the pasuk. We'll see how that goes.
I've had a hard time sitting down with him to learn the parsha. Not leining; Ari's doing that with him. It's hard to find time to sit and learn with him. I guess I'm settling in to the new school year at work and the yom tovim are coming up.
I realized also I'm having a hard time focusing. What are our learning goals?
Today I had a conversation with Elazar. I said that learning his parsha involves 4 skills:
1) leining/trope
2) reading
3) translating
4) understanding
I asked him which skills he is interested in working on and which skills he wants to pursue. He said that the reading part is the hardest for him. But he also felt that the reading would be important to have by his bar mitzva. He figured he'll be working on reading with his father at avos u'banim, so he'd prefer not to do that with me.
He said he likes figuring out what the words mean if I read him the words. So he doesn't mine trying to translate it and having me help him. He thinks that's fun. (And he generously added that when I read it to him, I could read it with the trope.)
So that's the plan. I read it to him, and together we'll translate. And then try to understand the pasuk. We'll see how that goes.
Monday, September 16, 2019
Loving What Is: Upon Thinking Fish Should Be Taught to Fly
It's a blessing that somehow, I consider Chen's rebellious nature to be a blessing. We've had so many talks about why there needs to be rebels in society, how it's useful evolutionarily for groups to have rebels, how rebels help change things that need to be changed.
It's a blessing that I came across Susan Cain's book Quiet and learned that Jack's cautiousness and hesitation and need to be very comfortable and secure before he can relax is not something that needs to be "fixed."
This past year Chen tested all the kids to find their love language and it turns out Jack's is gifts. This has radically altered my attitude. Practically, I am trying to make sure to give him small gifts every day--little drawings, shells I've picked up on the beach. And I noticed he either makes special food for himself with friends--sushi, bakes, french fries--or he asks to be taken out to buy a slurpee if he doesn't get a gift that day. I also noticed that he is extremely focused on tracking when his packages are coming.
The important thing to note about the gift love language is that it's often mistaken for an inappropriate or unhealthy focus on materialism. I've found it helpful to think of it as a small gift is important every single day just as a kid whose love language is touch needs a hug every single day (or even numerous times a day). If he doesn't get a small gift, he doesn't feel loved. This affects his mood, his sense of things being right with the world, his equilibrium.
You can see me wrestling with this and not realizing what is happening here and here. I'm not saying that I handled those situations badly per se, but look at them through the lens of gifts being his love language. There is a whole layer of understanding missing that part of what is paining Jack so badly is that his cup was not filled, and he was "itchy" (so to speak) from the feeling of needing love (via gift). Once you see that, you can see his mood and his reactions in a different context.
And that's a context I'm totally missing at that point.
What does it lead to? Less compassion, less understanding, less creative problem solving, less giving him the small physical gift he needs to feel loved.
I also was mistakenly looking at it through the lens of middos improvement, as if his desire for material things is a character flaw. It's a nature and it's a way he feels loved. This is something I'd like to help him be aware of and help him learn to satisfy in a way that is not overly expensive. It's not something to fix.
I'm in the middle of a similar revolution of understanding regarding Aharon. I'll make that its own post.
It's a blessing that I came across Susan Cain's book Quiet and learned that Jack's cautiousness and hesitation and need to be very comfortable and secure before he can relax is not something that needs to be "fixed."
This past year Chen tested all the kids to find their love language and it turns out Jack's is gifts. This has radically altered my attitude. Practically, I am trying to make sure to give him small gifts every day--little drawings, shells I've picked up on the beach. And I noticed he either makes special food for himself with friends--sushi, bakes, french fries--or he asks to be taken out to buy a slurpee if he doesn't get a gift that day. I also noticed that he is extremely focused on tracking when his packages are coming.
The important thing to note about the gift love language is that it's often mistaken for an inappropriate or unhealthy focus on materialism. I've found it helpful to think of it as a small gift is important every single day just as a kid whose love language is touch needs a hug every single day (or even numerous times a day). If he doesn't get a small gift, he doesn't feel loved. This affects his mood, his sense of things being right with the world, his equilibrium.
You can see me wrestling with this and not realizing what is happening here and here. I'm not saying that I handled those situations badly per se, but look at them through the lens of gifts being his love language. There is a whole layer of understanding missing that part of what is paining Jack so badly is that his cup was not filled, and he was "itchy" (so to speak) from the feeling of needing love (via gift). Once you see that, you can see his mood and his reactions in a different context.
And that's a context I'm totally missing at that point.
What does it lead to? Less compassion, less understanding, less creative problem solving, less giving him the small physical gift he needs to feel loved.
I also was mistakenly looking at it through the lens of middos improvement, as if his desire for material things is a character flaw. It's a nature and it's a way he feels loved. This is something I'd like to help him be aware of and help him learn to satisfy in a way that is not overly expensive. It's not something to fix.
I'm in the middle of a similar revolution of understanding regarding Aharon. I'll make that its own post.
Labels:
conceptual development,
educational goals,
middos,
parenting,
patience
Thursday, September 12, 2019
One of the things that makes Unschooling so Radical
Something that comes up when people worry about unschooling is: What if the kid grows up and feels that the parent has abdicated responsibility for educating them and the parent should have done a better job and forced them?
I've tried to explain that when unschoolers want to know something and feel like they need it, they simply pursue it. Ask for help if they need. (For example, when Chen took a college course and realized she didn't know exactly how to write an essay, she asked me to run through it with her and I told her about introductions, stating points, backing them up, and conclusions, and she began writing essays.) Today I read something by Caren Knox and it gave insight as to why this is and how it works and it absolutely resonated with my experience (bolding is mine):
Someone said that they find watching their children feeling bad about failing painful. She responded:
One thing I’ve noticed in most long-time unschoolers I’ve known is that they inherently understand that they’re learning all the time, and that they experience not reaching goals or not quite getting something, not as personal failure or a shortcoming, but as one step in learning. I doubt they’d even be able to express that, unless they’re particularly self-reflective; for them, taking “failure” personally isn’t part of their experience of life. (This, of course, also depends on the personality of the child. What I’m saying is what I’ve noticed, generally speaking.)
They’re able to assess what happened without self-recrimination. “Oh, I didn’t know xyz was part of this thing I’m trying. Now I know, so this time I’ll add in xyz and maybe it’ll work now.” “Jeez, I am not so great at organizing this thing. I’ll ask Banu how they did it for the thing they did.” [<——- Very doubtful any unschooler has said anything like this out loud. This is my clumsy attempt at portraying the inner, perhaps even unnoticed by them, thoughts of an unschooler facing something not working as they planned or imagined.]
In school, something not working means FAILURE. You had one chance, and you screwed up, so that’s it. You get an F or a C or some other measurement that means you did not get this thing, and you will not get this thing, because this is the only time in the curriculum this is done. And people seem to think that means something about you personally. “You’re bad at math.” “You’ll never be an engineer.” “You’re slow.” “You’re a bad student.” “You are falling behind.” “You have a disability.”
Unschoolers have experienced life differently. There is plenty of time to do what they’re trying, so not getting it the first time means they can assess and try again, learning each time. (They might learn they don’t want to do that thing as much as they thought they did.) If they see they’re not skilled in a certain area, it doesn’t mean that *they* are failures; they can choose to learn about that, or ask for help, or outsource, or all of those.
Most always-radically unschooled kids or long-time radical unschoolers are comfortable with the process of learning, which often involves failure.
It’s like a lot of video games. You move your character through obstacles, and if you fail, there’s another life right there for you to take what you learned (“Whoa, a Goomba comes at me there”) and make different choices (“I’ll kick this Koopa shell first, then go”). There’s no real-life failure or death, and there are infinite opportunities for you to start over (or from a save point) and take another go at it.
I've tried to explain that when unschoolers want to know something and feel like they need it, they simply pursue it. Ask for help if they need. (For example, when Chen took a college course and realized she didn't know exactly how to write an essay, she asked me to run through it with her and I told her about introductions, stating points, backing them up, and conclusions, and she began writing essays.) Today I read something by Caren Knox and it gave insight as to why this is and how it works and it absolutely resonated with my experience (bolding is mine):
Someone said that they find watching their children feeling bad about failing painful. She responded:
One thing I’ve noticed in most long-time unschoolers I’ve known is that they inherently understand that they’re learning all the time, and that they experience not reaching goals or not quite getting something, not as personal failure or a shortcoming, but as one step in learning. I doubt they’d even be able to express that, unless they’re particularly self-reflective; for them, taking “failure” personally isn’t part of their experience of life. (This, of course, also depends on the personality of the child. What I’m saying is what I’ve noticed, generally speaking.)
They’re able to assess what happened without self-recrimination. “Oh, I didn’t know xyz was part of this thing I’m trying. Now I know, so this time I’ll add in xyz and maybe it’ll work now.” “Jeez, I am not so great at organizing this thing. I’ll ask Banu how they did it for the thing they did.” [<——- Very doubtful any unschooler has said anything like this out loud. This is my clumsy attempt at portraying the inner, perhaps even unnoticed by them, thoughts of an unschooler facing something not working as they planned or imagined.]
In school, something not working means FAILURE. You had one chance, and you screwed up, so that’s it. You get an F or a C or some other measurement that means you did not get this thing, and you will not get this thing, because this is the only time in the curriculum this is done. And people seem to think that means something about you personally. “You’re bad at math.” “You’ll never be an engineer.” “You’re slow.” “You’re a bad student.” “You are falling behind.” “You have a disability.”
Unschoolers have experienced life differently. There is plenty of time to do what they’re trying, so not getting it the first time means they can assess and try again, learning each time. (They might learn they don’t want to do that thing as much as they thought they did.) If they see they’re not skilled in a certain area, it doesn’t mean that *they* are failures; they can choose to learn about that, or ask for help, or outsource, or all of those.
Most always-radically unschooled kids or long-time radical unschoolers are comfortable with the process of learning, which often involves failure.
It’s like a lot of video games. You move your character through obstacles, and if you fail, there’s another life right there for you to take what you learned (“Whoa, a Goomba comes at me there”) and make different choices (“I’ll kick this Koopa shell first, then go”). There’s no real-life failure or death, and there are infinite opportunities for you to start over (or from a save point) and take another go at it.
Tuesday, August 27, 2019
No Vacation in Unschooling
Every once in a while, I realize that unschooling has made me see things really differently than most of society. It crept upon me so gradually, I don't realize it until I end up hearing things that seem jarring.
People ask me how my summer is going. They ask when we are starting school. I say, No, we go year round. No difference between summer and the rest of the year. They commiserate with my poor kids. This feels strange to me.
Jack asked me to sit in the back seat with him when we were driving home from my parents so that we can learn a perek of Chumash together. He doesn't feel like learning is something he needs a break from. When he wants to learn it, he asks me. He doesn't feel like he's on "vacation" from learning or needs a break. Learning is part of life.
In the middle of learning Chumash, Aharon interrupts us to ask for division problems. Ari is giving Elazar math problems from the front seat.
