Slow is smooth and smooth is quick...

Eddie has a superintendent that was a marine - special forces. The guy has fascinating stories. Fascinating.

Yesterday, he told Eddie about a saying they have in the marines:

"Slow is smooth, and smooth is quick."

Those words have been rolling around in my head, buffing away at some of the jagged edges of half formulated thoughts. Think on it: slow is smooth and smooth is quick. It challenges the motion of our lives, the pace at which we measure our days. We think our motion is movement - productivity even. But maybe we're just gyrating to the rhythms of chaos. Maybe their is nothing quick about frantic.

Part my psychophrenia about education is because my core beliefs are really on the margins of the culture at large, and sometimes living on the margins feels uncomfortable. So, I move towards the mainstream, but I find that that is even more uncomfortable. How do I live with these beliefs, and the reality of their cost to my kids, and our family? How do they flesh out in the world outside of my head, and do I sometimes need to make concessions to reality, even as I hold on to the ideal? Hence, the phychophrenia.

I kinda think it wouldn't be that big of deal if we didn't teach kids to read until they were 8. Especially if they get to listen to stories like Charlotte's Web, and Mrs. Piggle Wiggle and The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe. I'm pretty sure that kids can learn grammar sans worksheet, and that baking cookies and playing store are pretty damn good ways to learn math. I think map reading skills develop best on road trips. I'm pro childhood and long afternoons lived out in pretend worlds. It's slow. It's smooth. And could it be quick? What if slow is the ideal pace of childhood?

What if 1.5 hours of homework for a 4th grader is just dumb? Maybe she should be making friendship bracelets and lemonade?

I was looking at my 5th grade son's language arts review sheet and noticed he was being quizzed on the subjunctive tense. Seriously? I was an English major and I cannot remember what that is - nor do I care. I cannot fathom a world where any 5th grade child would be edified in the knowing. Does this improve his writing? His oral communication? His critical thinking, or appreciation of literature? Will it ever matter? Or is it more drill and kill, and crank the blank? I believe it is the later.

Gyrating to the rhythm of chaos.

What if language is the art of conversation and communication? What if we teach our kids to love the aesthetic of a well written verse, and what if they learn to wield the written word like a powerful tool? What if we, say, didn't do so many worksheets? And, well, spent some more time reading really good books, and writing?What if we honored the fact that a kid spending an afternoon learning HTML to recode his computer game is real learning, and mattered? What if it was more important that a science worksheet?

So public school fits me like a wools sweater two sizes too small. It makes me itchy. I take a deep breath and tell my self it WILL be okay; everyone is doing it . I try to cajole myself, to spin the benefits of sending my kids to the machine that cranks out kids with standardized skills. There IS a part of me that loves tab A, slot B, turn this, punch in that system. Its tidier, and more predictable. And I am not anti phonics, grammar, math or composition. They're important, and sometimes boring to learn. Kid's should still learn them anyway. And sometimes in a really systematic way. But still. Itchy.

Homeschool is messy, and frankly, in certain seasons, totally undoable in our life. Real life is where the ideal meets dirty dishes, flu symptoms, bills, and bad attitudes. And there is friction. Always friction. And I don't have answers . Not always. But...

slow is smooth and smooth is quick

And there must be a way to teach them that honors this truth.