Science Frustration; Econ Surprise

Physical science continues to elude us.

We have been using the Prentice Hall California Physical Science text. I chose to use this classroom text for a few reasons. First, since SJ plans to attend high school, I wanted him to stay close to at least one traditional textbook so he can learn how to maximize his learning through it. Second, I know squat about science and pretty much need to be walked through myself. Thought I could manage an 8th grade text.

As we work through a chapter, we read together. We front load the reading by reviewing headings and subheadings. We look at the illustrations and photos. We review section questions. SJ completes either the supplemental workbook questions or writes two-column notes.

Apparently, that's not enough. After a dismal showing on a (open-book) chapter assessment, I would be lying if I didn't admit to discouragement. That pesky reading comprehension issue reared its ugly head. Or did it? Could it be that I'm just a lousy science teacher? I will admit it is difficult to get excited about Changes in Matter when I really don't care nor understand what that means.

That along with the disappointing Chem1000 experimental kit I blogged about previously have left me feeling frustrated with science in particular and with learning difficulties in specific. It helped to speak with my Handler who has 1) had a similar experience with the Chem500 kit, and 2) offered a few new front loading suggestions to help with word recognition and, hopefully, comprehension. Our school's director also told me that others have struggled with the text we are using and is sending another to try.

Still. I had hoped that all the one-on-one time, the discussions, the heart I've poured out would solve all the learning issues. I thought I could fix it. It seems there is this delicate balance between denial and reality when it comes to LDs. I have absolutely no doubt my son will succeed in life. He will find his place. BUT...he does have to pass tests to get his high school diploma.

We ended the week with what turned out to be a fun economic assignment. His workbook asked him to compare a few particular food items' prices from 1970 to today's prices. We started at Winco where he surveyed the items. He then calculated the percentage change and was surprised to note that the cost for a pound of coffee has increased by 667% in 40 years. Yikes. It got me thinking how else we could use this assigment.

I asked him how much he thought things might cost in another 40 years given the same rate of increase. That lead to a discussion of how we would set up an equation to figure that out, a hunt for a mark-up formula (on Google), and a depressing realization that coffee will cost $53.54 per pound when he is 53 years old. With milk expected to be over $20 per gallon (can you imagine?), SJ mused that he would probably have to go hungry as an adult and felt a little defeated about his future.

To be fair, I suggested we compare salaries from 1970 and 2010, apply the same change formulas and then figure out how much he might make in 2050 to afford said coffee. Would you believe that average salaries have outpaced costs? He cheered up when he noted he might bring in $619,237 per year to afford his golden milk.

We topped off the assignment by graphing the results for a visual. I stumbled upon this CreateAGraph site that allowed us to choose a type of graph and plot our values. It made for a nice ending visual and a positive end to our week.

Weekly Wrap-Up: Progress and Flexibility

 

Progress

As we settle into our routine it is easy to get complacent in the drudgery of daily work. It crossed my mind the other night as I washed dishes that I am supposed to be schooling a struggling learner, that my blog was to be devoted to the unique challenges of reaching one with comprehension deficiencies.

Strange that I hadn’t thought of my son’s struggles in weeks. Sure, he balks at work that interrupts his play, that pushes him beyond easy. He makes mistakes on his assignments. He avoids the harder work. But is that a struggling learner? Or is he simply a learner?

Before homeschooling, I read a number of opinions that noted learning difficulties often disappear with personal instruction.  It is probably too early to make a declaration, but it sure seems that might be the case. We spend the bulk of our time together tearing apart text—examining titles and subheadings, noting structure and key points.

At the start of the year, SJ stared blankly at a page of text and appeared overwhelmed by the volume of characters and graphics. In school, this was called a deficiency in reading comprehension. Now, I see him engage, with help still, diving into the text and recognizing it as blocks of information that could be useful. Could it be that he just didn’t have the tools to comprehend? It can be hard to tell in this one-on-one environment but just as I knew when he was struggling, I think I can trust my instinct that tells me he is beginning to thrive.

Flexibility

It’s always disconcerting to receive a call for immediate help, especially so when you have kids to pick up from school and homework to rearrange.