The pediatrician and Chen were discussing her medication for college. He said she should wait until she gets her schedule, then give him a call so they can discuss dosage and strategy. I said, "But what is she supposed to do for the next two weeks?" He said, "What are you talking about? College doesn't start for two more weeks." I said, "But she's been learning calculus most days. She needs some pills so she can do math." He doesn't understand. She graduated high school. She's not in school yet. Why is she learning Calc now? For fun.
Who learns complicated math for fun during the summer? The doctor is baffled.
The pediatrician also asks her what classes she is interested in for college. "Chemistry," Chen says. "Science major?" the doctor asks. Chen shrugs. "No, I just want to learn it." Pediatrician frowns. "Why would you take a hard science if you don't need it for your major?" "It seems interesting," Chen says. For many people, college is about finishing on time, requirements, a major. For Chen it is about learning what her heart calls her to learn.
"Can you send me that perek where Moshe tells Hashem he gave birth to the Jews and nursed them like a baby?" Chen asks. "I want to send the source to my friend."
"When can we do the blood type kit?" Jack begs me. I bought it a couple of weeks ago but planned to wait until September. He keeps asking me.
I'm highlighting the "educational" stuff. They don't distinguish between "educational" and "interesting" and "fun." It's all the same to them. I forget, until I see other people's attitudes, that there is a distinction in most people's lives.
People ask me how my summer is going. They ask when we are starting school. I say, No, we go year round. No difference between summer and the rest of the year. They commiserate with my poor kids. This feels strange to me.
Jack asked me to sit in the back seat with him when we were driving home from my parents so that we can learn a perek of Chumash together. He doesn't feel like learning is something he needs a break from. When he wants to learn it, he asks me. He doesn't feel like he's on "vacation" from learning or needs a break. Learning is part of life.
In the middle of learning Chumash, Aharon interrupts us to ask for division problems. Ari is giving Elazar math problems from the front seat.
The pediatrician and Chen were discussing her medication for college. He said she should wait until she gets her schedule, then give him a call so they can discuss dosage and strategy. I said, "But what is she supposed to do for the next two weeks?" He said, "What are you talking about? College doesn't start for two more weeks." I said, "But she's been learning calculus most days. She needs some pills so she can do math." He doesn't understand. She graduated high school. She's not in school yet. Why is she learning Calc now? For fun.
Who learns complicated math for fun during the summer? The doctor is baffled.
The pediatrician also asks her what classes she is interested in for college. "Chemistry," Chen says. "Science major?" the doctor asks. Chen shrugs. "No, I just want to learn it." Pediatrician frowns. "Why would you take a hard science if you don't need it for your major?" "It seems interesting," Chen says. For many people, college is about finishing on time, requirements, a major. For Chen it is about learning what her heart calls her to learn.
"Can you send me that perek where Moshe tells Hashem he gave birth to the Jews and nursed them like a baby?" Chen asks. "I want to send the source to my friend."
"When can we do the blood type kit?" Jack begs me. I bought it a couple of weeks ago but planned to wait until September. He keeps asking me.
I'm highlighting the "educational" stuff. They don't distinguish between "educational" and "interesting" and "fun." It's all the same to them. I forget, until I see other people's attitudes, that there is a distinction in most people's lives.
Labels:
adhd,
curriculum,
motivation,
science,
unschooling
Thursday, August 15, 2019
college
I'm a member of an unschooling group, and they were discussing what makes someone an experienced unschooler. Among disqualifications:
- your kids are young
- you unschool "except" a subject
- valuing one type of learning over another
And then the line that hit me between the eyes: If you are not worried about what your 18 year old will do with their life, you are experienced.
Ha! That's right where I am right now. (Except I am worried, and I'm not experienced.)
So I've been "deschooling," which means working to get out of the schooly mindset.
Among the schooly mindset:
- college is vital to get a good job in life
- college must be done at age 18 (or after the year in israel/gap year)
- college must be done full time
Chen has a confluence of personality quirks and learning disabilities (or neurodivergences, as makes more sense to me) which led us to unschooling.
She's been saying that she wants to take a gap year before college. Why? Because she doesn't learn well via lecture, or reading, or auditory listening. She learns best as an autodidact plus someone to ask one on one questions to. That is not college. And she'd like a year off to...drumroll, please... learn what she wants to learn.
Yes, ladies and gentleman. An unschooled child would like to take a year off to learn.
She's spent the summer learning. Math, science, art, business, who knows what else. We went to the doctor to get a refill of her ADHD meds, and he said to come back when she knows her fall schedule so they can work out the dosage. We said but wait, she's almost out of pills and what about the next two weeks of summer. She's been studying for two to three hours a few times a week.
He couldn't even comprehend that someone would be studying for no reason. Not for college, not for high school requirements, just to learn. (This is the same doctor who for years quizzed my children on things they did not know--math, history, etc.).
I always used to say that homeschoolers (kal v'chomer unschoolers) tend to play more when they are young and get more serious about studies when they are older.
Now I would say that playing is a form of learning. And it often isn't until 11th and 12th grade (or even beyond) when they start learning the way society recognizes learning. But they are always learning.
So I've been trying to settle down and mentally give Chen the space to take the next four years to continue her studies as she wishes. Don't go to college? Okay. Take only one class? Okay.
I've been sitting with this for about four months and I'm a lot calmer now (though surely there is more to deschool) and it almost becomes difficult to understand why I was pressuring her. Why, when she has always been very on point about recognizing her abilities and what was too much for her, would I not trust her now? Why, when she has researched and found options and taught herself and requested testing and requested medication and found resources and asked for her needs, would I doubt her abilities and assessments at this point?
So I backed off and supported her. If she wants to defer, let her defer. I began to view college as an opportunity for her to explore interesting things. They have a new program this year--QCin4: to help students stay on track so they graduate in four years.
I applaud this program for neurotypical students and I'm glad the school is helping college students stay on track to graduate. But that route is not for Chen. Maybe in the future, if she wants it. But right now, college has many wonderful classes and opportunities. It's a chance to explore a range of subjects. There are athletics, art and drawing (there is a class on writing and drawing manga!), writing, business, math, science. History, anthropology. Once I relaxed, I began to see how many interesting things there are in the framework of unschooling, as opposed to trying to get a degree.
I was curious to see what Chen would decide to do. Once I got out of my own way and stopped worrying about her choices, I became much more relaxed. Would she defer? Maybe. Would she take Bio? Chem? Calculus? How would it be in college? Would it work for her? I am looking forward to seeing.
Yesterday was registration and although Chen was adamant about either deferring or taking only one class, the advisor was great and she is taking two classes and looking forward to them. Pre-calc so she can stop seeking an online curriculum that will fill in her gaps and microeconomics so she can learn more about entrepreneurship. They are 2 days a week, giving her recovery days.
She also made an appointment with student services to get extra testing time, and hopefully a copy of notes and breaks during tests. They offer counseling to help students stay on top of studying and work organization. Hopefully her accommodations will be in place after next week, which will be helpful in whatever she ends up doing in college.
Homeschooling neurodivergent kids is great because you can really give them the focused attention they need and tailor their education to their learning differences. But it's a worry about whether or not they'll be able to get accommodations in college, if they haven't gone through the system and have alternate documentation. I'll feel better once that's in place.
But the cool thing about unschooling is that it's not fraught. If it doesn't work out, no big deal. There's always another approach. It's tremendous freedom.
Labels:
adhd,
choice,
college,
deschooling,
educational goals,
learning disability,
motivation
bar mitzva prep
I'm still not sure what to do with E's learning. The bar mitzva is in about a year. Ari has his goals neatly mapped out: teach him maftir, teach him birchas hatorah, before and after, teach him birchas hahaftorah, before and after. He can daven at his own pace with an English translation, and do as much or little as he is ready for.
My goals are murkier. I often joke that I'm an educational control freak. The dark side of that (okay, I admit that being a control freak of anything is mostly all dark side) is that I tend to have grand plans that are unrealistic and unpleasant for the people I yearn to impose them on. I've avoided a lot of that by unschooling.
But now Elazar agreed to learn "in preparation for his bar mitzva" and I am not sure what to do. I want to learn his parsha with him. But does that mean learning to leyn? To read and translate? Should I just read him the pesukim and the translation? What exactly is best to do with this time?
I asked my friend and was advised: Do what is pleasant.
Basic, pithy, and obvious. And difficult to implement!
I don't think he likes it very much. It's hard for him to sit. So far we've done 1 and a half pesukim in about 8 sessions. I think it's short enough that he doesn't dread it, but he doesn't look forward to it or enjoy it.
And this morning I realized that it would be nice if he can fluently read bentching because when he is bar mitzva, he'll be old enough to lead mezumen. So now I'm wondering if I should just go through his parsha with him and have me translate it so he understands it, and then work on his reading.
Choices, choices.
My goals are murkier. I often joke that I'm an educational control freak. The dark side of that (okay, I admit that being a control freak of anything is mostly all dark side) is that I tend to have grand plans that are unrealistic and unpleasant for the people I yearn to impose them on. I've avoided a lot of that by unschooling.
But now Elazar agreed to learn "in preparation for his bar mitzva" and I am not sure what to do. I want to learn his parsha with him. But does that mean learning to leyn? To read and translate? Should I just read him the pesukim and the translation? What exactly is best to do with this time?
I asked my friend and was advised: Do what is pleasant.
Basic, pithy, and obvious. And difficult to implement!
I don't think he likes it very much. It's hard for him to sit. So far we've done 1 and a half pesukim in about 8 sessions. I think it's short enough that he doesn't dread it, but he doesn't look forward to it or enjoy it.
And this morning I realized that it would be nice if he can fluently read bentching because when he is bar mitzva, he'll be old enough to lead mezumen. So now I'm wondering if I should just go through his parsha with him and have me translate it so he understands it, and then work on his reading.
Choices, choices.
"You should have taught me X"
It's one of the unschooling parent's nightmares that people tell me about sometimes. What if, since I didn't "make" my kid sit down and learn xyz, they come to me when they are older and blame me? What if they denounce me and say, "You should have taught it to me! You should have made me do it!"
Parenting is rife with stories from people who were grateful that their parents made them do things. "I'm glad my parents made me leyn for my bar mitzva." "I'm glad my parents forced me to do my homework every night." "I'm glad my parents forced me to..." Actually, I just went to google that to get some ideas: get a summer job; perform in musicals; swimming lessons; music lessons; restrict media...
Interesting. As I'm reading, I see an equal amount of resentment at being forced to do things ("I still hate it and I hate it more because they made me do it") and I see resentment for being not forced to do things ("I wish I had more guidance and it didn't feel like they cared what I did or loved me").
I've heard more than once that parents are nervous about unschooling because what if the child grows up and "knows nothing" (obviously that's absurd because children are curious and can't help learning things if they aren't forced to learn things, but the fear is more if they don't know "basic" things like reading/writing/'rithmetic) and is then angry at the parent for not discharging their parental responsibility: I trusted you to handle my education! Yeah, I fought you, but I was a child! You weren't supposed to let me do things that are not good for me! If I'm a toddler and I want to run into the street into traffic, you aren't supposed to LET me!
