Oakdale Academy

Welcome our newest 1st, 3rd, and 5th graders.

Revolutionary War

When I think of most parts of American history... particularly some of the major events we study in school like the Civil War and the Revolutionary War... my first thought is always, "not a good time for black folks." From that perspective, those are not eras that you'll see me getting in line to recount or relive. So, when Venesa mentioned the prospect of going to a reenactment as part of our homeschool experience, I was (let's say) less than enthusiastic. But it was school, and so I was down to do for the sake of education.  And we did it... and a funny thing happened: I actually enjoyed it (oh snap!).

Sometimes it only takes one person to make or break an experience, and with this one we got lucky. We ran into a reenactment actor that simply took the time. He chatted with us, took us around, explained things at the appropriate level, brought the experience to life for the kids with a dress-up and gun-toting opportunity... and most of all, greeted us warmly and took an interest in our education and experience. I guess I'll never know if our interaction with him was serendipitous or par for the course (e.g., perhaps they're all trained and willing to make themselves that available)... but I can say with certainty that it made all the difference in the world for us. Combining the trip with time with friends (another home school family) didn't hurt either. It gave the kids the companionship and occasional distraction they needed to stay engaged. In all, it was a good time. I don't exactly feel the need to go to another reenactment anytime soon... but I'm glad we went. Good job, mommy.

Homeschool Intramurals

Spring intramural time! Given the choices of baseball and soccer, Jasmine chose soccer and Justin initially chose baseball... until I explained to him that baseball was more than just hitting the ball with the bat like we do in the backyard.  "Every now and then, someone's gonna throw the ball at you... and they're gonna expect you to catch it."  That conversation pretty much brought Justin's baseball dreams to a screeching halt.

Yet and still, on the day of tryouts, we somehow talked Justin into giving soccer a second chance.  "Run the obstacle course with your sister.  If you like it, we'll sign you up.  If not, then hey, at least you tried."  And with that, we now had two contestants up and running.  Five stations with five different coaches outfitted with stopwatches and clipboards. The goal of the day was to place the kids on the appropriate team based on their speed, skill level, etc. 

First up was jasmine. And as she took off, weaving the ball through the cones, the coach shouted, "man! This girl is good... She's gonna be a pro!"   Next up was Justin. And before he even made it to the third cone, the coach turned to me and said, "so she's the professional athlete... and he's gonna be the doctor, huh?"

I laughed for the rest of the day. The truth is the truth, and evidently it doesn't take very long to sniff it out.  But to give credit where it's due, Justin did outrun and outscore his sister in all five trails.  So he still has bragging rights in the house.  But I don't think he was winning any awards in the 6-year-old boy category.  And that's just fine with me, because you have to know your child... and personally I count it a victory that our shy ultra-sensitive Care Bear watching lego-obsessed brainiac of a child was even out there, giving it his all.  Bring on the competition!  If we don't beat 'em in soccer, we'll beat 'em in the math, reading, and bible verse competition. 

Alphabet Soup

The background: During our last homeschool conference, Venesa got inspired to abandon our english curriculum midstream and switch to one called Logic of English. The new curriculum suggests teaching cursive before manuscript (print) writing, which meant heading back to square one with our first grader.  Nonetheless, we were still sold on the switch, as (amongst other reasons) the fluidity of cursive letters actually seemed to be more suitable for a six-year-old boy lacking fine motor skills.

The cause: A milestone celebration was in order.  It was a rough start but after a couple of months into the new curriculum, the lowercase cursive letters were a done deal.  

The task: As part of the celebration, Venesa came up with the idea of making cursive letter pancakes.  Something simple to commemorate the occasion.

The detour: Venesa had to get to an early morning hair appointment and passed the baton to daddy with clear instructions: Here's the batter.  Make a few letters, maybe A, B, and C. I'll be back in 45 minutes.

The problem: Daddy is a recovering Type A personality.  Uncompleted tasks are painful, and the alphabet doesn't stop at C.

The result: A whole lot more pancakes than we needed, and the tastiest alphabet song ever sung.  Pass the syrup, please.

Jasmine hits the practice board with cursive g's

J is for Justin knocking his cursive assignment out the park.
Next on the menu: Uppercase.