I had to say a quick ‘thank you’ to our homeschool schedule on Tuesday when my mother-in-law called in the morning to tell me they were moving in two days and could use our help…like now. They live one and a half hours away.

We have fallen into a nice rhythm during the week and I didn’t want to interrupt it, but recognized that some things are more important than others. Grammar can be done on Wednesdays. Science lessons wait.  Grandparents won’t be here forever.

We ditched our lesson plan and trekked up to their home. While I packed up the kitchen, SJ worked alongside his papa in the garage. When I had a chance to peek out at their progress, there was SJ atop a ladder, disassembling racks, or doing some heavy lifting all the while bantering with his grandpa—my fears of him standing idly by put to rest. I’m pretty sure the lessons he learned on Tuesday trumped any schoolwork I could have thrown his way.

It's Working....It's Working

Homeschooling is as much about faith as it is about academics. Faith that the method we choose will eventually lead to learning. Faith that our children will accidentally learn something from us or his world. Faith that we are doing the right thing. Inherent in the faith concept is that we walk without sight most of the time. It's a good day when we see a glimmer of a result.

I love the scene in the movie, What About Bob?, where Bill Murray works at taking "baby steps." It's become almost a mantra in my life when I face hard things. My SJ gave me some hope this week that those "baby steps" might lead to a crawl.

I've taken the gamble to really back off from anything that looks like school and approach learning in an eclectic fashion, using what life presents. With only a month of school left, we've also taken this as an opportunity to try freebie programs and sites I've run across through other homeschoolers.

Yesterday, for instance, was consumer math day. We started by comparison shopping for a washer and dryer. SJ wasn't all that engaged but he did listen in as my friend and I grilled the salespeople as to features, benefits, and costs of the machines. Afterward, when I asked him what he learned, he made the observation that one salesperson seemed to know his product better and therefore gave him (SJ) greater confidence. A valuable insight? Absolutely.

Next was grocery store math. From the first aisle to the last, I saw a distinct click as SJ went from reluctant to engaged. It was the Pizza Rolls that did it. "Hey Mom, these would only cost $.07 each," he proved. "If I eat 20 of them, it would only cost $1.40 for lunch, compared to $2 for a public school lunch." He got the Pizza Rolls simply on the merit of doing the math. (As you might expect, our next lesson looked at the serving size vs. the calories.) It seems that personal interest is a great motivator.

We read our receipts to make sure we didn't get "ripped off" and wondered together why Heinz vinegar cost double the store brand. 

I know it doesn't seem like much, but for me, it's enough. It's a constant urge not to blaze ahead and succumb to the pressures of traditional "school." If I look at others in a full-on sprint, I still wonder if we will ever get there but I have to trust this process. One friend, whose kids share my son's learning challenge, peppers me with dubious questions. "If you aren't using textbooks, how are you teaching him?" Fair question. But how does one begin to explain? I hardly believed it myself.

I'll Take That Glimmer of Hope

Two things happened this week. Well, three, if you count SJ's surgery.

Because of the surgery (a minor procedure), we had no choice but to lay low this past week. I purchased an online reading comprehension program, Learning Upgrade. It's what educators are calling "artificially intelligent," where it feeds the student concepts only to the level they can/have mastered. It won't let a student advance until he is at least proficient.  I handed over the laptop and took a shower. Usually, I would expect to find that he has moved on to something much more intellectually stimulating when my back turns, say the Legos site. Imagine my surprise to find him working through his second and third levels of the program. Ping.

Next, I scrapped the paperback reading book and offered him stacks of Popular Science, Breakaway, and various cycling magazines. I told him he needed to read for 1/2 hour, just like if he were reading a book. An hour and a half later, I had to pull him away from the magazines. Ping ping.

I found what I thought was a super cool visual dictionary site called Visuwords. If you have a visual learner (middle school or above), I would recommend checking it out. It uses colors and shapes to make connections to word parts, definitions, synonyms, and more. Thinking we were on a roll, I introduced the site and watched as SJ promptly switched off. Not successful. Move on.

He had fun with a site full of "brain games" also beneficial for we adults who fear losing our acuity. Many of the games are similar to exercises he did in vision therapy. Sometimes we have to redefine our ideas about "play." He may have accidentally sharpened his thought processes on Lumosity.com. Oh well.

