Archive for the ‘Young Writers’ Category

Professor Lena’s Guide to Modern Celery

Monday, April 22nd, 2013

Julie, I have been using your Writer’s Jungle writing activities in my school and the kids loved the drawing activity. Last week we did the senses activity using celery and I was surprised by the change in my 12 year old’s descriptions and her excitement to get started. She got her creative juices flowing and really stopped listening to the instruction but I consider what she wrote a success because she was engaged and interested. She was so proud of herself that she asked me to share it with you after typing it up herself. So here it is. Thank you.

Celery fight!

Professor Lena’s Guide to Modern Celery

By Lena Kerley

I am studying celery, and someone else might say green, but I say it looks like layers of white with thin layers of sheer green leaf piled neatly together. On the inside it is bowled up like an Indians canoe, and paler than the outside where the sun reaches. On that side (the outside) the celery has small ridges that go down the stalk long ways. The leaves look like cilantro leaves, the way they appear old and wrinkled but also fresh and new. The smell is not my favorite, it reminds me of freshly cut grass and sweat. Currently beside me my seven year old brother is dissecting celery and showing some of the more hidden features, like if you cut the whole bunch at the base you will see a yellow flowery like piece. That is actually the leaves that have not yet emerged into view. He also describes the celery as feeling like a rubber hose. I have tried celery and don’t like the flavor so to learn about how celery tastes read Katie Kerley’s The Celery on the Table (not published) or Celery Puzzle by Pam Kerley (not published). I am honored that you (the reader) have made it to this sentence.

P.S. Celery is a good tool for annoying big sisters. (I am writing that as a big sister).

For weekend web surfers: tips for young writers

Saturday, April 6th, 2013

64 / 365 ~ 2013

A few tips to remember about your especially young writers (6-8):

1. The best curriculum for this age is still face paints and dress up clothes. Play, exploration, acting out—these teach. Trust the process.

2. Riddles, jokes, rhymes, poems, puns, secrets, mysteries, the alphabet (write it big, write it small, write it backwards, write it with chalk on the driveway, write it one letter per page, fit all the letters on a post-it note, write every other letter – not easy!), names (family, pets, streets, cities, imaginary friends, real friends, favorite characters). Play, explore, write, say, pretend with all of these, often, as much as you can.

3. For original writing: they talk, you write it down. End of discussion. Unless they are choosing to write their own thoughts on their own, you have no obligation to get them to write their own thoughts in their own hand by themselves. If they are writing their own thoughts, hug them—be a fan. Not a word of criticism about spelling, handwriting, story completion, or logic. Just kudos for the surprise of their self-starting joy!

4. For transcription: a handwriting book, very simple copywork (one word a day can be more than enough for some kids), French dictation (explained in BW products), copying their own stories (only have them copy a paragraph, a sentence at a time, or more if THEY choose, but don’t require more in one sitting).

5. Read read read TO your kids OUTLOUD, everything you see—billboards, refrigerator magnets, ads in magazines you are paging through, funny comments on Facebook as you scroll through your feed, the text your husband just sent, the preface to a book, the instructions for the XBox, newspaper briefs, the side of the spice jar, the back of the muffin mix, the clever tag line on the shoe box… And yes, read quality literature aloud too. But read everything aloud… freely, often, commenting, laughing about it, noticing it.

6. Pair odious tasks with brownies and hugs.

7. Get outside, have big experiences, explore the world. For heaven’s sake, don’t worry yet. You’ll get to worry so much in the teen years and pine for these early years. So I’m here to tell you—play, explore, enjoy. Pick a fruit no one has ever eaten and eat it. Go to the zoo 3 times a week or the beach or the woods, if you dare. Make recipes for sludge and slime and baking soda volcanoes. No worrying.

That’s it. Really. Math isn’t my thing, but you can figure that out I’m sure. As my wise homeschool mom friend said to me: “Any math book teaches 1+1. Heck, we can do it ourselves.” :)

 

Happy Saturday!

The Jot It Down product is perfect for these ages.


Image by Tammy Wahl. Used with permission.

Retelling: details or summary or both?