First, I want to note that there seem to be two extremes that upset grown kids here: 1) being controlled and being forced to do things they don't want to do. 2) being uninvolved and not being pushed to do things or encouraged or given help and support to get out of comfort zones.
In general, people are familiar with unschooling being not about forcing. But it is not the second option, either. It is not neglect. It is not letting kids find their own way with no parental support or supervision. It is very hands on and very involved. It's just that the parents don't decide what to do, they support what the child wants to do.
Next. (I think I wrote about this before, but I can't find the post.) A big feature of unschooling is that the child learns something when it is interesting or when it is useful. Therefore, if a child is concerned that they haven't learned xyz, you can simply reassure them that when it is interesting enough OR when they find they need it, they'll have the motivation to learn it and be willing to put in the time and effort to learn it. And that time will be the right time, and there's nothing wrong with not knowing it until that point.
In our society, we have a lot of social norms about what age people should know different things. But that is actually pretty arbitrary. There's something magical about a cheerful, energetic, and optimistic 25 year old who doesn't know something basic but assures their boss that they are prepared to learn it and should have a general sense of things in a couple of weeks. And then walks back in with an excellent grasp and a sophisticated understanding of things.
Part of unschooling is a cheerful confidence that they have the ability to learn things when they want to.
Finally, I'd like to quote Deb Rossing from an unschooling group (bold mine):
It's important to be open to feedback (heck, most of homeschooling is basically taking feedback from your children about how to teach them).
But sometimes blame is just them feeling badly about themselves and wanting to avoid the reality--when you want to learn it, you can and will.
An important distinction is that sometimes kids want the end result of having the knowledge or skill, but they do not want to put in the time and effort to get that result. They want to be a great electric guitar player; they don't want to practice. They want to know calculus; they don't want to spend hours working on it. They want to build things; they don't want to start slowly and methodically.
And we as adults, often shame them for that. Or worry that this demonstrates a future lack of ability to persist.
So when they say, "I want to play piano" for the hundredth time, we retort: "Practice, and you'll get better!"
We lecture or we pressure or we let them know that there is something bad about them for not being motivated to put in that time and effort.
Unschooling really is radical in this sense. It suggests trust. Trust that you don't have to push. That when the child wants to do it, it will come. Either it will come easily, or your child will be determined and will persist.
Chen kept saying she wanted to take the ACTs. But for a long while she didn't do much about it. If I actually was stressed that she wouldn't be able to take the ACTs and that she had to take the ACTs and it would be terrible for her future if she didn't take the ACTs, my reactions and my interactions with her would have looked very differently than if I was emotionally neutral about her plans and just wanted to support her. I bought her a curriculum. She didn't like it. I got her ACT books out of the library. I offered to teach her but she didn't want that. I researched and discovered alternative paths to college--going to community college without needing to take SATs or ACTs. I told her about that. Eventually, she started teaching herself the math. She got a friend to teach her. She asked for a couple of tutoring sessions, which I paid for. I wasn't on top of her and to me it was not about what she was learning or not learning. It was about supporting her choices.
If a child is blaming the parent, it could be:
Parenting is rife with stories from people who were grateful that their parents made them do things. "I'm glad my parents made me leyn for my bar mitzva." "I'm glad my parents forced me to do my homework every night." "I'm glad my parents forced me to..." Actually, I just went to google that to get some ideas: get a summer job; perform in musicals; swimming lessons; music lessons; restrict media...
Interesting. As I'm reading, I see an equal amount of resentment at being forced to do things ("I still hate it and I hate it more because they made me do it") and I see resentment for being not forced to do things ("I wish I had more guidance and it didn't feel like they cared what I did or loved me").
I've heard more than once that parents are nervous about unschooling because what if the child grows up and "knows nothing" (obviously that's absurd because children are curious and can't help learning things if they aren't forced to learn things, but the fear is more if they don't know "basic" things like reading/writing/'rithmetic) and is then angry at the parent for not discharging their parental responsibility: I trusted you to handle my education! Yeah, I fought you, but I was a child! You weren't supposed to let me do things that are not good for me! If I'm a toddler and I want to run into the street into traffic, you aren't supposed to LET me!
First, I want to note that there seem to be two extremes that upset grown kids here: 1) being controlled and being forced to do things they don't want to do. 2) being uninvolved and not being pushed to do things or encouraged or given help and support to get out of comfort zones.
In general, people are familiar with unschooling being not about forcing. But it is not the second option, either. It is not neglect. It is not letting kids find their own way with no parental support or supervision. It is very hands on and very involved. It's just that the parents don't decide what to do, they support what the child wants to do.
Next. (I think I wrote about this before, but I can't find the post.) A big feature of unschooling is that the child learns something when it is interesting or when it is useful. Therefore, if a child is concerned that they haven't learned xyz, you can simply reassure them that when it is interesting enough OR when they find they need it, they'll have the motivation to learn it and be willing to put in the time and effort to learn it. And that time will be the right time, and there's nothing wrong with not knowing it until that point.
In our society, we have a lot of social norms about what age people should know different things. But that is actually pretty arbitrary. There's something magical about a cheerful, energetic, and optimistic 25 year old who doesn't know something basic but assures their boss that they are prepared to learn it and should have a general sense of things in a couple of weeks. And then walks back in with an excellent grasp and a sophisticated understanding of things.
Part of unschooling is a cheerful confidence that they have the ability to learn things when they want to.
Finally, I'd like to quote Deb Rossing from an unschooling group (bold mine):
okay, and if he does 'blame' you, then what? Knowing that you've done what you could to support, encourage, facilitate what he said he wanted to do (or not do, or try and stop doing) all along the way, what does his 'blaming' do to you? It sounds like you're trying to line everything up perfectly so you don't get 'blamed' for anything - but reality is that you -could- do everything perfectly and STILL get 'blamed' because that is not something you can control, that is in the head of the other person, whether it is your child, your partner, or some other person. We can't talk a person out of their opinions and feelings. Best we can do is ask for feedback "How could I have done that better, in that time and situation?" Often, they don't know -because basically blame is trying to get out from under feeling badly -about themselves- not so much about you or what you did/didn't do.I think Deb put her finger on a couple of important points. One, we as homeschooling or unschooling parents are worried about all the responsibility--so we'd love to set it up so that whatever goes wrong is not our fault. The fact is, homeschooling is scary. Because nobody else is making the decisions about what to do with your children and how to educate them. It's all on you. The good, the bad, and the ugly. It's sobering that this really is on us.
It's important to be open to feedback (heck, most of homeschooling is basically taking feedback from your children about how to teach them).
But sometimes blame is just them feeling badly about themselves and wanting to avoid the reality--when you want to learn it, you can and will.
An important distinction is that sometimes kids want the end result of having the knowledge or skill, but they do not want to put in the time and effort to get that result. They want to be a great electric guitar player; they don't want to practice. They want to know calculus; they don't want to spend hours working on it. They want to build things; they don't want to start slowly and methodically.
And we as adults, often shame them for that. Or worry that this demonstrates a future lack of ability to persist.
So when they say, "I want to play piano" for the hundredth time, we retort: "Practice, and you'll get better!"
We lecture or we pressure or we let them know that there is something bad about them for not being motivated to put in that time and effort.
Unschooling really is radical in this sense. It suggests trust. Trust that you don't have to push. That when the child wants to do it, it will come. Either it will come easily, or your child will be determined and will persist.
Chen kept saying she wanted to take the ACTs. But for a long while she didn't do much about it. If I actually was stressed that she wouldn't be able to take the ACTs and that she had to take the ACTs and it would be terrible for her future if she didn't take the ACTs, my reactions and my interactions with her would have looked very differently than if I was emotionally neutral about her plans and just wanted to support her. I bought her a curriculum. She didn't like it. I got her ACT books out of the library. I offered to teach her but she didn't want that. I researched and discovered alternative paths to college--going to community college without needing to take SATs or ACTs. I told her about that. Eventually, she started teaching herself the math. She got a friend to teach her. She asked for a couple of tutoring sessions, which I paid for. I wasn't on top of her and to me it was not about what she was learning or not learning. It was about supporting her choices.
If a child is blaming the parent, it could be:
- You really did make a mistake. In that case, be honest and apologize. You can try to explain what your thinking was, but that only works if there are literally decades of trust between you and your child and your child is used to thinking of you as having the child's best interests at heart and not about pushing your own agenda onto the child. If, as parents, we push our own issues and wants and dreams onto our children, then they may be suspicious that we haven't had their best interests at heart. And would they be wrong?
- The child is wrestling with self doubt. Nervous about lack of abilities or accomplishment. Usually the parents seizes this opportunity to "teach" the child that what is needed is effort or motivation. Instead, consider exuding trust. Remind the child that learning is easiest when it is interesting or useful to the person. Find things that are interesting and fun to the child, and give reassurance that it won't be hard to learn when they are ready.
It's kind of scary to take that leap and believe that it really is okay if they don't know things or have certain skills or are able to do certain things. I remember thinking--but...but...what if they never learn math?! What if they never want to learn Torah? What if they can't do...things?
For an unschooler the answer when your child asks this is: Okay, do you want to do it now? How can I help?
And if they say: No...I just want to know what if I grow up and I don't know it?
Answer: Then you'll learn it when you want to!
Labels:
blame,
long term goals,
math,
maturity,
personal responsibility,
unschooling,
worries
Friday, July 5, 2019
Summer Update III: College
College. First, Chen wants to defer. She wants a semester to mentally prepare for going to college. She wants to pre-learn Calculus so that she can understand the course and not drown while she takes the course.
I was resistant, and wanted her to take one course. Drama. Dance. Once or twice a week.
She rightfully argued that it's about 2 hours to commute, plus time in the class. That's twice a week that she loses 3.5 hours a day, which really loses her the whole day because she doesn't cram things into a day.
If it's stressful enough where she needs a day to recuperate, i.e. a day of doing nothing after an eventful day, then she loses 4 days. So she really won't have time to learn Calculus.
Ironic, isn't it, that she wants to go to college so she can go to the Hillel and meet people (i.e. socialization) but it will interfere with her education?
She also said that she wants to take difficult classes so she can meet smart people.
I agree with her points. However, I am concerned that for the first time, she won't be getting out of the house regularly and seeing people. All of her friends from the local High School I work at will be in Israel for the year. Her local friends will be in college and not available to hang out during the week or even much on weekends. I don't think she realizes how socially isolated she'll be.
I brought that up and she agreed to give it some thought.
We have a few things left:
I was resistant, and wanted her to take one course. Drama. Dance. Once or twice a week.
She rightfully argued that it's about 2 hours to commute, plus time in the class. That's twice a week that she loses 3.5 hours a day, which really loses her the whole day because she doesn't cram things into a day.
If it's stressful enough where she needs a day to recuperate, i.e. a day of doing nothing after an eventful day, then she loses 4 days. So she really won't have time to learn Calculus.