But these weren't the two things I refer to in my title. I lead him to all of the above. He just took the bait. No, what I saw were glimmers of an independent thinker.

First, on Friday night, I caught him with the Direct TV manual in his lap, open to a page of directions. With remote in hand, he was reading and following directions to solve a problem he needed to fix. He didn't ask us to tell him how (ok, he did try his brother but when that didn't work...). I was tempted to jump in and give him the simple answer but, thankfully, recognized the opportunity for what it was. For most, a small thing. For me (and for him), it was a huge breakthrough. Other than Legos instructions, I doubt SJ has ever sought an instruction manual for anything in his life.

Second, and equally mundane for most, he responded to his dad's need desire for cookies and milk. He offered to make cookies knowing that we didn't have any more of the super fast and easy fundraiser cookie dough. Did he realize he had to follow a recipe? Apparently he did! I helped find the recipe and left him to do his work. We had a near miss as he forgot to add the dry ingredients but he got right back on track as soon as we called this to his attention. The cookies were both tasty and beautiful. And to this mom, they were so much more than a treat. Those cookies represented an early and encouraging step in the direction of confidence and independence. Ping. Ping. Ping! Sometimes we need to take what we can get.

A Weekend Offers Perspective

After my little meltdown last week, I took a chill pill and had the opportunity for a physically strenuous (as opposed to mentally strenuous) weekend of cleaning out my house and having a giant yard sale with 50 (yes 50!) of my neighbors. So satisfying on so many levels. Exhausted, I fell into bed at 8:00 p.m. and awoke Sunday in time to attend our 9:00 a.m. service. I felt as if I hadn't been as awake and rested in a month.

The thing about our 9:00 a.m. service is that a group of exuberant Celebrate Recovery (former addicts) folks occupy the first two rows of seating, literally right in front of the stage. Always effusive, always smiling broadly, always swaying enthusiastically to our lively worship, always...exuberant. I am all for enthusiastic praise but I have to admit, I've looked at them with dose of accusation, that maybe they were just a little over-the-top.

Here is where I have to say that T.V. is not always a bad thing. I've been watching Addicted on TLC, not so much because I enjoy seeing people in their addictions but because I am fascinated by the intervention techniques. (I am studying for my Counseling degree.) It's a disturbing show, to say the least, but the progression from stupor to lucidity can't help but make a person stand up and cheer. I guess I have only imagined a life of addiction, never really seen it.

I wanted to hug those front row people yesterday. Throw up your hands, dear friends. These are people who know what they have been delivered from and are paying due respect and offering a sacrifice of joy to the One who gave them a new day.

Next, my attention turned toward our drummer, a motley kid I've watched grow from awkward teen to scruffy young man. I know he struggled with school and has spent a few wayward years finding his way to adulthood. But the kid can play. I don't know his school story and why he struggled, but it warmed my heart to see him there, offering the gift he does have.

What if my SJ takes a crooked path? I'm not setting him up for that but consider it for  a moment. Often our greatest suffering, our biggest challenge, our thorn, if you will, leads to the most acute joy and thankfulness. As a parent, I would protect him from ill. But my job above all is to be on my knees, praying for the will of the Father in his life.

On the curriculum front, I had a wonderful conversation with the Grand Pumba Handler who reminded me to relax and know that I cannot teach SJ anything at a level where he isn't. She encouraged me to concentrate on foundational skills and let the science and history and literature work it's way in. It was reassuring and we spent Friday doing "math" and industry as we marked and labeled our treasures for sale. We even threw in an impromptu investment lesson as he purchased a case of Skittles to sell at 100% markup. It was a much better weekend. Thank you all for your comments and encouragement. This week our hand is forced. He is having his adenoids removed on Tuesday so we will not have a choice but to relax. I am looking forward to the week.

Struggling Learner? How About Struggling Mom?

I'll have to admit, it has been a rough week. I had great plans to approach the week with less formal lessons and more "fun" type learning. Is it me or does less to do mean less is done? I mean, MUCH less. More blank stares. Less compliance. More resistance.

