Luke Skywalker & Superman Our Schools NEED You!

As my husband and I have been navigating the special education system it has become so much more clear how little is being done to understand what children need in order to be successful learners. The latest catch phrase seems to be "21st Century Education" when referring to how classrooms should and can change from teacher centered to information centered. The possibilities of using resources outside the classroom walls are endless (students can create their own lessons online!) and can be harnessed to induce a higher love for learning in students. But - and it's a big BUT...people have to embrace the concept of change. Change in education systems can go very slowly with traditionalists fighting every step of the way. George Lucas writes eloquently here about how it's taken 20 years and we're just now starting to talk about what's working and what's not working in our schools.



I don't know where I've been but I just found out about George Lucas' organization, Edutopia and edutopia.org. The site is packed with information about how to enrich education for our children. How to start an after school social-emotional learning program or showing teachers how to use technology such as TED.com (Technology, Entertainment, Design) a collaboration of genius minds sharing their expertise, to watch a video on a subject he/she is teaching that week are just a couple of examples. Having a twice-exceptional child (also known as 2E: Gifted with a learning disability or emotional challenge), I am constantly looking for resources that will spark interest in him and for the teachers who, bless their hearts, are challenged with the task of motivating him to learn. And that's another blog, or book, or book series in itself.
My hope is that people will go see WAITING FOR SUPERMAN and jump into 21st Century Learning.

1st High School Trimester Redux - Part 1

Since Logue entered high school this Fall, my anxiety level started increasing exponentially. The voices inside my head keep saying "Now his grades actually count." At first I had to restrain myself from grabbing his backpack and doing his homework for him. Call me crazy, but I've seen the 3rd grade science projects in which the quantum physics applied clearly did not come from the 8 year old.

I want Logue to have all the resources possible for the kind of education he deserves, that any child deserves. Unfortunately, grades sometimes determine the opportunities and homework sometimes stifles the excitement for learning.

A few nights ago, Logue had to sketch a copy of a Calvin and Hobbes illustration as accurately as possible. He tried for 2 hours to conjure up something he thought would be acceptable to turn in to his new high school art teacher. But in his mind he fell short because accurate meant perfect and to him it wasn't perfect. Then came the frustration, the anxiety and the defeatist attitude and BOOM! It hit me - like wearing 5" heels reminds me that I have bunions:

Flash back to 5th grade math class. One day Logue didn't finish a homework assignment. His teacher, brilliant man, decided he'd show Logue a thing or two by putting him out in the hall. That night, Logue didn't know how to do the new homework because uh, he was in the hall feeling stupid and missed the lesson. This went on EVERY DAY for months before I found out. The teacher sure showed Logue. Wait, showed him what? That homework and school can be profoundly castrating?

After the Art assignment melt down and my flashback b*tch slap, I let Logue have some time to just relax and not think about homework. Then I did the unthinkable: I told him that the grade was not worth losing self esteem. If he tried, he tried - even if that means a "D" as in "Dang, so close." If the teacher has some suggestions for improvement, so be it. His grade is not a reflection of WHO he is. I want him to WANT to learn. And anyway, I would be punching out any teacher who doesn't realize how wonderful and brilliant he is. He let out a huge sigh and gave me a hug. *Joy* I still get hugs from my 14 yr old son. Twenty years from now, we're going to remember the hugs, not the grades. (Well, and maybe the image of me socking his teachers with my 5'3" mini self.)

I've always had mixed feelings about homework and grades, probably because I got nothing but A's out of fear and now I'm a pretty screwed up, gigantic, anxiety ball. What are these stressful homework situations teaching our kids?

Cut back to present day, 1st Trimester, Freshman year: For Logue's final exam in English he had to answer the question, "What does it mean to be Educated?"

While I may not be educated enough to answer that question in any coherent fashion, I do know what it DOESN'T mean:

*It isn't that you've memorized the Periodic Table and all the Presidents of America.

*It isn't how many hours your butt was stuck in a desk.

*It isn't your test scores.

*It isn't your pedigree of degrees from Pre-School to PhD.

What kid can even make it into Stanford or Harvard these days? One with a 6.8 GPA? And what does that half million dollar education get them today? A large diploma with an gigantic student loan bill?

We've all stuck our nose in our kid's homework where it didn't belong in an effort to either circumvent an emotional breakdown, boost their chances of getting to be an Ivy Leaguer or (even better) prevent our "perfect parent" reputation from being tarnished by a bad grade in 3rd grade geography. Whether its helping with just that one little paragraph or building the damn model bridge ourselves, sometimes we just to want it to get done already!