Ironic, isn't it, that she wants to go to college so she can go to the Hillel and meet people (i.e. socialization) but it will interfere with her education?
She also said that she wants to take difficult classes so she can meet smart people.
I agree with her points. However, I am concerned that for the first time, she won't be getting out of the house regularly and seeing people. All of her friends from the local High School I work at will be in Israel for the year. Her local friends will be in college and not available to hang out during the week or even much on weekends. I don't think she realizes how socially isolated she'll be.
I brought that up and she agreed to give it some thought.
We have a few things left:
- Get that letter of Completion from the district. Nobody is answering my calls or emails. That may be because it is July and everyone is on vacation. That may be because that's how it is. Chen needs that for Queens College, so hopefully that will be compelling. I'll have to keep calling. That's on my mind.
- See if Chen can get accommodations in Queens College. That will probably make a huge difference in both her attitude and also her actual ability to take classes there.
- Either defer or register for one course. Chen has been studying to take the test for online Bio 101 and she realized that maybe Bio with lab may also be a good choice for a first course. I also think Chem with lab would be a good choice for her.
- She has to take a math exam for QC to see if she qualifies to take Calculus. Exams make her nervous. So she has to discuss what is involved with that and if she can get extra time for that.
Summer Update II: Camp
On a camp note, Aharon is in camp and he dreads the learning. He said the davening is tolerable but the learning is so long and boring. The whole davening and learning is from 9-11:30 with recess. I really may have to look into a more modern Orthodox camp where learning is only 45 minutes. I'm honestly considering driving him to camp after learning. But then he misses davening, and he likes davening well enough. And it's not like he has to "learn to tolerate it." He's a trooper and can sit through it. Watching him sniffle and rub his eyes this morning as he waited for the bus was pretty agonizing, though. I offered to buy him a lego set to offset the pain of the learning. I also told him that he doesn't actually have to do the work (as far as I can see, it is Hebrew word finds and parsha coloring pages) but he looked at me like I was nuts for saying he doesn't have to. I offered to write the Rebbi a note and he declined. He has an overdeveloped sense of responsibility. He does love the sports, though. However, he's so looking forward to not sitting through learning that he won't even consider going to camp at all.
Sometimes I ask myself, how is it that none of my children can sit through standard learning? He's not adhd. How is it that he finds it such agonizing torture? Why do my kids have such thin skin and inability to tolerate it? Is this going to be a problem later in life?
And sometimes I think to myself: sitting passively for a long time and doing activities that you find boring IS torture. My kids are just not habituated to tolerating that. Homeschooled kids as a general rule are not.
Sometimes I ask myself, how is it that none of my children can sit through standard learning? He's not adhd. How is it that he finds it such agonizing torture? Why do my kids have such thin skin and inability to tolerate it? Is this going to be a problem later in life?
And sometimes I think to myself: sitting passively for a long time and doing activities that you find boring IS torture. My kids are just not habituated to tolerating that. Homeschooled kids as a general rule are not.
Summer Update I: bar mitzva prep
Things have been kind of brewing under the surface. Everyone grew recently. Lots and lots of inches. Suddenly, they are all big.
Elazar has been showing an interest in davening. He asked about going to mincha, because it seemed short. A week or two after that, he asked to go on a specific day (or Ari invited him, I don't remember). And now he's been going to mincha regularly and asking about maariv on Motzei Shabbos.
This past week I told him that he can daven in English, and he said what about saying Hashem's name? Doesn't that have to be in Hebrew? I said ideally yes and he can say "Adonai" if he sees "God" but if it's too difficult, he can just say it in English. He got pretty excited about that but asked how he will know the English. I showed him that there are siddurs with English and he was thrilled. Ari gave him one in shul. Yesterday I told him that there is no rush to finish the whole thing while everyone is davening, and if he wants to slow down and try to understand parts of it a little at a time, that's more important than actually saying the whole thing. He said but he can't ask either of us what something means in the middle of davening--me because I'm not there, and Ari because he's davening. We said you can ask us later or just try to figure it out from context.
On a side note, the boys played a trivia game yesterday and I understood from the adult playing with them that it was a game "for those who are in school," i.e. my kids didn't know the answers.
I'm trying to think carefully about Elazar's next year. I want to prepare him for as much as he can do before his bar mitzva, but I want to be very careful. It seems to me that waiting a year or two or five or even ten for him to be motivated and do things with joy and because of his own desire would be FAR preferable than pushing him to do it so he is ready and capable at bar mitzva. It's a tricky line. The more I think about it, the more it makes sense to wait. On the other hand, there is something about anticipating responsibility and preparing for it with respect and eagerness. (I suppose "eagerness" being key, and if "eagerness" slides into "dread" maybe we want to stop well before that.)
Elazar has been showing an interest in davening. He asked about going to mincha, because it seemed short. A week or two after that, he asked to go on a specific day (or Ari invited him, I don't remember). And now he's been going to mincha regularly and asking about maariv on Motzei Shabbos.
This past week I told him that he can daven in English, and he said what about saying Hashem's name? Doesn't that have to be in Hebrew? I said ideally yes and he can say "Adonai" if he sees "God" but if it's too difficult, he can just say it in English. He got pretty excited about that but asked how he will know the English. I showed him that there are siddurs with English and he was thrilled. Ari gave him one in shul. Yesterday I told him that there is no rush to finish the whole thing while everyone is davening, and if he wants to slow down and try to understand parts of it a little at a time, that's more important than actually saying the whole thing. He said but he can't ask either of us what something means in the middle of davening--me because I'm not there, and Ari because he's davening. We said you can ask us later or just try to figure it out from context.
On a side note, the boys played a trivia game yesterday and I understood from the adult playing with them that it was a game "for those who are in school," i.e. my kids didn't know the answers.
I'm trying to think carefully about Elazar's next year. I want to prepare him for as much as he can do before his bar mitzva, but I want to be very careful. It seems to me that waiting a year or two or five or even ten for him to be motivated and do things with joy and because of his own desire would be FAR preferable than pushing him to do it so he is ready and capable at bar mitzva. It's a tricky line. The more I think about it, the more it makes sense to wait. On the other hand, there is something about anticipating responsibility and preparing for it with respect and eagerness. (I suppose "eagerness" being key, and if "eagerness" slides into "dread" maybe we want to stop well before that.)
Labels:
bar mitzva,
chinuch,
davening,
judaic studies,
mishna,
motivation,
tefila,
unschooling
Monday, May 13, 2019
Processing Disorder
My teen showed me this picture. She looks at a book with her eyes and it doesn't get poured into her brain. As you can see, some dribbles do make it into the cup, which is why she has to read everything numerous times before she understands it.
Speaking of which, she recently finished the very grueling Fast ForWord program. She doesn't feel that she can read better. But it may have been a gradual thing. It may be that when on medication (she did not take medication when she did the exercises) that she will be able to process better.
Her assessment is that this program will work very well for auditory processing issues and for dyslexia. And she doesn't know so much about autism, but from the little she knows, she thinks it could be helpful. It helped her very much with analogies, which she couldn't process before.
The final exercise was reading full paragraphs. She said at the beginning of the game, she made many mistakes and by the end she wasn't making those mistakes. But she is not sure if it is because her neurology grew more connections or if she just learned how to play the game. I guess time will tell. I can tell you that she is not choosing to read books for fun at this time. She reads on Shabbos so likely if reading were coming easier, she would be more inclined.
At the moment, she isn't studying anything that is reading-heavy. We will see if when/if she does, if things are easier.
Sunday, May 12, 2019
Davening Goals
Davening has a way of clarifying goals. I've been trying to figure out the easiest way for Elazar to learn how to leyn. He'll be 12 soon. I started learning his parsha and the first aliyah is SO MUCH more difficult than the last 3 pesukim of maftir. I started focusing on the trope because he wanted to go to the ice cream store. I said I'll take him every couple of weeks and we'll learn the trope. All the boys are doing it together and we've been enjoying ice cream.
One of the things I've been davening for is that Elazar should have an easy time grasping and remembering the trope, and that it should come easily to him. That's not something that's in human control.
I realized as I was davening about it this morning, that if I could fast forward fifteen years into the future, and see that Elazar loves to learn Torah, is shomer mitzvos, can make parnassah, and has the promise of a loving and healthy relationship, then I wouldn't care a whit if he could leyn or not.
My 2010 educational goals (seems like it's about time for a conscious re-evalution; a lot has shifted in almost a decade) already need a reboot because I discovered via the turbulent teen years that I had focused on love of learning and shortchanged love of mitzvos. One of my most frequent tefilos is that my children should love Torah AND mitzvos.
This doesn't just work by invoking Divine Intervention (though tefila acknowledges that human efforts are essentially insufficient for success). It focuses me every day. When I daven that my children should love mitzvos, it affects how I speak about mitzvos. It affects my relationship with mitzvos. It helps me pay attention to how mitzvos are good and useful and keeps my attitude more positive. It frames how I speak to them about mitzvos. Basically, davening strongly affects how these conversations and interactions go--in a laws of nature kind of way.
Davening about leyning this morning was a weird experience. I've davened for it before, because I find that davening helps ME keep a value or goal in the forefront of my mind. It's easier for me to keep motivated about practicing the trope with him when I davened for it that morning. Years ago my Rabbi mentioned that when asking God for something, the first question to ask ourselves is, "Have I done everything possible according to the laws of nature to achieve this?" It's kind of chutzpadik to lie in bed staring at the window and davening that Hashem should open the window for me. Get out of bed and open the window! (If you can't, have physical disability or emotional resistance, then of course davening is not chutzpadik.) (And [sidepoint] it's also okay to be chutzpadik in davening, too.)
This time, while davening, I was just hit with the feeling of What If I were to know that leyning wouldn't work out for him, but I got my usual tefila answered--that he loves Torah and Mitzvos?
It was clear to me what the answer is.
Not to say that I plan to stop trying to facilitate his leyning. I think if it's not too painful or too stressful*, participating in minyan in the fullest way possible is an important part of being grown up and being part of the community.
(*Big IF)
But it's an important perspective.
One of the things I've been davening for is that Elazar should have an easy time grasping and remembering the trope, and that it should come easily to him. That's not something that's in human control.
I realized as I was davening about it this morning, that if I could fast forward fifteen years into the future, and see that Elazar loves to learn Torah, is shomer mitzvos, can make parnassah, and has the promise of a loving and healthy relationship, then I wouldn't care a whit if he could leyn or not.
My 2010 educational goals (seems like it's about time for a conscious re-evalution; a lot has shifted in almost a decade) already need a reboot because I discovered via the turbulent teen years that I had focused on love of learning and shortchanged love of mitzvos. One of my most frequent tefilos is that my children should love Torah AND mitzvos.
This doesn't just work by invoking Divine Intervention (though tefila acknowledges that human efforts are essentially insufficient for success). It focuses me every day. When I daven that my children should love mitzvos, it affects how I speak about mitzvos. It affects my relationship with mitzvos. It helps me pay attention to how mitzvos are good and useful and keeps my attitude more positive. It frames how I speak to them about mitzvos. Basically, davening strongly affects how these conversations and interactions go--in a laws of nature kind of way.