While I know intuitively that I need to find SJ's spark, his currency, if you will, I seem lost in finding it and even more lost in convincing myself that he will ever master anything that resembles a school standard if I follow this style. And doesn't he have to meet a few standards to eventually graduate?
In school, a teacher proffers a passing grade and promotes a child to the next grade level. When learning happens in such a different order and on a totally different timeline at home, how does a homeschooler measure progress?

Couple this with the learning disability and it's not hard to see why I am lost. As my friend (who is conveniently also a therapist) noted, SJ is "p-d off" at failing all the time and until he finds something in which he can succeed, he will use all his energy resisting me and my efforts. But what is that thing? 'And how will it be enough to urge him toward independence, adult literacy, and character, for isn't that the ultimate goal?

Keeping Our Eyes on the Task at Hand.

For the most part we are falling into a routine, plugging along at SJ pace and learning to cover lessons with more quality than quantity. Really, it's the only way we can cover lessons unless I'm just into text-mentioning for my own benefit. Still, it's disheartening to me when we run unbidden into concepts that my son has no clue how to decipher, concepts he has been meant to work with in traditional school.

For instance, yesterday he faced a question asking if a term was a simile, a metaphor, an analogy, or an idiom. Blank stare. "Mom, my teacher expected me to know what these were but I have no idea." Add it to my growing list. Sigh.

Again, it reinforces why I am homeschooling this guy but still, it makes me sad and a wee bit overwhelmed at the scope of material we need to cover (and master). It makes me wonder, though, how many other kids are sitting in classrooms making WAGS (wild-a**-guesses) to get their "C" and move on. My son has a known learning issue that requires a unique delivery system and has resulted in lagging school knowledge. But sometimes the lines are blurred and I wonder how far behind he is... or isn't?

Our focus as homeschoolers needs to be our children's progress, not comparison. Still, it takes time to take the school out of school. I've been a lifelong classroom learner (a good one) so it is a daily choice to move against the grain of tradition in learning. I am so thankful that, personally, I've always been interested in psychology and brain function and learning styles so I have some understanding of what I am working with but the reality of doing said work often feels askew.

So we move on to another day, our focus on the trail head, not the top of the mountain (was that an analogy?). This journey will be long and strenuous but I am convinced the view will be well worth it.

An Early High Point and Impromptu Science Lesson

Passed muster on my first meeting with my handler this week. (My "handler" is the adorable teacher lady who has oversight over our homeschool. Really, her job is to check in and make sure I am really teaching something. She also has the unenviable task of translating my teaching plans into California standards.)

Been thinking of things I need to say about teaching my struggling learner. I guess I thought I would have all these wonderfully creative ways of helping him assimilate information to report. What I am finding is that simply having one on one teaching is worth a thousand teaching theories.

My proudest moment of the week came as we discussed prewriting for a compare/contrast essay. When I write, I use a semi-outline; main ideas with bullet points and mind vomit on the lines following. It works for me. I wanted to give SJ the freedom to try something different so I showed him how to mind-map, using bubbles and a sort of diagram form to organize his thoughts. His first attempt required a GPS to follow. At first I praised him for the effort. I thought that if he knew what it meant, it would be ok.

Showers offer lots of clarity. It was there that it occurred to me that he really didn't "get" the mapping thing. Part of me didn't want to struggle with doing it over but the sane part told me, "Carrie, if you don't have him do it right, you will spend more heartache on revising a poor essay." So much to my dismay, I had him start the following day with his map. The boy didn't flinch. In fact, by the third point, he was off and running ahead of me, mapping sub-points. He "got it." It made me happy.

Then came the paper. Frankly, I didn't expect much. So far we have done much of our work together and this was one of the first long assignments he had to do on his own. Independent work proves challenging, whether it's because of his learning issue or because he is two weeks shy of 13, I'm not entirely sure. By Friday I knew I could not avoid reviewing the thing. I figured I would have him read it out loud so he could hear all the problem spots.

Imagine my shock as he read what I would consider an A or B grade essay! He made his points, supported them, and gave concrete examples. I was ecstatic. He grinned. It was a good moment. I think this is gonna work. 