Monday, February 4th, 2013

DSCN2157.JPG
 
Great phone call today. Here’s the gist:

Mom: What do I do when my son retells the details of a book or movie or story, but he can’t tell me the overarching narrative that goes with it? Like he can’t say the main plot points. He rambles and gets caught up in details that are non-essential to the plot, but he tells them with so much accuracy and depth, I hate to stop him.

Her son is 11.

My response:
Adults summarize. They can pick out the main points and sequence them. They’ve read 1000s of stories, watched as many films, and are well aware of the narrative arc (plot diagram) by virtue of time on the planet and years logged reading/absorbing “story.”

Kids don’t have this background, and can’t summarize like you. They’re younger. Story is fresh for them. They are beguiled by subplots and character quirks and twists. They chase the shiny object called “weapons,” “cute puppies,” “sassy friends,” “weird creatures,” “magic spells” or “epic battles” and report all that is filling their imaginations to the brink of enthusiasm. When you ask them to tell you about the story, the most exciting, fascinating points overflow. They can’t “sort” the images and emotions. They aren’t likely to sequence events into the narrative arc. They retell the memorable moments, with detail, reliving them in front of you.

Of course, most adults have completely lost the ability to trap details to that extent. Our brains are too busy for detail. We save the important markers and ditch the quirky dialog or style of weaponry. Children can retell with amazing accuracy.. We have too many digits, words, experiences, memories, obligations in the way of uncluttered retelling. We hang onto the big picture and file it under “mental notecard” – as in, if asked, this is what I share.

Being able to summarize is a fairly sophisticated skill. It is possible to cultivate, but please don’t think it a superior skill to retelling in detail. For now, here’s how I want you to proceed:

Start by listening, really closely. Ask real questions that help you understand who, what, where, and when as the child relates the particular scene. You can jot down the responses on separate sheets of paper per scene or image or dialog. Keep these on a table in front of you. Ask for key details (names, places, why such-and-such happened).

Print a plot diagram (a simple one).

Then, with these notes in front of you both, ask some of these questions to help sort the information just shared:

1. Pick up one of the stories: Did this event happen at the beginning, or in the middle, or near the end of the story/film/book? Move the note you took to the right place on the table along the narrative arc. Do that for each of the scenes you’ve jotted down.

2. Ask the child what moment decided the outcome (the climax)? It may be difficult to identify the single one (there are lots of sub-plots in most stories). But the BIG one happens near the end. So direct your child’s attention to the end of the plot line. You can even discuss ones that were important along the way, but weren’t the final key determining factor. That’s a good conversation to have!

3. Talk about the characters. Which character is the most important to the story (without whom, there would be no story)? It’s usually obvious, but not always! The main character is called “the protagonist” and that is the one who is a part of the climax. We figure out who is important by how much we care about what happens to that character. A guide to identifying that character, then, is “Whose story do we care the most about?” Of course, your child may love a character in the subplot, but then you can expand backwards and say, “Who do you think the author wants us to care most about?” That will help differentiate.

4. Now talk about the antagonist (the character that wants to thwart the goal of the main character). Who stands to gain by interrupting the progress of the protagonist?

5. Lastly, ask about the events your child narrated to you. Are these related to the protagonist’s plight? Or are they about side-kick characters? If they are “side-kick characters,” we call these scenes part of the “sub-plot.” A sub-plot keeps the story interesting, adds detail to the main plot, and supplies a distraction or complication when the author needs one. Figure out whether the memorable scenes are plot or subplot.

Once you’ve collected this data, see if you can put it in a meaningful whole. You might narrate back to your child all the information you’ve collected and demonstrate what it means to put it in sequence. Once you’ve done that, you can ask your child to correct you, add to it, or try his/her own hand at it! Overtime, you can ask the child to take over and create the narration from this material from scratch.

What I hope you’ll take from this post:
Work with what your kids give you! Help them sort it out. Model what it looks like when it matches what you are hoping to hear. Then give them the chance to do it, with your help. Do not abandon your child to your expectations and then wring your hands when they fail. Teach! That’s your job and your privilege.

Sick Day

Friday, January 11th, 2013

DSCN5272 It’s that time of year where we all start sniffling and coughing. Shel Silverstein to the rescue! Use this poem for copywork or poetry teatime or just to read aloud for the sheer joy of it.