Davening about leyning this morning was a weird experience. I've davened for it before, because I find that davening helps ME keep a value or goal in the forefront of my mind. It's easier for me to keep motivated about practicing the trope with him when I davened for it that morning. Years ago my Rabbi mentioned that when asking God for something, the first question to ask ourselves is, "Have I done everything possible according to the laws of nature to achieve this?" It's kind of chutzpadik to lie in bed staring at the window and davening that Hashem should open the window for me. Get out of bed and open the window! (If you can't, have physical disability or emotional resistance, then of course davening is not chutzpadik.) (And [sidepoint] it's also okay to be chutzpadik in davening, too.)
This time, while davening, I was just hit with the feeling of What If I were to know that leyning wouldn't work out for him, but I got my usual tefila answered--that he loves Torah and Mitzvos?
It was clear to me what the answer is.
Not to say that I plan to stop trying to facilitate his leyning. I think if it's not too painful or too stressful*, participating in minyan in the fullest way possible is an important part of being grown up and being part of the community.
(*Big IF)
But it's an important perspective.
Labels:
davening,
educational goals,
long term goals,
tefila
Thursday, April 4, 2019
So it's been a little over a month since I started learning Elazar's bar mitzva parsha. I've learned almost 9 pesukim and a strong appreciation for the efforts a bar mitzva boy puts in. It's hard to believe my brothers did their parshas, the haftorahs, and musaf.
We were at a bar mitzva on Shabbos and I felt tremendous envy as the boy did a bang up job at his leining. Elazar wasn't even in shul for the candy part. I'm definitely feeling the pain/effort of backing off and trying to accommodate Elazar's nature. (Which is also why I'm glad Ari's mainly in charge of the boys' chinuch. I am definitely the type who can be too pressure-y.) I remind myself that stress and tics would be the result if I don't.
I was talking about it with Ari afterwards, and he said the bar mitzva boy's aliyah is be maftir. And I'm not sure why we didn't discuss this before, but maftir for Matos-Masei is only 3 pesukim, despite it being the longest parsha ever. I took a look at the pesukim and they are so much easier than what I've been learning. I'll continue learning his parsha on the off chance he wants to do it. But it's looking like maftir might be manageable.
So it's been a little over a month since I started learning Elazar's bar mitzva parsha. I've learned almost 9 pesukim and a strong appreciation for the efforts a bar mitzva boy puts in. It's hard to believe my brothers did their parshas, the haftorahs, and musaf.
We were at a bar mitzva on Shabbos and I felt tremendous envy as the boy did a bang up job at his leining. Elazar wasn't even in shul for the candy part. I'm definitely feeling the pain/effort of backing off and trying to accommodate Elazar's nature. (Which is also why I'm glad Ari's mainly in charge of the boys' chinuch. I am definitely the type who can be too pressure-y.) I remind myself that stress and tics would be the result if I don't.
I was talking about it with Ari afterwards, and he said the bar mitzva boy's aliyah is be maftir. And I'm not sure why we didn't discuss this before, but maftir for Matos-Masei is only 3 pesukim, despite it being the longest parsha ever. I took a look at the pesukim and they are so much easier than what I've been learning. I'll continue learning his parsha on the off chance he wants to do it. But it's looking like maftir might be manageable.
Friday, May 10, 2019
Thursday, April 11, 2019
Online Pornography & Chinuch Part II
Here is Part I
The reason I asked experienced unschoolers about their thoughts on pornography is because in general, radical unschoolers don't restrict media. Their attitude towards screentime, video games, shows, movies, youtube, is that it is all educational. They aren't alarmed by violent video games, violent movies (if the child seems emotionally able to handle it), playing video games "all day long." They also are relaxed about "junk food." And bedtimes. And so many other things. They are extremely sensitive to prioritizing relationships, and strive to have healthy relationships in the family and good communication, and responsiveness to the children's needs. So I wanted to hear what unschoolers have to say about pornography. Anything that society thinks is "bad" is not necessarily harmful, and unschoolers often have a very different way of looking at things, and I wondered about their approach.
Before I get into that, I want to share a halachic approach. I found this podcast extremely useful:
Intimate Judaism: Masturbation, Sexual Health, & Halacha: Is There a Conflict?
From the unschoolers I got advice:
The reason I asked experienced unschoolers about their thoughts on pornography is because in general, radical unschoolers don't restrict media. Their attitude towards screentime, video games, shows, movies, youtube, is that it is all educational. They aren't alarmed by violent video games, violent movies (if the child seems emotionally able to handle it), playing video games "all day long." They also are relaxed about "junk food." And bedtimes. And so many other things. They are extremely sensitive to prioritizing relationships, and strive to have healthy relationships in the family and good communication, and responsiveness to the children's needs. So I wanted to hear what unschoolers have to say about pornography. Anything that society thinks is "bad" is not necessarily harmful, and unschoolers often have a very different way of looking at things, and I wondered about their approach.
Before I get into that, I want to share a halachic approach. I found this podcast extremely useful:
Intimate Judaism: Masturbation, Sexual Health, & Halacha: Is There a Conflict?
From the unschoolers I got advice:
- to definitely begin conversations about online content and pornography.
- to be very careful to not be accusatory or to engender feelings of guilt
- that there is a lot of material online that a kid can stumble onto and be overwhelmed by
- that filters don't stop that, and conversation is probably the best approach
Given that, I had my first conversation about it. I told E that now that his body is changing, it's time to talk about pornography on the internet. (This is part of many ongoing conversations we've been having about changing bodies.) I asked him if he knows what pornography is, and he said people having sex on camera. I made 4 points:
- When you get older, if you see pornography, you can feel sexually excited, which means...(I trailed off here and 7yo helpfully supplied, "like you want to do the thing that makes babies?") (7yo asked if he should leave the room when I started by saying, "Now that your body is starting to change, it's time to have a conversation." But I said, Nah, he can stay if he wants.)
- There is a lot of pornography which is disturbing or scary or uncomfortable. We reviewed what to do any time he sees something that makes him uncomfortable: Close it and walk away, and come and get me and tell me if you want to discuss it. (I wonder if I should be more forceful about telling them that it's important to talk to me about it, or if it's okay to leave it to their discretion. I guess it depends on how disturbing whatever they come across is.) (This is something that the unschooling ladies thought was very important to convey to my kids--that they could come across things that could potentially scare or disturb them, and they should be prepared for that and have agency to close it down and know that there is parental support available.)
- If you ever see anything that you have questions about, come and ask me and we can talk about it.
- Pornography is usually acting, which means the women are acting like they enjoy it and not necessarily enjoying it, and the way things happen in pornography is not actually how it really is in real life. (Conversations to follow about checking if someone likes it, both verbally and nonverbally, and more about communication and paying attention to what your partner likes and communicating what you like and don't like. But that's not for now.)
Online Pornography & Chinuch Part I
So we are heading into the "I'm totally inexperienced" portion of parenting again. Since my oldest is in her twenties, it's been a while since I've felt myself in this position, even though every child is different and there are always new challenges.
I have three younger brothers, so I have always had a sense of little boys and what they are like. However, I got married young and did not live with them when they were teens. I was already dating my husband at the oldest of my brother's bar mitzva.
So just as I never had a boy's education regarding mishna and gemara (though I did learn mishna in elementary school and some gemara post-high school), I really am not sure what I'm doing in terms of male puberty, male teenager-ness, all sorts of things. Ari does have some strong ideas (one of the more salient that no 7th grade son of his shall ever be bored out of his mind in gemara) but day-to-day, I'm in the trenches with them. And I'm kind of feeling my way.
It's been my experience that when I learn on the job, the oldest one suffers. I can't get experience until I get experience, and that perforce means mistakes.
With that intro, I recently began the murky world of navigating online pornography.
We allow unlimited multimedia in our home. (Here are our basic internet safety guidelines.) We do not have filters on our devices. (I actually recently checked, and all of the computers default on the google browser to "safe browsing," and I changed 11yo's tablet to safe browsing, too.) When they were young, we had only desktops and no tablets allowed in bedrooms. But when teenagers start cocooning, they need privacy, they like to be on screens, and easily get around restrictions.
How to achieve self regulation? How to achieve thoughtfulness? How to avoid "going down the rabbit hole" of pornography? Is that something a parent can influence?
As my sons get older, I've been wondering how to talk to them about it, what approach to take. I have begun asking around and gathering information.
The first thing I did was ask a family with 3 boys, ages 17-21. I got some very good advice:
I have three younger brothers, so I have always had a sense of little boys and what they are like. However, I got married young and did not live with them when they were teens. I was already dating my husband at the oldest of my brother's bar mitzva.
So just as I never had a boy's education regarding mishna and gemara (though I did learn mishna in elementary school and some gemara post-high school), I really am not sure what I'm doing in terms of male puberty, male teenager-ness, all sorts of things. Ari does have some strong ideas (one of the more salient that no 7th grade son of his shall ever be bored out of his mind in gemara) but day-to-day, I'm in the trenches with them. And I'm kind of feeling my way.
It's been my experience that when I learn on the job, the oldest one suffers. I can't get experience until I get experience, and that perforce means mistakes.
With that intro, I recently began the murky world of navigating online pornography.
We allow unlimited multimedia in our home. (Here are our basic internet safety guidelines.) We do not have filters on our devices. (I actually recently checked, and all of the computers default on the google browser to "safe browsing," and I changed 11yo's tablet to safe browsing, too.) When they were young, we had only desktops and no tablets allowed in bedrooms. But when teenagers start cocooning, they need privacy, they like to be on screens, and easily get around restrictions.
How to achieve self regulation? How to achieve thoughtfulness? How to avoid "going down the rabbit hole" of pornography? Is that something a parent can influence?
As my sons get older, I've been wondering how to talk to them about it, what approach to take. I have begun asking around and gathering information.
The first thing I did was ask a family with 3 boys, ages 17-21. I got some very good advice:
- They don't want to navigate it alone; they want parental guidance [both secular and halachically]
- They want to be left alone to figure things out themselves without their parents angsting about what they're doing
(I realize there is some contradiction. I asked more than one person and it's important to remember that even in the same family, different kids have different needs) - They do not want to feel like their parents are upset or horrified
- It's really important to feel comfortable, like you can bring up questions to your parents and have a conversation about it, and they won't freak out. And that the parents will give them information. And that the parents won't be worrying about everything.
Armed with that information, I asked some seasoned unschoolers what their approach is. That will be Part 2.
Wednesday, March 27, 2019
Jessiepheus
I just dragged 2 garbage bags up the stairs from the basement yet again, and I think I need to reframe. Getting the basement to a state where I won't need to clean it is just not compatible with the kids' activities. Me leaving it alone and ignoring it is also not compatible with their lifestyle, because when it gets too bad, they won't work there anymore. Unschoolers have likened playspace to providing children with new canvases for artwork when they need it. When they "use it up" (i.e. make a mess), then it's time to provide them with a new, clean canvas. That's my job as parent.
