Revisiting method—workboxes

Back in August I mentioned that we were going to give a modified workbox method a try, and we've been doing just that rather happily since then. We dont' use the boxes as a guide for our days, though, we use our days as a guide for the boxes.

We have a stack of six craft-box drawers that started out in our play room but have since migrated to our kitchen, and we keep them filled with things that are on the top of Calvin's interest list at the moment. We ended up labeling the boxes with seven different basic subjects for organizing purposes. Right now there's mammoths and kingdom classification (BFSU) in the science drawer, map mystery worksheets in the geography drawer, subtraction from Math-U-See in the math drawer, some Dover coloring books and his piano books in the art and music drawer, and his journal is in the language drawer.

We have no rules about how or when things get done, or about what can or can't go in the boxes, we use them instead as suggestions in moments of mid-day ennui ("what do we do now?" "I don't know, why don't we take a look in the boxes?"), and we tend to visit at least one box every day, some days all six. They give Calvin a place to keep projects that are in the works, and they are great for keeping our minds focused, so that we don't forget projects that are in the works or questions that we haven't been able to fully answer just yet. And as I find interesting books, print-outs, etc., I put them in the appropriate drawer for the boy to find on a rainy day.

As a means of organization the boxes have been great, and using them this way they fit right into my dreams and aspirations for an unschooling environment.

On to the Neanderthal stage

Jon and I were just talking the other day about stages. Ever since Calvin was born I've found myself longing to hold onto stages of life—not so much "the baby stage" or "the toddler stage", but the "diapers are easier and I don't want to have to potty train" stage, or the "I feel safer with him in a crib and can't imagine him in a real bed" stage, or even the "I'm not ready to let go of the baby monitor" stage (and that was just last spring).

What we were talking about a couple days ago was how Calvin has defined each stage for us, as long as we were listening, and how letting him do so avoided any stresses for all of us. Just about the time I was worried about potty training he came downstairs in the morning and said he was done with diapers. Not much later he asked us for a "big boy bed", and just last spring he came into our room when he needed us at night without my needing to hear him on the monitor.

It hasn't just been with standard milestone stages, either. About a year ago he decided to learn to read and promptly did so, and this spring he decided to "study math" so he could play Monopoly. He goes through all kinds of stages—physical, mental, emotional (right now I'm enjoying a new "cuddle mommy" stage), some being obvious, others a little more subtle, but if we listen carefully he's giving us directions every step of the way.

We've been making our way through prehistory, and as in love as we were with the creatures of the Carboniferous, then with the dinosaurs of the Mesozoic, and now with the prehistoric mammals of the Cenozoic, with each step I've dragged my feet, reluctant to leave the beloved behind. This morning I came downstairs, still groggy with sleep because I'm the slow one in the morning, and was presented with a "cave drawing" by a little boy who was letting me know that it was time to move on to our study of early humans and their path into recent history from there.

He asked me for a family of Neanderthals, their cave, and a fire, all out of felt.

And so on we go.

Tomorrow, since today we spent mostly running errands or playing in the sunshine.

The philosophy of ability

Today being Friday we spent the afternoon with our new homeschooling group. It was the first meeting of the year that was held indoors in a rented space with a youth room and gym, and the kids mixed over air hockey, foosball, blocks, and playing tag. At one time I looked out the second story window and saw kids in the trees.

My son spent most of the time exploring the game tables and watching the other kids play. He is happy being a watcher and playing in a game world made up in his own mind. He is imaginative and self-sufficient and happy, but I sat at tables with the other mothers and fretted. Should I go over and play with him? Should I help him find something to do or some way to fit in? Is this something I need to worry about???

In the car ride on the way home I asked him if he'd had a good time and he answered in the affirmative. I asked him if he had just wanted to play alone or had he not found anything to do with the other kids? He hemmed and hawed a bit about that one but I think the answer was that he'd tried to play and hadn't been welcomed, but that he wasn't unhappy playing by himself. And this is what it had looked like to me at the time, too, so I had reassured myself that the point of the meetings was for him to mix with other children and to explore and discover new things, which he certainly couldn't do with me hanging over him.

My inner jury is still out, but I think mine was the wrong answer today and if I had it to do over again (which presumably I may at subsequent Friday gatherings), I would join him in exploring the games or playing in the imaginary world of his choice. What, after all, is the downside? That he'll never learn to get along? That he'll never learn to play by himself? Clearly he's already very capable of both of those things. He has learned them the same way that he has learned reading, writing, spelling, math, piano, science, everything else worth knowing—simply by living, by trying, by watching our examples. When he is picked on he moves on, when he is left out he watches in interest and learns, when he is included he participates with consideration and enthusiasm.