One thing we discovered over this past week is that the allergies we have been battling for the past eight years are really gigantic adenoids. And this is the thing I love about homeschool--we jumped ahead in the science text to the lymph system so he could discover what that meant and what a surgery might entail. I am not exaggerating when I say our entire family looks forward to the day when he can breathe clearly again. I can only imagine how this condition has affected his learning (attention) over the past several winters.

Two weeks down and I am still having fun. The lithmus test is SJ and according to him, homeschool is "good." That's his way of saying, Thanks Mom and Thumbs Up.

One Step Forward, Two Steps Back

The first thing I have learned as a homeschooling mom is that I may need to redefine progress. If progress means movin' through stuff at a moderate clip, we have not budged. If, instead, it means understanding whatever stuff one gets through, we may be in business.

While I am pleased at the overall quantity of work we have managed, which to some might seem like not much, I have found that each lesson seems to open a door to five other lessons that need to be mastered before the current one can make sense. I shouldn't be surprised because I suspected SJ missed many foundational lessons in learning, but it can be a tad overwhelming.

For instance, a simple vocabulary list turned into lessons on how to interpret a dictionary's meanings, choosing the best one for the application, deciphering abbreviations, and deconstructing definitions.  Sending him to do some internet research first required an understanding of search engines, how they work, how to get meaningful results, and how to evaluate whether a website is credible. The thing is, these are activities he has been doing for years in class...with nary an understanding as to why.

It's rewarding to unlock the puzzles of learning with my son but it is slow-going. The requirements of the California Standards are ever looming, but as long as I keep my eye on the fact that knowing how to learn eventually reaps real learning, I think we will be o.k. and SJ will make real and measurable progress.

Welcome to Homeschool. Now Take a Test.

We have a whole lot of freedom in our homeschooling but we are not beyond the reach of California standards, it seems. Because we chose to align with a public charter, SJ is subject to all the same STAR testing elements as public school kids. Today he had to take the 7th grade Writing Test.

My views on said tests have changed over the years. I will apologize now for my obnoxiousness over my first child's performance. I really had no idea that anyone could score lower than 98% on any portion of the tests. She made it look that easy. I'm not sure gloat would be the right word, but certainly I will admit to a wee bit of pride in her performance. My thought: Look how smart she is!

When my second child was old enough to submit to STAR wars, I mean testing, I discovered that not everyone scored 98%. Still, though, he did well enough to keep my parental pride afloat. My thought: Two out of three ain't bad. We are doing something right. Again, the apology...

If you don't have three children, I recommend adding to your quiver because really, the third will cure you of all delusions and control you may have thought you had.

Imagine my shock as I opened the end-of-summer envelope that would tell me, once again, how wonderfully smart my child had become only to discover the State had sent the wrong results. Only homeless children could achieve the low scores exhibited. I checked the name. My son. I checked the scores. Clearly, Below Basic. Yikes. What do you do with that?

I'll tell you what you do. You reevaluate the need for standardized tests and question what they really test. I'm not trying to be a sore loser here but really, if you think it through, you realize the tests are testing whether or not the school has achieved its teaching goals (as set by the State). Secondarily, I guess, it measures your child--if your child is a good test-taker. For a struggling learner (notice I did not say a Below Basic student), the tests only serve to frustrate. To a right brain learner who prefers spatial imaging, "big picture" thinking, and emotional connection, those test booklets are akin to writing a thesis in cursive...backwards.

Mind you, I am all for measurements. I am all for valid and reliable test documents as well. But these are not it. I wish I had the answer. In the free market, customers talk with their dollars. Competition breeds innovation and excellence and underperformers, unless subsidized by the government, eventually die. The problem for schools (and teachers) is that there are as many opinions as there are parents and because of the familial prejudice, we should all question the accuracy of parental review.

For now I am content with school choice. Homeschooling aside, I am fortunate to live in a county, state, and country that gives me options to find the best fit for each of my children. And each one has chosen different paths. I am especially grateful for the opportunity to homeschool as I do realize not everyone understands it, believes in it, or even worse, has the opportunity or the means to pursue it. (That's a whole 'nother post, discussing how we have set ourselves up to rely on public schools as both babysitter and teacher. I'm not moralizing here, just sayin' that's how it is.)