180 days

In South Carolina, beginning at the age of five and continuing until their 17th birthday, all children are required to attend 180 days of school.  Homeschoolers are no exception. The truth is that counting the number of days of instruction doesn't measure much of anything, as there is no measurable standard as to what "a day of learning" looks like.  What one school may cover in a week, another might cover in a single day.  Yet the two schools would pat themselves on the back just the same once they reach the end of the school year.  With that said, we're pretty content with the pace at which our kids are learning… but that still leaves this artificial hurdle of 180 days.  But that's where the flexibility of homeschool kicks in.

Picture me outside on a warm summer day, trying to unroot dying bushes in front of the house.  The kids see my struggle, drop their bikes and stroll over.  I drop my shovel and let each kid take a turn trying to pull the bush out of the ground.  As they do so, we talk about root systems, how strong they are (the roots, not the kids) and how skinny roots the width of our arms can hold up trees the width of our five bodies combined. And that's when I look up at Venesa, and we both high five… because, hey, that sounds like science class to me. School day!  Oh yeah.  One down, 179 to go.

Two days later, Jasmine wants to know where our mail comes from.  Fast forward through a 10 minute discussion of the United States mail system, a trip to the post office, and a "letter" mailed to the grandparents; and what do you have?  Well, that's social studies if I've ever seen it.  Bam… School day!

Of course, I'm half joking… but only half… because while we don't skimp on our school curriculum we also try to never miss the opportunity of teachable moments; and our recent trip to New York was no exception.  Subway stations, city buses, 9 million people, the Statue of Liberty, and what was once the tallest building in the world? Bam! School day!  It's a beautiful thing.  68 down.  112 to go.  No field trip forms required.

Commencement

Justin graduated from Kindergarten last week, which turned out to be more of a momentous occasion than I anticipated.  When Venesa first pitched the idea of a kindergarten graduation, I made it clear that I thought it was pretty silly.  I thought of it as just another way that society has conditioned us to celebrate mediocrity and borderline accomplishments... kind of like the whole "everyone gets a trophy" little league philosophy.  My thinking was, let's celebrate when he has really done something... But with a "sure, why not" approach, we went forward with the graduation plans anyway; and a funny thing happened along the way.  Once the moment came and it was time to zip up the graduation robe and send him on his way, I got filled with pride just like every other parent.  Suddenly, the other side of the argument was clear to me:  He did deserve his moment.  For over a year, he had lulled us to sleep with his intelligence and his diligence with learning.  Lesson after lesson, he excelled and (without realizing it) our high expectations became the norm.  No more, wow he can read!... no more kudos for adding four digit numbers in his head.  No pat on the back for solving logic puzzles and converting ounces to pints.  Instead, it was always off to the next task and skill, and we spent more time discussing his deficiencies (like why his penmanship wasn't up to par with his spelling) than his accomplishments.

But then graduation came.   And my focus changed.  It's like a veil was lifted.  Suddenly I was reminded of his love for learning.  I saw his character and the extent that he had matured over the past 9 months or so.  I saw the fun we had as a family getting him to where he is today.  I was reminded of his love for reading and the number of grade levels he has probably skipped in his ability to read and comprehend.  I flashed back to the consistent model that he's been to his sisters in both his level of integrity and his academic pursuits. I saw him reading to his sisters at bedtime.  I remembered his love for the bible and the countless hours he had spent reading his kids' bible on his own.  I remembered the dozens of verses he had committed to memory, and how inquisitive he is with his pursuit of holiness.  And above all, I saw his smile.  That absolutely brilliant smile that lights up our whole house... each and every day.  I saw his uniqueness. And I saw his development into a kid that was ready to sprout wings and take on first grade like a champion... all to fulfill his dream of being (drumroll, please) a waiter.  Yep... a waiter... because, according to Justin, they don't seem like they have to work too hard; so that seems like a pretty ideal occupation.  So yeah, we're still kind of working on that spirit of laziness... but even with that, I had to admit: We have a lot to celebrate.

Congratulations, Justin.

Slither Hither

At 4:03pm, I got a text from Venesa that read...

Big lizard in house.
Come home now!!!

