We tell each other not to worry by equating it with fear and anxiety. But I recently came across a little book that made me rethink the whole concept of worry.
The book was called Tell Me Everything You Don’t Remember. Written by Christine Hyung-Oak Lee, it details a stroke she had at the age of 33. The writer lost her short term memory as a result along with other aspects of her personality.
This line arrested me:
Worrying is an exercise in memory.
Worry Isn’t All Bad
As homeschoolers, we are free from following the rules of tests and other paraphernalia public schools foist upon their students and the subsequently the parents. As unschoolers, we tell ourselves we’re outside of rules anyway.
Granted, their futures cannot be guessed at, but because my concern for them is a function of my memory, I can help them navigate their childhood in a way no one else can. I can help them look forward as I look back.
While anxiety might be bad, worry has a real function. It would be foolish to abandon it.
Anyone who reads this blog knows I’m a lover of history. I often have book suggestions and lists for you to browse that I label “good” history. But today I want to deal with the relatively controversial topic of “bad” history.
What “Bad” History?
I’ve been mulling over this idea in my mind that it is usually a good idea to begin learning where and when you can. Begin where you are is my motto. Of course you can’t and don’t – and won’t – stay where you are if you read and study and learn enough.
Consider the boom in current historical fiction. Books and movies and Netflix shows – there is supposed history all around us. “But that’s not how it happened!” and “Revisionist!” is the cry we often hear. And let’s not forget “Fake news!” Surely, we should avoid bad history, right? I mean, it’s a lie.
But wait, I say. (And don’t call me Shirley. Heh.)
Bias is Inevitable
We’ve been listening to the Histories of Herodotus in the car on drives while running errands. And while there is much that is informative in it, the true value of listening to Herodotus is in the entertainment of it. History is a narrative, after all, and Herodotus manages to maintain a veneer of factual reporting while letting slip some pretty liberal use of “so I’ve been tolds.”
All this to say bias is inevitable. No matter where you start, depending on where you stand, history looks different. There’s no sense in denying it or trying to make it “fair.”
In fact it is in the trying that we most belie our biases.
So why not start there? Start with bad history, if you must. At least it gives you something to think about – something to sink your mental teeth into. Then go from there. Argue, sound out, find out. Learn and grow. Look at things from various perspectives.
Then create your own. If nothing else, you will have worked your way through some fallacies and created an argument.
And in the process, you will have learned more than a simple rendition of the facts.
There isn’t much that doesn’t offend us these days, it seems. The offence runs the gamut from politics to parenting to – you guessed it – language. And figures of speech and grammar are no exception. In the last day alone, I have noticed four different times people have corrected someone’s spelling or grammar online.
Look, I understand that we’re homeschoolers. We hold our children to high standards.
We meticulously pore over good literature. We value “living books,” we teach that in order to be understood it is necessary to be precise, we Google and search and memorize. Above all, we read. And we never ever use abbreviations in text messages.
But at what point does our correction and insistence on good grammar and punctuation leave the realm of helpful and practical and become merely pedantic?
I Hate the Oxford Comma
Or rather, I couldn’t care less about it. Like most people in the (normal) non-academic world, I don’t give two hoots if you add it or not. Honestly, it looks odd to me there just hanging beside the “and.” It seems out of place and rather embarrassed at being thrust into the fray if you ask me. But hey, suit yourself.
The same goes for things like the split infinitive and the subjunctive mood. Oh, and the insistence of the use of “may I” instead of “can I” and the ever so tiresome idea of never ending a sentence with a preposition.
“Ending a sentence with a preposition is something up with which I will not put.” – Winston Churchill
And yet, Americans spell certain English words differently from their British origins. Ask me how I know. I had to learn to drop the (apparently) useless “u” when I moved here and learn to stress the second syllable instead of the first as I used to in British English.
Language and spelling – even pronunciation – is way more fluid than we give it credit for. Rules are only useful so far as they promote communication and not much else.
