Image by zalouk webdesign
Has anyone ever talked about you behind your back? Or have you done that to someone else? Write about it.
New to freewriting? Check out our online guide.
A Brave Writer’s Life in Brief
Thoughts from my jungle to yours
Pick one thing
May 16th, 2013
Image by andrechinn
You can’t do ten things, and your homeschool won’t transform itself over night.
What you want and what creates momentum is a series of deliberate, prepared choices that lead to a sense of accomplishment and satisfaction. You get there one thing at a time.
Pick the subject, practice, habit, or attitude you wish were more present in your home and “do it” or “have it” or “develop it.”
Identify the One Thing that is top of mind—that keeps coming back to you as the one thing you wish you were living.
Then follow the One Thing principles:
1. Prepare (ahead of time). Plan a date, purchase, make copies, organize, think about, read literature related to your one thing choice. Gather materials.
2. Execute (day of). Follow through with enough time to invest deeply without distraction. Turn off your phone, shut down your computer, don’t answer the door. Be fully present.
3. Enjoy (kids and you). Let yourself forget everything else but that experience/lesson. Be here now. Don’t do other things simultaneously, don’t think ahead to what you will do next. Engage.
4. Reminisce (later that day or the next or next week). Talk about what was fun, remember humor, honor connections, recollect what went well. Talk about when you might do it again.
I gave a podcast about this topic a few months ago. Check it out.
What are they doing now: Liam
May 15th, 2013
Today’s featured Bogart is Liam! He’s my 18 yos, 4th child.
Liam read the earliest of any of the five kids (age 6). I found out he knew how to read when he came into the bedroom one night and spelled, “Gap: g-a-p.” Apparently the source of this amazing revelation was the Gap shopping bag sitting in the hall… for weeks.
Liam taught himself times tables and percentage calculations through online gaming. He had a knack for math for which his father nor I take credit.
We spent most of Liam’s homeschool youth reading about, observing, and owning animals. He attended the Cincinnati zoo programs, we literally visited the zoo multiple times a month for a couple of years, we owned pet rats, two ferrets, and a dog because Liam researched, located, and promised to love and raise them. He is still my main birding partner. We not only watched them at our feeder, but we joined in the Nationwide Christmas Count one year too, joining other local birders. We rescued an injured sparrow and a disease ridden cat, taking them where they could be treated and healed.
I learned to play Yugi-Oh cards so Liam would have a partner, and I read Redwall aloud because Liam loved the books. You should know something about me at this point: I am not naturally interested in animals, pets, or card games where the cards feature characters with special powers. And I’m ashamed to admit that my mind wanders during outloud readings of Redwall.
But that didn’t stop us, and honestly, I have such fond memories of all of these experiences despite my own reluctance, self-doubt, and concern for carpet and furniture.
While reading, calculating, and animal-loving came naturally to Liam, he had difficulty with handwriting. He’s a lefty and we discovered that he suffered from dysgraphia by the age of 9. At that point, we stopped all handwriting and he dictated to me whatever it was he wanted to write or narrate. He did continue a bit with handwriting pages. It wasn’t until he turned 12 that we turned to tutoring with a specialist.
As a freshman in high school, Liam took two classes at the local public school and the rest at home. He then completed high school fulltime in 2 1/2 years, finishing this last January. Liam would say that traditional style education isn’t for him. He much prefers reading whatever he likes and self-educating. Currently he’s got quite a book list going that he reads on his tablet.
One benefit to traditional schooling for Liam, though, was that he joined their chess team. By his senior year, he was “first board” and their team had a great season. I was the only mom who attended the tournaments and watched the games. A little like watching grass grow, if grass jumped four squares and crushed the queen blade.
Liam will travel to Europe for a month. He’s been working at Steak and Shake, and saving money so he can visit his brother (studying in Paris), many of his online friends, and my aunt, uncle, and cousins who live in cities like Copenhagen, Berlin, Prague, Zagreb, and Viareggio.
He isn’t sure what his plans are for the fall, but he’s 18. He’s got loads of time to figure it all out. Just glad he got done with high school early enough to have an adventure.
Cross-posted on facebook.