Kids are confident, curious, and resilient all on their own, each in their own way. Because Calvin is confident in his own abilities he doesn't question them when others do, nor does he question his value even when others don't seem to see it. Oh what I couldn't have done with that kind of self-assurance back in school. So if he is by himself again next week I think I see myself trying out foosball and maybe I'll learn some of that self-assurance from his example.

Evolution—we are here

An update on our progress towards U.S. History by way of the evolution detour. Or actually backtrack, since it's not really out of the way, I suppose. This is turning out to be a really fun exploration. Discussing ages of evolution with Calvin—exploring, researching, sometimes explaining—I've had to look more closely at my notions of life and death. I spent the better part of my college years studying exactly this topic, and still I feel like I am only now really seeing it for its most basic lessons. But that's a post all its own. For now, an update:

The timeline has been keeping us busy. So far we have populated each period of the Paleozoic era. Calvin chooses the critters and designs the scenes, then I get to work with cutting and gluing. Mostly we've been using Evolution, The Story of Life, by Douglas Palmer and Peter Barrett, for sketches. We're really enjoying the process, and even my sore neck, from bending over the pieces, is worth it when we play with them either on the timeline or on his felt board.

Designing the Permian period

The timeline is hanging in our upstairs hallway where the light isn't good for photos, but here is our progress up to yesterday, populated through the Devonian Period.

We've just discovered Back in Time, an app for the iPad that has given us no end of pleasure, starting with the big bang and passing through all the events between then and now with pictures and info and lots of buttons to tap. Less hands on, but equally fun, we've been reading and re-reading The Story of Life, by Steve Jenkins, and Life Story, by Virginia Lee Burton (reviews here), and watching and re-watching the BBC Walking With videos. They've definitely taken some liberties with those, but we are enjoying them nonetheless.

And thanks to said new app and the book Bang! The Universe Verse, plus a push from the recent arrival of BFSU (Building Foundations of Scientific Understanding), we've taken on the idea of matter. All those life forms that are evolving had to come from somewhere, right? This is only cursorily related to the evolution exploration right now and has more to do with the arrival of the BFSU book, in which the states of matter is amongst the first topics to look at (along with classification of stuff, and that we really have down), but when I think about it, clearly they're related. Well, actually all of life, and thus all study, is related, and isn't that the point? So tomorrow we'll be freezing, melting, and steaming water, and other fun experimenting.

And because we're not unit study or subject immersion learners, there are lots of other things going, too, like a little piano, a little math, a lot of reading, a little playing with food in the kitchen, a lot of board gaming, and a little outside play. The workboxes are going well (I'll write about that sometime soon), and we're happy and busy much of the time. Still, sometimes the old fear of not knowing what we're doing will creep in grab me around the neck...until I look around, and then, in one great big "oh, yeah" moment, I'm fine again. Evolution it is.

Evolution

Antarctica has now cleanly melded into a vigorous inquiry on the beginning of time.

I had intended to introduce the concept of American history this fall by beginning with the Land Bridge, since that would be the beginning of human American history, but it's funny how when you try to begin in one place it can seem as though you need just a little more first. Land bridge? What about the humans who used it? So okay, early humans it is first. But that's kind of an open beginning, and after watching the History Channel's Ape to Man he had questions about evolution, and the step before that is the introduction of life, yadda yadda. If we were an actual unit studies family one might have to call this the American History Unit Study: From the Big Bang to the American Revolution and Onward. Ha ha.

Calvin is now all kinds of interested in the dawn of time. We followed up Ape to Man with BBC's Walking with Monsters, a rather enjoyable series of three videos on the Paleozoic Era. This afternoon found us scouring the library for books on evolution, Charles Darwin, and the very beginnings of life. There's a surprising amount of good material out there and we have a tall stack of books to go through this week, or as we see fit, plus some related play dough and painting projects, a science look at what it means to be alive, color by number (addition) pictures of Paleozoic life, and possibly some new felt to design, make, and play with. I'm sure we'll also watch the videos again, and there will be other activities that suggest themselves as we go. We'll spend as much time as we like traipsing through seriously historic history, and eventually we'll get around to America and U.S. history. Eventually.