I went to a private school in Bombay, India. My classmates and I were the last students to follow the British curriculum in the 50 years after India’s independence. I was accorded the best education I could get. My parents made sure of that. My teachers made sure that all the English I heard and read was correct. My ear therefore was trained and if it didn’t sound right, I knew it was probably not correct.
My grasp over the English language is mostly intuitive, not academic.
I have never, ever, ever diagrammed a sentence and I couldn’t have told you an active voice from passive a few years ago. And the only reason I care now is because the plugin on my blog says I need more brief sentences in active voice for readability.
But here’s really why I’m telling you this. I certainly wouldn’t correct people in a face to face conversation about their pronunciation of a certain word. Why do we feel so entitled to correct perfect strangers in an online setting?
And what about friends? I used to, you know. I used to correct them. Until I realized I wasn’t perfect. Mea culpa.
In fact, in some areas – like patience, like serious, technical problem solving, I was decidedly deficient. I’m just blessed that things like coding, engineering and logic are not the language of everyday communication – that I am not judged on them each time I want to say something.
Can we not overlook some foibles out of basic respect? Or does love cover a multitude of sins unless they happen to be those of grammar and punctuation?
This isn’t an argument to ignore spelling “your” and “you’re” correctly or even to not get “there,” “their,” or “they’re” right, this is a plea to stop being such a stickler about the form of something that you miss the meaning or, worse, deign it to be so far beneath you that you must either stop and point it out in a very obvious manner or just not read it.
Yes, there are some cases when the mistake is so blatant that it changes the meaning of a sentence. And in those cases, it is (perhaps) acceptable to ask for clarification (I would put unnecessary apostrophes in this category) but I would still be careful.
What is the impulse behind correcting grammar? Is it the momentary superiority we feel about knowing something another doesn’t? Or is it genuine miscommunication that needs clarification? If good grammar is a sign of good breeding, when did politeness stop being part of it?
What I Intend to Teach My Children
If you have read my book The Classical Unschooler, you know that even though I tend to lean toward the classical model of education, I am not a fan of learning something for its sake alone. As such, I don’t intend to insist the children learn Latin, for example. Or sentence diagramming.
I tend to be fairly practical in my approach. This is, of course, not to say that they shouldn’t pursue something that gives them obvious pleasure just because it’s not practical. But, by and large, we focus on what’s useful.
If I notice that my children are having trouble expressing themselves – verbally or in written form – in a way that hinders communication with others, that will be our focus. I will give them the tools they need to express themselves well, even with beauty. But we will only pursue the rules in as so far as they achieve those ends.
I will no longer turn rules into idols. The world has enough grammar Nazis already.
If you’re naturally an introvert, homeschooling can seem daunting at first. After all, the number of classes and co-ops calling your name are endless. You can easily find yourself in the midst of all the action, surrounded by people – great people, ones you love and agree with, but still… people. And groups. What’s an introverted homeschooling mom to do?
I’m here to tell you this: it’s okay to be on the sidelines.
You will rarely find me in the “in crowd.” At parties, I prefer to be on the sidelines. I am usually the last person in the group to know the latest news. I dislike meetings.
I like to get along with most people, but large groups and infighting drain me. I prefer the company of two to three friends at a time. And I need time to decompress after seeing large groups of people. Or I get sick – I’m not kidding on this one.
So, homeschoolers? If you’re someone like me, let me offer you this perspective – it’s just fine. Here are some of the advantages of being on the sidelines.
You hear less gossip
Let’s face it. People can’t stop talking and they can’t stop talking about each other. I find the more I hang out in groups the more likely I am to hear things that do not concern me and things I wish I never knew about someone else. They have the effect of making me tired.
Being on the sidelines and limiting too much interaction rids me of that problem. I know enough to navigate my way through life and that’s quite enough, thank you very much.
You can focus on what’s important
When you’re homeschooling, unschooling or trying to do what’s necessary and important, focus is paramount. Unfortunately, it’s also at a premium. Getting things done requires a laser like focus – especially when you’re in your everyday environment.
Not being in the in crowd means you have that focus. You don’t get pulled in ten different directions.