And like Bruce Wayne responding to the Batman signal in the dark skies of Gotham, I was off and running! Home in a flash and packed with plenty of jokes to poke fun at my hyperventilating wife.  And I was ready to crack my first joke... until I saw the lizard.  Okay, so she had a point.  At about 16 inches long, this particular space invader was probably double the length of the slimy fellows that we've gotten used to seeing in the yard. And he was in the house.  Ready to make himself a ham sandwich and watch some television. Anyhow, fast forward a few minutes later and Roberto (hey, a lizard that big deserves a name) was scooped up and out the door.

But wait... there's more.

5 hours later, the kids and I arrive home from Awana.  It's already past bedtime and I'm mentally mapping out the optimal strategy for getting them from the van to the bed in 10 minutes or less.  I click the garage remote opener, the light comes on and... bam... right there in the middle of the floor... Roberto the lizard? nope... That wouldn't be nearly as interesting.  This time it's a snake.  And all I could think was... seriously?!  Here we go. I'm back in animal hunter mode for the second time today.  But first things first: Back away slowly... get the kids out of the car... and bring them closer to the snake for a little science demo and discussion.  Hey... we homeschool! No way I'm missing a free science lab opportunity.  One less thing we have to cover tomorrow.  Science lesson? check!

But before I could make the switch from biology teacher to snake charmer, the serpent was around a corner, behind a bookshelf and gone.  Thirty minutes and a lot of rearranged furniture later, still no dice.  He probably slithering between the walls somewhere, and I had no choice but to hedge my bets and assume that he'd find his way out the same way he found his way in.

Sure enough, the next afternoon I walked by the side of the house and bingo... same snake, headed away from the house and towards the swings for a little recreation. I boxed him up (after a photo opp and a follow-up lesson, of course) and helped him on his way.  Through the woods and hopefully far enough from our property that he won't be back for an encore.

Unexpected guests.  Four legs. No legs, and everything in between.  The virtues of living in the woods.

Diligence

We just got back from our first ("Teach them Diligently") homeschool convention, and in a word, it was great. We came back focused, energized, better informed, and enthusiastic about the road that we have ahead of us. Voddie Baucham and Ken Ham were great as keynotes, other speakers and workshop hosts were equally fantastic (and yes... some were also outright duds). But more than anything, I think Venesa and I were both swept away by the sheer size and level of support provided by the Christian homeschool community as a whole. There's certainly comfort in numbers, and an equal amount of reassurance in experiencing the extent to which were are not alone. We came back with purpose, in sync with each other's vision for our school, and doubly excited to continue down this path. I pray that the Lord continues to guide our every step in this and every other endeavor that involves our family. We pray that we remain in His will, and thank Him tremendously for what certainly has been an unexpected and unforeseen path to the here and now.

Homegrown Smarts

My child is so smart! I cringe every time I hear those words. In most of our circles, you'll be hard pressed to find a parent who (at some point in time) doesn't think that their child is an unadulterated genius. And so, it's with great strength and will power that I fight the urge to roll my eyes when parents use words like "incredible" and "advanced" to describe their 3 year olds. No, little Johnny is not going to be the next Tiger Woods just because he made 2 putts in a row with his Little Tykes golf kit. And yes, little Sally can spell STOP at the age of 2... great... but mind you, she's only watched that big red octagon go by her car window about 8 thousand times over the past 6 months. Get back to me when she can spell yield, no left turn, and pedestrian crossing.

It's because of (my own) cynical thoughts like these that we've been mum about Justin for so long. For me, to become that parent that I just wrote about would be to live a nightmare. I think it got to the point where Venesa and I absolutely refused to talk about Justin's aptitude to anyone else besides each other. His ability to conceptualize numbers, and read and write two years above his proper grade level somehow became our "dirty little family secret." While part of our denial was due to simple humility, I think that part of our silence has also been out of some irrational nervousness that he would regress the instant we said anything aloud about it. Also, in truth, neither one of us wants the pressure of raising a gifted kid. While raising a smarty pants may sound like a wonderful thing on the surface; when you're homeschooling your children, thinking that your child could potentially outsmart you before they hit double digits in age is cause for panic. And if, at 4-years-old, you're already worried about challenging your child at a satisfactory pace... that's kind of scary. But after attending this past weekends homeschool conference and having his somewhat bizarre aptitude level confirmed by a number of different sources... I thought it was finally time to break the silence.