Sick, by Shel Silverstein

“I cannot go to school today,”
Said little Peggy Ann McKay.
“I have the measles and the mumps,
A gash, a rash and purple bumps.
My mouth is wet, my throat is dry,
I’m going blind in my right eye.
My tonsils are as big as rocks,
I’ve counted sixteen chicken pox
And there’s one more–that’s seventeen,
And don’t you think my face looks green?
My leg is cut–my eyes are blue–
It might be instamatic flu.
I cough and sneeze and gasp and choke,
I’m sure that my left leg is broke–
My hip hurts when I move my chin,
My belly button’s caving in,
My back is wrenched, my ankle’s sprained,
My ‘pendix pains each time it rains.
My nose is cold, my toes are numb.
I have a sliver in my thumb.
My neck is stiff, my voice is weak,
I hardly whisper when I speak.
My tongue is filling up my mouth,
I think my hair is falling out.
My elbow’s bent, my spine ain’t straight,
My temperature is one-o-eight.
My brain is shrunk, I cannot hear,
There is a hole inside my ear.
I have a hangnail, and my heart is–what?
What’s that? What’s that you say?
You say today is. . .Saturday?
G’bye, I’m going out to play!”

5 tips to get you back in gear

Wednesday, January 2nd, 2013

DSCN3023.JPG Happy New Year, Brave Writer families!

Too bad we can’t settle into a “long winter’s nap” right about now. January insists that you be productive, so let’s look at 5 ways to do it that I hope are relatively painfree.

If you live down under: You just finished your big holiday and it’s summer vacation. Rock it! Have a great time. We in the north envy you, but we know it’s well deserved.

  1. Coziness first
    It’s winter in the northern hemisphere. Everyone is nicer to each other under cuddly blankets or with fires roaring or with tea and candles. Don’t “hit the workbooks” so much as invite everyone back to the routine with a little attention to snuggling and pleasing natural light. Remember that winter can create a sinking feeling—moodiness, depression, pessimism, loneliness—all due to loss of sunlight. So bring some inside and warm up the space. Keeping tables and counters clear seems to matter more in winter too.

  2. Read alouds second
    Nothing says “gentle return to education” like a new novel to read together. Pick something you loved as a child (not a new novel). This is “comfort food” time. Find the joy in the novels of your youth (pair it with The Arrow, if we have an issue created for it). This month’s issue (Jan 2013) is for Little Town on the Prairie (my favorite children’s book series of all time). You might also love reading Wind in the Willows to help foster the coziness you need (how can you resist Mole’s home?). Check out the Already Published Issues of The Arrow for more ideas.

    For older kids, you might simply designate a time that everyone reads to themselves at the same time. Shared reading time, with a fire, is amazingly intimate. It creates a dynamic of valuing literature and private reading experience, while also giving the home a moment of silence (akin to when a newborn baby is sleeping and a hush comes over the space). The Boomerang Already Published Issues is a great place to find titles to read.

  3. Make one plan
    Plan ahead and execute the One Thing you’ve been meaning to do all fall but never got to it. Check out our blog entry on how to focus on one thing at a time.
  4. Go on a field trip to…
    A nature center, a ski lodge, the library, an art museum, the movie theater, the zoo, a restaurant from another culture, your best friend’s house, McDonald’s playland (yes, sometimes that’s even a good idea in January), a shopping trip to China Town, or Little Saigon, or the Italian Quarter. Pick one. Plan it. Do it. Get OUT of the house.
  5. Add one novelty item to your homeschool
    This could be a new set of watercolors with an easel. You might purchase a whole set of dinosaur cookie cutters to go with your dinosaur unit and you will make playdoh and do cut outs. Maybe you add a bird feeder to the nearby tree and spend some time each day noting which birds show up. Get a new strategy board game or several decks of cards and teach everyone Solitaire. Even a new sled (for outside) or a mini trampoline (for the garage or basement) can inject some lively activity when you start to feel trapped indoors.