You’re less likely to get sidetracked
I have written before about how I don’t like to do too many activities. I don’t think it’s healthy for the children and I don’t think it’s good for anyone to have every minute of their lives in scheduled activities.
The advantage of not keeping up with the homeschooling Joneses is that you can plan your days without getting sidetracked. You don’t have people asking you to go out every weekend and you don’t overschedule your life. You can breathe.
So if you feel left out when you’re on the sidelines as a homeschooler, don’t. There are special joys there only some can see. Sometimes, a square peg in a round hole is exactly what you need to be!
The quote speaks to those of us, I think, who see history as interesting biographies and love to see the people behind the stories and conjecture how their lives must have actually been.
History is not just dates, places and events to be memorized by school children. It is people influencing events – real people with blood coursing through their veins and thoughts through their minds. History breathes. Its heart beats. Just like those who make it, history changes and remains the same. It repeats its triumphs and tragedies. History is little people caught up in great events and great people turning insignificant events into momentous ones. History is madman and genius, warmonger, peacemaker, idealist and cynic – actors all, playing out their roles on the greatest stage of all.
The essence of socialization is to take make people dependent on social controls, to make them respond predictably to rewards and punishments. And the most effective form of socialization is achieved when people identify so thoroughly with the social order that they can no longer imagine themselves breaking any of the rules.
He goes on.
A thoroughly socialized person is one who desires only the rewards that others around him have agreed he should long for… He may encounter thousands of potentially fulfilling experiences but he fails to notice them because they are not the things he desires. What matters is not what he has now, but what he might obtain if he does as others want him to do. Caught in a treadmill of social controls, that person keeps reaching for a prize that always dissolves in his hands.
Tell that to anyone who asks about proper socialization of your kids.
Besides dealing with how to achieve moments and lives in which we are not just dependent on society, but search within ourselves to create meaning and thus live meaningful lives, he has much to say about socialization and memorization as well.
Here’s what he has to say about learning things by rote.
Learning complex patterns of information by heart is by no means a waste of effort. A mind with some stable content to it is much richer than one without. It is a mistake to assume that creativity and rote learning are incompatible. Some of the most original scientists for instance have been known to have memorized music, poetry, or historical information extensively.
And this is perhaps my favorite part and relates directly to homeschooling.
A person who can remember stories, poems, lyric of songs, baseball statistics, chemical formulas, mathematical operations, historical dates, biblical passages, and wise quotations has many advantages over one who has not cultivated such a skill. The consciousness of such a person is independent of the order that may or may not be provided by the environment. She can always amuse herself and find meaning in the contents of her mind. While others need external stimulation to keep their mind from drifting into chaos, the person whose memory is stocked with patterns is autonomous and self contained.
If you haven’t read it yet, make it a point to do so.
Here are some great takeaways from the book to whet your appetite.
Although we often succeed in teaching our pupils “subjects,” we fail lamentably on the whole in teaching them how to think? They learn everything, except the art of learning.
For we let our young men and women go out unarmed, in a day when armour was never so necessary. By teaching them all to read, we have left them at the mercy of the printed word. By the invention of the film and the radio, we have made certain that no aversion to reading shall secure them from the incessant battery of words, words, words. They do not know what the words mean; they do not know how to ward them off or blunt their edge or fling them back; they are a prey to words in their emotions instead of being the masters of them in their intellects.
We who were scandalised in 1940 when men were sent to fight armoured tanks with rifles, are not scandalised when young men and women are sent into the world to fight massed propaganda with a smattering of “subjects”; and when whole classes and whole nations become hypnotised by the arts of the spell-binder, we have the impudence to be astonished. We dole out lip-service to the importance of educationlip-service and, just occasionally, a little grant of money; we postpone the school leaving-age, and plan to build bigger and better schools; the teachers slave conscientiously in and out of school-hours, till responsibility becomes a burden and a nightmare; and yet, as I believe, all this devoted effort is largely frustrated, because we have lost the tools of learning, and in their absence can only make a botched and piecemeal job of it.