I caught myself turning snappy quite a few times in the process today (though I was much better than last time). Eventually the thought occurred to me: do you want your kids to remember straightening the basement to make their new, fresh "canvas" to be a happy process? Or do you want them to remember a bitter, resentful, annoyed mommy? I'd like door A, please.
Next time I'm going to prioritize a cheerful attitude and to really work to control nastiness, snideness, meanness, snappiness, crankiness, etc. etc. etc.
In the meantime, I hope thinking of it as "making room for more creative workspace" will help me be more positive about it.
Here's the quote that I read years ago that seems to have sunk into my brain in a new way today. It's from Sandra Dodd's site:
Ok, I think I'll share my newly thought of philosophy of housework here...I was straightening up the livingroom and had just finished piling up blocks ..when my son (2) ran into the room, saw the blocks and immediately tore down the pile. I smiled and shook my head. My sister, who'd arrived in time to see this, sternly said, "Harry! Your mother just finished putting those away!" When she said that I felt offended. Didn't she know I only pile those blocks so that Harry can knock them down? And there was the Aha! I looked around the room at the clean living room and realized that was why I did any cleaning.
We don't clean up messes to have a clean house. We clean up messes so there is room for more mess!
Now I think of cleaning up after my kids as replacing a canvas. I do it with the thought that by giving them room again and a bare floor and organized toys to pick from I'm handing them the tools to write another mess onto our house. It's meant that at the end of a day, or sometimes a few days in a row, I just let the mess stay, because really, it's a work of art or a story. Maybe it isn't finished. Maybe it's too interesting to be gotten rid of so soon. It also clears up my feelings of resentment about doing the bulk of it. I like being the one to reset the house so that we all can live another, different mess the next day.
Anyway, thought I'd share since it's really helped me bring more joy into the housework!
Friday, March 8, 2019
Radical Unschooling as a Philosophy and Way of Life
I came across this amusing video. While I can definitely relate to a lot of what the kids do and how frustrating it can be, it made me realize just how much Radical Unschooling as a parenting philosophy has affected me.
Some of the frustrations I've learned to frame in a different way so that they are less frustrating. I've learned to understand children's nature so that I have different expectations. And a lot of it is about communication--how a parent communicates things to children. A lot of radical unschooling is about helping children understand things minus judgment, shame, or making them feel bad. And the overall thing is how the mom walks around cranky and angry.
Believe me, I know that feeling. There was once a comedian who described how his wife's face seemed to be stuck in a permanent sour sneer and I literally laughed until I cried when he explained the frustrations that led to that face.
As I was watching the crankiness and anger in this video, I noticed how radical unschooling philosophy has had an impact on my general attitude-- in how I feel about what the kids do, how I speak to them about what they do, and how much negative energy and crankiness I have about what they do.
video: [angry] Why is the floor so sticky?
how i hope to handle it: Guys! Please come here with a rag and spray!
[Full disclosure--in true hardcore radical unschooling, helping around the house is as optional as everything else. So the kids have a right to say they are busy or even to refuse outright, just as they have that option when being told to learn xyz. I'm not that hardcore, so we would probably negotiate that they finish doing what they are in the middle of doing and I'll remind them if they forget.]
video: WHO is responsible for these breadcrumbs, huh!?
hihthi: Hey, who ate here? There are crumbs left
[Basically the same but I would like to prioritize a nicer tone, and the general concept that everyone agreed (which I only implemented when they were old enough to clean after themselves) that they can eat wherever they want on condition they clean up after themselves.]
video: [staggering comically under enormous pile of laundry]: There's no way I bought you this many clothes!
hihthi: [I konmaried a lot of clothes. Their clothes are manageable amounts and the older ones do their own laundry if I don't get to it when they feel like they need it.]
video: You kids have WAY too many toys! Shut up, Buzz [to noisy toy]!
hihthi:[I put a lot of toys in storage; they have access to them whenever they want, but they are not out and about much. We divided the room in half, i.e. compromise. The point being to be strategic about it and to try a lot of different things, the same way you would with an adult you are sharing space with.]
Here's an updated photo of their space:
video: I can't do this anymore, I'm done! [scrubbing]
hihthi: Radical unschooling actually has a radical notion. It's not just about the kids. If you don't want to do it, then don't. It's okay. You can do it happy and wholeheartedly or you can let it slide.
video: Hey Billy, are you going to flush? Or are you saving this turd for later?
hihthi: Honestly, I laughed. That happens all the time. It's not too much trouble to flush or to give a shout out "Last person to use the bathroom, please go flush it." I'm being nitpicky but I do think there is a tinge of shaming in the way it's phrased in the video. I know it's a joke. And maybe a lot of kids wouldn't mind that. I personally prefer straightforward communication to sarcasm.
video: How did noodles get on the wall? Who missed their mouth that bad?!
hihthi: I laughed here, too. Been there, done that. How does food get there? If the kid is old enough, I call them over (ideally in a pleasant tone) and ask them to get a napkin or a rag and spray. And we clean it together. Even a 2 year old can help.
video: [vacuuming in corner with hose extension with wild eyed expression]
hihthi: I can honestly say I've never done that in my life.
video: Who spilt the grape JUICE!
hihthi: call over kid, rag and spray
video: Oh, you guys have been watching slime videos again? That must explain the sticky floor.
hihthi: The kids make slime on a plastic tablecloth that they roll up after. (If you look closely at the above picture, they also duct taped plastic to the floor for easy cleanup for themselves. I didn't tell them to do that.)
Jack's slime:
And the place where the glue spilled off the plastic:
So radical unschooling would be about making a space for kids to do their thing, about recognizing that these activities are extremely important for their learning/development/emotional/intellectual growth, and about being okay living in a space that has these types of mess because it is good for the kids.
Also, being angry about the sticky floor is a negative and shaming vibe that the mom gives off about the types of things the kids do, and resentment. I know I'm being extremely harsh and perhaps overly sensitive about this. But one of the things I've really loved about radical unschooling is about how it really changes the atmosphere in the home into something so much more pleasant for everyone.
video: Oh, one of the kids drew on the wall. Isn't that adorable! We have a little Picasso on our hands!
hihthi: I don't mind terribly drawing on the walls. In the basement they are allowed. We have magic eraser (and for a while, did not travel anywhere without it, since if there were writing utensils and we took our eyes off our kids, the toddlers drew on walls). My house is not so pristine that drawing is a big deal.
My favorite drawing on walls situation EVER:
video: Oh, look at this! An open bag of chips!
hihthi: I think this is actually a huge chiddush that I learned from radical unschooling. My children actually don't realize or don't think about how things get stale, how quickly they get stale, etc. Instead of yelling or shaming them, it is astonishing how well it works to assume that they actually don't know or weren't thinking about it because they were involved in other things. To say in a calm and kind tone, "Maybe you didn't realize or maybe you forgot" and to explain that when chips are left open, they aren't as tasty after. And then show them how to seal it and supervise them so they know how to do it and help them out if they want or need help.
This has been transformative. Giving information the same way I would give a friend information instead of snapping, yelling, or shaming has had an enormous impact on the pleasantness of our daily life.
I think snapping, yelling, and shaming make a kid curl up inside a little each time it happens. It makes them feel stupid or bad for doing things that are normal kid things. And it increases strife and a feeling of wanting to avoid interactions with the parent. Why should our many, many interactions with our children be full of small needles of unpleasantness, unhappiness, and making them feel bad about themselves?
video: Who shoved GI Joe down the toilet?
hihthi: ::shrug:: We've had to call the plumber more than once for these kind of things. That's how it goes.
Labels:
basement,
discipline,
konmari,
radical unschooling
Tuesday, March 5, 2019
unschooling davening
More on the idea that if I want my kids to do something, instead of hocking them about it, I should focus on it myself.
I have been taking my own advice and been davening out loud since October. I like to daven first thing or I get lost in the day and have a hard time getting back to it. But some mornings I go to work (or have to get ready to go) before they are awake. Some mornings they are watching videos or wearing headsets. Some mornings they actively leave the house when I start davening.
Some mornings, it's just lovely. I say birchas haTorah out loud, then kriyas shema with brachos out loud. Then I move to my silent shemona esrei. It takes about ten minutes, no big deal. Hallel on hallel days. (I'm considering expanding my repertoire to baruch she'amar, ashrei, yishtabach, and aleinu, but "tafasta meruba lo tafasta," grab too much and you grab nothing, so I'm sticking with what I'm doing for now.) Some mornings they are just quietly playing video games while I daven. Some mornings they keep catching my eye and I smile at them, and they sing along different parts with me.
So many times I felt there was not a lot of point in doing this in terms of them learning the tefila. I felt there was value in them seeing me daven every day, there is value in me davening out loud, but does it help them learn it at all? Especially with videos blaring at the same time? But part of the magic of davening is that it is תדיר, it is frequent, and over the course of many, many, many, many apparently meaningless times, you get times with great value and meaning.
I'm actually surprised that it has only taken four months and they sometimes sing along. Elazar utterly surprised himself when he discovered he apparently knows a good bit of Shema with trope, all learned effortlessly because it was happening around him.
I remember when they were toddlers and babies, I felt bad that our homeschool didn't have "davening" to start the day. Now I have the time and I'm glad. And the boys? Who knows. They see their mother davening.
I have been taking my own advice and been davening out loud since October. I like to daven first thing or I get lost in the day and have a hard time getting back to it. But some mornings I go to work (or have to get ready to go) before they are awake. Some mornings they are watching videos or wearing headsets. Some mornings they actively leave the house when I start davening.
Some mornings, it's just lovely. I say birchas haTorah out loud, then kriyas shema with brachos out loud. Then I move to my silent shemona esrei. It takes about ten minutes, no big deal. Hallel on hallel days. (I'm considering expanding my repertoire to baruch she'amar, ashrei, yishtabach, and aleinu, but "tafasta meruba lo tafasta," grab too much and you grab nothing, so I'm sticking with what I'm doing for now.) Some mornings they are just quietly playing video games while I daven. Some mornings they keep catching my eye and I smile at them, and they sing along different parts with me.
So many times I felt there was not a lot of point in doing this in terms of them learning the tefila. I felt there was value in them seeing me daven every day, there is value in me davening out loud, but does it help them learn it at all? Especially with videos blaring at the same time? But part of the magic of davening is that it is תדיר, it is frequent, and over the course of many, many, many, many apparently meaningless times, you get times with great value and meaning.
I'm actually surprised that it has only taken four months and they sometimes sing along. Elazar utterly surprised himself when he discovered he apparently knows a good bit of Shema with trope, all learned effortlessly because it was happening around him.
I remember when they were toddlers and babies, I felt bad that our homeschool didn't have "davening" to start the day. Now I have the time and I'm glad. And the boys? Who knows. They see their mother davening.