The main thing to remember is that January is the middle of the year. You can actually plug along nicely in your traditional education work (math, science, grammar work, reading, writing) because the quieter, slower months are conducive to all of that. Just remember to not let cabin fever take over. In those moments, remind yourself of this list and pick ONE to do!

Know your kids as they are

Tuesday, October 23rd, 2012


Just the other day, I read a plea from a desperate mother of a nine-year-old girl who hates school. The mother felt helpless, hurt, and angry. She appealed to her email loop for support and advice. The first email reply went through the “nurturing model”—

  • rock her in a rocking chair,
  • don’t worry about school,
  • she’s young still,
  • enjoy precious moments,
  • help her to feel comfortable and happy in your home with less school pressure

…etc.

The very next reply was a 180 degree turn. This mother offered a list of quotes out of Train up a Child. The first one said roughly, “Don’t make rules you won’t enforce.” And of course, if you make a rule, require obedience. Suggestions of penalties followed:

  • time outs,
  • wooden spoon spankings,
  • withdrawal of TV or computer privileges.

These two positions were so opposite to one another, I found myself laughing out loud. What kind of parents are we? It seems to me that the real issues are often missed in these discussions. We parents are so quick to evaluate the behavior of our kids and then to look to each other for “tricks” or “tips” on how to “deal with them.” The desperate mother is asking the wrong questions to the wrong people.

The Inner Lives of Our Children
The inner lives of our children ought to be the object of our quest. When they throw routine tantrums and say outrageous hurtful things, why aren’t we asking where that’s coming from? So often we just want to squelch the behavior—extinguish it like a sputtering candle.

Can we know our kids from the inside out? Will they talk to us? Some kids have no trouble telling us their needs or hardships. Others are completely tongue-tied—stuck perhaps in the non-verbal mode of relating to themselves—aware of problems and feelings but unable to articulate them or to even identify them.

Instead of rules enforcement versus nurturing to the point of “catering to,” how about investigation and support/compassion? How about encouragement and understanding? Are we willing to know our kids as they actually are rather than to simply apply labels for behavior, or symbols for their season of life, or rules for their “own good”? What if we become fascinated by the complexity of our kids, rather than worried about it?

Sweet Noah
I remember when Noah (my oldest) was 10-years-old and he struggled with writing. His attitude showed that he was demoralized (even after “all I’ve done for him” to make it easier). My ego got flustered and irritated.

He was violating my system.

He was invalidating my work.

But my spirit knew differently. I suddenly saw that Noah must have  had real reasons that made sense to him about why writing was continuing to feel hard… It was a moment. I flipped my point of view away from wondering where I went wrong or why he couldn’t validate my efforts, to what was going on inside of him. So I asked him with gentleness and true interest:

“Noah, what’s wrong? What is bothering you?”

Do you know that for the first time, tears of shame and earnest self-displeasure surfaced? He felt badly that he couldn’t please me by “getting it” more quickly. This reminded me of feelings I had as a girl when my father tried to help me with math homework and I just “didn’t get it.” My dad got so frustrated with me, thinking he’d been clear (I’m sure he was!). But I felt desperate inside. I couldn’t validate him. I could only fail in his presence and make him miserable. What an awful feeling—to know your parent is trying to help and you can’t translate that help into success! The only way forward is to shut down, if there is no entry point for discussion or honest communication of scary internal feelings. I feared I wasn’t smart. I didn’t want my dad to know that about me. So I clammed up.

Noah’s weren’t tears of frustration or anger or anxiety about writing specifically. I could tell. He said to me,

“You’re a writer. You and Dad talk about it all the time. You teach it. No matter how much you tell me that you aren’t worried about how well I write, I still know that you’d be happier if I wrote well. And I want to do it but know I can’t.”

More tears.

Wow. So honest. So risky!

The only respectful reply at that point was silence. I saw. I didn’t have an explanation, or more information to throw at him, or even good ideas, or defenses for how wrong his perceptions were. I saw. And in seeing, I knew that all I really had to offer was compassionate support. A hug. A kind, understanding smile of sympathy.

So I told Noah that I loved him, appreciated his openness in risking those words out loud, and I offered to do whatever it took to support him in finding his own way out of those oppressive feelings. It was a moment.