Tuesday Teatime: Daffodils
May 14th, 2013
Dear Julie,
Thank you for the inspiration to take our teatime to another level. My son was so keen on the idea that he baked scones for our first poetry tea, cut and arranged fresh flowers for the table, and even made up his own poetry during the session. Needless to say, I was a happy mummy! Our first trial has been so successful that my son wants to do it every day if possible.
~Hwee
The Tiger Chronicle
Would you like your family featured on Tuesday teatime?
Email us your teatime photos with a few lines about your experience!
If we select your photo to post then you’ll receive a free Arrow or Boomerang of your choice!
Images from The Tiger Chronicle. Used with permission.
Homeschool in paper form
May 13th, 2013
Image by Muffet
Yesterday I dug through all the old homeschool notebooks in my basement. I paged through copywork, dictation, freewrites, lists, illustrations with written narrations, nature journals, reproductions of paintings, charcoal drawings of African violets, topics for poems (like, “How loud my dad snores”), pages filled with revision notes, math and science pages (I found evidence that we did, in fact, study the scientific method, no matter what my kids say), journal entries, an original script for Gilgamesh, a novella modeled after Emma, handwriting pages, lap books, posters…
It’s all there—our homeschool in paper form.
I even found my journal pages from the months when I began Brave Writer and was writing The Writer’s Jungle. I was fascinated to read my thoughts—worried that I might not have the right angle, wanting to be sure that what I wrote would be useful and a fresh take on writing/coaching, really engaged in examining what it feels like on the inside to be a writer.
In the middle of all these paging-throughs, I read the following in my journal:
“Better tub and scrub the little guys. They played endlessly in the creek the last two days and came home gloriously muddied. Just what a mother loves to see. Caitrin kept putting a muddy hand to her 24/7 headband and had to suffer separation anxiety last night while it sat out to dry after a thorough soaking. Back glued to her head today though.
“Liam is all boy about these things. I told him it was okay to get dirty. He took me fully at my word and brought home feet so thick with mud that I couldn’t see shoes underneath. Then he dribbled bits all over my house. Jacob made “Indian clay pots” that he left to dry… on my computer desk. I revel in this stuff, though. It’s far superior to TV and makes me feel that they are having a real childhood after all.” (February 25, 2000)
It heartened me to read that in the midst of everything else I was doing/thinking about (starting a business, writing a book, homeschooling every day), the highlight of one of those days was mud everywhere—head to toe, in my office, all over the house, up and down my kids’ bodies, wrecking shoes and clothes, requiring baths in the afternoon.
That’s parenting, that’s the whole reason we signed up to have children!
In our eagerness as parents to be dutiful, to foster learning, to make a difference in the world, to be “good parents” raising “good children,” I want to remind you: keep your eye on the ball.
Ball = kids.
Ball = happy.
Ball = mess.
Ball = wet.
Ball = serendipity.
Ball = living in this moment, today.
Ball = celebrating childishness.
Ball = gifts of mud pots on your computer desk.
Ball = smiling back at smiling children.
Ball = noticing, remembering, valuing, honoring.
Today: value your children as children.
- Choose not to take anything they say personally.
- Put your house last.
- Forget “training” or “obedience” or “discipline.”
- Cherish this chance to connect… and then connect, and connect again.
- Relish the person your child is today because today becomes tomorrow and that child changes and grows up.
- Be happy when your child is happy.
Then write “today” somewhere, and tuck it away… and like a time capsule, your preserved memory in words will come back to keep you company years from now, when you need it, when you’ve forgotten about today, when the house is all tidy and empty and silent and obedient and no longer muddy.
Cross-posted on facebook.
Friday Freewrite: My Mom
May 10th, 2013
Image by Tammy Wahl. Used with permission.
Describe your mom.
New to freewriting? Check out our online guide.
Mother’s Day is around the corner
May 9th, 2013
So I’m thinking about mothers.
I remember sitting at United Dairy Farmers eating mint chip ice cream with a bunch of my homeschooling friends after support group one night. Someone made a comment about her mother. A derisive one. A “we all know this is true” kind of off-the-cuff critique. It was made with warmth and humor, though the sentiment of frustration was real.
What followed was a cascade of “knowing” remarks about our mothers.
“She’s so controlling.”
“She never did approve of homeschooling so I just try not to talk about it.”