Tuesday, February 26, 2019
bar mitzva prep thoughts
I've been pondering the bar mitzva again. E is 11.5 now. It's creeping closer. For the girls, I spent the year before bat mitzva preparing them to daven, running through mitzvos they weren't keeping yet and going through their chiyuv/obligations, making sure they were fluent at reading the brachos they'd need to say and the davening they'd be halachically obligated in. E still has tremendous difficulty sitting, even for 5 minutes. He is absolutely not interested in working on his Hebrew reading more than the once a week he does it now. (Compare to A, 2nd grade, who spent 2-3 months dragging me the aleph-beis reader every single evening until he achieved the degree of fluency he wanted.) I know for a fact if we wait until he is interested, it will go faster, he will remember it better, and he will be excited about it.
I've also been thinking about radical unschooling. One of the most beautiful things about unschooling is that you meet the child where the child is, not where you want him to be. You have trust and confidence that what the child is working on now is useful and good. And you focus on enjoying the relationship with that child and on partnering with the child to achieve the things that the child is interested in doing. (Reminder to me: make plan to drop E off in semi-supervised wilderness so he can test his "survival" skills.)
Contrast that with the idea of the bar mitzva. Many of my friends (this is my first boy, so I don't know how to raise boys) mentioned that they couldn't believe how their sons stepped up to the expectations of being a bar mitzva and navigated their responsibilities now that they went through the transitional rite of passage. Would I be doing my son a disservice by "letting him off the hook" and not pushing him to lein?
On the other hand, the actual basic bar mitzva situation (he gets up, makes a couple of brachos, the end) is really quite manageable for him. If we just do that, we would all be happy. And he would probably even be happy to work on a speech and deliver it.
A friend of mine (who homeschooled 5 boys who are grown up now) said to me that I should just do his aliyah and make a big deal about celebrating the fact that he is now chayav in mitzvos. This is a beautiful thing and a milestone and worthy of celebration on its own.
Another unschooling friend of mine has 3 boys, all high school and over bar mitzva age, and told me about how as per their wishes, their bar mitzvas were extremely low key, just the aliyah, and how their interest in learning and davening blossomed later--ages 15, 16...
An unschooled young man who now has children of his own told me last year that his youngest brother, still unschooled at home, really only began to "get more serious" after age 16, so he thinks bar mitzva may be young and there is no need to be nervous at that age. This coincides with my own unschooling experience with my current 12th grader.
It's hard to let go of the leining. All three of my brothers leined, did haftorah, and davened mussaf for the amud. And Ari and all of his brothers leined (though not the whole parsha). To me, a big part of being bar mitzva is being qualified to be part of the minyan, being able to lein and being able to daven for the tzibbur.
I remembered a post I wrote a while back. It has excellent advice, and I have taken my own advice many times since I wrote it. It has three pieces of advice: 1) Whatever it is you want your kid to learn but they won't, do it yourself instead. This way, any "living through them" you may be unconsciously experiencing, you take care of by making it happen in yourself. And by you being involved in it, it more likely comes up in conversation and is part of the natural home environment, so your child has exposure to it without being annoyed by being forced into it. 2) Daven. This will help you clarify your goals and bring emotional relief. 3) Make your relationship with your child your priority. Stop focusing on what you want from him and focus on how your relationship with him is, and make sure the interactions are enjoyable and positive.
So I am about to embark on learning Elazar's leining of the first aliyah. It took me 2 years (almost a decade ago) to teach myself how to lein. My husband assures me that my skill level is that of a 12 year old boy. My brother sent me the trope, and I shall begin learning. I'm curious how long it will take me--and I am an adult with a marvelous ability to focus. Let's see what I'm asking of him.
Further, if I get fluent and sing it around him a lot, he will likely learn it pretty easily.
I've also been thinking about radical unschooling. One of the most beautiful things about unschooling is that you meet the child where the child is, not where you want him to be. You have trust and confidence that what the child is working on now is useful and good. And you focus on enjoying the relationship with that child and on partnering with the child to achieve the things that the child is interested in doing. (Reminder to me: make plan to drop E off in semi-supervised wilderness so he can test his "survival" skills.)
Contrast that with the idea of the bar mitzva. Many of my friends (this is my first boy, so I don't know how to raise boys) mentioned that they couldn't believe how their sons stepped up to the expectations of being a bar mitzva and navigated their responsibilities now that they went through the transitional rite of passage. Would I be doing my son a disservice by "letting him off the hook" and not pushing him to lein?
On the other hand, the actual basic bar mitzva situation (he gets up, makes a couple of brachos, the end) is really quite manageable for him. If we just do that, we would all be happy. And he would probably even be happy to work on a speech and deliver it.
A friend of mine (who homeschooled 5 boys who are grown up now) said to me that I should just do his aliyah and make a big deal about celebrating the fact that he is now chayav in mitzvos. This is a beautiful thing and a milestone and worthy of celebration on its own.
Another unschooling friend of mine has 3 boys, all high school and over bar mitzva age, and told me about how as per their wishes, their bar mitzvas were extremely low key, just the aliyah, and how their interest in learning and davening blossomed later--ages 15, 16...
An unschooled young man who now has children of his own told me last year that his youngest brother, still unschooled at home, really only began to "get more serious" after age 16, so he thinks bar mitzva may be young and there is no need to be nervous at that age. This coincides with my own unschooling experience with my current 12th grader.
It's hard to let go of the leining. All three of my brothers leined, did haftorah, and davened mussaf for the amud. And Ari and all of his brothers leined (though not the whole parsha). To me, a big part of being bar mitzva is being qualified to be part of the minyan, being able to lein and being able to daven for the tzibbur.
I remembered a post I wrote a while back. It has excellent advice, and I have taken my own advice many times since I wrote it. It has three pieces of advice: 1) Whatever it is you want your kid to learn but they won't, do it yourself instead. This way, any "living through them" you may be unconsciously experiencing, you take care of by making it happen in yourself. And by you being involved in it, it more likely comes up in conversation and is part of the natural home environment, so your child has exposure to it without being annoyed by being forced into it. 2) Daven. This will help you clarify your goals and bring emotional relief. 3) Make your relationship with your child your priority. Stop focusing on what you want from him and focus on how your relationship with him is, and make sure the interactions are enjoyable and positive.
So I am about to embark on learning Elazar's leining of the first aliyah. It took me 2 years (almost a decade ago) to teach myself how to lein. My husband assures me that my skill level is that of a 12 year old boy. My brother sent me the trope, and I shall begin learning. I'm curious how long it will take me--and I am an adult with a marvelous ability to focus. Let's see what I'm asking of him.
Further, if I get fluent and sing it around him a lot, he will likely learn it pretty easily.
Labels:
adhd,
bar mitzva,
choice,
chumash skills,
deschooling,
hebrew,
unschooling
Monday, February 4, 2019
basement take a bazillion
So Elazar was pretty happy with the no clean up policy. And they've been crafting like fiends very happily.
But then.
Shabbos came. And I didn't want football upstairs. (Even though there is Yes Ball Playing in the House.)
But there was no place to play downstairs. Because the floor is FULL of...garbage? Craft ingredients? Whatever it is, it's not clear for ball.
A friend of mine suggested I partition the basement so they can both have their needs met. Great idea!
So today, I asked Aharon what kind of space he needs for tossing the football. And then I told Elazar I'd be moving all his craft stuff to one area and he has to confine his crafts to that area. He does not have to clean up his craft area. But Aharon's football space must remain clear. We duct taped Aharon's space (from one end of the room to the other, lengthwise).
Hopefully this will work. And if not, I'm getting used to adjusting to different needs in different phases. We'll keep trying.
(The duct tape in the middle and the right is my path. I'm graciously allowing my path to be included in the football area. All crafts shall (hopefully) stay
to the left of the line.)
Tuesday, January 29, 2019
Aharon's First Torah
A couple of days ago, Aharon told me he doesn't like it when I speak in Hebrew.
"Well," I said, "I speak in Hebrew so that when you want to read the Torah, you'll understand it. Because the Torah is in Hebrew."
And he said, "But I can't read the Torah."
"Actually, I think you can," I said. He hasn't been practicing his Hebrew reading very much (except once a week at Avos U'Banim), but like unschoolers usually do, he had practiced every day while he was interested in mastering it, then hit a level of proficiency and stopped working on it. Last time I saw him read, I felt he was pretty fluent. I had been thinking I should offer to work on davening with him, but as always, I vacillate between wondering if I should try to work with them and figuring it will be way more efficient and quick if they do it when they are motivated.
Aharon and Elazar began talking about how they actually knew a fair amount of what the words meant in the Hebrew reader.
[When I started unschooling, I had a fear that one day my kids would grow up, realize they have massive gaps in their education, and blame me for not forcing them to learn it. But I then realized that a lot of unschooling is cheerfully talking about how when they want it and are interested in it, they'll learn it. So they don't learn Torah inside right now, but when it comes up, we talk about how when they are interested and want to, they'll learn it. It turns out that unschoolers happily and cheerfully learn new things and master new skills as they become relevant or interesting.]
Tonight, Aharon was wandering around, and I said, "Hey, want to try to read the Torah?"
He said okay. I asked him which part of Torah is his favorite. He said the part where Hashem turned the water into blood.
No problem. I pulled out Shmos and opened up the pasuk. Aharon read המים and I repeated it after him and he said, "the water!" Then he read אשר and didn't know what it was. I said "that" and he said "אשר קדשנו במצותיו" and I said Yup. Then he read ביאור and I told him that was the Hebrew word for the Nile River. Then he was getting antsy and I told him just one more word. And I pointed to the last word in the pasuk and he read לדם. And I repeated it and he didn't know. And I said just "dam" and he said, "Blood!" And he grinned.
****
An example of how halacha comes up naturally: Aharon wanted to eat his pizza bagel and I told him to make a bracha but he was waiting for the bagel to call off a bit. Then he came over to me a minute later with a tiny bit of the cheese from the top and asked me if this was the same bracha as the bagel. I said no, that's shehakol, and he should make that bracha and then a bracha on the bagel later when it cools down.
"Well," I said, "I speak in Hebrew so that when you want to read the Torah, you'll understand it. Because the Torah is in Hebrew."
And he said, "But I can't read the Torah."
"Actually, I think you can," I said. He hasn't been practicing his Hebrew reading very much (except once a week at Avos U'Banim), but like unschoolers usually do, he had practiced every day while he was interested in mastering it, then hit a level of proficiency and stopped working on it. Last time I saw him read, I felt he was pretty fluent. I had been thinking I should offer to work on davening with him, but as always, I vacillate between wondering if I should try to work with them and figuring it will be way more efficient and quick if they do it when they are motivated.
Aharon and Elazar began talking about how they actually knew a fair amount of what the words meant in the Hebrew reader.
[When I started unschooling, I had a fear that one day my kids would grow up, realize they have massive gaps in their education, and blame me for not forcing them to learn it. But I then realized that a lot of unschooling is cheerfully talking about how when they want it and are interested in it, they'll learn it. So they don't learn Torah inside right now, but when it comes up, we talk about how when they are interested and want to, they'll learn it. It turns out that unschoolers happily and cheerfully learn new things and master new skills as they become relevant or interesting.]