My real job at home
I suddenly realized that my true job as a mother was to care more than anyone else about the interior lives of my kids. I wanted to be there to watch, encourage, and do what it took to support them in triumphing over the hurdles they faced. Noah gave me a gift. He articulated his feelings in a way that I could understand them. Lucky me! Here was an instance where Noah’s self-awareness and verbal capacity helped him—and even realizing that—that he could find his words when he felt safe and cared for—helped me know he’d write well one day.

Not all of our kids can express themselves as easily in words. We want to remember to listen beneath the words, or to help find the words for our other kids when they get that stuck. Or at minimum, we can offer a comforting response like,

“It must be so frustrating to not be able to express what’s bothering you right now.”

Noah and I talked for 45 minutes the next day about his writing project on roller coasters that he’d begun, and the change was dramatic. He felt freer to ask for help, to try my ideas, and he knew I was relaxed and happy with him. We did the work together, and I watched him go to the computer to write with relief and success. I was humbled by that. It struck me that he found a way to relieve the pressure of those “illegal” feelings, and then with my kindness and companionship, writing followed.

That may not be the exact sequence in your family. However,

relief,

light,

hope,

intimacy,

and optimism

may follow.

Those are good too.

09 Interview with author Melissa Wiley

Tuesday, September 11th, 2012

Today’s podcast (podcast player at the bottom of this entry) features children’s author and home educator, Melissa Wiley. Melissa and I met in 2005 online and instantly formed a wonderful connection around writing and homeschool. Her most recent children’s novel, The Prairie Thief, is the featured title for the October Arrow. You may purchase it here: The Prairie Thief at Amazon.com

Check out Melissa’s website and blog, too. Her blog, Here in the Bonny Glen, is a treasure trove of home education insight, poetry sharing, and reviews of her favorite children’s books. You might enjoy reading her entry titled “Hurrah for Brave Writer,” too.

Feel free to ask questions in the comments. I’ll have Melissa answer, if they are directed to her.
 
 
 
 
 

authorphotowiley
I loved my conversation with Melissa so much, we rolled right by our usual 30 minute time limit and chatted for nearly an hour! I hope you enjoy getting to know Melissa as much as I have. We’re offering a special deal for the issue of The Arrow that goes with The Prairie Thief, which will be published on October 1, 2012.

If you’d like to purchase The Prairie Thief Arrow as an individual purchase (year long and monthly subscribers will get it automatically with their subscriptions), send an email to me with “The Prairie Thief Arrow” in the subject line. I’ll be sure to send you details of how to purchase it on October 1, 2012.

 

Do a little violence to words

Thursday, September 6th, 2012

Homeschool tip of the day:
It’s about time we take back our power in language. We are not controlled by Mrs. Cox, the ghost of public school past sitting on our left shoulders. We are free. We are at home. Let’s figure out how to make writing a freeing, liberating, sparkly experience, shall we?

You know how we let our kids take apart an old phone or toaster to see how it’s made, to learn how to use a screw driver, and to have the satisfaction of working on a “real” household item? That’s a great thing, isn’t it? Little screws lying on the ground, bits of wire, the metal tray, the coils that heat… It’s amazing to see it in pieces and to marvel at the fact that someone knew how to put these bits of metal and wire together to make a tool that burns our toast! Taking the toaster apart is more effective to teach us about the toaster than studying it in a book or even making toast, right?

Some of us have rooms dedicated to art exploration—a similar freedom to discover. We might keep an easel, paints and brushes available any time, a tray of pastels or colored pencils, and stacks of scratch paper.

Still others of us will collect musical instruments—percussion and piano, recorders and flutes, and two kinds of guitars! Or maybe we’re the kind of family who has a whole slew of balls, frisbees, hockey sticks, hoops, and goals available to practice a favorite sport or to learn a new one.

We know that play and exploration produce learning.

By contrast, we’re reluctant to play with, take apart, explore, and mess with language. Why? I don’t know. Perhaps it’s the grammar hangover from school where teachers are more about accuracy than inspiration.

Flip the script.