Apparently some parents' (not me of course) OVER involvement in homework has become an epidemic according to Alfie Kohn. In "Stop doing the homework, overzealous parents warned," Kohn states this phenomenon has some schools requiring students to complete their work at school to ensure parents are not undermining the learning process. I say yay to that concept. I already did my times tables.

Homework at our home can cause tension, stress and anxiety. I'm not going to let 5 hours of video gaming take the place of what could be more productive, non-comatose time BUT, I will be the first to email a teacher when memorizing states and capitals becomes a 2 hour long process with only Oregon and Washington accomplished while members of my family are losing their voices and handfuls of hair. I have questioned teachers on the validity of an assignment. It does mean crossing that line. You know, the one that puts you on THAT list at the school. So, I'm the Bad Mom - the out of the box, non conventional, trouble maker who questions the curriculum making all the teachers avert their gazes when I walk down the hall.

I can't tell you how many times I've heard, "So, what's going on at home that is affecting your child's ability to do their homework?"

You mean besides the fact that I tell my kid the homework is stupid?

I'm not at the point yet where I have taken on battling the school's homework policy, but there are many parents who have done just that: like here.

Luckily, I have THE BAD MOMS CLUB - to at the very least share my badness, non Super Mom ways and have moms like me to justify my unconventional means of surviving .

note: no teachers were hurt in the making of this blog post.

Logue is a Writing Genius

I love the fact that Logue's end of the year self reflection essay at school was full of snarcastical (combination: snarky, sarcastic, fantastical) quips that even I nor Jay knew he had in him. We are so proud of our son snubbing his school...

OK we're not normally this jaded BUT when your kid's school suspends your 7th grade kid for a bogus plagiarism charge for a WEEK, doesn't talk to the kid first about the "crime", doesn't talk to the parents at all, threatens expulsion to an otherwise extremely compliant, rule-following, A and B student and questions the kid's entire body of work because the kid copied and pasted some facts (not opinion or fiction) and left it in a different font and font color so the passage sticks out like a sore thumb as if to say "here, look! Over here is where I plagiarized! Make sure you don't miss it!" --breathe, mom, breathe--
IT IS ASININE! -- to say the least.
But whenever I get that anger bubbling up, working it's way to my fingers that want to type a really nasty email to the school (like the "You Suck" short and sweet version of an earlier post), I read Logue's essay and all is right with the world.

Correspondence

The adult version of me and the 10 year old version (who's still stuck in me) are at war. It's not so much a multiple personality thing...which might be better since then I could score a ticket to a little vaca in arts and crafts and green jello heaven.
Not so much... It seems to happen when the chips are down and there is so much floating up there in the vast configuration that is my brain and BOOM! I digress. My somewhat witty, articulate thoughts burrow deeper into my cerebral cortex and all that's left are the ingrained thoughts of my much, much younger self. And it's funny, those childish thoughts, emotions and urges just seem to take over. I can't be held responsible for things like calling the neighbor, "grumpy-pants-meanie-old-man" or telling Jay (husband) he's not my BFF anymore.

Of course this started happening after many years of being passionate about my Highly Gifted, teenage son, Logue's education and running into many administrative road blocks. I have read a trazillion books, consulted for countless hours with child psychologists and education specialists and done enough research to have earned myself a degree in child psychology. I have written enough letters, emails, dissertations and education plans to put together a Master's Thesis on how to educate children.

Sidebar: Children should be treated as individuals in school-- not cows in a herd.

So, maybe it's the exhaustion of beating my head against the wall that's pushing the intelligent, grown up me aside when I try to complete an arduous task such as writing a thoughtfully composed letter to Logue's school.

I've started...It goes something like this:


Dear Logue's School Administration, (Names have been withheld from me to protect their wellbeing privacy)
First and foremost, I would like to impress how many wonderful aspects of the school Logue has experienced. The school has many passionate educators who have conquered the arduous task of disseminating a quite challenging curriculum.
However, I am writing to present my dismay with the arbitrary use or misuse of policies and procedures. I expect a school where the philosophy is: "...based on the research of noted educators, especially Howard Gardner, whose work on multiple intelligences revealed the importance of arts-infused curriculum for the benefit of all students," to be apprised of the multiple needs of those types of students.
A private school that touts accepting "bright and highly creative students" with one of the most exorbitant tuition rates in our area is not above criticism. It is a school's responsibility to take the emotional welfare and individual educational experience...

That's about where my brain said SCREW IT and the ten-year-old-me wrote this one:

Dear Logue's School Administration,
You suck.
Most Sincerely,
Claire

At least I didn't swear.

(No Anna, I didn't REALLY send it)