Tonight, Aharon was wandering around, and I said, "Hey, want to try to read the Torah?"
He said okay. I asked him which part of Torah is his favorite. He said the part where Hashem turned the water into blood.
No problem. I pulled out Shmos and opened up the pasuk. Aharon read המים and I repeated it after him and he said, "the water!" Then he read אשר and didn't know what it was. I said "that" and he said "אשר קדשנו במצותיו" and I said Yup. Then he read ביאור and I told him that was the Hebrew word for the Nile River. Then he was getting antsy and I told him just one more word. And I pointed to the last word in the pasuk and he read לדם. And I repeated it and he didn't know. And I said just "dam" and he said, "Blood!" And he grinned.
****
An example of how halacha comes up naturally: Aharon wanted to eat his pizza bagel and I told him to make a bracha but he was waiting for the bagel to call off a bit. Then he came over to me a minute later with a tiny bit of the cheese from the top and asked me if this was the same bracha as the bagel. I said no, that's shehakol, and he should make that bracha and then a bracha on the bagel later when it cools down.
Thursday, January 24, 2019
How is Unschooling Going? Age 11
I'm on a group and someone new asked: Does anyone have any ideas on how to motivate a 2e kid who isn’t?! 10 yo boy...
I wrote an answer and I figured I'd share here.
My 11yo is severe ADHD. I've pretty much given up trying to teach him anything (he starts getting tics or destroying things if he sits for five minutes).
I give him unlimited video games--he learns a ton from there. Access to youtube--he looks up lots of things he wants to know and watches a lot of science and social studies [and a lot of other 'nonsense' but he ends up being well "read" with a fantastic vocabulary].
I'm always hanging about if he wants to tell me things and discuss what he's watching, doing or thinking about. A ton of his learning comes from me just sitting around doing my own thing and pausing when he comes over and being a person to bounce things off of or for him to share something he just watched that he's very enthusiastic about.
I daven out loud sitting next to him every morning while he plays video games. Some mornings he sings along with me. Very rarely. Sometimes he hums the tunes to himself as I walk away. Some mornings he decides he absolutely must go visit the neighbor right when I start davening.
I also have a ton of art supplies for him to tinker around with. Glue gun. Duct tape. Paper, scissors, stapler, lots and lots of cardboard (he collects that himself on recycle day). That's pretty much his day every day (we also do parkour outside the house 2x a week).
He's a happy kid and is thriving.
Also we eventually discovered that a mishna is great because it's very, very short. He learns one mishna most nights but that's after years and years of really not doing anything official--and he chooses to do it. If he's resistant, we don't do it. He gets tics.
My husband takes him to avos ubanim motzei shabbos and he reads a page of reading and hears parsha. He can still barely read hebrew. His English he somehow learned (from minecraft) but he doesn't love to read. Just enough to navigate the internet.
I have him read about 2 lines of bentching after bread if he doesn't scamper off too quickly.
Little bits, here and there, very relaxed. Me always around for conversation. We take walks where he asks deep philosophical Torah questions. He asks halacha questions very very frequently.
All in all, seeing how much anguish parents go through when their kids have trouble in school. And seeing how much the kids suffer--aside from the actual pain of sitting still, many of them suffer from anxiety and crushed self esteem. I mostly feel a shaky sense of relief and delight that Elazar is a happy, thriving, confident kid who loves learning and loves his life.
I wrote an answer and I figured I'd share here.
My 11yo is severe ADHD. I've pretty much given up trying to teach him anything (he starts getting tics or destroying things if he sits for five minutes).
I give him unlimited video games--he learns a ton from there. Access to youtube--he looks up lots of things he wants to know and watches a lot of science and social studies [and a lot of other 'nonsense' but he ends up being well "read" with a fantastic vocabulary].
I'm always hanging about if he wants to tell me things and discuss what he's watching, doing or thinking about. A ton of his learning comes from me just sitting around doing my own thing and pausing when he comes over and being a person to bounce things off of or for him to share something he just watched that he's very enthusiastic about.
I daven out loud sitting next to him every morning while he plays video games. Some mornings he sings along with me. Very rarely. Sometimes he hums the tunes to himself as I walk away. Some mornings he decides he absolutely must go visit the neighbor right when I start davening.
I also have a ton of art supplies for him to tinker around with. Glue gun. Duct tape. Paper, scissors, stapler, lots and lots of cardboard (he collects that himself on recycle day). That's pretty much his day every day (we also do parkour outside the house 2x a week).
He's a happy kid and is thriving.
Also we eventually discovered that a mishna is great because it's very, very short. He learns one mishna most nights but that's after years and years of really not doing anything official--and he chooses to do it. If he's resistant, we don't do it. He gets tics.
My husband takes him to avos ubanim motzei shabbos and he reads a page of reading and hears parsha. He can still barely read hebrew. His English he somehow learned (from minecraft) but he doesn't love to read. Just enough to navigate the internet.
I have him read about 2 lines of bentching after bread if he doesn't scamper off too quickly.
Little bits, here and there, very relaxed. Me always around for conversation. We take walks where he asks deep philosophical Torah questions. He asks halacha questions very very frequently.
All in all, seeing how much anguish parents go through when their kids have trouble in school. And seeing how much the kids suffer--aside from the actual pain of sitting still, many of them suffer from anxiety and crushed self esteem. I mostly feel a shaky sense of relief and delight that Elazar is a happy, thriving, confident kid who loves learning and loves his life.
Labels:
adhd,
chinuch,
curriculum,
davening,
educational goals,
mishna,
multimedia,
reading,
screentime,
tefila,
torah
Tuesday, January 15, 2019
How Things Roll
Last week, Ari brought in groceries and it's the kids' job to put the basement fridge ones in the basement. We had a new gallon of milk. I called the kids to put the milk away but 3 of them were playing a game.
I don't like the milk being left out, and I was getting agitated. It wasn't such a big deal for me to put it away, but I think it's important that I get help, or else I become a resentful, nasty person.
I asked where E was and he was outside playing. I kept asking them to do it and they kept being in the middle of the game, and finally I got all huffy, snapped at the room at large, and stomped down with the milk.
When I got up, E had just walked in. And I said, "NOW you walk in?" He was utterly bewildered.
I was thinking this morning how glad I am that I'm not normally like this. It's really unpleasant to live with a mom who is resentful, can't get her needs met, yells, stomps around, and gets angry like that. I remembered a few major times over the course of my parenting when I did that, and different techniques I've used to change my habits. (Including but not limited to: practicing controlling my temper, decluttering, changing my parenting style, reframing expectations, practicing straightforward and direct communication, simplifying my life so that I'm not overwhelmed, streamlining processes, thinking about long term affects of my behavior...)
This morning, Chen (teen) sat me down somberly and told me that she saw that E reacted with some shame when I yelled at him, and she felt that was unfair, since he did nothing wrong. She told me she thinks that in general when I get intense he's particularly susceptible to feeling ashamed, and therefore she thinks I should make an extra effort around him to avoid speaking in those ways. (Even though obviously it would be good if I could avoid doing it to everyone else, too.)
This is part of the trying to stop blaming thing that I've been working on since Rosh Hashana/Yom Kippur this year. I particularly noticed that it's been affecting Elazar.
I thanked Chen (I'm blessed that she has a real gift for speaking to me about things in a way where I don't get defensive. I think part of it is she watched me and Sarah during Sarah's teen years work so hard to de-escalate, and part of it is her natural ability and personality). And she's going to point it out to me when she sees me do it in the future, and I'll try to cut down more.
I was thinking afterwards about how the unschoolers would approach this. (Assuming they would agree that kids "should" help with the groceries, which they do not.) The radical unschoolers have a way of looking at things very creatively. So I realized if I absolutely wanted them to take the milk down later, and I absolutely could not let the milk stay out the 3 minutes until their game was done (which I could have, but I'm anal about milk in the fridge, which is my issue, and not the kids' problem), I actually could have stuck the milk upstairs and then when they were available, they would have been happy to run it down. That would have been a decent solution. Instead, I got resentful and mean.
I'm glad I've been exposed to the radical unschooler way of thinking, even if I only could think of it after the fact. I've had a lot of success running through scenarios in my head that went not well and figuring out what I could have done that would have worked better for me. (Stick that on the list of techniques I use to change my habits..)
I don't like the milk being left out, and I was getting agitated. It wasn't such a big deal for me to put it away, but I think it's important that I get help, or else I become a resentful, nasty person.
I asked where E was and he was outside playing. I kept asking them to do it and they kept being in the middle of the game, and finally I got all huffy, snapped at the room at large, and stomped down with the milk.
When I got up, E had just walked in. And I said, "NOW you walk in?" He was utterly bewildered.
I was thinking this morning how glad I am that I'm not normally like this. It's really unpleasant to live with a mom who is resentful, can't get her needs met, yells, stomps around, and gets angry like that. I remembered a few major times over the course of my parenting when I did that, and different techniques I've used to change my habits. (Including but not limited to: practicing controlling my temper, decluttering, changing my parenting style, reframing expectations, practicing straightforward and direct communication, simplifying my life so that I'm not overwhelmed, streamlining processes, thinking about long term affects of my behavior...)
This morning, Chen (teen) sat me down somberly and told me that she saw that E reacted with some shame when I yelled at him, and she felt that was unfair, since he did nothing wrong. She told me she thinks that in general when I get intense he's particularly susceptible to feeling ashamed, and therefore she thinks I should make an extra effort around him to avoid speaking in those ways. (Even though obviously it would be good if I could avoid doing it to everyone else, too.)
This is part of the trying to stop blaming thing that I've been working on since Rosh Hashana/Yom Kippur this year. I particularly noticed that it's been affecting Elazar.
I thanked Chen (I'm blessed that she has a real gift for speaking to me about things in a way where I don't get defensive. I think part of it is she watched me and Sarah during Sarah's teen years work so hard to de-escalate, and part of it is her natural ability and personality). And she's going to point it out to me when she sees me do it in the future, and I'll try to cut down more.
I was thinking afterwards about how the unschoolers would approach this. (Assuming they would agree that kids "should" help with the groceries, which they do not.) The radical unschoolers have a way of looking at things very creatively. So I realized if I absolutely wanted them to take the milk down later, and I absolutely could not let the milk stay out the 3 minutes until their game was done (which I could have, but I'm anal about milk in the fridge, which is my issue, and not the kids' problem), I actually could have stuck the milk upstairs and then when they were available, they would have been happy to run it down. That would have been a decent solution. Instead, I got resentful and mean.
I'm glad I've been exposed to the radical unschooler way of thinking, even if I only could think of it after the fact. I've had a lot of success running through scenarios in my head that went not well and figuring out what I could have done that would have worked better for me. (Stick that on the list of techniques I use to change my habits..)
Labels:
chinuch,
chores,
discipline,
educational goals,
maturity,
teenager
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