Is Justin a genius? Not even close (if you ask me, anyway). With his boatload of idiosyncrasies (hypersensitivity to loud noises and certain texture foods, just to name a couple) I'm more inclined to call him borderline autistic than the g-word. But either way, it's becoming obvious that there's something different about the way he thinks. He baffles me on most days with simple stuff like his spelling and writing abilities. But more than that, he's got a thing with numbers. And so all I can say is, let's see what happens. From what we've been told by his pediatrician and a few other sources, if we were "that parent", we could probably shut down our summer, shun our lives and other two children, get him ready to start 2nd grade in the fall, and turn into one of those obnoxious families you'd see on CNN pushing to get their kid into college by the age of 14. But he's 4. And he has plenty of time to develop his academic inclinations. For now, we're content to let him dictate his own learning pace... doing what we can to not push him too hard, but also trying not to get in the way of progress. He's having fun, and life is way too short to disturb his tranquility with a premature entrance to the rat race that the rest of us endure. We enjoy watching (and being a part of) how interested he is in the whole process of learning. And for now, that's plenty.

So there... I said it. My child is so smart. Now excuse me while I roll my eyes at my own blog entry. Ha.

Genesis

With a handful of degrees between us and an obvious passion for education, we're theoretically prime candidates for homeschooling our children. But practically speaking, I still can't figure out how we got here. Venesa will be the first to tell you that my grand post-marriage plans included two incomes and a lavish annual vacation. But we followed the breadcrumbs and here we are. Hopefully in God's will for our family. Somewhat clueless, but excited for the potential.

The kids have already declared Co-op Monday as one of their favorite parts of Oakdale Academy (aka "mommy school"). Co-op is the once-a-week opportunity for homeschool kids across the city to come together and choose from a smorgasbord of classes that are offered each semester. You can take up to 4 or 5 classes, but two is plenty for our 2 preschoolers. Besides, even though they seem to enjoy it all, I've got a feeling that the classes themselves are nothing but bookends for the part of Co-op that they look forward to the most: Recess. 30 minutes of a few dozen little kids running around the gym, rolling basketballs over each other, and screaming incoherently at the top of their lungs. Actually, I personally haven't made it to Co-op yet... but that's how I picture recess and it makes for good writing; so I'm sticking with it.

Anyhow, pray for us. We need it for sure.

Welcome to Oakdale Academy.

Homebound

Milestones XXX

As I've written before, moving to Hartsville 5 month ago meant that we'd have to sink or swim in the midst of a lot of transitional milestones: new house, new city and state, new job & church, new baby (Naomi came 5 days after we moved in) and a first-time school experience for Justin Alexander. Granted, the last item on the list was self-imposed, but we thought it would be a bright idea to send Justin and Jasmine to preschool for a semester or two in order to give Venesa the best opportunity to cope with a newborn in the midst of so much change. In the end, she hyperventilated over the thought of being left home without any kids, and so we decided to just send Justin.

Well... fast forward 5 months, and I am excited to say that (as of Dec 16) the preschool experiment has come to an end. And boy was it a journey. From over-the-top Halloween celebrations and Santa Claus confusion (there will be no fat man in the chimney for us), to bullying and discipline issues; it seemed like every week brought a different issue that made us revisit and question our sanity decision. In the end, I could write a book (or at least a really long pamphlet) about our not-so-virtuous experience with private preschool; but I suppose that I also have to balance that by giving credit where it's due: For one, we appreciated his teacher. As two educators ourselves, we know that we probably have many years ahead of us of being overly critical of our childrens' teachers. Yet, I can still easily say that we appreciated Ms. Denise's level of dedication to her students and her classroom.





In the column of pros, I should also point out that Justin had fun. He looked forward to it everyday and adapted better than we could have imagined. Lastly, he did learn a lot. While we can't say that they added a lot of academic value, there were lots of new experiences (new songs and games, school play, etc.) and plenty of non-academic lessons to be gleaned from his classroom and sandbox adventures (some of which I've written about here). But perhaps most important of all, the whole experience was akin to using a quality primer before the final paint job: It paved the way for our homeschool experience in more ways than one. It helped Justin learn firsthand the structure and purpose of school overall. And our constant observations at the more detailed level gave me and Venesa more ideas than we could count in terms of how to build and shape a school of our own. I guess you can say it was like an internship. Experience gained and a nice stepping stone for what's to come. From that perspective, I guess you can say it was successful after all.