So we submit to the public standards tests. The results will be what they will be. It comes at a good time this year in that I can take no culpability in the poor results but I would hope that next year, we will see improvement. I am not holding my breath.

Chronicle of a Struggling Learner

On Monday I begin my new life as a homeschooling mom. It's a midstream change, kind of sudden but really not.

Our journey with my third child began years ago, probably around his second grade year (now seventh) when I noted that he tended to skip small words while reading aloud. Eventually this translated to poor performance on tests although I didn't make the connection until much later. Teachers warned me not to compare his performance with my first two, both top of class students.

I guess I kept hoping that he would catch up but each year was the same drill. He started strong then crashed by about week seven or eight, usually around the time of the first comprehensive test. On a hunch, in fifth grade, I read aloud some questions from his "F" test. To my surprise, he answered me with 100% accuracy. The kid was not dumb.

Fortunately for us, we have an optometrist in our town who tests for a peculiar learning issue. As my son subjected himself to a battery of "games," I was shocked to discover how much he missed as I followed along. In a nutshell, he has a visual processing deficit, not correctable by lenses. It goes much deeper in the heart of his brain.

I discovered that my son had adapted to this, unconsciously, by suppressing the receiving center for one of his eyes. Think about reading a book with the type on the two facing pages overlapping, even slightly. This is how text looked to him. The brain is a marvelous organ and it does what it needs to do when taxed. Unfortunately, in this case, it staunched the dimension needed for information to make sense. Without a 3D understanding of text, my son struggled to get visual pictures, to organize information, to memorize--in short, to learn.

Schools have tests for struggling learners but they do not test for this particular issue and, I found, do not really consider this a "valid" problem. It doesn't fit their box and they do not have specialists or programs ready to address this deficit. Coupled with the fact that my son could, with my help, make passing grades, he never failed enough to get the magical IEP (nor did we particularly want him attached to the little pink folder).

I kept hoping that he would manage his learning using the sills he learned in an intensive vision therapy program (our dime) while I alerted teachers to particular hot spots. It hasn't worked despite my hopes and intentions. Denial is bliss, but truth is probably better though inconvenient.

How can I expect a teacher to buffet my son amidst a class of 35 students, some with severe learning disabilities and specifically outlined objectives, as well as top learners who regularly linger on the edge of boredom in the classroom? I couldn't do it. Teachers must teach to the masses and pray that their teaching method reaches the majority of students.

What tipped the scale for me was the dull undercurrent of concern about my son's social life. He has never been in "trouble" but he continues to disturb me with his friend choices and I see behaviors that, while small and maybe even age-appropriate (by the world standards), will grow in the wrong direction. For a kid who suffers in the classroom, there is a great desire to succeed at something. That something isn't always positive. Kids like this are grouped with underachievers, not the best friend pool. They lag schoolmates in understanding so they embellish, pose as characters to garner approval, or simply lie. It creates a disturbing social cycle.

I finally had to ask. Why am I sending my son to school for seven hours each day? He isn't gaining more than a fraction of an academic year each year and he isn't thriving socially. Why is he there? It's sobering to admit, but the honest truth is that he was there for me, to give me a break. I have subjected him to a daylong babysitter--and not really a good one.

So here we are. Starting homeschool. After the initial resistance to the idea, my son is excited and relieved that he is about to be released from the grind of school. We anticipate spending the first several weeks in a detox process, if you will, learning what learning can be outside the confines of a traditional environment.

My challenge will be to teach a right brain child from my own left and linear brain.

This will be a journey, thus the name of my blog. Regel, in Hebrew, means journey. Also tied to the word is enduring. I know I can do this but I also know my own limitations and tendencies. I figure that if I am going to suffer, I should share my suffering with others. After all, what is suffering for but that others can learn?

I hope my friends will follow my journey, but more than that, I pray that other parents with struggling learners will find their way here and that I can encourage them through our experiences, successes, failures, blunders, and joys. Our kids our worth it. My son is worth it. This could possibly be the greatest investment I have ever made as a parent.

As I read just this morning, "Rest assured that God never leaves a willing servant with nothing to do. The alternate opportunity He has in mind will yield bigger fruit, more satisfaction, and greater glory for Him." Jeremiah 10:23-24 NLT

Blessings. CS