What if your house had an accuracy-free play-zone for words? What would be in it? How about a variety of writing utensils (gel pens, fountain pens, markers, sidewalk chalk, calligraphy quills, crayons, lipstick)? How about some unique writing surfaces (butcher paper taped in a big sheet to a wall, dry erase board, chalkboard, clipboard, various sizes of lined paper, cards, notecards, postcards, an iPad, a mirror, colored paper)?

How about making a stack of notecards with all the words you like—a whole big mixture of words you collect for a week, one per card?

How about putting individual punctuation marks on notecards (a comma card, a period card, an exclamation point card, a quotation marks card, a question marks card – or several of each!)? Then use your word notecards to make a sentence and lay the punctuation marks where you want them to go. Walk around the room and lay them out on the floor. If you want, you can use big poster boards rather than tiny notecards.

Begin by punctuating it all wrong, first. See what happens when you start a sentence with a period or an exclamation point? What if you put one in the middle of the sentence?

What new uses of these marks can you think of?

Are you getting the idea? Language is not meant to be treated like an antiseptic vaccine. It’s a toy! Play with it! See what happens. Discover how the pieces of language and writing work together to create meaning and joy, communication and inspiration.

10 tips for the lazy writer

Thursday, August 23rd, 2012

Writing tip of the day:

There are tips, practices, tools, and helps that make writing easier. Don’t believe for a minute that your kids are lazy.

Here are ten ways to provoke writing today:

    1. Gel pens and black paper

    2. Instant Message with your child

    3. Text with your child

    4. Write a sentence on a white board that is provocative yet unfinished, like “If I could design today, I would….”

    5. Write together (at the table, everyone at the same time)

    6. Write at the mall, jotting down fashion fails and snippets of ridiculous conversation

    7. Give shoulder massages before writing to everyone (do it in a circle and then switch directions)

    8. Write on a clipboard, under a table, lying on a trampoline, up in a tree, with sidewalk chalk on the driveway

    9. Comment on 5 status updates on Facebook

    10. Rewrite the ending to a favorite movie or book (make it melodramatic, sad, angry, happy, or include aliens)

Writing is about freedom to express without the pressure that comes from straight jacket formats. Formats are only helpful once kids feel FREE to write. Let me say it again: You can’t produce good writing that fits a format until you’ve spent hundreds of hours writing without caring one whit about format. Once you feel as easy writing as you do talking, formats are a snap of the fingers to teach and follow.

So play with words today.

Pat Schneider on honoring geniuses

Thursday, August 9th, 2012

My goodness. How can I not share this today?

“Genius often emerges where there is intimate support for it. Shakespeare worked in the intimate supportive community of a strong theater that wanted his next play. Dickinson worked within the intimate community of a family that loved her and protected her time and privacy. Neither of them were seen by their contemporaries as being greatly gifted. It seems truly important that there be a community of support around the artist that protects the making of art” (Pat Schneider *Writing Alone and With Others* xxi).

This quote struck me this morning as I work on the Partnership Writing product. What I know about homeschooling families is that they are uniquely intimate. That’s not to say there isn’t intimacy in families with kids in public or private schools. Rather, home education creates a context where genius can thrive. Why? Because there are no other people on the planet who are as predisposed to recognize the particular genius of children as the parents of those same little people.

Every time I speak, I’m inundated with mothers who share with me the brilliance of their kids—the breadth of imagination, the depth of vocabulary, the surprising accumulation of facts that the parent never saw the child amassing. Over and over again, parents marvel at who lives inside the skin of their children.

It’s from that appreciation, that “what a miracle is my child” posture that writing growth can occur! We are not fighting for success in grammar and punctuation. Our mission is not the proper execution of essays. We are not charged with critiquing and down-dressing our children for what appears to be lethargy or ineptitude.

Our chief mission at home with our children is to discover and articulate their particular brilliances, and then to fiercely protect the space into which they cast their risky thoughts so that they may take the tentative steps toward refining that genius, knowing they are emotionally supported and respected.

You get to do that work! Not a school. Not a theater company. But like Emily Dickinson’s family, you may provide for your children the emotionally safe, enthusiastically prepared environment that allows for risk-taking, failure, exaggeration, and blossoming—all in one.

Geniuses. That’s who you’re raising. Make sure you remember that today.