“My mother—she still doesn’t get it.”
“My mom treats me like I’m fifteen! It’s like I never grew up.”
On and on the comments went. Most of the time there was laughter, but behind the laughs I knew there was pain. These daughters had memories of not being heard or understood. They had ongoing evidence that the choices they were making today didn’t meet with their mother’s approval. Ouch. Even if the daughters loved their moms (and they did, absolutely!), they still felt that sting that comes from parental disapproval.
I listened along. The conversation shifted at one point to kids. Now we were griping good-naturedly about how our kids were making ridiculous choices or were resisting our better ideas or couldn’t fulfill their responsibilities and we were put upon to do things for them.
In one of those “Matrix-style” moments, I saw reality split.
We were mothers, resenting our mothers, for not allowing us to make our own choices, for not respecting our skill to live our own lives, for thinking they knew better than we did all the time, and for conveying it in a way that caused pain.
On the flip side, our kids were behaving in ways that we didn’t like and had plans for the future we found unnerving and they didn’t like our advice. We were belittling our kids among ourselves… which made me wonder if that belittlement wasn’t also felt by those same kids, like these adults felt about their own childhoods.
After some time went by, I finally spoke up.
“You know, I hope our kids don’t talk about us the way we just talked about our moms. And I hope we don’t behave to our kids in the ways we resent in our moms.”
Of course, I have a really awesome mom. I don’t spend much time resenting or talking negatively about her. She modeled for me what it means to be supportive and to trust me, and she gives space for me to be who I need to be. I feel like an adult around her. Consequently, I try to be that for my kids because I want them saying good stuff about me to their friends.
So as Mother’s Day approaches, maybe ask yourself: “How do I want my kids to talk about me behind my back?” And then adjust how you mother and love accordingly.
Cross-posted on facebook.
Be your child’s writing coach
May 8th, 2013
One of the most important parts of being a writing coach in your children’s lives is finding a way to convey appreciation for the original writing while conveying important information that might grow or enhance the writing. This delicate balance can be achieved when you deliberately respect the original writing.
One way you show respect is to *not* write on it. You can read it as it is and when you do decide to put feedback or corrections on the paper, you do so on a photocopy of the original. You preserve the original, and comment on a copy.
Secondly, you can use pencil on that photocopy to convey changes or suggested enhancements rather than pen. Your child can erase comments that don’t feel helpful, and the pencil gives the impression of suggestion rather than demand.
Thirdly, write positive comments on the photocopy, not just corrections. Underline great phrases, circle good word choices, put an exclamation point next to an idea that impresses you. You can tell your child your code for conveying your approval. It’s also nice to jot positive notes, like, “Excellent use of dialog” or “This is a well-chosen fact” or “I like how you incorporate your personal experience…”
Lastly, remind your young writers that they don’t have to take your corrections—it’s their right as authors. They can pick and choose what to apply to their work. You might mention that picking one or two to apply is a good habit to get into, but try not to press your case. Give this point as information, not as parent-to-child command.
My comment to you about that last item: don’t worry if your kids don’t apply all of your suggestions. The mistakes they leave in their writing will magically reappear at a later date to be addressed again. And if they don’t, then you’ve spared yourself having to “argue” about a point they internalized and corrected independently in future pieces.
Respect the writer (preserve the original writing).
Respect the writing (use a photocopy and pencil for feedback).
Offer feedback (positive and corrective) in a spirit of support.
Allow the writer to determine how to apply the feedback.
Simple!
Cross-posted on facebook
Image by bennthewolfe
Tuesday Teatime: Jamberry
May 7th, 2013
Zach (7) enjoys Tea Time Tuesdays. I am not sure if he enjoys the food or the poems better. We are very low key, the only requirements are the food (including a beverage that is almost never tea!) and the poems. Jamberry by Bruce Degen is a favorite along with tongue twisters, How much wood can a woodchuck chuck…
I saw a Facebook post on baby mugging and thought it would be a perfect Tea Time photo along with one of our favorite Tea Time books. Who wouldn’t want a big ‘ol mug of cute kid?
~Sara
Would you like your family featured on Tuesday teatime? Email us your teatime photos with a few lines about your experience! If we select your photo to post then you’ll receive a free Arrow or Boomerang of your choice!
